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wandsandwheezes · 3 years

Text

Jealousy | G.W

Warnings // 2.6k // 18+ SMUT, jealousy, sex, gagging, exhibitionism, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, overstimulation, use of pet names, bratty behaviour, dom/sub vibes, aftercare.

A/N // Hi the first smut of the year and it encompasses everythingI want from george weasley <3

The thing that made George Weasley tick the most was people eyeing up his girl. It got him riled up beyond belief, but the ever proud man he is, he would never admit to getting jealous over it. He'd simply let the jealousy get bottled up until it burst. For the most part you ignored the male attention you got, choosing to pretend that you simply didn’t see the lingering stares while nevertheless enjoying the way your boyfriend’s grip tightened around your waist or how he’d stalk over and pull you into an electrifying kiss. His actions quickly told you exactly how he felt about other men’s eyes drinking you in, you were his to devour and his only, so to say that you didn't play into that only the slightest bit is a lie.

You didn’t mind lending a hand in the shop on the weekend, especially when it meant being able to spend more time ogling your lover and the way his muscles tensed as he picked up boxes, how his smile would flash as his inner child came out with all the demos, how easy it was to sneak a kiss in his office and most notably how lovely it was to share lingering glances across the shop as you worked on the tills. George liked having you around because every part of him wanted you close to him, that was why it twisted the knife that little bit more when he saw you lean over the counter just a small amount, giving the man you were serving a view of your perfect chest that his eyes had been locked onto.

The action alone had him clenching his fists together, the vein in his neck popping out as he felt that bubbling jealousy reaching its capacity. Part of him had forgotten that he was holding onto some of the products he had been adjusting on the shelves, counting himself lucky that he hadn’t broken the glass bottles in his hand. He was next to you as soon as you were waving the customer goodbye, mumbling under his breath as he signed you off the till, inputting his own till code to deal with an admin task. “What the fuck was that all about, doll?”

“Sue me for me wanting to make a sale, baby” You smiled, resting your head against his bicep as you waited for him to finish up with his task, dainty hand snaking around his back to hook your fingertips gently through his belt loops. He was finding himself in heaven just by being able to breathe in your perfume.

“Those goods aren’t for sale.” He laughed, a smile hiding the sheer amount of boiling jealousy that was stirring inside of him, he raised his eyebrows and made sure to get a good look of what you had on show, wanting nothing more than to rip open your shirt, so he could see the bare tits that he loved in full view of the afternoon rush.

“Funny one George” you smirked, hand dropping from being slinked around his hips, a hand that he quickly catches, pulling you so that your chest is pressed directly against his, causing a small gasp to fall from your lips at the impact, looking down at you with a sickly sweet smile before pressing a warm kiss to your cheek, a direct contrast to the callous words whispered low enough for only you to hear. “I’m fucking serious, you’re mine.”

You knew that if he had said those words in the comfort of your own home his voice would have been several octaves deeper than his usual conversation’s tone, cut thick full of seduction as he tugged your shirt off of you, but here he had to keep himself restrained, on the low. He would bend you over the counter right now if it weren’t for the shop full of people; it wasn’t unfamiliar territory to be bent over something as George had his way. Lucky for you though, today you could be as bratty as you wanted, he would have to keep himself under wraps until you were alone.

George had sulked off in his office, causing you to follow the man you were intent on annoying all around the shop like the needy girl that you were until he gave in, trapping you between his body and a shelf of potions, careful not to push to hard in fear of drawing attention to himself. You opened your mouth to protest, only to be met with his pointer finger to your lips.

"Is this what you want, to be my little whore begging for me with her eyes?" he tutted as his lips pressed against the sensitive skin of your neck just below your ear, sucking a mark that would be visible to everyone causing a tiny little desperate moan to fall from your lips.

"You like having eyes on you though don't you? In your short little skirt and a pathetic excuse for a shirt… you're just daring me to bend you over something." He mumbled against your ear as his hand was on your breast, thumb and forefinger toying with the hardened nipple through the material of your shirt and bra.

"Baby, I don't know what you're talking abou-" You bat your lashes at your boyfriend, trying your best to act coyly at the situation, ignoring the feeling that his large hands on your chest was giving you. Trying to look away, the fear of being caught in a compromising position with George all too much to bear.

“No talking back, brat.” His hand quickly moved, now on your jaw as he forced you to look at him before crashing his lips down on yours in a fevered kiss. Hs leg had slipped between yours, knee nudging your thighs apart before giving you something to grind down on. It was one of his favourite sights, watching you desperately rut against his thigh as you got yourself off for him.

“George what if someone-” You moaned breathlessly as his hands guided the slow and teasing pace you were allowed to move your hips, It felt so good you were trying not to moan the whole shop down.

“I already said no talking back.” He growled at you, feeling the cool sensation of his rings as his hand pressed against your throat, he wasn't choking you yet, only giving your windpipe a simple squeeze as a warning sign that he was on the edge of his tether.

Fred had yelled his brother's name, as he reached the top step, searching for George around the top balcony floor. The action made your boyfriend look away frustrated as he bit the inside of his cheek. Grumbling a low, 'upstairs, now' before storming away from you, leaving you breathless.

You did as he said, waiting for him excitedly for the first 15 minutes, after 40 minutes had ticked by you grew frustrated with him, after another 15 you were ready to start teasing him again, standing bent over the kitchen counter as you text him.

<< Leaving me all desperate are you, Georgie? x

<< My fingers can't even do yours justice x

<< Bet that guy from earlier would have taken care of me x

>> Don't push your luck, kitten x

Your last text to him was enough to make him leave the stupid task that Fred had left him to do, practically storming up the stairs as he fumbled with his keys to unlock the front door. You hadn't even realised that George was behind you until your phone was snatched from your hands, his strong grip holding you firmly against the counter, his fingers lacing through your hair, taking a handful to grab at.

"You are such a fucking Brat, I can't even do nice things for you without the attitude." You moaned as he gave a rough tug at your hair, his hips bucking into yours in an attempt to relive some of the tension in his own trousers but to no avail, he only grew harder at your babbling moans and begs for him.

"You're begging now but you've been such a bad girl, I don't think I should really touch you at all, I may just have to use your mouth instead." You nodded, not even sure what you were agreeing too, too blinkered by wanting to have him please you that you'd do anything. He knew your limits, you knew your safe word so you knew you were safe.

He had tried to restrain himself but before you knew it you had been thrown over his shoulder, hand giving your ass a playful slap as he walked you towards the bedroom, the sound of your giggles a pure symphony to his ears as they rang about the flat.

There was no dignity in the way he had thrown you on the bed, ripped open your shirt and hitched up your skirt over your hips. Not even caring to take off your underwear, only slipping it to the side to have his fingers buried deep inside you, at first he was slow and teasing as he stretched you out with his fingers alone hut as you began to clench around him, he picked up the pace, bringing you all the way to the very edge of your release before pulling his hand away, sucking your juices off his fingers with a chuckle.

“You think you were clever did you? Bad girls don’t get to cum, not until I say so." He hummed, tapping at your clit with his wet fingers before he leans down so that his head is between your thighs, blowing cool air over your exposed heat, causing a shiver to run up your spine.

"On your knees." His voice was thick, cut sharp and letting you know that he wasn't messing around, he waited for you to be on your knees in front of him, letting you deal with unbuckling his belt to pull him free. His hands were already holding back your hair, helping guide his length down your throat as soon as it was past your lips. The sound of you gagging as he hit the back of you made his cock twitch, a single tear running down your cheek as you hummed against him, a tear that he wiped away with his thumb, smiling down lovingly at you.

"Just one tear for me, Princess? I want your makeup ruined, I know you do too." You nodded at his words, taking him further down your throat until the tears started to spill. You loved it, the way he would use your mouth, it wouldn't take him long till he took control of fucking your throat. His hand pulled your mouth from his cock, spitting in his hand to wrap around his length, mixing your saliva together before he was thrust back into your mouth, setting a relentless pace, hearing your gags as he hit the back of your throat.

"Look at those pretty tears, baby… I'm in two minds to have you cum over and over for me just to keep those tears spilling." His thumb ran over your lip, pulling you up by your jaw so that he could kiss you, the kiss was soft, almost checking in to see you were okay and still with him.

He had you lying on the bed as he rid himself of his clothes, first the tie, which was shoved into your mouth. This was a sight he would never get over, an innocent look plastered in your eyes as he lined himself up, sinking deep inside you quickly. You fit like a glove with him, stretching out perfectly to accommodate every single inch he had to give you and it felt magnificent. He was still but his thumb circled your clit in such a perfect way that he had you coming undone in minutes, that was number one.

Number two was given to you in slow purposeful thrusts as he moaned out for you, not caring who could hear his guttural grunts. All you could do was hum back as a response, wanting to moan for him and only him. The third time he had you releasing so quickly just from his rough pace, he'd pulled his tie from your mouth to kiss you, swallowing every single moan like his life was dependent on it.

"Godric I love your tight cunt. I stretch you out so good, don't I princess? Show me, where you feel me, doll." The fourth had you shaking, he was fucking you so deeply, pulling out completely and sinking back in to the hilt. Your hand grabbed his shakily, pressing it hard against your abdomen, he could literally feel the tip of his cock hitting his hand and he chucked, hooking your legs over his shoulders.

"That's pretty deep, baby, I bet I could fuck you deeper." His words and the feeling of his whole length fucking through you had you over the moon. You weren't sure if you were begging him for more or to stop, it was pain and pleasure mixed together like the perfect shot of ecstasy. The tears were falling down your cheeks like you'd been caught in the rain, but George thought you looked stunning.

"Think you could handle another, brat? Let me lick your cunt nice and clean." Your body told you to stop but your mouth was begging for it, craving a new release by his skilled mouth. You didn't want to deprive yourself of his perfect tongue. Each lick and suck had you screaming for him, your sensitive and used cunt close to release again and this time it was heaven, your thighs quaking as it released over you. You were well and truly overstimulated.

"Good Girl, such a good baby. I'm so proud of you for taking all five, doll." He praised, pressing kisses all over your makeup-ruined cheeks while his hands rubbed gently over your sides. He made sure to get you nice and cleaned up, changing you into his warmest hoodie and some pyjama bottoms, scraping your hair up into a bun and pulling on some fluffy socks.

He changed into his own pyjama bottoms, staying shirtless before picking you up, your legs wrapped around his torso as he walked to the kitchen, laying you down on the sofa, leaving you to come down from from your state of bliss as he made light work of cooking your dinner. He truly was the perfect boyfriend.

"Georgie?" you called out to him, seeing him turn around, immediately dropping what he was cutting up to tend to you.

"Hi princess, welcome back… how're you feeling." He smiled, thumb running over your cheek as he cupped your jaw.

"I love you, George, You're amazing." You hummed, pulling him in for a delicate kiss

"I love you more, baby girl… I wasn't too rough?" He asked, forehead pressed against yours, to which you shook your head tracing light circles on his chest.

"Good girl, I hope you're hungry… I'm making your favourite." You smiled, letting him hoist you up, taking you over to sit on the counter as you watched him.

You smiled dumbfounded by his sweetness, thinking to yourself, 'I'm gonna marry this man.' because George was everything, real true husband material.

#george weasley x reader #george weasley fic #George Weasley #george weasley smut #george weasley fluff #fred and george #weasley twins smut #weasley twins #gred and forge #harry potter fic #harry potter writing #harry potter smut #Harry potter

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oriigirii · 3 years

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Streamer MC headcannons with the brothers 💞

"You were quite a known face on social media back in the human realm, playing games, doing unboxings, just vibin in general, fans around the globe looked forward to your streams a lot! However, considering the sudden (unannounced) invitation to the exchange program, you had to leave all of that behind out of the blue. It wasn't as bad at first, but you have to admit you do miss the feeling of being able to do goofy shit online. Luckily for you, with the advance technology of Devildom and some spicy magic, the internet had synced with the human realm, and thats when you decided to finally re-enter the streaming scene. How will the brothers react upon seeing your peculiar past time?"

Head empty, No thoughts aside from the brothers just bothering the MC while they stream so here you go haha

Warnings: None, just crackhead energy and a lotta mispellings

Gender: Neutral!

Hotel: Trivago

* [ ಠ╭╮ಠ ] Lucifer *

{How did he know about your career?}

I honestly don't see him as someone who goes on the internet a lot

(He screams boomer to me, change my mind)

He doesn't have the time either, he's too focused on work!

So him finding out is gonna take a while

But! He did find out the hard way when shrilled screaming was heard from your room when he was passing by with some paper stacks in his arms (courtesy of Diavolo)

This man felt his instincts kick in, he ran as fast as he could, papers forgotten, and he immediately slammed your door open. Splinters scattering around, your door definitely damaged, as his eyes held a glare and his demon form was out, wings spread in a threatening display.

He was ready to beat someone's ass as he had thought someone had hurt you in here.

But all hes met with is you, infront of your chair and PC, and a game over on the screen...

To say he was unamused was an understatement cause you just lost your internet priviliges for giving him a heart attack (He said it was because you were being rowdy and noisy but with what you saw you knew that wasn't the case)

Good luck tryna puppy-eye your way to his heart to let you continue streaming lol.

If by some miracle you managed to wriggle your rights back from his hands, he'd warn you not to be so loud next time.

You already learnt your lesson though~ (Hopefully)

{How does he feel about your streams?}

Not everyone's the same, so if you were the shy soft streamer who does more art streams or something akin to a podcast, you can bet that Lucifer will be putting you on while he works, he kinda knows your streaming schedule at this point and if you were running late, he'd force one of his brothers to take over your dish washing duties or any chores you were stuck with

If you were the loud obnoxious meme type, hed still try to watch out of curiosity, and as much as he appreciates that you were getting comfortable here in Devildom with how you laugh and joke around, he still can't approve of it. Its too loud, its much like his brothers energy and he has enough of that already, so he probably doesn't watch as much.

He has countlessly came to your room to shush you and at this point your fans had made a compilation of each time Lucifer had barged in to tell you off

Look he likes it when you scream, but not when hes in the middle of work okay--

At this point, chat has deemed Lucifer as dad and you as their mom/dad.

If he ever catches wind of this he'd definitely be teasing you in private for centuries to come.

Overall fine with it, as long as don't do something stupid on stream.

* ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ Mammon*

{How did he know about your career?}

I would say he found out by him crashing into your streams midway but that's too predictable, hence why you've Mammon-proofed your bedroom during streaming hours!

Thanks to our wizard daddy, you have managed to cast a simple lock spell on your door and as well as a sound proofing

You love your broke idiot, but you did wanna keep the tone of your stream today a bit more chill, you wanted to have a proper Q&A with your fans to hopefully clear any bad vibes around your 3 month disappearance.

When Mammon has learnt your door was locked he definitely was a bit pissy, he knocked on your door loudly even and was calling out for you to let him in, but to no avail.

Bro he's scared.

He usually was allowed to enter, and you usually answered if you did need to be left alone for a bit, so just leaving him hanging got his mind racing and he had to press up his ear on the wooden door to try and hear if you were okay

When this continues on he finally resorts to getting help, but the only one in the house ws Levi, so he kicks down HIS door.

Levi boutta summon Lotan for interrupting him honestly

But as Mammon exclaim you weren't answering and he worried for your wellbeing, Levi rolls his eyes and scoffs,

"Idiot Mammon, they're streaming don't bother them…"

Streaming? why didn't you tell him???

Rude much.

He did huff and now was forcing his way to use Levi's PC for a moment

Can Levi stop him?

Nah.

He was busy on his console, and if he stood up now hed be breaking his world record so he was at a terrible state so he just resorts to threats of him drowning the Avatar of Greed if he does anything stupid on his PC.

He immediately logs in to your streaming platform and he watches for a bit,

You were more dolled up now just to look decent on stream, and he felt this jealousy rise as you interact with your chat, especially to those saying I love you's and stuff, and you even said it back? the audacity! You were his werent you? Were you replacing him with these nobodies?

He huffs as he realized that those who paid got their message highlighted, and thus, he starts donating. (Mind you this was Levi's account...)

"Mcccccc Open the dooorrr"

"Ill behave i promiseeeee"

"Cmon pleaseeee?"

Chat is c o n f u s i o n

NGL, they thought Mammon was a creepy stalker and red flags were being waved everywhere

but as chat was pondering who the hell he was, you can only sigh and look at the camera with that unamused expression, but ugh! you just KNOW hes doing that kicked puppy expression of his, and maybe it really wont be so bad

So you snap your fingers and say, "Okay MonMon, its open, Im giving you 3 seconds"

Mammon wasnt deemed to be the fastest out of his brothers for nothing

As soon as you got to '2', you were already tackled by the white haired male and chat went wild.

Now that you've shown your life in Devildom, maybe its time to introduce chat to your boyfriend no?

{How does he feel about your streams?}

You get paid to sit infront of a camera, do I have to say anything else?

But really though, as much as he enjoys the thought of getting so much cash from something so simple, he prefers the joy of being able to proudly exclaim that he was your first man!

ohhhh he thrives on the salt of your overly attached stans

but for those who fully support you, he always feels so mushy and shy when they say the ship you guys so hard

The fanarts has him WEAK (he may or may not have saved a few)

You usually do streams alone, but now you've allowed the door to be left open to let Mammon join whenever

Chat pogs when he enters with so much confidence, only for it to crumble when you kiss his cheek on stream.

Overall finds it fun to spend time with you, but just dont play scary games cause Lucifer might hang him upside down on stream.

* ▘▂▝ Leviathan*

{How did he know about your career?}

He is honestly the most attached to his D.D.D and he catches wind of almost anything going down in the internet, so your 'revival' being hyped up was something he definitely saw and he was just s wo o o ned

His Henry 2.0? a famous streamer?

Were you truly a blessing gifted upon him or was he dreaming?

He definitely didn't bring it up at first as he didn't wanna make it a big deal, but you notice hes been more in his head lately, and you have tried asking him what it was but to no avail.

You have to corner this little snake if you want answers and he eventually admits that he knew of your persona online and was incredibly shy to ask you to stream with him

He's a streamer himself afterall but maybe he doesnt stream as much as you do nor does he have as large of a following, so his intrusive thoughts attacked him and made him think that maybe since he wasnt as famous he didnt deserve to be in the same stream as you

Please tell him to join you and gib him kiss U3U

He'll absolutely m e l t

But now, as you make the announcement to your viewers and Levi to his, the internet explodes as a special collab stream was hapening between the expert gamer and avatar of envy of Devildom along with the beloved exchange student and streamer of the human realm

Your usual viewers reach between 10-15k, but as you start stream, that number boosts higher and beyond

Before streaming though, Levi was incredibly nervous, he'd picked the games for you to play that he knew you would enjoy with him, but his mind kept racing about whatthe fans thought, he didnt wanna disappoint them

But you had to remind him that whatever they say will not matter in the end as this was merely for fun, this was YOUR stream and you guys were gonna do what you want and nobody can have a say on it. (Maybe except Lucifer)

You usually talk for him with your bubbly personality, and to calm his nerves, he hs your pinky wraped around his where the camera can't see it.

Regardless, his thoughts subsided as you two delve into your stream that lasted a solid 7 hours, you definitely promised your chat that you and Levi will be doing more streams together from now on.

Once the cameras cut and yall are left alone, Both of you collapse on bed, and despite you being asleep already, Levi was just far too giddy as everything dwells on him.

Having a player 2 by his side now had never felt so intoxicating and he as just so lucky to have you.

{How does he feel about your streams?}

He obviously adores it, although some streams he wouldnt join just so he can play games on his own

He's still an introvert afterall, he needs his alone time

But he prefers that alone time with you, his Henry.

So when youre about to go stream, he kinda becomes a bit pouty, but with a simple promise of kisses (and maybe even more if youd like) he would let you go, but his attention would disappear from his game altogether.

He might just end up watching you instead

May or may not, at some point, just chat you and ask if its too late to join you

You do allow him to join you and play from the comforts of his room as both of you can simply play via internet, you give him the comfort to not turn on his mic or webcam either and you have no idea how he appreciates that.

Will definitely fight someone online when they start claiming you as theirs (-cough- stans) Please make sure it doesnt escalate to him summoning Lotan

Although the comments would often get to him, and as much as he can fight them online, he still does find himself pondering if they were true, so you need to give him a lotta lovin and reminder that he is your player 1 and no one else can ever fill that place.

------

Wow 3 brothers this time, what an improvement, anyways hope yall enjoy! I think its pretty clear who I simp for depending o nthe length of each lol, but do let me know if you guys want a part 2 for the rest of the brothers, or even the undateables!

#Obey me #obey me fanfics #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me Mammon x reader #obey me Lucifer x reader #Obey me Leviathan x reader #obey me headcannons #obey me shall we date

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mcbenson25 · 3 years

Text

What Was Never Meant To Be Part 4 (Finale)

As promised...the final part!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Warning: angst, anxiety, anxiety attack

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

Life had to be pulling a cruel joke on you.

Or maybe you were dreaming and you would wake up and everything would be okay.

And yet a part of you already knew nothing was okay right now.

This was real.

He was real.

Dominick Carisi was standing in front of you.

For a moment neither of you said anything. You were both afraid of what would happen next. So you both stood there staring at each other.

Waiting for the other to interrupt reality.

To bring it crashing.

"Momma who's that?"

And there it was.

You saw his eyes travel to Rosalie as she hide behind your legs, curious of the stranger.

Stranger.

How you wished he was.

You saw the hurt in his eyes as the filled with tears.

How dare him.

He has no right.

He hurt me.

"Rosalie darling why don't you go watch TV for a bit and then I'll give you ice cream?" Your voice trembled.

The little girl smiled before giving small wave to Sonny and disappearing to her room.

You saw him choke back a sob as he met your eyes.

"She's so big" he said quietly.

No.

He doesn't get to play the sad card. The broken and alone card. It had already been used and it had only left devastation in its way.

"Yeah she is. What do you want?" You said coldly.

You saw him flinch at the sound of you voice. He had never heard you be this cold.

"I uh...I thought I could come and we could talk." He said avoiding you eyes.

You gave a small forced huff of annoyance.

"Talk? Now you want to talk? You know what? We were done talking the minute you kissed Amanda!" You voice was getting louder as you saw him look down in shame.

It was truly amazing how although he was taller than you he seemed so small right now.

Vulnerable.

Hurt.

Heartbroken.

Just like you were all those years ago.

"I jus-st wanted to meet her. To apologize to you". His voice broken and near crying.

