#being stolen away into the Right Arm is a robbing of his life that he can't get out of | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

venusjeon · 6 months

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angel in the marble

after you fail to pickpocket him, the famous yet arrogant artist Jeon Jungkook takes you off the streets to make you his servant, and the more you know him, the more you realise he's not as detestable as everyone claims he is.

♔ PAIRING: michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader

♔ GENRE: high renaissance au, angst, smut, humour

♔ WORD COUNT: 8k

♔ WARNINGS: homelessness, stealing, mild swearing/violence/drinking, 90% of this is bickering lmao, mentions of minor characters' death, jealousy and kinda possessiveness?, referenced unconsensual groping (not by jk), a bit of blasphemy, making out, groping, fingering, rough angry sexxx, choking, slapping

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: fun fact this is mostly historically accurate! jk's characterisation, the grocery list doodles, the sack of rome, the beef with his brother, the encounter with his rival (raphael)... are all taken from michelangelo's actual life, even some stuff is quoted from his letters lol. man was fanfic material.

1529, Rome

“How much for that one?”

“No, that one’s sold already.”

It was a lively morning. After days of heavy rainfall, those of high social class were eager to get out and meet under the gentle sun of spring, whose glare reflected on the precious stones of their jewellery; while those of low, out of necessity, couldn’t wait to reopen their businesses or set up their stalls and get back to work. You liked to eye them all as you strolled the streets of Rome.

“To whom?”

“Your friend Taehyung.”

“Agh… How much is that prick paying you?”

The point of the matter was that it was bustling, some colliding if they looked away from where they were going for more than a breath. It worked in your favour for it was then easier to make yourself scarce right after stealing bags of coins, such as those of the three men seemingly bargaining by a workshop’s entrance out of which a large block of marble was being dragged. Perfect.

“Three ducats.”

“Three?! He’s robbing you of two ducats. I’ll pay you the five it’s worth.”

You kept your head low as you approached the pair that seemed wealthier and with those stealthy hands of yours unfastened the bags tied to their belts. After all, pickpocketing was a skill you’d had under your own for some years now, so this was bound to go smoothly.

Because you didn’t realise there was a guardian with them, perhaps you’d grown arrogant.

“I’m sorry, maestro. It’s reserved.”

“But it’ll become a waste in his possession!”

As you slipped away into the crowd, mouth watering at the fresh-baked bread you were going to devour as soon as bought, this brown dog leaped up at you out of nowhere, ignoring your desperate efforts to shake him off. If anything, they caused him to bark.

No, no, no…

The three men turned to the scene playing out not so far, and thinking his dog was bothering you one of them shouted, “Bam, come here, boy!” but as he obediently ran to his owner, you were too slow to hide the bags in your hands. It only took the pair a second to make them out, check whether theirs still hung on their belts, find them not, work out you’d stolen them, look back up, and find you not either.

Of course, you’d made your escape by then, dived into the sea of people and swum through them as quickly as possible, only stopping when you reached an empty vaulted alley to catch your breath.

That was ridiculously close. If you weren’t more careful next–

Your train of thought was interrupted by someone grabbing you by the arm from behind and pushing you against the nearest wall. A grunt accompanied the thud, and a gasp followed at the sight of the two men from before—dog included. Pinned in place, it’d be a bad idea to fight back or attempt to run away again. Fuck’s sake.

“Do you know what happens to thieves?” the one cornering you asked so close that when the cold breeze rustled his hair, some strands grazed your face. You looked away to avoid the tickling rather than out of fear, or so you wanted to believe. “They have a hand cut off. Seems fair, doesn’t it, Jimin?”

By contrast, that Jimin didn’t look intimidating, otherwise still catching his breath from the chase, but he did snatch the coin bags from your hands. “It doesn’t have to be so, maestro. We got our money back. She’s… just a girl.”

“And that exempts her of crime?”

“Please, don’t report me,” you begged, humiliating as though it was.

“Why shouldn’t we?” the maestro scoffed. Maestro… You were being threatened by a damned craftsman, the other one probably his assistant.

“Because I don’t want to lose a hand?”