You felt so much anger.

It had all been pent up over the years waiting to blow.

And it finally did.

"Oh yeah? Well sorry to tell you that you just came to waste your time. I don't need any of your apologies or pity or anything else. You hurt me. YOU BROKE ME!" You shook angrily.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed, "I never meant to hurt you."

Right when you were about to go off on him again he was on his knees sobbing and crying.

"I'm so sorry. Please, I'm sorry. Please," he sobbed uncontrollably as his breathing quickened and his whoke body began to shake.

No.

This cannot be happening.

Sonny Carisi was having an anxiety attack.

Immediately your anger was forgotten as you rushed to his side and embraced him.

Despite everything, no one deserved to go through that alone.

Even if you had.

"Hey. Look at me it's okay. Shhhh it's okay." You tried to comfort him as the strong passionate man you had known broke down in front of you.

He cried saying things incoherently and you pulled him closer to you.

"ItsnotokaynothingisokayI'msosorry" he muffled into your chest.

Nothing is okay.

Understatement of the year.

As you rubbed his back he slowly began to calm down.

And become self concious of his surrondings.

He lightly pushed you away as he stood and took a good couple steps back, hs eyes wide and full of fear and regret.

"I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to do that," he said nervously, once again avoiding your gaze.

"No it's fine. I was a little too harsh." You said softly.

"Rightfully so," he said matching your tone.

There was a quiet silence between you for a while.

It gave you time to really think about all of this.

You sighed.

Rosalie deserved to know who her father was and have the opportunity to spend time with him.

"Sonny," you finally said.

His eyes looked up at you unsure.

"Her name is Rosalie and she is four. She's so beautiful. She has the prettiest smile and most wonderful laugh. She lights up any room she is in and is the amazingest little girl in the whole world." You say taking a pause before continuing.

"She deserves to know you. And I don't have the heart to keep her away from you. But there are conditions."

He looked up at you with hopefull, pleading eyes, "Anything"

"You can come see her whenever you want. You just have to let me know. You will go with her to every field trip and parent conference. You will spoil her rotten and give her all the love she deserves. You will be her knight in shining armour," you pause as you felt your eyes well up in tears.

"And if you ever break her heart, I swear to you, you will never see her again and I'll make sure to make your life a living hell," you trembled out you voice threatening to crack.

"Because that little girl deserves nothing less."

Sonny was in tears as he nodded.

"Never. I promise you. I will never hurt her," he said gently before meeting you eyes, "or you again."

He tried to reach for you hand but you stepped back realizing how close you had gotten.

"Don't."

He looked down shamefully.

"Look Sonny. I was hurt pretty bad that day. And I ran. Away from you, from everything. But yet my feelings for you seemed to follow me. Because somehow my heart still felt something for you. It took years to get through that. I don't know what the future holds for us but please, I can't do that. I don't want for this to get complicated. Maybe someday I'll change my mind or find someone else. But for right now I just want to clear my head and just be friends."

"Right. Of course." He said.

You sighed softly.

It was nice to get that off your chest.

You looked at him and gave him a small smile.

"Do you want to meet your daughter?"

"Yes," he said returning your smile.

Maybe you were both never meant to be togther or maybe it was just bad timing. Maybe the future would change that. You had grown into a different person and so had he. There were so many possiblities for the future and for once you were ready.

Ready for what lied ahead.

Because life had a funny way of doing things.

And you were finally at peace.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Taglist: @wittysunflower

Okayyyyyyy. There you gooooo. After a month with just a small request here we are 4 parts later (sorry not sorry). This request was so fun to write and I hope you enjoyed it. Also made the ending so that you could decide what happens next! As always thank you so much for reading and don't be afraid to drop those requests!

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cutemeat · 2 years

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wait as a newish fan can you tell me how / why rob is misogynist? (like besides his weird things on the podcast lol idk if theres more) and also who is jordan lol

ok im gonna say first of all i was mostly just joking in those tags ur referring to KJNFGDKJ just as full disclosure before I dig into this any further. ..

that being said, me joking abt that stuff in regard to rob is bc it just seems like rob is insecure about how he's contributed to a shitty system and really screwed someone (jordan reid, aka the original Sweet Dee) over personally and after being made more aware of his place in contributing to said system he's overcompensating while he's working thru some of that.... and uh. in all honesty it's something that i find funny and make jokes about cuz i am also someone with an extremely fragile ego n it feels good to deflect and make fun of someone else for having a fragile ego LOL

so it seems like rob's talking on the podcast and in other interviews abt misogyny n trying to 'correct' himself or pulling out that fuckin button on the podcast for 'Solves the North Korea Situation'.... i think this ties into him reconnecting with Jordan (who, like i said, was the og sweet dee who got booted from the production at the last minute largely as result of her n rob breaking up n none of the other guys backing her up...) and basically writing the MQ ep A Dark Quiet Death about that whole situation and the falling out.. idk it just seems like. maybe having to reconcile the fact he has been A Part Of The Problem and an asshole has gotten to him n again it feels like he overcompensates for that in the pod n i like to exploit those insecurities im familiar with in my own ways for laughs LOL. but yknow... i am a 20 yr old unemployed HS drop out on tumblr dot com n hes got a nice mansion and successful career in the film industry so i dont feel like im gonna hurt any feelings here..

so with all that context out of the way: i dont think rob is Actually some raging misogynist ... and if he is I wouldn't know either way cuz I Dont Know The Guy! so def take what I say here with a grain of salt I am very often not being serious and bad at using tone indicators so I do apologize if any of it gets confusing kjndfgkjd. he def has been misogynistic in the ways a lot of men will be without rlly thinking much of it (think dennis' obliviousness to how insane some of his logic about women sounds on sunny, but maybe less predatory but again idk the guy lol) but as of now he seems like he's more aware of that n better late than never n all that!

(once again.. a lot of my opinions here are mostly based in my own experiences and emotions projected onto people and situations I have only heard accounts of in articles/blog posts/podcasts n interviews so def keep that in mind. don't take me as the authority on anything lol. google 'jordan reid' + 'always sunny' and read thru her old blog posts about the situation if u are so inclined and draw your own conclusions! but like i said it's a mostly interpersonal thing between two ppl i dont know and it doesnt seem like there's much bad blood on that interpersonal level anymore rather than anger with a system that failed her. that being said its def a part of the shows history that shouldn't just be forgotten or discarded as it is apart of a larger issue anyway. srry this is all so messy if it wasnt obvious by how badly i am at talking abt this stuff i feel weird talking about strangers lives even celebs but yknow. tbh if i wanna make jokes abt this shit i should be prepared to explain myself anyway. like god im so bad at talking abt any of it seriously but i always wanna know all the dirt cuz I'm so fuckin nosy I love drama n gossip and Backstory!!!)

+ this is an older article that sorta sums up the events n links to her blogpost about it!

#pretty sure The Gang Gets a New Member was a first attempt at addressing this situation #but the DQD episode is much more obvious with what its about n honestly done a little better cuz its clearer lol #in summary: parker has NO CLUE what the fuck theyre talking about and it SHOWS!

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vocalyunho · 4 years

Text

For the game

pairing — bad boy! Yunho x fem. reader

genre — angst, smut

word count — 4.4k

warnings: blowjob, cunnilingus, explicit protected sex, degradation, mention of insecurity.

synopsis — playing truth or dare with a bunch of 20-year-olds always leads to impermissible happenings. What happens when your friend dares you to make the bad boy of the campus come in order for you to win the game?

A/N(1): to the anon who requested this, I made some changes to the request to fit the plot. Writing bad boy! Yunho was kinda difficult for me though when he’s a walking sweetheart 24/7. My apologies if this one’s not good.

Α/Ν(2): gif is mine

“Make Yunho cum and you’re the winner of the game”, everything went blurry for a second and you thought you didn’t hear right. However, you heard perfectly but when the night started, you didn’t expect it to come to this.

“we want proof, too”, Mingi smirked from across you in the circle.

Your eyes flickered and before they could go wide, you collected yourself. If anything, making Yunho come was a fantasy many girls had. He’s the dreamlike Yunho, after all...tall, blond with his black natural roots always visible, built like a damn Greek God and he’d really resemble one, if only he wasn’t him. Hs has a different reputation...the ‘bad guy’ kind of reputation, but he isn’t just the type to smoke too much for his own good or break the law because ‘laws are meant to be broken’ -even though he did both-. He’s more like the type that doesn’t pretend. He never changed his personality just to accommodate whoever was around, he never tried to fit in, he never asked for approval by anyone. He was him, too confident, unpredictable, cocky and rough and most of the times...too much.

You’ve never come in direct contact with him, you’ve never talked to him, he’s intimidating enough to just mind your business and stay away from the trouble he could cause you. However, you do see him in many lectures to know how smart and eloquent he is and that worries you the most, because he knows how to use these two gifts of his very well. So well to the point, girls fall for him and his carefully chosen words, even though they subconsciously know he just wants to fuck them and never talk to them again. But they still fall!

“So?”

“I’ll do it”, you didn’t think much of it. There are 15 people in this room waiting for you to take the dare, you can’t be a coward now, even if you know you’ll regret it later. “but just so you know, the proof part...fucking gross...what’s going on inside your mind?”, you spit out the words. How are you going to keep proof, anyways?

Everyone cheered as you stood up and from the corner of your eye you could see Yunho doing the same, the simple way of just standing up with a smirk smudged on his lips making your heart clench out of nowhere.

“take your time, no need to hurry”, Mingi shouted and Yunho laughed cheekily. Your eyes only rolled dramatically at the back of your head and, without knowing that’s a foreshadowing of your near future, you walked upstairs. Who would’ve thought walking to a room would be hard, especially with him following behind you as you felt his eyes on you the entire time. Trying to stay calm, your mind wandered around trying to think of what you’ll do once you come face to face with him behind the closed door and when you reached the room, the clicking sound of a door getting locked, made you snap out of any other thoughts. You turned around fast, only to catch him scanning your body as his tongue played around in his mouth and when he felt your gaze on him, he didn’t even try to take his eyes away. The -not so loud- music from downstairs was even lower upstairs and it could only be heard as a distant echo now, behind the closed door.

“well, uhm-“

“you had planned this, right?”, only then he decided to leave your body and move his eyes up to yours. Everything happening as he moved his hands into his pockets and narrowed his eyes as the same sly smile from before got wider.

“excuse me?”

“you planned this with Mingi, didn’t you?”

“believe me, if I was to plan something...this would be the last thing I’d try to”, your hand moved in circles in front of you, indicating that you’re talking about the situation you’re in right now.

“the last thing, you say?”. It looked like he got offended as the smirk disappeared, but you couldn’t care less right now.

“can we just get over with it fast? Sit down so I can blow you”

“I can’t come from blowjobs”, he said in a normal tone.

“there’s no way you don’t, all guys do”

“I don’t”, he shrugged and started walking around the room, “besides, we wouldn’t be able to keep proof...would you go downstairs with my cum all over your face as proof?”

“I’d never do that, my level isn’t so low”, you grimaced at his boldness as you faced his back.

“I’m not so sure about that”

You tilted your head and -without realizing- your eyebrows furrowed, “excuse me?”, a bitter smile creeped up your features, trying to process the words he had just blurted out as you crossed your arms tightly in front of your chest. He turned around and his characteristics looked extremely chill, like he was discussing normally with a friend. “I think you’d gladly go down these stairs to show off to everyone what good of a job your pretty little mouth can do”

“I really hope I misunderstood what you just said”, you tried to stay content and waited for him to somehow explain himself. You were sure you weren’t hearing right, this guy doesn’t know you the slightest bit to spit out dreadful things like that.

“aww what? are you mad?”, he sneered pouting and walked towards you. If you weren’t already mad at what you were hearing, his attitude was enough to make you.

“no”, although your head felt like clasping from the rush of nerves, you took a deep breath and let your eyes fall heavy on his.

“guys like you always speak like that”, you raised your eyebrow at him “you don’t have anything better to do, after all. Your only concern is who you’ll fuck next…so, I didn’t expect anything more from you”

You let your hands fall on the back pockets of your jeans and looked at him with the same sly smile he had before. At this point, you know you’re about to lose both Mingi’s dare and the opportunity to blow the Jeong Yunho, but who cares after what he’s already told you? If he can be bad, you can be worse.

The black buttoned down shirt he was wearing betrayed the tension spreading in his body and as he raised the sleeves up to his elbows you saw the -painted with black ink- arms flex and unflex at the words you spoke, making the veins pop out. His expression changed into a mix of confusion and surprise and stayed still where he was, maybe 1 meter away from you.

“you don’t know me”, he smiled ironically and you held back every urge to kiss this flaming hot smile of his away.

“You don’t either but you said what you said before, uhm…Yunho? Is that right? Wait, what’s your name, again?”, you frowned like you couldn’t remember his name.

He laughed coldly and let his tongue lick his bottom lip, bet then moved closer and bent down to reach your height, “ask that one more time and I’ll make sure you never forget it again”, he whispered like someone could hear you.

You looked everywhere but at him and your face was expressionless, but your mind travelled with 200 miles an hour. If this meant what you thought it did, you’d love to never forget his name again but why is he attacking you? You don’t even know each other, he has no right to talk to you like that and after all, you were dared to be in this room alone with him. It’s not like you asked for this to happen.

It took you everything to press your palm against his chest to keep a distance between your bodies, “cut the act already and let’s get over with what we came here for. I need to win the dare and the game, not argue with a fucking stranger”

“oh, don’t worry about that, you’ll win the game”, he kept coming closer and closer and you moved back until your back pressed against the wall, leaving you no other choice than to stare up at his intimidating, yet hot form “and we won’t be strangers anymore”. It felt like his lips attacked yours in a matter of seconds and his hands travelled immediately down to grab your ass and pick you up. Your head felt dizzy at the relieve of the previous nerves as you kissed him back just as hungrily, and it felt like all the argument from before did, was build a sexual tension that drove you both crazy. He was breathing heavily against you, making the sound of lips on lips and breath against breath echo in the room and your legs wrapped around his waist fast. It was sloppy and passionate, like you were both waiting for it longer than you should and as his tongue wandered around in your mouth, you arms wrapped around his neck tightly. Your hands messed his hair up as you grabbed the back of his head in whichever way you could and when he parted and travelled down to kiss your neck, only then you realized how much you’d lingered for this. Leaning your head back against the wall, it seemed like all the previous thoughts about the credulous girls that fell for him led you to becoming one of them. Your mouth fell open when he bit down in the part between your ear and collarbone and the spine-tingling feeling made you let a breathy moan out. If he hadn’t already marked it, he was definitely going to with the way his lips sucked on the increasingly sensitive flesh. All your senses had almost given in until you felt fingers grab your chin, forcing your head drop down to his eye level “seems like someone’s having fun”, he smirked.

“shut up” and this time you actually kissed that cheeky smile of his away, with no second thoughts. If you’re going to regret all of this afterwards, better regret it after doing everything you wish for, now. He didn’t hesitate a second and before you knew it, you were thrown on the bed with him on top and your legs still wrapped around his waist, but now you could feel his bulge between your thighs. “You considered me a slut, yet you are the hard one”. You turned him over easily but you’re sure he only let you to. You straddled him on purpose, already grinding your crotch against his and your lips landed on his neck, sucking harshly. Multi-tasking isn’t your forte, but you successfully did all of this while unbuttoning the useless buttons, until gravity forced the two parts of the shirt to slide on the sides exposing his chest that you couldn’t see yet. He breathed heavily under you, not letting a single sound out though and you so wanted to hear what he’d sound like. You raised your body to admire the view of his exposed torso and it didn’t let you down at all and his comment only made your curiosity about how he’d sound like, grow more “wanna know how I taste like? C’mon go ahead, baby”. Oh, you’re so gonna taste him. You kissed his chest and travelled down to the fairly formed abs, giving attention to each one as they tensed with every lick, but still no sound from him. The sight of the v-line on his oblique muscles, travelling down and inside his jeans, made your mouth water and unbuckling the already loose belt along with the zip, he raised his hips to help you take it off.

“Both”, he growled and the message was taken in an instant. You don’t know why you obeyed but you slid down both the jeans and his boxers, making his dick spring up like an actual spring. You didn’t help the gasp that left your throat and he only fake laughed, enjoying your reaction more than he should. “maybe you should think about it again, baby”, the confidence in his tone triggered you more than you expected. He’s indeed big, well maybe, too big but you can’t back out now. You’ve come this far, you need to win this game. You grabbed the base tightly and gave it a slow stroke all the way up to his tip, that was already swollen, but he was too dry to pump properly. Your spit landed on his slit fast, only for you to smear it with your thumb over the entire reddened tip. “Shit”, his eyes never left your hand as it stroked him slowly, getting the spit over the length until it was ready to work as lube. Your hand worked up and down, increasing the pace as you did, but other than the curse he let out previously no other sound or word was heard from him. Only heavy breaths and tensed muscles proved that someone was playing with him. You held on his bare thigh to keep your body steady and pumped him faster but the spit was long gone, “blow me”.

Every time he speaks, it feels like you can’t do anything else other than obey, and that’s exactly what happened now again as you wrapped your lips around the tip, licking it with your tongue. He hissed and, maybe, you’re almost there, almost at making him let all the sounds out. You tried your best to deep throat him but you only gagged from the first try and you hadn’t even taken all of him yet. So staying at known waters, you bobbed your head fast going till midway and holding the rest of him with your hand, until he backed his hips up going deeper than you were prepared for and your eyes watered instantly. Everything around you disappeared for a second and when you felt a strong hold on your hair, you came back tightening your lips around him as he held your head steady in a messy ponytail he had created with his hand. His body was almost up, thrusting in your mouth with no mercy, lowkey loving the sounds made by his dick getting shoved in your wet mouth. You moaned at the abuse of your throat and the vibrations sent to him made his eyebrows furrow and thrust faster as you tried to keep your kneeled body up by pushing down at the mattress. He thrusted and thrusted and tears started sliding down your cheeks, indicating that you’re almost out of oxygen. Your breathing was sporadic, not being able to inhale properly until he grunted so loudly that made you snap out of everything and, finally, listen to his needy voice “you’re taking this dick better than anyone else, fuck”

He throbbed and immediately pulled out, making you fall on his thighs. Everything was spinning around you for some moments and you coughed trying to catch your breath. Your hair fell all over your face when he detached his hand and you felt some wet strands sticking anywhere they touched. Weakness was the first thing you felt once you caught your breath, but you did realize what he had told you, making your drenched in wetness panties feel almost uncomfortable now. You were needy, you needed him to make you feel good. You needed to know if he was as good as everyone claimed he was, but you shouldn’t look desperate. “Fuck”, you whispered coming in your senses for good now.

“About that…”, your body was on the pillow and under him again in a matter of seconds “you didn’t make me come, so I guess I’ll have to fuck you if you wanna win the game”, he rolled his eyes like you failed him but his actions said otherwise. Yunho slid his hands under your shirt, only to find your bare breasts already exposed “you’re not wearing a bra? How did this pass unnoticed by me the entire night?”, he raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised, but the smirk was still there.

However, you didn’t wear one only because you wore an oversized piece of clothing tonight and your breasts are too small for anyone to realize you don’t have a bra on under such fabric. That’s already been your biggest insecurity, you didn’t need him to mention your breasts in a situation like this. Your breathing hitched and your eyes flickered between his own as he fiddled with them. You were quick to cover your breasts with your hands above the t-shirt, pushing his own away but then he looked in your eyes again and you swear to any God, you saw some…emotion? “I like small boobs anyways…they’re way cuter”, he stated after a bit, like he spoke facts but you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of them. You didn’t want him up there again and, maybe, he realized as he didn’t dare to touch them again. He is…respectful?! He started kissing your abdomen here and there until he reached the hem of your pants and as his lips went lower and lower, so did your pants along with your panties. You don’t know when they reached your knees or when he slid them completely off, but you do know how good his lips feel on your thighs and on the inner part of them and now on your…clit. “ohmygod-“, he flattened his tongue and you spread your legs to give him more space to do as he wished “so needy”, Yunho chuckled and sucked on your clit making lewd sounds fill the room. You whimpered and as he kept sucking, you felt a knot on your stomach getting tight “oh shit, yes-”. He hummed and before parting his lips from you, he licked your entrance collecting some of your silk on his tongue and swallowing it. “mhm better than I expected”, he commented to himself as he stood up from the bed fast, leaving you confused until you saw him taking a small square package from his jeans’ pockets and ripping it open before sliding a condom on his length.

He came up, close to your face again and his eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips as he spoke “be a good girl and make me come…remember, I’m the one making you win this game so behave and don’t you dare fall for me”

“I wasn’t planning to, I want this to be over as much as you want”

He cocked his brow and ran his tongue over his bottom lip in disbelief “it didn’t seem like this a minute ago”.

“it didn’t seem like you wanted this to be over either when you throbbed and pulled out of my mouth”, you cocked your brow too. Did he really think you wouldn’t notice he almost came in your mouth? You might not be as experienced as him or have a dick like he does, but you’re not this naïve. You were ready for a harsher comeback but your mouth fell on a silent scream and your eyes shut close fast before you could hear what he said. He shoved himself in you with a groan and your head pinned to the pillow “oh shittt-”

“I could come…but I didn’t. I know you want me inside you…look at you, you can’t even take it all”

“fucking try me”, you said through greeted teeth and when he pushed further you regretted talking before thinking “fuck ohmygoddd-”. He’s big, especially in width, maybe more than anyone you’ve had before or so you thought at the moment. Your fingers dug into the mattress, eventually holding on the sheets on each side of your body and when he bottomed out, he grabbed your cheeks to make you face him again “you better take me well”, he said and pulled out fast before snapping his hips against yours “fuuuckkk”. You weren’t even used to his size yet but he thrusted in a pace that had the skin against skin sound echo in the room like a rhythm.

“you’re so fucking tight”, he almost growled and your eyes shut tight at the feeling of being filled to the hilt. Pleasure took over your body quickly and his breathing got heavier and louder making you look at him. Yunho’s head was bowed forward, his eyes on how he disappeared in you but the glistening wetness on his forehead caught your eye. You weren’t the only one sweating at the penetration, he tried his best to bear the new satisfaction that was taking over his body slowly and the popping vein on the side of his neck, admitted it.

You didn’t control the loud cry that fell from your lips when he managed to go faster and the smirk that got smudged on his lips again, drove you insane. “oh fu-uck”, his brows furrowed and his head snapped back. He sounds so good. Your body started moving along with his thrusts and high pitched moans filled the room after every shove of his dick in you “f-fasterr”. Only when the headboard knocked on the wall behind you, you realized how hard he was thrusting and the next second his hands grabbed your waist to move you as he wished. You could only feel the sweet abuse of your hole but when he tightened his fingers you noticed how big his hands were. So big, he could almost move you easily with just the grasp of his fingers around you. The air in your lungs got knocked out with every shove and your breasts -even though tiny- bounced too.

“Spread your legs”, he snapped suddenly. You only did as much as you could “more”.

“MORE”

He sounded mad and suddenly both of his hands grabbed your ankles and held them up, spread as much as he wanted, forcing his dick harder in your hole. “ohmygod Yunho-”. He went so deep you thought you saw stars and you tried to hold on the sheets harder but failed miserably.

“you know my fucking name after all”

“fuck that’s iit”, his balls hit your ass with every thrust and he hissed at how much deeper he could go in the new angle.

“say my name”

“ ddon’t stop- yess”

“say my name”

“fucking make me”

Yunho’s hands were off your legs in a second and his body above you, almost crushing you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you up on his lap fast before getting off the bed. You had no idea what was going on but the movement made you wrap your legs around his waist and your hands around his neck for safety. “you’ll scream my name, want it or not”. Your bare back froze from hitting the cold wall so fast and his hands went on your ass now to bounce you up and down on his dick like a puppet. “ohmy fuckin godd-”

‘this little pussy’s swallowing me s-so good”

Everything spinned and your hair got all over your face again but you were holding on him for dear life. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head when he hit the spot and as you didn’t control your mouth muscles anymore, he crashed his lips on yours swallowing the next loud moans. “that’s it yesyesyes”. You let his lips go but felt his eyes on you as you couldn’t keep your own open for more than a second. He groaned loudly and you realized that the Jeong Yunho is right in front of you, looking at your fucked out features and being the reason behind them. You tried to collect yourself as much as possible. This is the only chance you have to make him lose his mind and you’ll grab it. “ffuck me har-der”, you stared into his eyes like this was a challenge “is that all you got?”

“you little-”, He pressed his body against yours, sandwiching you between him and the wall and snapped up with effort.

“harder”

He pounded into you mercilessly and you lost track of everything. You were so close. The overdose of satisfaction almost choking you, but he was driving you to a bliss so sweet that you’d never wanna leave again. “shit-” he jerked and his tip hit your g-spot especially hard “ohmygod Yunhoo-”

“lou-der”, he couldn’t even speak the words properly but his pride was so big, he couldn’t end it there.

“Yu-unho don’tt stop-”

“I’m gon- coome fuck”, his knees trembled and the knot in your stomach couldn’t take it anymore. His grunts were loud and got mixed with needy moans as he came but he kept thrusting as fast as he could. His face was all scrunched up and let his head fall on your shoulder muffling incoherent syllables against it. His sweat got on your shirt and he kept throbbing and thrusting as he filled the condom. Your hand reached for your clit and just as you circled it twice, your abdomen flexed like you pressed the switch and your orgasm reached you with loud cries and sporadic breathing. Your upper body trembled and you felt him tightening the embrace to keep you steady as he slowed down, trying to catch his breath still against your shoulder. Your head rested on the wall behind you and after closing your eyes, you felt Yunho dragging himself out. You hissed because of the sensitivity but he was slow and then he moved your bodies letting you fall on the soft mattress.

“you won the game”, he said staring at the condom after sliding it off. You’ll probably have to clean it with some water before keeping it as proof.

“I’m glad”, you raised your head only to get the view of his naked body standing tall beside the bed and you pressed your legs together, narrowing the knees at the recent memory of him being inside you, but then you spoke words you wished you didn’t have to “this was only a one time thing, for the game. Let’s forget it happened”.

“yeah, let’s forget it”. Something felt like shattering inside him in a million, tiny pieces. He knew this was the first time he ever felt something, almost real, for someone…

—————————————————

you can read part 2 here

#ateez #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #yunho smut #yunho angst #bad boy! Yunho #ateez smut #ateez angst #kpop scenarios #kpop fics #anon I used the gif you talked about in the request I think huhu #I apologize if this isnt good #bias tag: ♔

1K notes · View notes

sunsoothed · 3 years

Text

partnership

sorry for not working on the prompts. here's a uhhh. [checks notes] 2.7k words canon-divergence fic for you. fixing episodes 19 and 20! dedicated to the corn salad support group. thank you all! hope you like it. and sorry for any errors!

word count: 2719

read on ao3

enjoy!

When Vincenzo watches her go, ready to pull his hair out for the is it for women only question, he senses it. Something behind them, a lurking presence. He taps his foot for a moment, considering, still watching her go.

“Byeonhosa-nim!” He calls. The presence moves, as well.

Chayoung turns.

“Call me when you reach?” It’s meant to be a command, but Vincenzo never really lives up to his tiring image around her. “If- if you’re fine with that, of course.”

Chayoung laughs. “Seriously, byeonhosa-nim, I didn’t expect you to be so worrisome.” She shakes her head. “I’ll call you. Don’t forget to eat!”

Vincenzo nods. Chayoung finally disappears out of sight, to her car, and Vincenzo turns to try and discern whether his worries were unfounded. But there is no lurking presence anywhere, nobody watching them. He sighs, runs a hand through his hair, and debates lunch.

Chayoung had called him when she reached, all teasing and light, easing his worry and mounting his mortification. She hangs up with a cheery don’t wait up! And Vincenzo keeps his smile to himself as he hums at the dead line.

Don’t wait up, she had said.

Vincenzo still thinks about it as the evening progresses. When it grows dark out, he finds himself in need of a distraction, so the TV’s turned to one of the variety shows Hanseo had introduced him to, and he’s plucking his wine glass out of the cabinet, when —

Vincenzo knows bad omens when he sees them. He’s not surprised by the sounds outside his unit. Even less so at the letter.

It’s what inside that sets his insides frozen, still. Chayoung’s earring, covered in blood. Vincenzo bites his lip, caught between disbelief and a consuming fear. Turns back, contemplating, and eventually washes hs hands in a rush, picks up his phone, and runs down.

When Chayoung picks up her phone, he’s beyond relieved. “You’re okay?”

Chayoung’s greeting is cut off. “Of course I am. Are you?”

“I got… a gift.”

“Is gratitude something so foreign to you that you need to come running to me?” Chayoung asks drily. “Byeonhosa-nim, you really —”

“I think,” Vincenzo cuts in, probably breaking a speeding law, “I think Jang Hanseok is out.”

“What did you get?” Chayoung asks, and she moves, Vincenzo can hear. She sounds like she’s standing up.

“You earring,” Vincenzo admits. “It was covered in blood.”

“Now that you mention it,” Chayoung murmurs, “There are some suspicious people here.”

“I’m on my way,” He replies. “Just be careful.”

“You’re really making me feel like I can’t fend for myself, byeonhosa-nim.”

Vincenzo blinks. He can’t exactly discern her tone, is she… angry?

“I’m sorry —”

“Don’t,” Chayoung sighs. “Don’t start. I’ll wait for you, okay?”

Through some uneasiness, Vincenzo answers, “Okay.”

Yeonhwa will admit, she hadn’t expected Chayoung to show up. Her classmate’s always been rather flaky about these events, she doesn't usually come unless she has bad blood or business (or both) with someone.

So it was definitely a surprise when Hong Chayoung walked through the doors of the banquet hall, suit impressive and gait confident. Yeonhwa wasn’t sure what her intention was, but she had that tenacity in her that she’s always had, so it musn’t be anything out of the ordinary.

“Hwang byeonhosa-nim,” Chayoung greets her with a mock-bow. “It’s been a while.”

“Hong byeonhosa-nim,” Yeonhwa mimics, “I haven’t seen you around these parts lately.”

It takes a moment for the screen to shatter, and they both laugh before they take their seats.

“Remember Professor Eun?” Yeonhwa asks, leaning close, already slipping into their old familiarity. “He’s the dean now.”

“Really?” Chayoung asks, genuinely surprised. “Why’d they pick such a bore?”

Yeonhwa shrugs, and they return their attention to the speeches being presented. Her leg begins bouncing under the table, and she’s unsure if Chayoung can sense it or not.

“By the way,” Yeonhwa says, unable to keep to herself even for a moment into the next speaker’s presentation, “Have things been okay with you? I haven’t been keeping up much with the news, but I heard about your father.”

Chayoung smiles at her gratefully. “Thanks for asking. I’ve been… dealing with it.” Dealing with it, Yeonhwa thinks to herself. It doesn’t really seem like it.

She sees something in Chayoung’s eyes, something raw beyond comprehension, some hurt. She places a hand on Chayoung’s arm, aiming to reassure. “I know we don’t keep in touch much, but if you need anything…”

“Thanks, Yeonhwa-yah,” Chayoung says. Odd. She actually feels the sincerity this time. “You’ve always been so kind.”

Has it been so long since she’s just had… a friend?

Chayoung swallows. Yeonhwa notes this, from the corner of her eye, and she realises that this must be why Chayoung’s been so distant.

It’ll be a long night, she supposes. Hopefully she can take Chayoung out for drinks after this.

Turns out, Yeonhwa cannot take Chayoung out for drinks after this, because she first gets a phone call that makes her sigh in a fond way, then makes her jittery in a terrible way, and second — Yeonhwa thinks this is the most confusing thing — there’s a man here to see Chayoung.

They were really just minding their own business after the speeches had ended, piling their plates with food and actually having a pleasant conversation when this trenchcoat clad man had burst in, fast on his feet, and Chayoung had stood up.

Yeonhwa blinks, uncomprehending, as she watches the interaction in front of her. The man — Mr Black Trenchcoat — is walking rather swiftly towards Chayoung. There’s some decided determination in his steps and when he reaches her —

Yeonhwa blinks even more. He cups Chayoung’s face. His thumbs brush her cheeks, and it’s so… unlike Chayoung to just stand there and take it.

Or, well, it doesn't exactly look like she’s taking it, she’s… enjoying this. Oh, Yeonhwa registers. Obviously Chayoung knows his man, but she hadn’t mentioned a boyfriend, or a partner or a husband or an anyone. Yeonhwa watches, puzzled, as they look into each other’s eyes and Chayoung finds some reassurance there.

Chayoung puts her hands against the man’s, and she says something to him, and he nods and backs down.

“Yeonhwa-yah.” Chayoung turns to her abruptly. Yeonhwa is shocked out of her confused stupor. She’s picking up her stuff, her phone goes into her pocket and her handbag to Mr Black Trenchcoat. “I need to go. I’ll keep in touch.”

“Chayoung!” Yeonhwa calls, a little louder than intended, “Promise.”

Chayoung blinks at her, halfway out of her chair. “Promise?”

“Promise me you’ll keep in touch,” Yeonhwa elaborates. “You always say you will but you never do. Promise me.”

Chayoung swallows, and Yeonhwa’s sure they’re feeling the same thing now. She bites her lip, then she holds out her hand, fisted, save for her pinky finger. “I promise.”

Yeonhwa smiles. She reciporcates, twining her pinky with Chayoung’s, and sealing the promise.

“I’m here for you, remember?” Yeonhwa implores, before Chayoung can take off.

Chayoung nods, and then Chayoung hugs her, squeezing tight. “Thank you, Yeonhwa. Thank you so much.”

Yeonhwa smiles wider, tightening her arms around Chayoung for a moment before letting her go. “Take care, hm?”

Chayoung nods. “You too.”

And she runs off with Mr Black Trenchcoat who holds her handbag for her and seems to treasure her, because he holds her hand tight. She can tell, by the look on his face, what Chayoung means to him. He’s also well-versed in loving Hong Chayoung, Yeonhwa thinks, and Yeonhwa smiles, for if her first love is happy, then she’s happy.

“Byeonhosa-nim,” Chayoung says, as she meets Vincenzo outside Geumga Plaza, after parking her car. They had maintained their speed well within the permission of the law.

“Byeonhosa-nim,” Vincenzo replies.

Chayoung sighs, walking to him, and then pushing him along as they enter the plaza. “I need to talk to you about something,” She says, “But let’s get to the bottom of whatever you were gifted first.”

Vincenzo gulps. He’s in for a scolding, isn’t he?

Reckless, he prepares himself. Reckless, thoughtless, inconsiderate.

Jipuragi is cold when they enter, no sign Mr Nam around. Vincenzo retrieves the earrings, the envelope, and presents it to Chayoung.

“It can’t be anyone else,” He says. He stands at the table, leaning over Chayoung, who’s sitting at the head. “It has to be him.”

Chayoung hums, finding the earrings she’s wearing now extremely unnerving. She reaches up to undo them. “Do we have any way to confirm it?”

Vincenzo tilts his head. “Jang Hanseo?”

Chayoung sets the earrings down on the table, drums her fingers over it. She doesn’t like this idea — she still hasn’t warmed up to him. “I suppose he’s our best bet.”

Vincenzo nods, retrieves his phone from his pocket, ready to call but he’s not sure what stops him.

“Something’s wrong,” Chayoung says, to a pin-drop silence.

Vincenzo stares at the door, something sinking in his gut.

“Byeonhosa-nim,” Chayoung says, now desperate. She stands. “Did you see anyone when we came in?”

Vincenzo wants to shake his head, but he can’t take his eyes off the door. “Byeonhosa-nim,” He says, a warning. “Get down.”

That’s when the first bullet comes.

It’s cramped in the space between Vincenzo’s sofa and the bay window, but it’s their best bet. Chayoung tucks her knees to her chest, scooting closer to the corner to accommodate Vincenzo.

“No one’s picking up,” Vincenzo whispers. “We can’t go out.”

Chayoung swallows. Her throat is extremely dry. “So we wait it out, then.”

Vincenzo exhales, nodding. “Do you need anything?”

She shakes her head. “Come closer, they’ll see you from side of the sofa.”

So Vincenzo comes closer, and in this narrow space, the tension is undeniable.

“I’m sorry,” He says abruptly. “About earlier today.”

“What about earlier today?”

“For coming to… rescue you.”

“Rescue me,” Chayoung scoffs. “I should’ve seen something like this coming, you know.”

“What…” Vincenzo bites his lip. “What exactly are you referring to, byeonhosa-nim?”

“A showdown. Maybe one of us getting shot or something,” Chayoung lets her head fall back against the wall. “Losing.”

Vincenzo doesn’t want to snatch hope from his partner. Not after all he’s already taken from her. We haven’t lost yet — “We —”

“Also your… overprotection.”

That certainly makes the gears in his head still. “My…”

“I mean, I know it’s practical. I’m not a member of the Mafia, I can’t fight people like you. I’m just a regular lawyer, only fucked up slightly more than the system usually makes us.”

Vincenzo pulls his knees up to his chest as well, then settles his forehead against them and just… looks.

“I hate that I can’t fend for myself.”

“Who said you can’t?” Vincenzo tries, but it sounds empty to his own ears as well.

“Stop it, byeonhosa-nim. You of all people know I that I can’t. You saw me that day, when they came to kill me in my house.”

Vincenzo blinks up at her. “You can still learn.”

Chayoung glances at him, sideways, through her lashes. “You think so?”

He hums. “You can learn some martial arts. Or do it the organic way.”

“The organic way?”

“Let yourself loose out on the street. Offend some people. I’m sure you’ll find a sparring partner eventually.”

Chayoung snorts. “A sparring parter? Is that how you learnt?”

“I’m sure it added to my experience,” Vincenzo considers.

“But seriously,” Chayoung says. “Martial arts?”

He nods. “They don’t only help with strength; balance of mind, self-control, expelling worldly desires…”

“Expelling worldly desires,” Chayoung mocks. “Sounds like your exact opposite.”

Vincenzo has nothing to add. The unbearable silence roots itself more firmly, solidifies itself in their dark surroundings.

“Byeonhosa-nim,” Chayoung says, a timid moment later. “Once you get your gold out… what will you do?”

Vincenzo finds his eyes looking away from Chayoung for the first time since they’ve settled here. He swallows. “Genuinely?”

“Genuinely.”

“I want to stay here.”

“In Korea?”

“With you.”

Chayoung goes still. “With me?”

Vincenzo finds it in himself to look at her again. “Do you still not know?”

“Of course I know,” She says. “I just… didn’t expect a confession in a situation like this.”

“I’ll be more predictable in the future,” Vincenzo promises. “Can I have another chance?”

Chayoung laughs, now, high, hysterical. “You don’t get another chance at a confession.”

“So that’s how it works,” Vincenzo says, to his knees. “Then I suppose your expectations can’t get worse.”

Chayoung glares at him.

“I love you.”

Chayoung stops glaring at him. “You love me?”

Vincenzo nods. “I do.”

“You…”

“I just want you to know,” He says. “You don’t have to reply.”

So Chayoung doesn’t. She stares ahead, at the arm of the sofa, and says nothing.

Well, Vincenzo thinks. This wasn’t how he had expected this to go.

“Byeonhosa-nim,” Chayoung says. “You can’t practice law here.”

“I’ll study for the bar exam.”

“You won’t have to, though,” She continues. “You don’t have to work another day in your life.”

“What do you suggest I do, then?”

“You can stay home. Maybe you can learn how to cook. Or clean the place.”

“You’re trying to domesticate me.”

“Is it working?”

Vincenzo tilts his head. “... A little.”

Chayoung laughs. “That won’t be too bad, though, would it? You could be my house-husband.”

“Getting a little ahead of yourself, byeonhosa-nim?”

“We’re engaged,” Chayoung argues. “I’m just discussing our marriage.”

Vincenzo smiles, huffs out a laugh. “I adore you.”

Chayoung glances at him, shy. She looks at her knees for a moment, then speaks softly. “Me too.”

There’s a lull in conversation. The air is solid. Chayoung gulps, and she shifts closer.

“Tell me if you’re not okay with this, hm?”

Vincenzo looks at her leaning in and closes his eyes. She’s steeled herself, coming closer with purpose. Vincenzo waits for the softness to come, for something to go off within him, because if being with Chayoung sets him alight, kissing Chayoung —

Doesn’t happen.

Vincenzo’s apartment’s door is kicked down in a flourish, and there are footsteps everywhere, and Chayoung is holding her hands above her head now.

Vincenzo turns to face the music. It’s about time, he supposes. He isn’t supposed to have good things in life, anyway. He’s a murderer.

He exhales, cracks his neck, and turns, ready to stand and fight at any moment. But it’s Mr Nam, who holds a torchlight to his face, blinking owlishly.

“So you’re here,” He says, then looks at Chayoung. “Did I interrupt something?��

“You… took them down by yourselves?” Chayoung asks for the third time, in disbelief.

Around the large, make-shift table at Toto’s, the tenants nods and chorus a we did for the third time.

Chayoung looks at Vincenzo. “They took them down by themselves.”

Vincenzo nods, and for the third time, says, “They did, tesoro.”

Chayoung processes it. “So… there’s nothing left to do now?”

“We need to clean up,” Heesoo-unnie says. “Those bastards are all still laying dead on the floor.”

“Right,” Chayoung says, nodding. “I’m sorry, you said you took down Jang Hanseok’s men all by yourselves?”

In the end, it’s not too hard to find Jang Hanseok, even less hard to confine him to his suffering. Choi Myunghee is served as she deserves, and Vincenzo and Chayoung lay low for three months for the discoveries to blow over.

It won’t be enough to cover their trail, they know, but the gold and the Guillotine file are in their hands, and the world could use some order in chaos.

Vincenzo does, eventually, end up as Chayoung’s house-husband. He has her dinner ready every evening she returns from work or her taekwondo class, and his world’s a happier place for it.

In deep evening, when the city picks up life and the city scents sleep, they sometimes go out for dinner and drinks, or game night with their Geumga family, or Chayoung catches a movie with Yeonhwa.

And at late night, when it’s just them against the dying cityscape, Chayoung will cup her husband’s face in her hands and remind him of his place in the world. Vincenzo will be grateful for it until he can handle it, and then some more, for what is love, if not growth?

#tvn vincenzo #vincenzo cassano #hong cha young #chayenzo #chayenzo fic #vincenzo fic #vincenzo canon divergence #whovie writes

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bruh-haikyuu · 4 years

Text

@arcangel-wings REQUESTED: Heya! I’m new to your blog and I really like your writing! Can I request Tenma Udai with an s/o who’s a baker while he’s in hs? So like he’s a delinquent and she’s a sweetheart who’s always giving people the stuff she bakes? Everyone thinks it’s weird but they fit together kinda thing 🥺?

A/N: Thanks for requesting!! This is über cute. Fem!Reader as alluded in the request^^

kilig. | udai tenma

word count: 2155

warnings: manga spoilers!!

(n.) the rush or the inexplicable joy one feels after seeing or experiencing something romantic

“Chocolate is the ingredient for love~!” you say after pouring what seems to be an entire bucketful of chocolate chips into your bowl.

Your friend Saeko has seen just about enough of your nonsensical chatter about baking, your boyfriend and your abundant love for both. Already exhausted from a recent scolding by the vice-principal, she decides that it’s better off to smile and nod rather than try to come up with a snarky remark for your innocent mania.

“T-That’s a lot of chocolate,” she blurts out. When she picks up her spatula from the bowl, the girl grumbles at the sight of a liquidy trail drizzling down the utensil. “Ahh geez, it’s not supposed to be like this, isn’t it? Katagiri-sensei’s going to fail me again...”

You smile and hand her a bowl of flour. “Don’t worry, Saeko-chan. Just add a bit more flour and you’re good to go! You can never go wrong with cookies.”

The halo above your head is nearly visible. Saeko swears she can even hear angels singing to her in the background as you mix away on your fragrant bowl of dough. You don’t even seem real—from your angelic grin down to your overwhelmingly flowery aura. It’s tough enough to imagine that you’d ever talk to her of all people, but to imagine you’d go for a guy who’s just as much of a thug...

Unthinkable! Saeko shakes her head. She’d thought you’d pulled a joke on her the first time you announced that you were dating... him. Udai Tenma, star of the Boys’ Volleyball Club, a red-hot beacon of undomesticated temper.

She’d always known you liked him—though which part of him you liked is somewhat still a mystery to her—and as much as Saeko wanted to protect you from those ruffians, that absolutely infatuated look in your eyes was too much to bear. And eventually, she succumbed to your incessant ambitions of high school romance.

“You’re a saint, dude,” she sighs longingly. “I don’t get how you’re still dating that guy. I’m not really one to say anything about this, but don’t you think Udai’s kind of a jerk with the way he treats you?”