“Oh, but we wanted to lose money, did we?” You rolled your eyes, and he released his grip only to step away. “Take us to your father, brat. He’ll answer for you.”

It took you a moment to respond, “I don’t have a father, or anyone... Only I can answer for my actions.”

“You’re a beggar?” Jimin asked, taking pity as he studied your appearance for the first time. Dishevelled hair, tattered dress, unpleasant smell… Yes, they should’ve guessed.

“She doesn’t beg, though, does she? She steals.”

“Only from cunts.”

His head snapped to meet your glare, and Jimin laughed, “You seem to not know whom you speak to.” He could be Jesus for all you cared. Uninterested, you petted the dog, Bam, seeing as he’d leapt up at you again. “This is Jeon Jungkook.”

You froze. The Jeon Jungkook? The famous artist who painted and sculpted for the Pope? Whom faraway kings and even emperors commissioned? The one whose genius was said to be changing the world?

At the lack of attention, Bam returned to his master, and that snapped you out of your shock to ask, “Then why do you whine?” The two men frowned, having clearly expected an apology paired with the usual bootlicking. “As if you need that bag more than I!”

“What nerve,” he scoffed again, making you wince by grabbing your arm tighter than before and starting to drag you into the next street. “You’re going straight to the authorities!”

“Wait,” Jimin intervened, thank God. “Weren’t you in need of a servant, maestro?”

“So?”

Jimin pointed at you with his gaze as though it was obvious. “You’re in need of a servant, she’s in need of a roof.”

“I would rather have a hand cut off.”

“I would rather have her hand cut off too.”

Jungkook tried to resume dragging you, but Jimin blocked his way with a soft smile. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N…”

“Do you know how to take care of a household?” Slowly, you nodded, melancholy engulfing you at the memory of cooking or sweeping the floor with your mother once upon a time. Somehow, she always found a way to make chores fun... “Then you qualify for the job. You’ll have three meals a day and a bed to sleep on. And you, maestro, a servant who’ll work her hardest, lest you fire her and she ends up in the streets again.”

Both you and Jungkook reluctantly glanced at each other. Truth be told, you didn’t prefer losing a hand to living with him, you just didn’t like him. Despite being a celebrity, he was a stranger. It just wouldn’t work.

But then, why were you holding your breath, hoping he’d accept?

“We shouldn’t have left Namjoon’s workshop. The marble is about to be delivered,” he said walking away. The air left your lungs in disappointment. It seemed you were to remain a stray cat. Jimin pressed his plump lips apologetically as he gave you enough coins to buy that bread, and you nodded, grateful all the same for his trying. You watched him rush to Jungkook’s side but when this one saw him, he turned around. “Hurry up, brat. If Taehyung gets that block of marble, I’ll not take you in.”

Since the first day, you could attest to Jeon Jungkook’s nature being as rough and uncouth as the rumours claimed, and after living alone with him for two months still believed gossip such as that he’d got the scar on his left cheek in a tavern fight—in which, if you’d chanced to be present, you would’ve rooted for the other individual.

It appeared it wasn’t just others Jungkook was harsh to. However rich his talent had turned him, he behaved like a poor man, consuming food and drink sparingly and out of necessity instead of pleasure, spending only the money required to live decently, sleeping little in order to work on commissions from dawn to midnight…

Why he chose to take little care of himself was a mystery to someone who previously had not been allowed a choice, even if putting work before all was in order to thwart Kim Taehyung’s plans of ruining his career, as he claimed. You doubted his rival was obsessed with him so, but had learned to agree with whatever Jungkook grumbled to avoid disputes. Most times.

Deep down, you had a feeling your boldness amused him. Who else dared get on his nerves?

“I think all you artists fluttering around the Pope are no more than slaves to money,” you let drop once while making his bed. Bam was sleeping peacefully under the window, while Jungkook leaning against the door’s frame behind you, offended to the core. He could help, you thought, or at least loosen my corset a little…

“I, a slave? I’ll be damned… There is an angel inside every block of marble, and I’ll have you know I carve to set it free.”