You chuckle, like a sweet grandmother about to tell a nostalgic tale to her grandchildren.

“I suppose you can say that Tenma-kun is a bit shy. He likes to act tough and mighty when he’s around people, but he’s actually just a normal boyfriend with a very sweet tooth and a penchant for manga.”

Saeko scowls. “Normal’s normal, but you have to at least let him know that you have your limits too. I really can’t stand leaving the two of you alone, w-what if Udai breaks your heart, or worse—”

“Tanaka-san. If you have time for chatter back there, then surely, you’re finished with your cookies?” at the sound of the grouchy Home Economics teacher at the front of the class, Saeko quickly returns to her bowl in a sorry attempt to look busy.

Deciding to humor her interest, you lean towards her and whisper lowly. “I’ll be fine, Saeko-chan. He may not look like it, but Tenma-kun’s actually very cute.”

In her mind, it’s much easier to simply handcuff herself to you so that you’re under her watch at all times possible. But your gaze is nothing short of genuine—you really love this guy, and the fact that you’re still with him, assures Saeko even just a tiny bit that he might not be so bad after all... with you at least.

You’re already storming away in your little world of baking. It amuses your best friend whenever you’re off making your personal masterpieces (“‘Masterpiece’ is absolutely right!” she’d say while stuffing her mouth full of your mini tarts). Each and every one of your creations are whipped up with the utmost amount of love and care, and for just the right reasons, everyone’s been pestering you to set up a bakery after high school. Your regular patrons just happen to be the Karasuno Boys’ Volleyball Club—with the addition of the lively Coach Ukai who is rather fond of how much filling you put into your red bean buns.

As regular as regular can be, you’ve found yourself visiting the Volleyball Club clubroom after school every Wednesday to hand out your treats to not only your aloof boyfriend, but also to his friends, his coach and the prostrated manager who direfully needs a pick-me-up. And suddenly, you’re ‘Karasuno’s Cookie Goddess’.

“Ah, you’re making another batch, Y/N?” Saeko perks up when you split your dough in half.

“Yep!” you giggle, essentially a high school student drowning in love. “I want to make something special for Tenma-kun today.”

“... What’s the occasion? Is it his birthday or something?”

You shrug, face absolutely alight. “Nope, I just want to give him a surprise~”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Tenma isn’t exactly unapproachable. It’s just that people tend to avoid him at all costs. Perhaps you were just bold... or remarkably stupid, but if you hadn’t addressed him that day, life would’ve probably been drabber.

Your parents and your friends (with emphasis towards your overprotective Saeko-chan) had shown their unfiltered concern when the news of your relationship circulated like wildfire. What was the analogy they used, again?

“You’re like a rabid bridge troll and a rabbit! It doesn’t work!” You could only laugh at their valiant efforts of a correlation... if they were really trying to make one. But after a few more reassuring pushes and awkward family dinners, they’ve come to be more lenient about your little ‘liaison’.

But you never feel like you have to worry when Tenma is around. In fact, when Tenma is around, you feel calm—even when he’s spouting off curses to a taller rival.

There’s a warmth unlike any other when he holds or kisses you. And though you’d have to drive him through hell and waters to say it out loud, you already know that every action he does for you is out of love. Words are material, it’s the action that counts, right?

“Sorry for the intrusion~!” you call out into the open doors of the Boys’ Volleyball Club’s space.

A flash of obnoxious yellow hair flashes before your eyes and suddenly, an imposingly tall figure appears in front of you out of nowhere. “Cookie Goddess!”

“Good afternoon, Yukimura-kun,” you smile. “Is there only you right now?”

“I’m here too, Y/N-chan,” the lax-faced captain Tokito emerges from the room in the midst of zipping up his jacket. His eyes flicker towards the packages in your hands and a smile cracks on his face. “Ooh, chocolate chip cookies today~”

You quickly raise the fragrant bags of treats into their view, bringing in the remaining swamp of boys from the clubroom. Suddenly, the common hallway is blocked by an influx of starving teenagers who are rampaging on about your existence.

“So good...” Yukimura murmurs dreamily, mouth full of chocolate. “Man, anyone would be lucky to have you as their wife if you were to cook them these everyday.”

A brazen first-year with frosted tips elbow him and sighs. “Too bad you’re taken, huh, Y/N-chan-senpai? If it were me instead of him, I’d always make it a point that ‘Heeey... guess what my girlfriend made for me today~ Isn’t she the best—”

“Oi, brat. Whose girlfriend do you think you’re talking about?”

The gangle of boys freeze up simultaneously at the grouchy voice behind you (aside from Tokito, who’s yawning at the whole ordeal). Whipping around to the dark aura boring holes into your back, you immediately light up at Tenma’s presence.

“Tenma-kun~!” you launch at him with your arms wide open. You’re ready for some sort of swerve from him, so you make sure you protect his bag of cookies with your arm... You’ve learned this counter-attack the hard way, of course.

But what you don’t expect is that your boyfriend makes no move to avoid you at all.

“H-hey! Don’t just lunge at me like that, you idiot! What if you fell down and knocked your head open?” Ah, at least the embarrassed comment is there.

You can only smile at him kindly. From the edge of your eyes, you swear that you can see a light blush dusting his face as your boyfriend gains newfound interest in your shoes.

“Come with me for a while,” he finally grumbles, effectively breaking the silence between the both of you. Grabbing your hand, Tenma leads you down the little aluminium staircase, eliciting small grates from the steps below you and a mass of curious whispers from the group you’d just left behind.

“Hey, Udai-kun~” Tokito calls out, a lilt of roguery in his tone, “Make sure to get back in time for practice, okay? And keep Y/N-chan in one piece, won’t you? We can’t get another Cookie Goddess if you don’t.”

When he turns into a secluded corner away from the prying eyes of his teammates, you can hear him audibly huff and mutter something under his breath. As silence lingers between you, you nearly forget about the reason why you came to visit.

“I made some cookies for you, Tenma-kun,” you say to him, urging the neatly wrapped bundle into his hands. “I hope you like it.”

You can clearly see the hesitation in his eyes when he takes it in his hands. You can probably guess why.

(“Y/N, your skills with a knife are scary, dude,” Saeko grimaced as she watched you trail over the dough with the gleaming blade of your paring knife.

“Aaand... done!” you proudly wiped the sweat off your forehead. It would’ve been more helpful with a cookie cutter around, but you figured that it would’ve been more heartfelt otherwise.

‘Heartfelt’, you pondered on the word for a moment. Would this be too heartfelt for such a rag-tag person like Tenma? It would probably be better to go for something simpler, just like the other days...

Nah. You shook your head as you chucked the tray of heart-shaped cookies into the oven.)

You’re hoping for a shocked response from him, but Tenma only grumbles meekly. You brace yourself for another scolding for acting too chummy with him, or being too affectionate, or—

“You shouldn’t get too close with other guys.”

Wait.

Tenma crosses his arms, the curls of his hair falling gently over his forehead. His pink cheeks darken into a soft maroon. “If they found out you’re giving me this sort of special treatment, they’ll be all over you the next day, asking for it too... I don’t like it.”

The laugh that rises in your throat threatens to burst. What is this, you think. Your stomach hurt from the mere image of this innocent “delinquent” professing his jealousy for you. If he was like this all the time, wouldn’t that be an interesting change... Aah, your boyfriend really is cute, isn’t he?

A giggle escapes you and you watch him jolt in chagrin. “Tenma-kun, you’re so red.”

“I’m not!” he yells rather briskly, then shoots back at you. “You can’t say I’m red when you were all burning up as you were giving me these heart-shaped cookies.”

Touché. “I’m glad you like them, Tenma-kun.”

His gaze visibly softens up as you give him an angelic smile. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

At times like this, you really do see the boy who’d shyly confessed to you under the shade of the summer ginko tree. It wasn’t anything of a distant memory, it was just that Tenma’s usual demeanour and your unrelenting tolerance hindered the both of you from being completely outward with one another. Maybe something like this isn’t so bad after all.

“I-I have to go back to practice. You can go home by yourself, right?” your boyfriend clears his throat, urging you to leave.

Though you wished the moment would last a little longer, you know there are other countless shared opportunities with him. “Mm-hm! You do your best in practice, okay?”

He ruffles your hair and chuckles endearingly.

“Atta girl. Now go home before Tokito catches me getting all touchy-feely with you.”

Bidding him goodbye, you sullenly trudge away from your boyfriend (and his friends waving back at you from the balcony). Then the idea strikes you.

Special cookies ought to have a special flair to them, no?

Cupping your hands around your mouth like a megaphone, you shout, loud enough for his teammates to hear. “I love you, Tenma-kun~!”

And the crowd goes wild.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

From: Tenma-kun ♡

Subject: Untitled

(15:58) Now Tokito’s all over me thanks to you, making me do extra diving drills. You better make more of those cookies as compensation, idiot. Be prepared for it.

(15:58) Btw, don’t forget to look both ways when you cross the street on the way home. If you get into an accident, you won’t be able to apologize to me properly.

(15:58) ... Hey.

(16:00) I love you too.

#bruh haikyuu writing #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyu #udai tenma #udai tenma x reader #haikyuu fluff #udai tenma imagine #udai tenma scenario #karasuno x reader #udai x reader #little giant x reader #sfw

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angrylizardjacket · 3 years

Text

dirtbags // 1: Charlotte

Summary: Motley Crue High School AU with The Pack (Lola, Charlotte, Peach, & Eileen); Winter, 1984. Charlotte’s halfway through her Junior year of High School when Lola arrives in town, and becomes a part of Charlotte’s life almost by accident.

Tommy seems to fall for any girl he hasn’t grown up with, Nikki and Charlotte are in agreement that their friendship becoming public knowledge would be social suicide for them both, Vince is a tool, and Eileen is still mad at him for what happened over Summer.

A/N: 8829 words. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @misscharlottelee this has literally been in the works for what’s felt like a year, but i decided that i can’t keep putting it off forever, so here. part 1. i think im going to try and put these out weekly?? maybe sooner?? but i adore you and i of course absolutely adore @josaphinebaker so i’m glad to finally let you all enjoy the long-awaited, multi-part HS AU (me, not posting writing for months: AND WHAT’S THIS? THE HS AU WITH A STEEL CHAIR --) ft. a softer world quotes

who said life can’t be an adventure? because whoever said that is probably the villain.

There’s a place for everything, and everything has it’s place. That’s they way the world works, at least, that’s the motto the rest of the cheerleading team seems to adhere to almost religiously. Charlotte, who’s been on the team for almost a full year and a half, since the start of her Sophmore year, can’t see the world so black and white. It’s not that she signed up to be a Cheerleader to fulfil some bitchy, blonde stereotype, it’s more that she had free time to fill and thought it would be fun. It took her a few months to find her footing once she’d been offered a place on the team, and was quickly thrust into her school’s the social spotlight, but she managed in the end, and had been managing ever since, mostly.

“Charlie, you’re so lucky,” Tommy, her cousin, lamented to her, driving her home after cheer practice, and marching band, had finished for the day. He was still in his uniform, as was Charlotte, and she gave him a sidelong glance, picking at the nail polish on her thumb. She doesn’t even give him an answer; ever since she’d joined the team, he had felt the need to wax poetic about the other cheerleaders and their uniforms. It’s so familiar that she doesn’t even need to prompt him into mooning over seeing Pamela in the cafeteria that day.

“She’s never going to date you if you don’t talk to her,” Charlotte’s smile is sly as her gaze slides back to the road, and the sun drifting towards the horizon.

“If Pam ever found out I’d looked at her, she’d probably just spit on me, call me pathetic or some shit,” Tommy’s eyeroll is implied by the flatness of his tone, but Charlotte can’t help but laugh.

“Oh Tommy, everyone looks at Pam,” she reminds him, and Tommy lets out an annoyed whine.

“I know,” he groans, clearly not cheered by that fact, feeling ever the more hopeless, and they fall into silence. Charlotte reaches down beside her seat and lifts a lever, pushing the seat back so she could comfortably rest her feet on his dashboard.

“Did you hear someone finally bought the MacCready burger joint? Dad was talking about it yesterday,” Tommy says mildly, making a left-hand turn onto their street. Charlotte raises her eyebrows, intrigued, but doesn’t speak. Tommy knows her well enough to take her silence as an invitation to go on, “Mrs Mac is going into hospice care and apparently some guy bought it and moved into town.”

“Oh shit, poor Mrs Mac,” Charlotte muses, and crosses her ankles on the dash, “hopefully their food is edible now.”

“Their burgers were great!” Tommy protested loudly.

“Their burgers were trash, Tommy! You’re just a rat -!”

“I’m not a rat!” He argues back, pulling into the gas station around the corner from their house. Tommy pulls up beside one of the pumps, and Charlotte gets out to browse the various snacks on offer inside the service station.

“Afternoon, Mick,” Charlotte calls out to the gas station attendant, the guy who’s been working here since he was fourteen, who’s currently got an electrical apprenticeship every other day. Charlotte realizes she might know too much about him considering he barely communicates in grunts most of the time. It’s not that he can’t speak, it’s just that he has a well documented dislike of her over exuberant cousin.

As expected, Mick doesn’t look up from his copy of Rolling Stone behind the counter, but makes a noise of acknowledgement.

Before Tommy has finished filling the tank, an unfamiliar figure enters the gas station, breezing past Charlotte and snatching up a packet of pork rinds, moving to the drinks fridge and taking a can of lemonade. The person is a young woman, though Charlotte doesn’t get a good look at her face; she’s got silky, black hair down to the small of her back, beneath a backwards baseball cap, and she’s the most notable of her clothes are her scuffed, black boots, and her oversized, black denim jacket littered with patches and pins.

When she puts her items on the counter in front of Mick, she pauses, frowning at the display, and Tommy enters the shop with an oblivious smile, asking if Charlotte had decided on anything.

“Can I help you?” Mick asks flatly, and the girl holds up a single finger, the universal signal for wait, and Mick huffs, but remains quiet. The girl adds a packet of gum to her haul, and leans her elbows on the counter.

“And a pack of Marlboros.”

Mick scowls.

“How old are you?”

“Are you being paid enough to care?” She responds, voice a low, challenging alto, and after a moment of deliberation, Mick actually shrugs, and turns to the cigarette display, picking out a pack for her as she pulled a few bills from her back pocket. After everything’s paid for, and the various food and drink had been stashed in the numerous pockets of her jacket, the girl is quick to open the cigarettes.

“They’re for my dad,” she explains, taking one out and putting it between her lips, grinning, “mostly.”

She passes a bewildered Tommy and Charlotte on the way out, giving them a flat look over, eyebrow raising minutely at the sight of Charlotte’s cheerleading uniform, but she’s quickly out the door. Tommy, flabbergasted at her display of confidence, marches straight up to counter and leans on it like he’d seen the woman do.

“A pack of -”

“Fuck off,” Mick tells him, before Tommy even finishes his sentence. Charlotte snorts a laugh, approaching the counter with a bottle of diet coke.

“Fifteen bucks on pump three,” Tommy sighs, pulling out his wallet, “and Charlie’s drink.”

“Do you know her, Mick?” Charlotte asks, still smiling, mind playing over the interaction.

“Do I look like I know her?” Mick grumbles, counting the handful of quarters Tommy had passed him with a ten dollar bill. Tommy, however, has never in his life taken Mick’s constant foul mood to heart, even when he probably should.

“He loves me, secretly, I know he does,” Tommy grinned when they were back in the car, heading to Charlotte’s house to drop her off, “we’ve known each other for five years, we’ll be friends any day now.”

“Tommy, he’s three days away from just decking you when you go to pay.”

“Which is a step up from when you said he’d throw me in front of traffic,” Tommy, ever the optimistic dumbass, chooses to look on the bright side. Tommy wears his affection on his sleeve, and seems to find himself trying to befriend anyone who would sooner fight him, if his hero-worship of local punk Nikki Sixx is anything to go by. It’s with a painful clarity that Charlotte realizes if he ever meets the girl from the gas station, he’s going to fall in love with her almost immediately.

Which makes Charlotte’s accidental and secret friendship with Nikki Sixx awkward.

“Oh Miss Lee,” Nikki whistles at her the following morning, wearing a grin that’s all teeth, “you know just what a guy likes to see on a Thursday morning.” He’s leering at her, leaning on the mesh of the fence, fingers hooked into the metal as he presses himself against it, his gaze trained on the pleat of her cheer uniform split upon her thigh over her tights.

“Every time you speak, I consider vehicular homicide,” Charlotte tells him with a sigh, straightening out her skirt, already resigned to the fact the rest of her free period was about to be co-opted.

“Then I’m glad you can’t drive,” Nikki’s still grinning, throwing his bag over the fence, into the garden Charlotte had thought was peaceful enough to study in.

“It’s the only thing keeping you alive,” she says, plastering a fake, sweet smile on her face, closing her biology textbook as Nikki vaults the fence a few feet away from her. She pulls her jacket a little tighter around herself, in an attempt to ward off the slight chill of the end of semester air.

Never in Charlotte’s life would she have intentionally tried to befriend Nikki Sixx. How was she supposed to know that two of her free periods coincided with when he liked to show up to school? And that the secluded garden area out behind the library where she liked to study in said free periods was the easiest place to sneak in?

She’s threatened to turn him in more times than he can remember, and he spits back that she should just find a new place to study, but she keeps showing up, and she never turns him in, and by now most of Nikki’s flirting is harmless.

They were both very much of the opinion that having a public friendship would be bad for the both of them; Nikki’s got more than a reputation of his own, both because his name technically isn’t Nikki, but he fights anyone who calls him Frank, and because he’s kind of a slut. Also there’s still an unconfirmed rumour about him being expelled from his first high school back in Seattle, since he’d joined their school a semester in Freshman year. Everyone’s too afraid to ask. Charlotte knows the cheerleaders aren’t above making hell for one of their own if they were caught fraternizing with someone like him.

That being said, Nikki had made it very clear that he’d rather saw off his arm than admit that they were even acquaintances, scoffing about how he’d lose any and all street cred he’d ever had if his friends found out he was hanging around Miss Everyone’s Best Friend Charlotte Lee. At the time, she’d taken offence to his tone, but she quickly came to learn that that’s just how Nikki is sometimes.

He offers her a cigarette from the pack in his pocket like he always does, sitting opposite her on the picnic bench instead of going to class, his bag still on the grass where he’d thrown it. Like always, Charlotte turns it down, but it does remind her-

“Saw a girl yesterday at Mick’s gas station that reminded me of you,” Charlotte flips to the back page of her notebook, which was already littered with little drawings, and starts scribbling idly.

“She hot?”

“I guess?” Charlotte says after a moment of consideration, “didn’t get to see her long enough to really be able to tell.” Nikki hums thoughtfully, and Charlotte, without looking up, “she asked Mick for cigarettes and he was like ‘how old are you?’ and she was like ‘are you being paid enough to care?’“

Nikki takes a long draft from his own cigarette, and kindly turns to the side to blow smoke into the wind, instead of directly into Charlotte’s face, as he used to do, or like he does when he’s annoyed.

“Mick would have mad respect for a move like that,” Nikki snorts, and when Charlotte looks up from her notebook, she sees him looking off into the distance, giving a genuine smile at the mental image. Maybe this is why she puts up with him, these rare genuine moments. He raises the cigarette to his lips again, and looks back at her, eyebrows raised, as if prompting her to go on. Charlotte looks back at her notebook.

“It inspired Tommy to try and buy smokes too, but Mick shut him down fast; I swear, if we show up when he’s clocking off, he’s going to K.O Tommy the first chance he gets.”

“Which is a step up from when you said he’d throw him in front of traffic,” Nikki notes, and Charlotte pauses, frowning. She hadn’t realised her hyperbolic threats on Mick’s behalf were a standard unit of measurement for how much he did or didn’t like her cousin. They were bullshit! Why did anyone take them seriously? Charlotte’s often astounded at her own credibility, and how much people tend to take her at her word without question.

“What’s she look like?” Nikki asks, flicking his ash into the grass, bringing Charlotte out of her thoughts.

“Who?”

“The girl from the gas station.”

“Oh,” Charlotte pauses, thinking, finally settling on, “she was wearing heaps of dark shit, had black hair, maybe that’s why I thought of you. I don’t know who she is though, didn’t recognize her from anywhere.” She adds, and Nikki hums thoughtfully, nodding. With his free hand, he snatches her pen out of her grip, despite her yelp of protest, and begins doodling pentagrams on the back cover of her notebook.

“You free tomorrow night?”

“I’d rather die than date you.”

“Charlie, you’re not my type -”

“Nikki, your type is tits and a heartbeat.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d fuck you, but I’d rather be castrated than date you,” Nikki responds flatly, and Charlotte quickly shuts up, scowling, “but my band has a gig at a place that doesn’t card, so if you and that overgrown Labrador you call a cousin can sneak away from mommy and daddy for the night, you’re more than welcome to come party with the big kids.” He smirked, flicking Charlotte’s pen back at her. Charlotte’s annoyance has simmered down at his offer, considering his words.

“Nikki Sixx inviting me to see his band,” she mused, sly smile curling at the corners of her lips, mischief glinting in her eyes, “you like me, don’t you? You like Miss Everyone’s Best Friend. Soon I’m going to be your best friend too!” At least she was self aware enough about her people-pleasing tendencies to poke fun at his scorn.

“I like that you’re cousin’s obsessed with me, so bring him too,” Nikki’s quick to correct, but his heart’s not fully in it, if the smile he’s failing to repress is anything to go by, “I’m just in it for the ego trip, sweetheart.”

Charlotte gags at the pet name; the bell rings.

“She smells like an ash tray,” is the first thing Charlotte hears when she sits herself with the rest of the cheer squad at lunch, and she’s terrified for a moment that Heather, the Vice Captain of the squad, is talking about her. Discretely, Charlotte sniffs at her hair, worried that the perfume she’d spritzed to hide any of Nikki’s lingering smoke had worn off quickly. Heather’s not even looking at her, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially to the other gathered girls.

“Heather, half the people at this school smell like smoke,” Eileen cuts in as the voice of reason, taking a dainty bite of her food to punctuate her point. Heather’s expression sours.

“Yeah, but she’s pretty, why would she smoke?”

“Heather, you smoke,” Eileen rolls her eyes, and Heather sits back, crossing her arms, long, dainty fingers resting on her perfectly tanned and toned biceps.

“Yeah, but at least I have the decency not to smell like the bottom of an ashtray,” Heather raises an eyebrow, as if offering some form of challenge, and Charlotte watches Eileen bite back on a scathing retort, simply offering a withering smile, and continuing on with her lunch, “anyway,” Heather rolls her eyes, and starts up a new conversation with the girls on her other side, who were hanging onto her every word like it was gospel.

It’s quite possible that the tensions between Heather and Eileen may never actually die down, Charlotte considers, fiddling with the plastic-wrapped straw of her juice box. The thing is that Heather had only scored the position of Vice Captain of the cheerleading squad after Eileen, practically a shoe-in after two years on the squad and a pretty impressive acrobatic repertoire, publicly turned down the offer, quit, and joined the swim team the very next day, refusing to give a reason for any of her actions. A vicious joke circled the school about Heather being sloppy seconds, and despite Eileen never actually contributing to the joke in any way, or even acknowledging it, part of Heather still obviously resented her. The fact that Eileen still chose to sit with the cheerleaders despite not being one anymore, might also play into that, like she’s rubbing it in Heather’s face, even though she never would intend to do that.

Charlotte’s known Eileen for what feels like forever, since Summer camp in Grade School, living close enough to maintain a friendship, but not close enough that they were in the same district for Grade or Middle School. Both academically and socially minded young women, they’d found themselves in a number of clubs in those years that brought them face to face at meet or competitions, and thankfully, their local high school drew from a wider range of districts, finally bringing them together as allies, rather than competitors.

“Who were they talking about?” Charlotte asks quietly, stabbing her straw into her juice box, trying to keep their conversation discrete.

“A girl transferred into our grade -”

“On a Thursday?” Charlotte scoffs a little, “with three weeks left to go before Winter break?” And Eileen makes a noise in the back of her throat, an I know, it’s weird, right? Without saying any actual words.

“Something Fields; we just had French with her,” Eileen nods to where Heather’s now happily chattering with the other cheerleaders, earlier disagreement seemingly forgotten.

“Something?” Charlotte asked wryly, and Eileen gave her an amused look.

“Madame Laurent’s accent would butcher the name Sally, I’m surprised I managed to understand Fields,” and okay, she has a point, Madame Laurent’s French accent was half the reason any of the students studied the language, if only to understand her, because her English, while technically good, was sometimes incomprehensible.

“The girl didn’t correct her?”

“Nah, just kept quiet, embarrassed, I think,” Eileen mused, and Charlotte hummed thoughtfully, “though she did sit herself right next to Heather; bold move, I’ll applaud her for that.”

“Bet Heather didn’t like that,” Charlotte snickered quietly, and Eileen’s smile stretched into a full grin.

“She straight up moved the moment the girl put her bag down.”

“The poor girl,” Charlotte shook her head with a sigh, before clarifying, “not Heather, obviously.” Eileen snorted a laugh.

“What’s the new girl like?” Charlotte finds herself asking, intrigued.

“Quiet,” is Eileen’s immediate answer, “couldn’t get a good read on her, but she knows a decent amount of French.” But she deliberates for a moment, “looks kind of mean.” And for the barest moment, Charlotte frowns, mind flashing to the girl she’d seen at the gas station yesterday... it couldn’t be.

“Black hair?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I saw a girl at the gas station yesterday, black hair, kind of mean looking, Mick didn’t know her,” that was the big tip; Mick seemed to know all the gas station regulars, so she must be new. Eileen catalogued this information in her mind, but had no comment on it beyond a shrug, before reminding Charlotte that they had debate after school, and asking if Tommy would be sticking around to give her a lift home.

“He will be, he’s got practice until four too,” Charlotte said with a half smile, “and yes, he can give you a lift home too... Will Peach be needing one too?” She asked, referring to Eileen’s younger sister, but Eileen shook her head.

“She’s staying back until five every day this week to finish her science fair project, mom’s happy to pick her up - something about magnets this year - but I don’t want to wait around.”

“Wait, how long until the science fair?” Last year, Eileen, Charlotte, Tommy, and Vince Neil, who they’d still considered something of a friend at the time, had all come to support Peach in both her first year of high school, and her first science fair. Peach had come third, with a rather impressive display about which various household liquids killed plants fastest, and all three had cheered when she’d been given her ribbon, and Tommy and Vince spent the entire ride in the back of Peach and Eileen’s mom’s station wagon ranting about how she should have won, and scheming about how to best put a dead houseplant in their science teacher’s bed, like some low budget, home depot Scarface. Tommy may have become their friends via his place as a constant fixture in Charlotte’s life, and Vince simply because he had grown up as something of her neighbour and Tommy’s close friend, but their loyalty was absolute. Well, almost absolute. Vince was noticeably absent from their current roster of friends however, the then-four of them how vowed to make it a habit, and they could all tell Peach had been touched by the gesture, and Eileen, Charlotte, and Tommy were, at the very least, going to uphold that promise. A small smile plays on Eileen’s face.

“Next Tuesday, she’s so excited.”

if you put your mind to it, you can do anything. but you won’t.

So according to Eileen, Vince Neil is throwing a party on Saturday, and seeing as Charlotte’s parents still think the world of Vince after he’d been so kind of her after everything happened with her ex at the start of the year, she’s allowed to go. They went to middle school together, though he was always a year younger than her, in Tommy’s grade, and their parents were passive-aggressive PTA friends for a few years there, and, as mentioned before, he’d been genuinely sweet when she was at her lowest. Her parents don’t know that a week and a half into Summer break, right after he’d taken her to prom and promised to key her ex’s car if she asked, he started surfing, starting hanging out at the beach with the rest of the pretty, mean jocks spending their Summer in the sun, and had turned into a vain asshole. Or, well, more of a vain asshole than he already was.

Vince’s family was well off, and his parties were legendary, which is what made her parents agreeing to let her go so strange.

What they didn’t, and would never agree to, was letting her go to Nikki’s gig, so she didn’t even bother to ask. Instead, she asked to spend the weekend with Tommy and Athena. Her mother calls to confirm that that would be okay, Charlotte packs a duffle bag with outfits for the weekend, and her mother reminds her to take care of herself at the party the following night, kissing her on both cheeks when Tommy turns up in his beat up Vista Cruiser.

“Why are you hanging out with us tonight?” Tommy asks, frowning, still in the clothes he’d worn to school. Charlotte’s grip tightens on her duffle bag.

“Because we’re going out tonight.”

Immediately, Tommy’s posture straightens, and his expression lights up; he was delightfully easy to excite. Suddenly he was brimming with questions as he drove, fighting to keep his eyes on the road, and Charlotte let herself relax a little, glad to see he was onboard.

“Nikki Sixx’s band -”

“- is playing tonight!” Tommy finishes her sentence, his voice breaking on the last word out of excitement, though Charlotte kindly doesn’t comment, and it doesn’t stop Tommy’s eyes from sparkling, “he wrote it in sharpie in pretty much every bathroom in the school; you want to go?” Yeah, that sounds about par for the course for Nikki Sixx’s brand of advertising.

“You’re half in love with the guy,” Charlotte ignored Tommy’s spluttered protests, “so I wanna see what the hype is about,” she lied easily. She wasn’t a fan of lying to Tommy, he deserved better than that, but he also might crash if he knows that Nikki had personally invited them.

Tommy begs his mom to let them go, promising to be safe and be back by midnight, and the moment Charlotte vouches for him, his mother’s concern melts into agreement, and Athena complains that she’s never allowed to go anywhere. Tommy sticks his tongue out at her, and she kicks him in the shins, scowling, until Charlotte asks her to help her get ready, and Athena brightens considerably.

“Charlie you look like a badass!” Tommy delights when he steps out of the bathroom, hair all teased up, eyeliner expertly applied his waterline, wearing an outrageous outfit. He was going to fit in easily.

“Holy shit, dude, so do you -”

“Tommy! That’s my shirt!” Athena accused, storming over to him, trying to pull the tight, black tank top with the hot pink diamante lightning bolt off of him, despite his jacket over it, while he tried to slap her away.

“It looks better on me!” Tommy snapped, escaping her grasp and trying to hide in the bathroom.

“Dude, she’s thirteen, give her the shirt back, you can borrow one of mine,” Charlotte sighed, standing back from it all.

“Never!”

His mother called out if everything’s okay, and while Athena yelled that Tommy was stealing from her, Charlotte called back that she’d take care of it.

“Charlie, please,” Athena sulked, leaning against the closed bathroom door, while Tommy told his sister to piss off. Charlotte sighed, before giving the young girl an evaluative look.

“Would you let him wear it for five bucks?”

Athena squinted at her, seriously considering the offer; if Tommy had made it, there would be no way she would have accepted, but she knew Charlotte was good for it.

“Fine, but if he stretches it, I’m telling mom about his stash of Playboys,” she threatened, to which both Tommy and Charlotte made noises of surprise, Charlotte because she hadn’t known about that, and Tommy because he clearly didn’t think Athena knew about it either.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Tommy hisses, wrenching the door open. Athena turns arms crossed, smile smug, and gives him her best try me look. Tommy wrinkles his nose, but stalks into his room, grabbing a five ones from his wallet and giving them to Athena, who Charlotte had never seen so pleased before.

“I hate her,” Tommy seethed, and Charlotte petted his shoulder in solidarity.

“I know,” and then, “aren’t you going to be cold?”

“I’ve got another jacket.”

The pub, Kings’ Hotel, sits on the border between suburbia and the CBD, and Charlotte’s been past it a million times, has spent a considerable amount of time idly staring out the window of MacCready’s Diner across the road, but never actually been inside. Speaking of MacCready’s, there’s a ton of scaffolding around it that Charlotte definitely doesn’t remember, and the sign’s been taken down, so it appears Tommy’s gossip about it being under new management was true.

There’s no bouncer, but high schoolers and music were already spilling from the building by the time Charlotte and Tommy showed up. The music is decent, if a little heavy, but Charlotte knows she could definitely get into it if she wanted to. When she approaches the building, she notices a gaggle of vaguely recognizable people all in a cluster, huddle together while they smoked to keep warm in the cold night air.

“Hi Heather,” Tommy calls out to one, putting on his most winning smile, and when Charlotte gets a proper look, yeah she can see Heather with her hair sprayed up and lipstick shiny, give her cousin a sceptical look. She does, however, notice Charlotte, and her expression shifts to something faux sweet and coy, a show of being amicable to someone obviously associated with a fellow cheerleader, and she gives them both a wave.

“I thought you had a thing for Pam,” Charlotte asks quietly as they push their way into the pub.

“Charlie, I’m into any and every cheerleader I’m not related to, why should I deprive any of the other lovely young ladies by only focusing on one girl?”

“Gross,” was Charlotte’s only comment. Tommy ignored her.

It was kind of overwhelming at first, between the loud music, the crush of people she half-knew, the fact that the bartender didn’t even blink when Tommy ordered a beer, or the fact that Nikki Sixx was on stage in skin tight leather pants, playing bass like it was his God given mission in life.

Her ex and his best friend had also been kind of obsessed with Nikki and his band, and she was coming to understand the hype. Between the swirling lights, the people on the dancefloor, and the heat of the crowd, it was almost hypnotizing to be a part of.

“You should get a drink,” Tommy urges, and Charlotte hesitates. She’s had spiked punch before, half a glass of wine at a family get together when her mom had been tipsy and feeling indulgent, and a couple of sips of beer that her ex had offered her when they’d gone to parties together, but she’d never really...

“I don’t know what to order,” she admits, hesitant, but still raising her voice over the music. Tommy offers her his beer to taste, but Charlotte was already well aware of the fact that beer tasted like piss, and she turns him down. She tries to think back to what people order in TV shows and movies, and tentatively approaches the bar.

“Could I get a jack and coke?” She asks, just thankful that her voice doesn’t shake. The bartender looks her up and down, checking her out without a hint of subtlety, and Charlotte fights the urge to pull her jacket tighter around herself.

“Of course, honey, that’ll be five-fifty,” the bartender smirks, and Charlotte gives an uncertain smile back, thanking him and passing over a ten dollar note. He gives her a five change, along with her drink and a wink. Gross.

“What’d you get?” Tommy asks, when she finds him again, standing against the opposite wall, already halfway through his drink. Charlotte’s holding hers in her fingertips, nervous, taking a sip and scrunching up her whole face at the taste.

“Jack and coke,” she hisses as the alcohol burns. Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up at her bold choice, and asks if he can try it. She offers it easily, and he too makes a face as he drinks, but pretends like it’s great.

They see more people they recognize, people confused but glad to see them out. They’re almost immediately accosted by Keanu, yet another face Charlotte hadn’t been expecting to see, and he wraps them both up in a hug; he’s all dark hair and wide, easy smiles, somehow everyone’s friend in a way that’s so different from how Charlotte seems to be everybody’s friend, but he and Tommy get on like a house on fire. There’s a resilience they both seem to have, and a shared enthusiasm, despite the fact that Keanu was a Senior, a year above Charlotte, and a full two above Tommy, but his good nature seemed to override these boundaries; the moment Tommy mentions he’d been thinking of heading to the dancefloor, Keanu’s more than happy to join him.

Immediately Tommy gulps down the last mouthful and beer and the pair of boys see fit to start cutting shapes on the dance floor with wild abandon, and so Charlotte finds herself at a table at the back of the room with Heather, a few other cheerleaders and their boyfriends, and surprisingly, Vince. He’s in white leather pants, and they look cool as hell, but also it’s Vince, and Charlotte’s fighting back the urge to laugh.

“Charlotte Lee, you’re looking fine tonight,” Vince slide into the space beside her, and Charlotte doesn’t roll her eyes, or make a comment about how he looks like a greasy snowman, no matter how much she wants to.

“Surprised to see you here, Vince, where’s all your popular little surfer pals?” She asks sweetly, and Vince raises his eyebrows at her, a retort on the tip of his tongue.

“I forgot you two knew each other,” Heather says, and she pauses, clearly deliberating, something dangerous in her eyes, “didn’t you used to date?”

“No,” Charlotte blurts quickly, though Vince is just as quick to deny it, “we’re friends- we were friends; not anymore. We went to prom together, yes, but we never dated.” She clarifies quickly, body language all tight and uncomfortable, which manages to go all the way over Vince’s head, and his hand comes to rest on his heart, expression reading betrayal.

“How long have been known each other, Charlie, for you to say we’re not even friends -”

And maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the alcohol, but Charlotte snapped.

“We were friends for years, Vinny, then six months ago you decided to spend all your time with a bunch of tools and bragged about taking me to prom because I was a cheerleader, and also - oh yeah, remember this? - made one of your best friends cry,” Charlotte hissed venomously, shoulders still tense, fingers gripping the edge of the table. Vince scowled.

“Peach wasn’t-” the words spill from him automatically, but there’s a flicker of something that may just be shame in his eyes, so he drops his gaze and starts again; “my friends are not tools -”

“The Vince who was my friend wouldn’t skip school three days a week to get high and fuck on the beach!”

“It sounds like you two have a lot to work out...” Heather seems genuinely surprised, and while she’d been fishing for gossip, this was too much, and she graciously backed out of the conversation, pulling one of her friends over to the bar. Charlotte was suddenly aware of how hot it was in the bar, how sweaty and oppressive it all felt.

“People can fucking change, Charlotte,” Vince scowled.

“You didn’t change for the better, Vince, whatever the opposite of character growth is, it’s what happened to you.” Charlotte spat, and turned on her heel before he can respond. She didn’t want to stand on the side side of the road out the front, so she heads for the door labelled Beer Garden, and steps into the cool night air.

Once outside, she realises how quiet it is, and when she sees Nikki Sixx at one of the tables with a blonde girl giggling in his lap, she comes to the conclusion that the band must be on break. The Beer Garden is mostly populated by smokers, the people around Nikki being the cool, intimidating, stoner punk rockers that she’d figured would be here, but that she can’t bring herself to approach. It’s nice to take a moment to be alone, she finds, breathing in the crisp night air, head feeling clearer for it, looking up at the stars glittering overhead.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Vince is a fucking tool. He’d made Peach cry the week they got back to school, and Charlotte had vowed to never forgive him for it.

After a few minutes, Charlotte takes the time to really look at the people milling around, wondering if she actually recognised anyone. Much to her surprise, in the back corner of the courtyard area, she did.

Side by side, Mick from the gas station, and the mysterious girl who’d bought cigarettes from him, sitting on the edge of a planter full of dead shrubs, both smoking, neither speaking, reading one magazine between the two of them.

Charlotte’s not quite sure who’s more likely to stab her, between Mick and the girl, and Nikki’s band of misfits, but she hedges her bets and heads to the pair at the back.

“Having a good night, Mick?” Charlotte asks tentatively, before giving pause. They’re reading a ratty old copy of Hustler. Mick looks up, and lets go of his side of the magazine, letting the girl take it, to keep flipping idly through.

“The band’s okay,” Mick muses, and seems to realise that his cigarette has gone out when he tries to take a drag on it, and he pulls out a lighter and relights it, “how’s your night been?”

“It’s been alright, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Charlotte gives an awkward laugh, looking to the magazine, which Mick seems to either have forgotten about, or not realise that he’s reading porn in public, but finally the girl looks up.

“Someone cut out all the tits,” she’s got an accent Charlotte hadn’t noticed back at the gas station, and still can’t quite place, but that’s not the part she focuses on.

“What?”

The girl flips the magazine around to show a Farrah Fawcett look-alike posing suggestively, with her entire torso cut from the magazine, just leaving a hole where the cologne ad on the next page can be seen.

“Found it on the side of the road on the way here,” Mick says, like it suffices for an entire explanation. Instead of elaborating, he offers Charlotte a cigarette.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke,” an awkward silence follows, Charlotte with her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, while the girl close the magazine with a resounding slap and threw it over her shoulder into the dead shrubs, “I’m Charlotte.” Charlotte offers her hand. The girl looks at it, then to Charlotte’s face.

“From the gas station, the cheerleader” she says, tone unreadable, giving Charlotte a scrutinizing look, like she’s waiting for the blonde to shirk under it’s intensity. Charlotte doesn’t back down, and the girl finally gives her a firm handshake, “Lola.”

Silence followers, chatter filters over from the various other groups, Nikki’s laugh, loud and clear, above the rest. Neither Mick nor Lola makes room for Charlotte, so she sways idly from side to side, people watching the rest of the courtyard.

“Didn’t pick you for this type of scene,” Mick muses finally, crossing his ankles and fixing Charlotte with a strangely neutral expression, cigarette almost burned down to the butt where it’s poised between his lips, “that over-eager cousin of yours, sure, but this doesn’t seem like it’s your style.”

“Oh, Tommy is here,” Charlotte’s quick to clarify, looking around as if he were about to jump out of the bushes and irritate the rarely amicable Mick, “but, I don’t know,” she shrugged like coming out tonight wasn’t her idea, “I’m more than happy to give anything a go at least once; people at my school are kind of weirdly obsessed with the bass player, so I guess I wanted to see what the hype was about.”

Mick finished his cigarette as he considered her words, giving a pensive look to the bass player himself, still surrounded by a gaggle of fans, and eventually stubbed the last of the ash out against the edge of the planter he was sitting on, letting the butt fall, crumpled, to the ground.

“He’s the only one with any ounce of talent,” voice gruff, Mick’s approval comes as a surprise to both Charlotte, who’s eyes go wide at the statement, and Lola, who barks an unexpected laugh, that ends with her choking on the smoke in her lungs. Mick thumps her on the back, and she roughly when her breathing clears, tears watering in her eyes.

“Whoever writes their songs is half decent,” Lola points out, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, after which she dropped her own mostly burnt-out cigarette, crushing it under the heel of her boot. Yes, she has a point, but Charlotte’s curiosity gets the better of her.

“Can I ask...?” At her tentative tone, Lola immediately tenses, growing defensive, “are you Lola Fields?”

“Why?” Lola immediately snaps, and Charlotte raises her hands in surrender. Mick’s arms are crossed, looking with interest between the two girls.

“I think you go to my school,” Charlotte quickly clarifies, but Lola’s scowl deepens, as if wondering how she knew that, “do you take AP French with a tall, ginger girl?”

“I don’t really know who else is in the class,” Lola slowly tells her, but it’s not a no, which is all that matters. Charlotte nods, but doesn’t press the subject, “it’s weird that you know that much about me.” Lola adds.

“It’s barely anything,” Charlotte points out, baffled at the sudden defensiveness.

“You know my last name and that I do AP French,” Lola says, and her gaze shifts from Charlotte to the gaggle of fans surrounding Nikki, as they all started to head inside.

“Well,” Charlotte doesn’t let her resolve falter, smiling, “my name’s Charlotte Lee, and --”

“Oi, Cheerleader, you coming inside? We’ve got another set to go!” Nikki Sixx’s voice rings out through the courtyard area, and Charlotte visibly cringes at the sound of it, turning slowly on her heel, still wincing when she faces him.

And yes, he was talking to her, his hands are still cupped around his mouth like a megaphone, a tunnel showing off his smug and toothy grin. She hadn’t realised he’d even noticed her, but he had, and he needed her to know he had.

“The world doesn’t revolve around you,” she calls back, irritated. Nikki lowers his hands, and even from this distance she can see him raising his eyebrows.

“But you’re here, aren’t you?” He leaves the because I invited to you as an implication only she would hear, knowing she would hear it nonetheless. Charlotte sighs deeply, shoulders sagging with resignation, and Nikki, feeling as though he’d won, turns sharply on his heel and marches inside.

“I hate him,” Charlotte groaned.

“You know him?” Mick seems rather surprised, enough that the emotion could be heard in his voice. Charlotte turns back, not quite sure what to expect when she faced them. Mick is watching Charlotte with actual interest. Lola was watching the spot where Nikki had been, expression carefully blank.

“He’s a pain,” Charlotte says, defeated, and Lola’s gaze flicks to her, expression turning amused, but before she can get a word in -

“There you are!” The door to the now mostly-empty beer garden bursts open, and Tommy makes himself known. He’s left Keanu somewhere inside, apparently, now that he was on the hunt for his cousin. Mick sighs so heavily that it’s all he can do to lean back into the planter, arms crossed over his chest like a vampire, as if the very sight of the kid exhausts him. From this position, the packet of cigarettes in his pocket is exposed, and Lola steals one.

“I’ll owe you,” is all she says, as Tommy approaches, in less of a beeline, and more of an unsteady wave, more than a little tipsy. Christ, his mom is gonna kill them both.