“Is it the angel that charges the Pope, then, master?” You could feel him barely restraining the urge to throw you out the window, smiled as you finished smoothing out the blankets.

“You missed a wrinkle there.”

Hands on your hips and frown on your brows, you examined the neatly arranged coverings of his bed. “Where?”

“On your face,” he muttered before making his leave.

Not his finest jibe, but the metaphor did stay with you. An angel inside the marble… It perhaps applied to Jungkook himself, though you’d never tell him.

One instance it came to mind was recently, when his assistants and apprentices were invited over for dinner.

Usually, he’d tell you which meals he liked and you’d ask at the marketplace which ingredients to buy, but now that about ten meals were to be cooked a list was needed. So there he sat on his desk in his study, inking said list as you waited in front of him, fiddling with the undershirt that peeked out of your dress’ sleeves. Given that your eyes were fixed on it, you only learned Jungkook was done when the sound of his quill scratching the paper ceased.

“Be back no later than dusk,” he ordered, “I bet there are still Germans and Spaniards lurking about.”

A year had passed since the Sack of Rome, but the mention of it sent a shiver of fear down your spine. Whatever the political reasons for it, you hated everyone involved, for Hell itself would’ve been a more beautiful sight to behold those nine months when the Tiber’s waters remained painted red…

You were lucky to make it through. Your family wasn’t.

“Yes, master.”

“Here,” he said handing you the paper, then picked another letter from a pile of correspondence he’d been going through before your arrival. Jungkook was about to snap its wax seal when he looked up to realise you hadn’t moved an inch. “Why are you here? Away with you!” He saw the reason in the way you avoided eye contact. “You can’t read, can you?” Met with a silence charged with embarrassment, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Give me the list.”

Getting hold of the quill again, Jungkook began… doodling?

You tilted your head but couldn’t see well what he was drawing until he finished and returned the list to you. Then, your lips parted. Each item on the list was illustrated next to its name: ten loaves of bread, a jug of wine, tortellini, four anchovies, two fennel soups…

“I’ll teach you to read when I have time. This will do for now.”

“You’d do that?” For me?

Jungkook ignored you, before he went back to reading his letters complimenting the good gesture with an irritated, “Hurry up.”

That night his co-workers arrived one by one, Jimin the first. The sight of him when you opened the door brightened up your mood.

Unlike a certain someone he was always sweet to you, genuinely interested to know how you fared even if you were just a servant. He claimed that mattered not to him, that you were both commoners and thus equals.

“Look at this place, it’s spotless! And you know I’m furtive, so I won’t get in your way,” you told Jimin as you escorted him through a hallway, bright from the torches hung on the walls that you’d lit up earlier.

He laughed, “I cannot make you my servant, Y/N, you’re maestro’s.”

“But he’s going to drive me mad… To tell you one of many examples, he often falls asleep in his clothes, and who but I is to take his boots off so they don’t get the sheets dirty? If the chalk on his fingers or the dust from the chiseling on his hair won’t already. Bam is far cleaner…”

Jungkook had a workshop he barely set foot in, preferred his team made use of it instead to not be bothered by their idiocy. His words. So it was in a chamber on the ground floor of this house he gave way to artistic insanity. In your book, that meant constant cleaning.

Jimin looked at you fondly. “Sounds nightmarish.”

“It truly is!”

As soon as the two of you entered the dining hall, Bam ran from Jungkook’s side by the fireplace to Jimin, who was as excited to see him.

“Good night, maes–”

“Do you think I’m deaf, ungrateful brat?” Jungkook interrupted him to bark at you. “Rome is full of people begging to get a piece of me, so if you don’t like it here, I’ll just get someone else!”

“You say that and yet keep me like a prisoner!”

“As if you don’t have it better here than anywhere you’ve burdened with your presence before!”

“There, there…” Jimin interjected to de-escalate, kneeling to better stroke Bam. “Maestro, I’ve seen your latest sketch of the Virgin and Child. She resembles Y/N.”