“I was looking everywhere for you,” his wide eyes betrayed his concern, despite his current state, but his concern turns to joy, upon seeing her company, “hi, Mick!” Mick does not answer, laying with his eyes closed, in the shrubs.

“He’s dead,” Lola supplies without missing a beat, pulling out her lighter and lighting the stolen cigarette, and Tommy’s expression falls.

“We should help him -”

“I can help him, don’t worry,” Lola assures, with faux seriousness, before her tone shifts to something light, easily distracting the tipsy boy, “you were in the gas station the other day with this one, weren’t you?” She gestures with her lighter towards Charlotte; Tommy looks to his cousin before looking to Lola.

“I- yeah, oh, shit, you’re- hi,” suddenly flustered as he finally remembered where he knew her from, he offers his hand, “Tommy.”

“Lola,” there’s a new edge to her smile, sparkling in her eyes as she taking in Tommy and his whole look, which has something strangely protective flare up in Charlotte’s chest. But then Lola catches the slight frown on Charlotte’s face, and it’s like she knows exactly what she’s thinking, because she lets go of Tommy’s hand and her expression betrays on the faintest hint of amusement.

“Lola,” Tommy nods very seriously, as if committing the name to his memory in his current state was quite the task, but he persisted nonetheless. After a moment, however, he seemed to remember his original mission, “Vince thought you’d headed home -”

“Fuck Vince,” Charlotte spits automatically, venomously, a knee-jerk response, and Tommy’s stunned into silence.

“Do you want to go home?” Tommy’s far too earnest and concerned for his current state, and Charlotte feels momentarily guilty for her outburst, hanging her head and letting herself breathe for a moment.

“No, the music’s good, we just got into a fight -”

“You guys used to actually be good friends,” Tommy hesitates, confused, and Charlotte gives him a rueful smile when she looks back at him.

“Then he decided that being nice to the people who have been friends with him for years was lame.”

“He’s nice to me,” Tommy says, sounding a little put out, and Charlotte shrugged, crossing her arms.

“And he’s still nice to me, doesn’t mean he’s not a tool; I’m a cheerleader, and you’re a guy, of course he’s still going to be nice to us.”

Tommy still doesn’t get it, but Charlotte decides to head back into the pub with him, throwing over her shoulder that it was nice to meet Lola. She could almost swear she heard a muttered ‘fuckin’ teenagers’ from Mick, all of nineteen years old himself, which just has Charlotte rolling her eyes. Mick taps Lola’s arm when Charlotte glances over her shoulder, while the rest of him still lays flat in the dirt, and Lola passes him the cigarette obligingly, crossing one leg over the other and smirking at him.

it doesn’t matter if the glass is half full or half empty. i am gonna drink it through this crazy straw!

“Vince is on the warpath,” Eileen’s always been able to remain composed while unreasonably drunk better than any person Charlotte’s ever known, and the following night, while Vince’s house party rages around them in the living room of his house, is no exception. She won’t say how many vodka sodas she’s had, or who supplied her with the vodka, but the way she was unable to suppress the amused twist of her lips was a dead giveaway that she was a little more than tipsy.

“Oh?” Charlotte’s eyes were roaming from face to face at the party, never sticking to just one, hands clutching a red solo cup full of cheap wine.

“Someone told him the person who keyed his car was here,” Eileen’s close to laughter, and Charlotte’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Does he -”

“No,” Eileen shakes her head, taking another delicate sip of her own drink, “he thinks it’s one of Duff’s friends.” She says, before her eyes going wide, and she slaps her free hand over her mouth - “sorry.” Charlotte, who’s too tipsy to care about the mention of her ex, is more confused than anything else.

“Because of me?” She actually snorts, skeptical, “as if Duff or any of his friends cared about who took me to prom after everything happened, enough to key Vince’s car.” It’s been long enough now that she can laugh at it, and the warped logic of it all, knowing full well that the girl sitting beside her was the real vandal of Vince’s shiny, red car.

“Can you believe Vince asked me to invite Peach? After all that shit he pulled on her after Summer? I almost clocked him in the middle of the carpark!” Eileen’s movements were relaxed and uncomplicated, so unlike her usual demeanour, so easy-going, so honest, sometimes drunk-Eileen’s openness caught Charlotte by surprise, “told him to invite her himself if he wanted her there so bad.”

“I’m in awe of your restraint,” Charlotte mused, leaning into Eileen, letting her eyes fall closed in an attempt to keep the room from spinning in her vision, “he’s such an ass; I’m surprised you’re even here.”

“The nerve on him, acting like he’s too good to be seen with her because he’s got new friends,” Eileen shook her head, wrapping her free arm around Charlotte’s shoulders, securing her, still people watching, “I should have keyed him,” for a moment, she hiccups, and when Charlotte cracks her eye open for a moment to guage her friend’s current state, she sees Eileen glaring into her mostly-empty cup.

“I’m still deciding if I should pee on something he cares about,” Eileen says, tone so serious that Charlotte can’t help but dissolve into giggles.

“What?”

“‘s why I’m here,” Eileen was so earnest in her declaration that Charlotte was a little nervous, if only because drunk-Eileen would absolutely do something as undignified as pee on something of Vince’s in an act of revenge.

“Would you key Duff’s car for me?” Charlotte asked to change the topic, all soft and teasing, and she can hear rare, unrestrained the smile in Eileen’s voice when she assured Charlotte she would in a heartbeat, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

Despite it still being early in the night, Charlotte knew that if she seemed drunk when she got back to Tommy’s house, her Aunt would tell her mom, and that’s the exact opposite of what she needs. Tommy can get legless if he wants, he only has to face the wrath of his weirdly supportive parents; if Charlotte comes home obviously drunk, she won’t be allowed out of the house until college. So she decides to get water.

There’s bodies everywhere, and Charlotte’s struggling to move through them, even with Eileen guiding her to the kitchen.

Charlotte’s been in and around this house so many times, it should be second nature to her; she and Tommy had spent what felt like half their childhoods in this house, within it’s pristine, white walls, and expensive, leather furniture, playing pretend trying to imagine what their future would turn out to be. None of them would have pictured this, of Charlotte, of Charlotte hating Vince and still stumbling, drunk through his house, nor had they seen Vince, playing pretend with popularity, tossing them all aside for a set of conceited fair-weather friends. Tommy’s never been able to predict his own future, too willing to go with the flow to be too certain of anything.

Away from the living room, and the record player, the music is muffled, and the chatter is quieter, as people are here for drinks, or snacks, while most were choosing to dance in the crush in the living room, or making regrettable, teenage decision upstairs.

Eileen tops up her drink with obviously spiked punch. Half vodka and soda, half spiked fruit punch. Gross. Charlotte looks on in disgust as she sips water, and Eileen acts like there’s no difference between taste, but she interrupts her own performance of stoicism when her eyes widen.

“Fields.”

“What?” Charlotte asks, confused as all hell, following Eileen’s gaze to where the kitchen opens up onto the patio, only to see Lola, in a full face of makeup, hair sprayed to high heavens, wearing all sorts of black, ripped, mesh and denim layers, looking like an intimidating cross between glam rock and crust punk. She was straddling someone’s lap, looking at them intently, what looked to be a black, eyeliner pencil in her hand.

“That’s the girl from my French class,” Eileen sounds a little surprised to see her, and Charlotte smiles a little.

“Her name’s Lola -” but her mouth drops open when Lola, in the dim light spilling from the kitchen, leans in and kisses whoever she’s sitting on. After a beat, both Charlotte and Eileen burst in fits of unsubtle laughter, not having anticipated this turn of events. They’re holding each other for support in their drunken amusement, laughing like this is somehow the funniest thing they’ve ever encountered, thankfully aware enough to set aside their cups.

“I- we’re intruding right? This is- we should leave-” they’re not even the only ones in the kitchen when Charlotte says this, gasping for breaths between her laughs, but they seem to be the only ones who have noticed what’s happening, or at least the only ones who halfway care.

Until there comes a shout of ‘yeah, get some, Tommy!’ from the bonfire about thirty yards from the patio, and Charlotte very clearly and distinctly thinks ‘oh no’.

Vince is silhouetted by the fire, bleach blonde hair catching the light, but Charlotte can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Shut up, Vince!” Lola’s partner, who is now unmistakably Tommy, calls back, flustered, as Lola hides her grin against his shoulder. Vince and his cronies, none of whom Charlotte knows by name, jeer in response. Then Lola’s leaning back and saying something that Charlotte doesn’t catch, but suddenly Tommy looks inside, his expression turning from flustered and pleased to horrified as his gaze locks with Charlotte’s and they both know that she knows.

Eileen is wheezing with laughter beside her.

Charlotte sees Tommy’s now lipstick-stained mouth mutter ‘shit’. Lola follows his gaze, and waves awkwardly at Charlotte. Charlotte also mutters ‘shit’.

Charlotte tips out her water and gets herself another cup of wine from the back of Vince’s refrigerator. A lot has happened in thirty seconds, she thinks she deserves one more drink for the night.

#mick mars #tommy lee #vince neil #nikki sixx #motley crue #the pack #charlotte & lola #lola&charlotte #the angry lizard writes

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deviltrs · 4 years

Note

Hear me out: Reddie on a “date” to a fair (it’s a date in eddies mind but richie is clueless) [i will die on the Richie being clueless on occasion hill if I have to ]

i see you AND i hear you, anon. 100%

tbh i HC richie is pretty oblivious when it comes to dating, dates and eddie’s blatantly obvious feelings for him LMAOO

so i kinda set it in HS?? and its like 1992-1993, so they’re about 16-17.

i hope you enjoy anon! i’m sorry if it sucks a little bit (or a lot)

i haven't written anything publicly for a HOT minute and definitely need to brush up a little bit on my writing skills

and i’m also sorry if they’re really OOC, i’m still learning and trying my best.

NONE OF THIS WAS PROOFREAD SORRY LMAO

---

Eddie invites him to the towns annual fall festival. Just the two of us, he’d said on the phone yesterday.

Richie could never deny Eddie much of anything, so he immediately agreed. The idea of the two of them hanging out alone, oddly enough, makes him feel like there are butterflies in his stomach. He shrugs it off, as he’s done for the past three or four years, and he goes through the rest of his day, anxiously awaiting the next.

And that’s where he is now. With Eddie, at the festival.

Everything’s fine, so he doesn’t know why he’s freaking out so bad. Honestly, everything’s more than fine. Richie buys him an ice cream, and for once, Eddie doesn’t go on a full-blown rant about Richie spending his money on him when he’s perfectly capable of paying for himself.

Eddie doesn’t shrug his arm off when Richie throws it around his shoulders while they’re walking towards the games, either. He leans in a little closer, actually, which feels like it sends a jolt of lightning straight through every fiber of Richie’s being.

He’s just... all smiles, no rants, no freak-outs. A few insults or two, though, because that’s just how Eddie is, and Richie wouldn’t have it any other way. But... it’s weird not to see him reaching for his fake inhaler to ease his nerves, or thoroughly sanitizing his hands after he touches everything. He’s been like that all day, too. Didn’t even complain about the god awful mess in Richie’s car when he got in.

Now, as it begins to get darker outside, he’s sitting down right across from him at a picnic table, sharing a funnel cake. Their hands have brushed once or twice, and Eddie’s even wiped some powdered sugar off of the side of Richie’s mouth, and he isn’t even going to think about how red his face fucking got when that happened.

“Earth to Richie!” he hears Eddie yell.

He blinks once, twice, three times, trying to rid his mind of the thoughts that kept him so in his head, and turns and flashes a big smile in Eddie’s direction.

“What ‘s it, Spaghetti?” Richie replies, reaching for several pieces of the funnel cake and plopping all of them in his mouth at once. “‘S there anything you wanna do?” he asks in-between chewing, and Eddie visibly grimaces.

“Say it, don’t fucking spray it, dickwad. You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.” Eddie complains, and Richie would’ve laughed if he wasn’t chewing his food. “And chew with your mouth closed! Jesus Christ, who taught you your table manners?”

After Richie swallows his food, he takes a large gulp from his Coca Cola and shrugs. “I was raised by apes, they taught me everything I know about manners, Eds.” he teases.

He gets a small laugh out of Eddie at that one, along with an eye-roll. “Very funny. And don’t call me that, Richie!” Eddie replies, reaching across the table to give Richie’s shoulder a small shove. Richie laughs, now that his mouth isn’t full, and shakes his head.

“Don’t lie, you like when I call you Eds.”

Eddie blushes? Richie thinks he is, anyways. But why the hell would Eddie be blushing?

Eddie’s voice snaps him out of it before he can dwell too much into it. “Whatever you say.” he grumbles, reaching and grabbing the last piece of their shared funnel cake. He grabs a napkin and wipes his mouth when he’s done, and he doesn’t even give Richie time to speak before he’s talking again.

“Do you want to get on the ferris wheel? It’s getting darker, so we can see all the lights better.” he speaks hurriedly, pointing over towards where the ferris wheel sits, spinning as they sit a little ways away from it. The lights are coming on, now, on all the attractions. Shades of pink and purple, red and blue, green and yellow. They’re bright, but they light up Eddie’s face in just the right way to make Richie think god, he’s beautiful.

“Sure, let’s get to it, Eduardo!” Richie replies, loudly, standing on his feet. He grabs their trash and throws it away in the nearest trashcan, and walks back over towards Eddie, who grabs his fucking hand and starts walking towards the ferris wheel.

He starts to wonder if this is even Eddie, because it dawns on him that Eddie doesn’t even like festival rides. They’re covered in bacteria and germs, dumbass, he’d usually say. But that isn’t the case this evening, apparently, because Eddie is smiling as they approach it, grabbing his tickets from his back pocket and handing two to Richie.

“You know I have my own, right?” Richie asks, but Eddie just shakes his head.

“You used at least ten tickets on that darts game until you won me that stuffed Kirby. Shut up and let me be nice to you.” Eddie retorts, and Richie does as he’s asked. He mimics zipping up his mouth, locking it and throwing the key away, which gets a small chuckle out of Eddie. He counts that as a win, so long as he sees Eddie laughing, at least.

Spoiler alert: he doesn’t shut up. He doesn’t know how.

Eventually, after bickering back in forth in line about everything they could think of, they’re finally getting on the ferris wheel, being seated and secured in before they take off and are stopped again.

Eddie turns to Richie, his hands on the handlebar, looking as content as ever. “Thank you for saying yes when I asked you out on this date. I know it was kinda stupid to ask you over the phone, but-- whatever. Thank you, asshole. I’m having a great time.”

Richie feels like his jaw has dropped.

Asked him out on what?

“You-- me-- date? What? Since when?” Richie stammers, and Eddie’s brows furrow. His face becomes redder than the top of the haunted house’s tent.

“You didn’t know this was a date?” Eddie asks, and Richie shakes his head repeatedly.

“No! You didn’t say anything about a date!”

“I literally fucking said it was!”

“No, you said ‘Hey, do you want to go out with me to the festival tomorrow, just the two of us’ and that is not asking me out on a date!”

“I said ‘Do you want to go out with me to the festival tomorrow, just the two of us,’ emphasis on go out with me, and that was literally me asking you on a date, dumbass!”

Richie processes.

And processes.

And processes some more.

“Holy fucking shit, I’m on a date with you.” Richie says, blank faced. On the inside he’s screaming with absolute joy.

“Yeah, you are, dumbass. You-- forget I said anything--”

Richie interrupts him, quickly, “No, no! I’m not like-- freaked out about it or anything. I’m happy to go on a date with a cutie like you, Eds!” he says, leaning towards Eddie and pinching his cheek affectionately.

Eddie swats his hand away, blushing and grumbling, but he’s smiling nonetheless. “Do you-- fuck, do you like me, Rich? I mean, I-- I’m obviously into you.”

Richie nods, very enthusiastically, and smiles wider than he ever has when one of Eddie’s hands come off of the handlebar to grab one of his. “Absolutely, Eds, I mean-- how could I not? You’re my best friend. And, also, you’re so easy to piss off and rile up. It’s fuckin’ cute!” he says, smile never falling from his face.

“I am not easy to rile up, you dick.” Eddie argues, but his tone holds no distaste or actual anger within it.

So Richie, being Richie, shakes the passenger car they’re in as soon as the wheel takes motion again to prove a point, and Eddie screeches. “You fucking dick! Why the hell would you do that? Do you know how many deaths have happened because of people rocking these fucking things?” he yells, and Richie lets out a full belly laugh.

“Oh, it’s so fucking funny, isn’t it? Do you want to die on a ferris wheel in this shit town? Do you--”

Richie finally makes a move, and decides to shut Eddie up with a kiss.

It works.

#reddie #reddie prompts #kt's shitty writing #please don't come at me it's 4AM and i tried to get this done quickly #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it fandom #it 2017 #teen reddie

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sunflowerryvol6 · 3 years

Text

New Beginnings - hs (reader insert)

warnings: angst, fluff

WC. 2K

You always did great under pressure, it was almost like that sort of environment drove you to do better, not that you agreed with this toxic work style, but it was something that came naturally to you. You always engaged in multiple things at once, to help keep your mind occupied, so that's what you were doing right now. Emails needed replies. PowerPoint decks to be checked and revised for upcoming meetings for the week, all while you were perusing through some new podcasts sent to you by a friend. You were good under pressure, you were quick on your feet to find a solution for the problems laid out in front of you, or that's what you thought..

The thing is, years of you filling your time to its maximum capacity, it may have slipped up that it was running you down physically and mentally. Your mind was always running, and so were you. But it wasn't like you weren't addressing the issue, after all, you did have your stress buddy/boyfriend, he kept you in check, reminded you to drink water, take a break when necessary, sometimes helped take some load off your shoulders when work got too taxing. It was just a bonus that you both worked in the same field. You both worked for different companies, respectively heading teams.

You often worked from home, and Harry prefered working from his office, so you had claimed your home office and spent quite a bit of time locked away in there. It was no surprise that you had lost track of time and forgotten to order in food for when he came back home. You checked your phone for any texts, and there it was.

will be late, lovie.

don't forget to eat something xo

Sighing, you locked your phone and went back to working and finishing some extra tasks on your weekly to-do list. A lot was running on your mind, so you made a mental note to check in with Harry tonight.

It was about 11 pm when you looked away from your PC having finished most of your work. You were still quite wired, so you decided to head out of your home office to try and do some light cleaning before Harry came back home. You were in the middle of emptying your mail drawer when you saw this blue envelope peeking out. It was the colour of your office stationery, so naturally, you opened it. What was odd about it though, was that it was for Harry. You didn't want to pry, but you were curious. So damn the consequences, you started reading it.

It was an offer letter for Harry to take on a department head position at your company, a title you had been working really hard to achieve. You couldn't believe what you were reading, your eyes blurry from tears pooling in them. You stopped reading and looked around for your phone, and you needed to speak with him and find out what was going on. Surely he knew, you both had discussed it at length, that if you needed your relationship to work, you needed to work at different organisations and that was that. It wasn't up for debate. Just as you were about to dial his number, the front door opened.

Harry walked in on you with tears in your eyes and the opened blue envelope in your hand. "Y/N, I can explain. Let's sit down please." He looked like he was desperate to reach out and touch you; he stayed away, though. You quietly moved on to stand on the side of your kitchen counter. He moved just as slowly and sat his bag down next to the barstools and took a seat on one.

"Okay, so you know how I've been feeling kind of done with the work that was coming in at my firm? Well, I thought that I could really use a change of pace. I hadn't acted on it though. I wanted to speak with you about it, obviously."

You were getting impatient "H, get to the point. Why is there an offer letter addressed to you, to be my boss in our mail?!" You had been thinking about speaking to management about a promotion; if that didn't work out, you had some other ideas, but this was definitely not how you wanted things to go.

Harry winced at your tone but continued, "Couple of weeks ago when I was out with Mitch and the gang, I ran into your boss Christy, and we talked, well I thought we were only talking, but it turned out to be an impromptu interview for the position they offered. Christy called me last week to discuss the details, but I wasn't sure so I asked her to send the terms to me on email, which I thought she would. I didn't know she was going to mail a hardcopy home, baby. Please Y/N you have to understand that I was going to decline the offer, but I just wanted to test the waters for a job change."

By the end of that explanation, you were fuming, at how blatantly your boss had sidelined you. Not only that, she approached your boyfriend of all the people. You were mad at Harry for having persued the lead and having kept it from you. There were about ten other companies he could have gone to if he wanted a change of pace like he claimed. You were so mad that all you worked for had come down to nothing. Now it was creeping into your personal life too; your breathing was becoming ragged, you were trying to make sense of all the information thrown at your way.

"So what are you going to do now, H? You had to have taken a peek at the offer, and it certainly is a good jump from your previous position."

"Baby. which is why I wanted to talk to you about it, I do want to consider it, at least give it a thought, but not at the cost of a row between us. You have to know that, Y/N." he said. He was looking at you worriedly because he didn't want to cause a fight between you both.

You were on the verge of a panic attack; you could feel it bubbling in your chest, that coupled with how you hadn't eaten since lunch wasn't the best combination.

You placed the envelope on the counter with trembling hands and gripped the counter hard to calm yourself a little bit. You were getting lightheaded with all this clouding your mind, but you didn't let it show.

He tried to place his palm on the back of yours, to help you. He was mentally talking down all the steps of a panic attack because he knew you all too well and had been there to witness quite a few of your work-induced episodes. But you flinched away, as though he touch burnt you. You took a step back and stumbled a bit. "Love, are you okay? Please talk to me." He reached out again. This time, you looked up, with tears in your eyes, your struggle in trying to breathe becoming more apparent. He knew this was bad.

You took a shaky step to walk out of the kitchen and sit your self down on the couch, but you were feeling too hot, his gaze was following you. He was cautiously hovering, just close enough to hold you up if you needed it. He knew not to overstep, and anything could set you off. But he was wrong this time, and you really couldn't hold yourself up, what with the panic attack. You thought you were sinking to break your fall, but it was too late, you'd started seeing black spots, and there was no way you'd sit before you could lean on something.

He noticed that and jumped to catch you by your armpits, rest your head against his chest as he sank against the wall. He knew you would often feel lightheaded during a panic attack, but in all this time you'd never outright passed out. "Baby? Wake up please!"

He was trying not to panic, he laid you down carefully on the carpet and started rubbing your palms, it didn't work. So he rubbed the balls of your feet, and when that didn't do it, he rushed to the kitchen and brought out a glass of water. He dipped his fingers in the glass and gently splashed your face with some water. You didn't come to it immediately. But slowly he saw your eyes flutter open. He gently lifted your head, so it was laying on his lap. He ran his hand over your forehead to move some stray hair.

"Y/N, are you okay?" he whispered, not wanting to startle you. You groaned "What happened? One second I was feeling too hot and now..."

"You passed out, when was the last time you ate, bunny?" He only called you that when you were sick. You remembered the fight almost immediately, and how mad you were before you passed out, you tried to sit up straight, to get away from him, but didn't make it too far. You were still very dizzy; he was still holding you, so you sat up with your knees supporting your head. He was looking at you with worry in his eyes; he ran his palm on your back to soothe you.

"Bunny, I'm really sorry, please let me bring you something to eat." You shook your head " I'm not hungry. H. Please leave me alone." Your voice cracked a little. You could feel yourself tearing up again.

"Oh, Bunny! you can be mad at me all you want, but we have to get something in that tummy."

"We will get back to this fight right after you have eaten something." You didn't move from your hunched over position. He helped you up and walked you to the couch, and you quietly laid down with your arm across your eyes. He sat on the floor, eye-level with you, turned around and got your bottle of water to offer it to you, "Here, why don't you take a sip? It'll help you regain some strength." You shakily took the bottle from his hand and took a sip.

He left you there to rest while he went to the kitchen to get you something to eat, decided on some toast because he knew you were prone to acid reflux if you went too long without eating. He occasionally called out to you checking if you were okay. Harry made the toast, brought it to you and sat down on the couch next to your feet.

"Bunny, come on."

"I'm very nauseous, Harry. I won't be able to keep it down." Nausea was a common symptom when you went long periods without eating. You did everything to avoid it by munching on small snacks, but you simply forgot on busy days like today. He took your other hand in his and started massaging it slowly, and he knew how much you liked that on a sick day.

"A few bites and then you'll feel better, I promise" He was desperate to get you to eat, if you didn't you'd be up all night throwing up.

You reluctantly sat up, he kept with the massage, and you picked up the toast and bit into it. It wasn't so bad. You both were quiet. You sat that there finished the toast and drank some water to wash it down.

"I'm leaving." You whisper broke the silence.

He looked at you bewildered "What?! Love, there has to be something I can do! Let me fix this."

"I'm not leaving -" Before you could finish the sentence, you knew what was coming, you rushed to the guest bathroom and puked your guts out. He ran behind you, found you hunched over heaving into the bowl, he reached over and held your hair back, whispering "Oh baby, let it out, it's okay."

"I'm right here."

You slowly raised your head and wiped your mouth, and leaned your head on the seat. He quickly flushed the toilet and pulled you back so that you could rest your head on his chest. He ran his fingers through your hair, tugging it very gently because you liked that. The simple act reminded you of how soft he was when you were sick.

"I'll get my stuff out when you're better; you don't have to go anywhere. But I'm not leaving you when you're so sick, Bun"

You ignored what he said and replied "I'm not leaving you, you idiot"

Puzzled, he looked at you "Then? what did you mean-

"I'm leaving that godforsaken job! You can take it if you want, but I'm not stepping foot in that place again."

"Don't be so quick, Y/N, take some time to think about it, and no. I'm not taking the job."

"I have thought about it, Harry. I was up for that promotion, and if they weren't going to give it to me, I don't see the point in busting my ass for that company anymore."

"Now why don't you help me and open the drawer for me."

He hesitantly reaches in and opens the drawer, to find a used pregnancy test.

He looks at you, shock is written all over his face. "Are we....."

"Yes, baby." You say all teary-eyed, but this time it's happy tears.

You were stressed out at work. All because of impending appraisals for a while, so a missed period had utterly slipped your mind. You had a taken the test earlier in the day and were excitedly scrolling through Pinterest to look for a cute way to tell Harry. In all the excitement you had forgotten to eat all day, and then the job thing happened. It just solidified your need to quit your job and look into some freelance opportunities. Sure, the way you found out wasn't ideal, but it was the only answer.

"Baby? We're having a baby?" that seemed to break you out from your trance.

He bent down to lift you "I could kiss you right now."

You grimaced "I'd rather you not, H."

That night you both sorted out the details for your resignation and new job opportunities for him, after that you both had a good ol' cuddle session and fell asleep in each other's arms.

#harry styles #hs #angst #bfharry #soft harry #fluf #harry fluff #harry one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry fanfic

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berrykook · 4 years

Text

can’t bear it (y!hs)

set in the overtime universe

in which hoseok is just trying to help you understand that he knows what’s best for you and you feel yourself start to slip

contents: yandere!hoseok, kidnapping, “gaslighting” / manipulation, vomit, gore / mutilation, good/bad little girl rhetoric

word count: 3.7k

a/n: thanks for the request !! i had fun writing it heheh

i’m tagging gaslighting in quotations because i feel like hoseok is like,, KiNdA gaslighting but pretty lightly

also idk why my mc’s always be throwing up LOL it’s just for a second i swear

my inbox is open for yandere requests! i do not write non-con, hitting (punching, slapping, etc.), or ddlg / ageplay (in this fic i included good/bad little girl rhetoric because i thought it would make hoseok seem more spooky but otherwise i do not write ageplay --- use of word daddy is ok)

lmk what u guys think!

*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ

Your stomach softly growled as you stared down into your takeout box of noodles and studied the way the sauce doesn’t cling to some vegetables. Hoseok ordered your favorite again, but you couldn’t remember ever loving this dish. He must have been referring to the time before he brought you to live with him (an incident in which your head was hit very hard).

Hoseok stared at you like he always did, refusing to eat until he saw you take the first bite. He sat with his hands folded, watching you and your hazy mind work through dinnertime. All you had to do was pick up your chopsticks and eat, but something in you could not bring yourself to do so.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Not hungry?”

Whether it was intentional or not, Hoseok’s tone never came out of the woods. He spoke slowly in low tones as if he was always ready to pounce on you. You wondered if he spoke to his employees the same way.

You gingerly picked up your chopsticks.

“You haven’t been eating well lately. Is something wrong?” Hoseok is wringing his hands now. You began to stare back at him.

You remained silent for a long moment before saying clearly, “Yes. I don’t feel well.”

Hoseok clicks his tongue, rising from his seat across from you to sit next to you instead. He rests his hand on yours. Hoseok wasn’t overly affectionate which you were lucky for at the beginning of this relationship, but you now felt touch-starved and undesirable. He held an immense amount of power over you and he knew it too.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” he mumbled, placing a palm against your forehead. “You’re not warm. I seriously doubt you’re sick, you never are. Tell me what’s wrong, please.” He leaned in closer.

You held back a huff of frustration, knowing how angry he got when you weren’t his perfect little girl. Hoseok knew exactly how to get under your skin and scare you shitless. If you weren’t careful and deliberate with every motion, every phrase, every word, he would catch on in a heartbeat and do whatever it took to show you he owned you. It only took three days in his basement for you to confess your love for him and start begging to be let out.

You fidgeted nervously, quickly glancing at the front door behind Hoseok. He hadn’t let you out in nearly six months and as much as you loved him, you were beginning to get antsy.

Hoseok was scary, but treated you well. He thoroughly explained on several occasions how much you needed him and how he loved you so deeply that it was in his very nature to keep you protected from the world like this. He even let you free from being chained in his basement after only a couple weeks, which was awesome! Hoseok never called himself your boyfriend, but you figured he was close enough. He fed you when you weren’t being bad and he recited his love for you often. It terrified you when you first met that time you woke up in his basement, but with time you found yourself believing him more and more. This was not living, but you were becoming so far gone from your past that it seemed like perhaps this sheltered life was what you were meant to receive.

Hoseok studied you deeply, noticing immediately how your eyes darted behind him at the front door. He sighed, mentally preparing himself to pull out all the stops to get the idea out of your pretty little head.

“Mm, baby, are you bored? Did you want to go outside?” He smiled a bit, stroking the back of your head and looking at you sweetly.

Immediately, you furrowed your brows and gripped his hand tighter. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.

“You must be tired of being cooped up in the house all day...don’t you want to see what’s out there?”

Hoseok stood up, placing a hand on your back to guide you up as well.

“H-Hobi, I don’t need to. I don’t mind staying inside…” you said bashfully, tugging his hand to lead him back into his chair.

His smile was wide like the Cheshire Cat’s. He reached to hold your face by your chin.

“No, I’m sure you must be going crazy being in here all day. Let’s go outside. Maybe you can run around a bit so your appetite can return.”

You weren’t stupid. You saw from the windows that Hoseok lived in a deep forest and made a lengthy commute each day to the city for his work. Perhaps Hoseok was feeling particularly sadistic today. You had been on your best behavior as of late - you listened well, ate when you didn’t feel ill, wore what he chose for you, told him you loved him and cuddled him and let him kiss you. His obtuseness came completely out of left field. You were the best little girl you could be - it made no sense.

“Hobi, I’m really hungry now. I would like to eat.” By the end of your statement, you were whispering fearfully as he was now leaning in close enough to kiss you.

“Don’t be silly. I saw you looking at the door. Come on,” he tugged you along, bending to tie your shoes for you.

“Hoseok, I really think I should go eat, please. I don’t want to go outside, it’ll be cold and dark and we’re in the forest, pl-”

“You know you want to leave. Don’t you? Wasn’t it only a few weeks ago you were saying you wanted to leave me?”

You’re crying now. “No! Please, I don’t want to leave, I love you, I swear! Hobi, I’ve changed!” Hoseok ignores your cries, pushing you out the front door with a smack on your ass.

“Be back in an hour, sweetheart. I don’t want the wild animals to find you.”

He slammed the door in your face and you began to hyperventilate for a moment. You knew he didn’t retreat from his spot at the door and he could clearly hear your cries. How did just looking at the door for a moment lead to this?

You spent a few minutes on your knees, bawling into your hands on the front porch. The tall forest prematurely made it nightfall at the ground level. After another few minutes, something caught your eye deeper into the woods. You stood slowly, hoping you were correct.

It was a car. A parked red van within walking distance of Hoseok’s house. Your legs moved on their own towards it. You were certain it didn’t belong to Hoseok as you kissed him goodbye from outside his black sedan each day. The drive to get away from Hoseok kicked in like a horse as you began running towards this car, desperate for help or some more information on where in the country the house was. If you were lucky, somebody would be in the car.

You were close enough to read the license plate when a searing pain shot through your leg and burned every cell in your body. You fell forward, coughing up a bit of your stomach after. You screamed for a moment, but then your body stopped taking in air effectively and you were left on the ground like a fish out of water.

You sobbed, desperately searching for a switch or button to release the contraption stuck around your ankle. Just a few yards from the car, chained to a tree was a steel bear trap that you stepped into perfectly. The claws dug well into the flesh on your leg, pouring blood over the forest floor as your heartbeat became erratic. Its jaws were locked far too strongly for you to pry apart. The house was barely visible to you now as the sun set completely and you were utterly stuck by this soccer mom van in the middle of god knows where.

The clock continued to tick as your hour of “freedom” was coming to a close. You wanted to throw up again at the sight of yourself. You nearly called out to Hoseok for help, but restrained yourself quickly. He was right - he always was. He was right for keeping you inside the way he did. You couldn’t even run half a mile into the forest without getting caught in a bear trap. The clinking of metal chains reminded you of your time in Hoseok’s basement and how cold it was and how hungry you became. You were hungry now as well, even through the nausea, and you let out a sad cry as your stomach growled angrily again. If Hoseok ever saved you again, you would eat everything he put in front of you with gusto. You leaned your head against the thick trunk of the tree you were chained to and watched the bugs on the floor crawl by. Your heart twinged as you missed Hoseok after just an hour apart. You felt you were no better than the insects you were watching.

The pain in your leg was unlike anything you had felt before. You knew it was unrealistic to die from a bear trap, but you felt like you were at the brink. You had long since given up trying to claw the trap apart, stopping when the third of your fingernails split. The blood from your ankle made its way all over the white sweater Hoseok had picked out for you that morning. Hopefully an actual bear would come by and put you out of your misery before Hoseok could come by and chastise you for getting your clothes dirty.

Eventually, you heard his voice through the trees. “Sweetheart!” His voice sang and you panicked at the thought of how angry he would be that you got yourself hurt. You saw a light coming from the direction of your house and you braced yourself to soon be found.

You didn’t have the energy to yell back at him, so you waited for him to find you instead. Hoseok was smarter than you would like to admit and he obviously already knew that you wouldn’t make it far. Yet, he took his sweet, sweet time searching for you.

Eventually, his flashlight landed on your chest and you looked away, nervous to see him. He sighed.

“Oh, baby...look what you did,” he tsked. He stood above you with his hands on his hips, shaking his head. He made a noise of disdain when your lower lip began to tremble. “Hurts, doesn’t it? I would help make it all better, but you’ve been such a bad girl lately. I thought you knew better than to go outside, but I guess you just couldn’t listen to me.”

You covered your mouth to hide your snivelling. “I’m s-so sorry!”

“I know you are, baby. See, if you listen to me and stay inside like a good girl, then these things won’t happen. What am I gonna do with you?” Hoseok bent down to face level with you, still sitting against the tree trunk shivering in immense pain. “I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, and earlier you sure made it clear that you don’t want to be in my house with me…”

You sobbed, reaching to hold his shoulders. “No! I want to go back home and be with you. I’m sorry for being ungrateful, I just want to be with you!” Hoseok clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Is that really what you want, baby? You really want to come back and live with me?” Hoseok spoke slowly, letting you marinate in the ache of your calf. He knew you loved him. Putting you in solitary confinement for the first two months was more than enough for you to worship the ground he walks on. Some days, he just needed to tease you a little.

“Yes, please. I’m sorry, I’ll never leave you, I swear.” Hoseok stared at you with a smile before taking your face into his hands and kissing you for a long moment.

“Good. Jin-hyung is going to help you with your leg, okay?”

Hoseok fishes in his pockets before pulling out a silver key and unlocking the chains around the tree.

“Wow, baby, you must have really run into this trap for it to have closed on you so hard...we better take it out in the house.”

You stared at him in shock. “This...this trap was yours?” Hoseok smoothed the top of your head.

“Everything on this land is mine,” he hissed with a sweet smile.

“B-but, I’ve never seen you drive this car. And why do you have bear traps!? You don’t hunt, Hoseok!” You are steadily becoming more hysterical and Hoseok sighs, hugging you to him. You holler at the pain of him shifting your leg.

“Baby, this is Jungkook’s car. You remember him, right? He’s taking his fianceè to Busan soon and they’ll need a car to hold their kids someday. He’s keeping it here because his apartment only gives him one parking space.” Hoseok kisses your cheek, rubbing your back when your crying intensifies. Ah, he’ll need to bring you back home soon before you lose too much blood. “You can understand that, can’t you?”

Hyperventilating on top of a foot caught in a bear trap had you lightheaded. You rested your cheek against Hoseok’s shoulder. “How am I supposed to get this off my foot?” You sobbed.

Hoseok cooed, rubbing your back a little harder. “I thought you knew what’s best for yourself...since you’re such a big girl and you always take ca-”

You cut him off with a wail. “Hoseok, please help me! I’ll die here, please!” He hissed at your yelling on his shoulder.

“Shh, stop that! Ah, I guess I can try and help you get back to the house. I thought you didn’t need someone like me…” Hoseok got started on unchaining the trap.

“No, I-I do need you! I’m sorry, I’ll never act out again…” you mumbled ashamedly. Hoseok heaved you up with a pained scream from you. He kissed your cheek in a lame attempt to calm you.

“Yeah? Are you going to be my good girl and stay inside the house?”

You cried a bit harder when he said this, remembering how you bawled on his front steps after he shut the door on you.

“Yes, I promise,” you whimpered.

“Good. Jin-hyung will be here in an hour to help fix you. Shh, don’t cry, I know it’s a long time,” he whispered to you. You cried all the way to the house and all the way down the concrete stairs to Hoseok’s basement.

“I don’t like it here, Hobi, please...can’t we go somewhere else?” Hoseok calmed your weeping by playing with your hair.

“This is what’s best. I’m here with you, my love...remember I love you so much.” He kissed your forehead softly. “We’ll get you out of this mess.”

You wrapped your hands around the sheets of the bed Hoseok placed you on and writhed in agony.

“It hurts,” you mumbled, still crying softly.

Hoseok cooed, “Aw, my baby…”

The anger within you began to rise like a tidal wave. Perhaps it was being back in this bed under Hoseok’s house, or perhaps you were finally understanding the lengths Hoseok would go to in order to claim you. The throbbing in your ankle aligned with a new throbbing in your head. Hoseok lay with you on the bed you woke up chained to all those months ago when he first took you. It took three strokes to the top of our head for you to snap.

“You did this to me,” you whispered, turning your face away from him.

Hoseok stopped stroking your hair as if he had just been doused with cold water.

“Huh? Say that again for me, baby, I didn’t quite hear you.” Hoseok tangled his fingers in your hair. You braced yourself for a harsh tug.

“This is your trap. I didn’t even want to go outside. I wasn’t even being bad.”

You didn’t force yourself to look at him as you spoke. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had stood up to him...was it recent? Wasn’t it during those first three days in his basement? It felt like a dream.

“I’ve been perfect these last few months. You kidnapped me yet I have been perfect for you! I didn’t deserve this!” You were steadily becoming hysterical. It felt good to let yourself become unraveled after weeks of living complacently in his clutch. Hoseok still hadn’t said anything, still keeping his hand gently against your scalp.

“How could you do this to me? I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me and you put me in a bear trap for what? Not eating my dinner? I didn’t eat because you make me sick!”

At this point, Hoseok began calmly rising from the bed and making his way over to your trapped foot. You barely noticed, too wound up in your angry rant. You didn’t care anymore. There was just no right way to be Hoseok’s victim, and there was no hope for escape either. You were surrounded by miles of forest and the only communication with other humans was Hoseok’s equally repulsive friends and two of them were moving across the country soon. You envied them and their stupid red van and happy little life. You had only met Jungkook and his fiancèe once, but they seemed to love each other deeply. You once wished for something like that, at least before Hoseok came into your life.

“You stupid motherfucker! Piece of shit! Fix my fucking leg, you asshole!” Hoseok watched you yell with blank eyes before cracking a slight smile. He chuckled, adoring the way your tongue was so sharp.

“Are you done, sweetie?” He massaged your calves. The pain in your foot almost felt as hot as the rage bubbling through your veins at the moment.

“You’re going to burn in hell for what you’ve done to me. Son of the devil,” you hissed.

Hoseok grinned wordlessly again before placing his hands on both sides of the bear trap and releasing its jaws with a manly grunt. A scream ripped through you, dying into dry sobs after a moment. You supposed it was good that he did it when you were furious and the adrenaline was pushing you off the edge.

Hoseok was panting heavily. “Baby, did you know that some animals gnaw their own limbs off to free themselves from bear traps?” You watched with a glare as he fiddled with the contraption. You prayed that he would be offended enough to just kill you already. “I haven’t seen it happen myself. Some hunters find bear traps inhumane for that very reason. I understand. The animal has done no wrong, correct?” The shoddy lighting of his basement cast a shadow over his face.

“I can’t imagine how it would feel to be so helpless like that...so scared and alone...you must have felt that way back in that forest, huh? Baby?” You refused to entertain him any longer. Hoseok was being oddly soft-spoken and gentle with his tone. It wasn’t often that he brought out this voice.

“You must be so upset, huh? Scared, maybe even suicidal. You might even feel like a lost cause.” The trap snapped back into its original open position with a clang. “I’ve never viewed you that way. All I’ve ever seen you as was my perfect girl, even when you weren’t being so good. I never lost hope in you. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to snap out of it and love me too and fucking mean it.” His tone turned angry for a second, but he quickly shut it down. You stared at how he held the open trap with such expertise.

“You might think you were being so careful and good, but I see right through you. I just know you so well, baby. I knew deep down, there was still a part of you that defied me, even though I just wanted you to be your best self. I knew there was still some part of you left for me to crack apart and mold to include me with it.”

You were much more dizzy now.

“I’m doing this for your own good. So we can be happy together.”

You caught on with a start, sitting up quickly. You couldn’t even get one word out before Hoseok swiftly grabbed your good foot with a heavy hand and positioned it on the plate of the open trap. He jumped back, successfully evading the teeth of the trap which were now clamped around your other foot.

You let out a gut-wrenching scream. Not only did you scream from the pain of the bear trap, but also from the pain of the cold basement, the pain of the thick woods that surrounded the house. Hoseok watched you thrash on the bed as if you were possessed. Both of your ankles poured out blood and soiled the white bed sheets you lay on.

“Honey, be careful! Look at what happened to the sheets,” he tsked. “Ah, look at what you’ve done. How did my silly girl manage to get caught into two traps in one day? What am I gonna do with you?”

You began bawling again as Hoseok remained standing over you. His voice remained sickly sweet and you found yourself yearning for him to taunt you with his usual nasty tone.

“I want to die,” you weep. Hoseok seemed affected by this for a second before reverting back to his calm stance.

He silently came back around the bed, placing a kiss on your forehead once more before making his way up the concrete stairs. You thought about calling out to him for a moment, but ultimately decided not to. Hoseok shut the door behind him, not bothering to lock it. You wouldn’t be able to walk anyway. He made his way to the kitchen, stretching as he did so, and opened a cabinet in search of some tea. Your cries were barely audible over the hum of the microwave heating his water.

#yandere hoseok #yandere!hoseok #yandere!bts #yandere bts

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voidcat · 4 years

Text

–The Life Cycle of a Butterfly

Characters: Daichi Sawamura / f!Reader

Genre & Word Count: fluff & 2.9k

requested by anon:

Would you do a fluff Imagine for Daichi Sawamura where proposes to his HS sweetheart infront of Ukai’s shop because it’s the place of a lot of their relationship firsts like he realized he had a crush on her when they were first years running to each other after their clubs (she played soccer), where she told him she loved him after they lost to Aoba Johsai third year, got yelled at for kissing in front of when they found out they were going to the same university, etc? Your Bo fic got me ❤️

A/N: song rec for the fic is a Nocturne of Chopin’s. also pls keep it in mind i did the ending at 2am so there may be few sentences w/o verbs that slipped my attention.

Sakanoshita Store is a familiar place for many. A meeting point for teens, a store full of wonders for kids and a vantage point for Karasuno High, especially for the sports teams.

It is the place where you first hung out with your new teammates, some of whom you’d become life-long friends in the future. It’s where you found your second family and felt at ease, discussed tactics and laughed about funny memories.

For you, Sakanoshita Store was where you first laid your eyes on the infamous team, though unaware of it at the time, they managed to attract your attention. An usual after-practice snack, you and your friends had crowded the place. Upon entering and seeing there were no absent tables, they had bought whatever they came for and left. And in their absence, there was an air of unease. “Hey, who were they?” you asked one of your friends but the curious expression on her face made it obvious she hadn’t noticed them.

The next day in class, a stroke of silver hair you recognized from the store. “Hello Sugawara-san.”

“Oh, hi (Name)-san. Did you need something?”

“Yes, actually... I was wondering, which club you were in?”

“The boys’ volleyball club!” “Since when Karasuno has one?” The face he makes sends regret through your bones. With a soft giggle, hand scratching his head, he offers a sad smile; similar to the air they brought with them the other night.

“Well the club surely didn’t meet the expectations we had but Daichi-san has hopes for the future.”

The way he says the words gives you hope too, for their club and future success. “Who is, Daichi-san?”

“Square chin, broad shoulders, very nice back? Never captured your attention?” “I will… make sure to look for him next time. Thank you, Sugawara-san.”

“Please, you can call me Suga.”

Suga was right that day, because once Daichi Sawamura captures your attention, it’s downhill from there on.

Exchanged greetings were awkward at first but in a short time, you two would take the time to greet one another and ask how you are. With it began small talk, usually outside Sakanoshita Store, snacks in hand, standing like that for god knows how long.

“So what sports are you doing?” “Soccer!” His face a mixture of surprise and amusement, a moment you hoped would be engraved in your memory forever. Playing the sly, you invited him to one of your practices and he invited you to one of his. Working out and exchanging tactics and suggestions on health were a given after that.

When Suga invited you to the first of many study groups to come, you were none the wiser. “Hey (Name)! I’m holding a study group tomorrow for the upcoming exams. Would you like to join?”

And for your luck, it’d always be the seat next to Daichi or across him that was empty. They either liked to meet up earlier; Suga, Daichi, Asahi-san and Kiyoko-san, or Suga would tell you the time few minutes late for you to show up last.

No complaints though, as fierce as he is on court, Daichi was expectedly good with classes too. He would take the time to explain things patiently if anyone ever needed help, seeing that side of him would make you feel you were included in on a special event. One too delightful to watch and fluttering you in the process.

Firsts is something you experienced quite a lot in High school.

First low grade, first time you had to stay up all night to study, first time you had a bad game and first time you had someone in the audience that you cared for deeply. The first goal you scored was in the very same match, the finishing blow to the game and your winning point. It was the first time Daichi hugged you with an iron grip.

The first time you had snacks at a time so late was when you joined the team. Practices going longer than planned and starvation coming over the lot of you, Ukai’s store is where you all would [go].

The first time Daichi realized his feelings towards you may be bigger than anyone could foresee, it was another late night after practice hangout. As the chill air brushed your cheeks and left clouds of steam in its presence, you were having an energy drink, thanking him for it. One sip and your face was taken over by a new emotion, the surprise of tasting your favorite fruit in the drink, you asked how he knew and he just shrugged with the same small smile of his; a hint of knowing was hidden there but “Dumb luck.” was all he said.

As he started taking notes of what you like and what ticks you’ve got, the small details spilled during study sessions; you found yourself doing the same for him. Study group leading to study dates after an unexpected proposal one evening; a joke with a hint of serious in it.

“Hey have you been to this café downtown? The one that opened recently? I’ve heard they make discounts for couples, we could pretend to be one if you’d like.”

Pretending was easier than asking, little plays for gentler dreams, to avoid the possibility of stern truths and harsh rejections. Something close to disappointment passed through his face but he shook it off quickly, offering a big smile and a nod, “It’s a date, then!”. Oh how the both of you hoped for the words to come true hereafter.

Juggling on the thin line of what-nots, teasing remarks from your friends could not be escaped. And with people who don’t know you two, assuming you were more than just friends, it’d make things more sufferable occasionally. The close calls and the brushing of hands, his breath tingling your cheeks and your eyes watching him with an ever-lasting spark whenever he wasn’t looking around…

Safe to say you were always there for one another, could talk about anything and everything, a shoulder to cry on and a chest to bury your tears deep, a rooted support system at the matches and great consolation for any kind of losses.

Although fights and arguments rare and in-between, one came by after the biggest game of that time, ending with the victory of Aoba Johsai’s epic win. The morale was down, the third years now more lost than ever, for they were so close, fingertips almost grazing at what they’ve been chasing after for the last three years. As everyone started to leave one by one, back to their homes, it was only Daichi and you left behind, back at where it all began.

Frustration clear from his face and the air around him, you reached out a hand, only to stop midair, not touching him, grazing his shoulder or offering a soft pat. It was clear that wasn’t what he needed. Putting on a face of the strong leader for so long, doing the best he could to keep the team up and hopeful; it took everything in him to hold himself together. You wanted nothing more than to help him stay together, stronger than before, than ever.

Consoling words falling short at one point, it was clear he didn’t want to hear.

“Why do you even care so much about this? It’s not like our team faces a great defeat at the beginning, you are not the flightless crows, the depleted ones fallen out of their strenght-“ “Because I care about you, you idiot!” You didn’t mean to yell but maybe it was better to put it out like that.

For the first time in the past hour, his face softened to something new, curious and tender. The “why?” hanging from his lips could be heard from the silencing weight on the street.

“Because I care for you. I love you, can’t you see, how much it hurts me? Do you think I can’t feel your pain and anger right now? Your disappointment and doubts eating at your guts?” Hands acting on their own as words came out of your mouth, you held him in a gentle grip as you kept going.

Aware of the tears gathered at the edge of his eyes, you were numb to yours until he wiped away yours with one step, one touch.

A second step and he was hugging you tight, pressing to himself as much as he can. As if the world around you was reaching its end and he wanted to shield the both of you no matter the consequence. Words mumbled into your hair, you didn’t need to hear to understand what he was trying to say.

Seeing you hand in hand, it was Suga first to cheer on you. A little “Took you long enough!” coming from him didn’t go unnoticed and you could only laugh in response. He did have a point after all. Knowing that, he wouldn’t miss any chance he could get to brag about how it was him to get you two together.

“So our loss to Seijoh was a plan of yours as well?” Daichi said one day and Suga toned down the bragging about being the best wingman.

Joining the club on their practice matches whenever you can was more than just an excuse to see your boyfriend. Getting to see the improvement of your underclassmen made you feel like a mother who first witnessed their baby walking and running. Still doing your best to encourage them whenever you can, you were there with them ‘til the very end.

As school drew near, the immersing? Fear of separation hovered over. It was without a doubt you all would keep in touch but there was something saddening about having to leave high school behind and begin a new chapter of your lives. No more cozy lunch breaks with your friends, you could never get to enjoy the sudden taste of spotting Daichi across the hall during your breaks, waving at each or blowing kisses at one another. No more after school practices together, farewell joint work out sessions and early practices.

With the ever pressing matter of this, all you could was to live in the moment, enjoy it fully and through, take as many mental pictures as you can, laugh your heart out until tears come out and Suga’s face hurt from smiling so much, until Kiyoko cracks down a smile and joins in on your schemes, Asahi watching the rest of you with worry…

And Daichi by your side, almost all the time. Suga would say you two were attached by the hip. On the walks home, you’d offer him your arm and he would pull you to himself instead, an arm wrapped around your waist, your head on his shoulder, inhaling each other’s scent and watching the sun set.

When the awaited time came at last, first thing you did was to run to him, yelling where you would be going for studying. Joining on your joy and little celebration dance, he pulled you to himself and wore the same proud smile he always had whenever his thoughts lay on you.

“Let’s have a treat like always to celebrate!”

“You mean- Ukai’s store?”

“Why not? We should have as many Karasuno snack memories as we can there.” Seeing the unease on your face, Daichi placed a kiss on your head and leaned in for a hug.

“Come on. My treat.” With a quick nod on your part, he grabbed his jacket and the two of you were on your way out. Your feet practically skipping, you couldn’t contain your enthusiasm and started rambling off about anything you could spot on the way, hands never stopping once.

“Hey! Wait a second. You never told me where you got in!”

“So… hungry… cannot- talk…” He said in a rather mimicking voice, low, his unoccupied hand reaching out to a nonexistent table of feasts, clearly impersonating the many times you’ve done the same thing to him.

“Okay, so be it. I can wait!” At your words, he shot a grin your way and pulled you further to himself.

By the time you reached Ukai’s store, purchased anything you craved and got out- another request of Daichi’s, “For old times’ sake.” he simply said. As you were busy unwrapping, his eyes lingered on the store and the trees around, each stone and person passing by.

He speaks so quietly, you don’t register his words at first: “It’ll feel weird coming back here as college students. I’ll miss seeing through the eyes of a crow.”

Your hands coming to a halt, you look at him, at his eyes and the corner of his mouth, and he doesn’t keep your expecting eyes waiting. “But it’ll be a new beginning for us. Visiting again as the students of (University Name) this time.”

Turning back to face you, with the same smug grin of his, it catches you off guard, even if only for a second. Food be damned, you throw yourself at his arms, the very same ones you found consolation and comfort many times before, and before either of you can realize, you lock your lips, Daichi holding you in his arms, spinning you around.

It feels so normal and natural yet magical, another first in the chamber of joy and the course of living, in the cycle of life and everything. As everything else around you seems to tone down, colors faded back into the background as well as the sounds, you are startled by the shout, a little too familiar. Offering Coach Ukai a sheepish grin, you pull Daichi by his hand and run off to where your feet guide you; the laughter coming from the both of you ringing in the air, bubbling up in your chest and making you feel.

The cycle rounds up again and you take on the new step, from now on comes new beginnings, each one a new adventure test, new taste to try, to drink, run and yell, scream and dance.

It always leads back to certain places engraved in your lives. The same café you first went for an impromptu date, the same park you had a picnic, the familiar front of Sakanoshita Store, the same benches you’ve sat together many times before and fell asleep many more…

Be it a celebration after the tiring week of finals, or a study date gone rogue, a party to celebrate one’s birthday or just a quick run-down the store due to an emergency craving; it always rounds back to the same places, although new settings come once in a while to be joined.

Seasons pass, people come and go, things change and flowers bloom.

The waters wash down the worries just as hit against the rocky cliffs, sharpening some and softening the others, the breeze gently grazing your cheeks and the sun leaving little kisses.

Another day of walking together, nothing particular in mind to do and you find yourselves in front of the Sakanoshita Store like many times before.

“Do you want anything?” you ask Daichi and he just shakes his head. Whispering “I’ll be out in a minute.” you go in.

By the time you are out, Daichi’s attention seems elsewhere, gazed focused on far away, on something that’s not even here. Breaking out of the trance upon hearing your steps, he turns to face you, an expression you haven’t seen in a while, at least not directed at you.

“(Name)-“ he begins, “The past years I’ve gotten to know you, live with you and by your side, they have been the greatest years of my life.” Your breath comes to a pause, unsure of what will follow his words.

“And ever since I’ve met you, you have become a butterfly in my heart. In my stomach, exciting me with your presence; in my mind, entrapping? My thoughts and ideas; flowing in my blood like the oxygen and filling my heart with emotions I could never imagine be true.”

Holding your hand with his, in a manner he has done before, his gaze follows your fingers and trails up back to you. “And just like a butterfly, my life has entered a cycle. A mere caterpillar meeting you, chrysalis never seemed so easy with you, and with that I’ve emerged as someone bright new. Over and over again. Each moment we’ve shared, a new cycle; each day coming to an end, the cycle would carry us back here; each tender memory now engraved in my heart is a gift from you and my days I’ve spent with you.”

Another deep breath and he adds lastly. “So thank you. For giving me this opportunity and letting me live through so many lives, more chances than a butterfly could ever have.”

As your heart stammers in your chest, torn apart on how to feel and what to say, you just stare. “I… I don’t understand-“

“My butterfly-“ Daichi says as he squeezes your hand, “Would you be so kind and allow me to experience more cycles by your side, take me into your heart and life, share a leaf for now and ever?”

When put out like that, it seems clear as day, as the sky above you in that very moment. And all you can say is to let out a “Yes!” and throw yourself into his arms, like you’ve always done.

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stardancerluv · 4 years

Text

A Time When You Needed Roman

Summary: you get one piece of bad news after another, Roman comforts you in his own way.

Warning: Dommy!Roman, teasing, beginnings of fingering.

Arthur’s Note: Tonight, I was actually working on Jerome’s new chapter but I got very frustrating and bad news. It has left me with worry. So I stopped writing Jerome and seeked out the comfort Roman could give. Enjoy!

Takes place within months of Creative Fervor’s final chapter!

Usually, Roman was the one who was moody or even down right temperamental. You or Victor would be there to bring him down from the brink of an angry outburst. Many a people still had their faces or even lives because you talked him back. Of course, there was the rare occasion, when you fully encouraged him.

You were far from perfect, you were very well aware of who you had fallen hard for, Roman Sionis.

He was a force of his own. People feared and loved him. People desired and were disgusted by him. To you, he was your world. Together, you continued to grow into the relationship you shared.

Today, was not your day. You had woken up feeling fine. But then, it went down hill from there. You were ready to face the blank canvas in your studio. After sitting down, your personal number rang.

Sighing, you got up. “Hello?”

“Is this Y/N who was hired to design..”Things grew muffled.

“Hello?”

“Sorry about that,” The voice was clear once again. “Were you hired to design an infinity chair?”

“Yes, for Mr. Edward Enigma.”

“Hello, I am his lawyer. We lost the case, so for the next six to twelve months he will be away in Arkham. If he gets out for good behavior, we will be in touch.”

“Oh, he really thought this was open and shut.”

“We both did.” You heard the lawyer sigh. “Well, not to hold you up any further, we’ll be in touch.”

“Alright, thank you.”

You out the phone back on its cradle.

Stretching, you rolled your eyes. You knew he was bad news, far too many riddles.

Sitting, back down grabbing one of your pencils, now you could start your day.

But then, the shrill ringtone you reserved for Harley filled your studio.

Closing your eyes, you shook her head.

“Yes, Harley?”

“Hi Dolly.”

You rolled your eyes. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well, you see Puddin wants to go a different route with our um place.”

You gritted your teeth before speaking. “Does be want to reschedule?”

“He actually doesn’t he said we only redecorated a year ago and he still likes it.”

“Ahh. Well, that’s ok.”

“Will you be with Romy tonight.”

“Yes.”

“Great, I will buy a drink tonight. Maybe we can discuss my room in our place.” You heard some muffled sounds.

“Alright, see you tonight.” Getting up, you pushed your stool away.

You were seething. You were supposed to help them from top to bottom. Now, the prince of crime was having second thoughts. Fuck him.

You stormed over to Roman’s off. He was hanging over some maps. Your steps, creaked as you walked in. He looked your way, his hair not styled back with his pomade, fell softly into his face.

“Do not offer Harley or that asshole Joker any free drinks tonight.”

“Alright, good. They are two black holes.”

Turning, on a heal you walked out. You were such a horrible mixture of emotions. You could cry, you could scream but instead you shook. You walked back to your studio. Right now you needed your music. You would blare it and then see how you felt. Such, this was the fickle lifestyle of an artist.

You were grateful for Roman at these moments yet there was still that part of you that was incredibly independent and you hated having lean against him during these times.

You stepped a a few steps into your studio and you shook with annoyance and feeling so helpless.

Two arms came around you, instinctively you put up a small fight. “Baby.” His voice was soft and even. “Don’t fight. Let me hold you.” You took a breath, the timber of his voice chipped away at the walls, that you had just built around to feel better.

His hands wrapped around your wrists and unwound your arms that you had not even realized you had wrapped tightly around yourself. “There you go.” He encouraged as you continued to breathe.

Simply, he just held you.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asked sometime later.

You nodded, you could feel as his hold on you then loosened up. Turning, you met his eyes, then nestled in his throat.

“First, Enigma canceled on me.” You finally told Roman. “He’s going away for a bit. So that job got canceled.”

“Harley called shortly afterward. That big job, they gave me? Poof all gone.”

“Bastard.” Roman’s mouth took a sharp line, then his eyes met yours and they burned with an idea. You were sure of it. “Baby, do remember that originally, I was supposed to hire you and woo you?” He raised his eyebrows, in a way he knew you found irresistible.

“I remember.”

“Well, I am hiring you Ms. Y/N will you please accompany me to my office? I would like to share with you, my vision.”

“Roman...”

“I’m serious. It’s about time I have one of your pieces.” He ushered you into his office. “May, I grab you a drink? Perhaps a piece of chocolate or perhaps me?” He smirked.

You chuckled, and a smile replaced the smirk that was splashed across his face. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” Hs went and leaned against his desk.

“But Mr. Sionis, if I am to work for you it would be so unethical for you to offer yourself to me.”

“Baby, do I ever follow the rules?”

“No.”

“Exactly.

*****

Sometime, later you back in your studio, you were drawing away. You would design Roman the absolute best chair. Your mood had significantly improved.

Distantly, sometime later you heard something but couldn’t place it. You ignored it and kept on working. Then the sweet and savory scent of food tickled your nose.

Looking, over you smiled. “Roman, really?”

He shrugged holding onto a tray filled with some of your favorite things to enjoy for brunch.

“I need you to be well fed.” He put the tray down on a small table near the two of you. Putting down your pencil, you went over and grabbed a croissant. Giving, him a softly demure look. Before, pure relish filled you as you took a bite. It was perfect, crusty outside and soft warm center.

You paused mid bite, “Oh, Roman, did Anton, make these fresh?”

He smiled. “Consider, this me wooing you.”

“Well, then you can consider me won over.” You went over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

You whispered.

He smirked. “So wouldn’t be nice to scandalize Joker and Harley by not even permitting them into my club?”

“I’d love that but are you sure?” You finished you croissant and slipped your arms under his suit jacket.

He looked down at you, his blue eyes were filled with mischief. “They broke a contract with you.” He shrugged, “Plus, I’ve been thinking of a reason worthy to say, my club, my rules to them.”

“Can I hang off you while you say it to them?”

“Will you wear the purple little number for me as well?”

You smiled up at him, “Anything, for you.” You ran your finger through his black hair. “Would you like it, if I wore my stockings with the garter belts.”

His eyes lit up as his lips curled into a smile. “I might have to reach under the dress and snap them.”

The idea immediately made your stomach churn with excitement. Going, on your tip toes, you grazed your lips on his throat. “I certainly hope you do.”

*****

Sitting at your vanity, you slipped on one silky thigh high and then the other. Standing and making sure everything was even and laid just the right way, you carefully then affixed them with the garter. You turned, you inspected yourself they were a bit of work but they looked good. Wiggling, just so you slipped your bee purple dress on.

This time, you could not resist twirling. When you stopped, you met Roman’s reflection in the mirror. He whistled. “Look at you,” he beckoned you to him. Happily, you did reaching under the short hem of the dress, his gloved hands grabbed onto your ass and he held you to him. “Fuck, you look beautiful.”

You looked at him, as demurely as you could. “So yes?”

“Yes.” He growled.

******

His gloved hand rested on your thigh since the two of you came down from the penthouse. He gave you a squeeze. Which was already a little over an hour.

“Roman, Y/N” Victor grimaced, scratching the back of his head. “Joe, needs you. Joker and Harley are demanding a word.”

Roman, slid you a look. “Ready?”

You smiled. “Yes.”

Getting up, he smoothed himself then held out a hand. You took it. He moved easily with you through the Saturday, night crowd. Most knew to move out of the way and those that didnmt simply did since it was the polite thing to do.

He had made sure to tell Joe and the others to keep them outside. Once, outside he smiled ready seeing a rather annoyed Joker and flustered Harley. He wrapped a tight around your middle.

He looked them up and down, before turning to Joe. “Is there a problem?”

Joe, sighed. “They would like to come in.”

“Oh! I see.”

Joker, gestured at Joe and then him. “What is going on here, Roman?”

“Nothing actually, was there something you needed?” Roman, ran his fingers through his hair. “I do have some guests to attend to.”

Harley, looked at you. “Are we not having a drink tonight?”

You tightened your arm around Roman. “Guess not.”

She looked at him. “Romy?”

“Yeah?”

Joker laughed. “Roman, cut it out. Let us in.”

Roman, looked down at you. He enjoyed the radiant smile you gave him back. “It’s my club and I really don’t care to have you two in there tonight.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Good night.”

“Roman Sionis,” Joker practically growled. “You’ll regret this.”

Roman, didn’t even bother to look back.

“Oh, that was so much fun.” Delight gave your voice a sweet ring to it.

“It was.” Roman glanced around, the he placed a hand on either knee. “Baby, make me happy. Draw your the skirt of your dress back just enough, that I can see your garters.”

“Roman, I was half joking.” You practically whimpered and rubbed your thighs together.

“I wasn’t.” His tone, took a firmness he had yet to hear you bot obey.

Now, you were the one whose eyes glanced around. He smiled and squeezed your knees as you rose the skirt of your dress.

The softest of your thighs was exposed to him, he drew his hands up. Though gloved, he could still feel the softness.

He dipped his fingers under the first garter. He once again heard as you inhaled. Pulling back just enough he heard as it snapped back along with the most delicious sound from you. Happily, he did for a second time and once again, he was rewarded with the sound you made.

This was far from the last time he enjoyed playing with your garters that evening.

Much, much later when the club was shadowy and the entertainment had long since left for the day. The people who came and partied had left, even Victor had retired to his quarters up stairs; only you and him remained.

“Baby, come here and sit in my lap but keep your back to me.”

“Alright.”

He said a little straighter and the he enjoyed the pleasure of your weight in his lap. He longer played coy. He pulled your dress up, so only just enough of cover your sweet soft center.

He caressed your thighs opening. “Imagine if I did this while people were not so far dancing, drinking...” Pressing a kiss just behind your ear. He could feel that your pulse was quick.

When he snapped the garters the sharp sound echoed and bounced off the empty club’s wallls.

“Mm, baby.” He purred. “What do I do to you?”

He caressed your inner thighs. Drifting upward, he stopped and heard you whimper at sudden absence of his touch.

Inhaling, he kissed then sank his teeth into your bare shoulder while his hand now free of its glove teased at your wetness. As you felt his teeth, you moved just enough that his fingers could feel the wetness that had been growing.

“Shall I touch your deeper?”

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