Both you and Jungkook failed to fight off the embarrassment, gazes unable to find a place to settle. Sitting down on the large table, he explained, “It was just one time… I had used Yoongi as a model, but the Madonna looked too masculine... and rather than going through the trouble of finding some girl and hiring her, I had Y/N pose for me… So what! Why bring it up out of nowhere…”

“Because maybe you just need a bit of distance from time to time. With permission, I too would have Y/N pose for m–”

“Absolutely not.”

“Now, why the hell not?” you groaned stamping your foot, startling poor Bam. Hope had been born inside you in a second and cruelly crushed in the next.

“Because I say so. And watch your tone with me.” As usual, the mutual glaring would trick anyone into thinking the next step would be murder. Jimin, who knelt there awkwardly, certainly thought so, at least until the bell rang. “Now go answer the door!”

What happened later, though, rendered the fury Jungkook had evoked in your heart nonexistent and instead seized the thing in a clasp of distress.

In the morning, he walked in when you were sweeping the kitchen. At once you forced the sobs to stop and turned around so he wouldn’t see you wipe your tears.

“It’s past nine, where’s breakfast?” he asked in shock that you hadn’t even started making it, the table there empty.

You swore under your breath before leaving the broomstick leaning against the nearest wall, flushed face kept out of Jungkook’s sight, then in a haste fetched a plate, a knife, and a leftover bread loaf. “Apologies, master, I forgot. I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”

Sniffling betrayed you, at which Jungkook frowned. “Are you crying?”

Great, the question just about especially designed to make one well up. Not trusting your voice anymore, you shook your head. Jungkook approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the task at hand, now cutting a few slices of the bread.

“Have you broken something?” You shook your head again, the suppressed sobs making your chin tremble. Jungkook took a deep breath before asking with a surprisingly soothing tone, “Then what’s wrong?”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Within an hour, he’d summoned a meeting consisting of all who’d attended dinner the previous night.

A seemingly calm Jungkook was sat at the head of the table, elbows sunk on it and fingers interlocked. You stood behind him, head still low out of shame. A tense silence had fallen in the chamber some time ago, and sick of it, Jimin shattered it.

“Have you anything to tell us, maestro?”

“I was waiting for Biagio to do so.”

The man was one of Jungkook’s favourite assistants who had worked with him for years, even longer than Jimin. And if it was possible for your position to be trickier, he belonged to some noble family.

“Me? But I’ve nothing to say, maestro.”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair. “My servant will, then. Y/N?”

Bastard. If you are going to fire me, why make me go through this?

“Last night, w-when I left this hall to go refill the wine jug… Messer Biagio followed me into the kitchen, and… h-he trapped me from behind, and started t-to touch me…” Your vision soon blurred, hence why you couldn’t see clearly how concerned Jimin was for you, or how Biagio jumped up in outrage. “I managed to push him away, and ran upst–”

“How dare you slander me, wench? Maestro, you do not believe this!”

“Do I not?”

“She’s lying! I caught her stealing sketches from your study, likely to sell them, so she’s trying to get rid of me!”

You almost scoffed. Only an idiot would choose the one occasion guests had come over and her absence would be noticed to carry out a theft.

Jungkook tilted his head. “I thought you had nothing to say. Why would you keep such a thing just now?”

Biagio gulped. “I deemed it best to mention it later, in private... You won’t believe a pickpocket before an old friend, will you?”

Silence returned, your breath still as you saw all the assistants and apprentices visibly take pity on him. The only one who didn’t was Jimin, but even on his face there was a hint of hesitation. Jungkook’s, you couldn’t see from behind, but after an eternity he stood up and walked over only to put a hand on the shoulder of Biagio, who smiled in relief.

A quiet sob broke through your lips, heart sinking. You’d needed Jungkook to believe you in this. Not because of the consequences his protection as your master could save you from, but because, like it or not… he was the closest thing to family you had.

It turned out he did believe you, judging by the punch landed on Biagio’s jaw out of nowhere. And the next one on his cheekbone, and on his nose. Before everyone around the table had barely stood up to stop Jungkook, he’d already thrown Biagio down and straddled him, pulling his doublet’s collar in a close, tight grip as he continued beating him up. Blood was drawn, but for once, you didn’t mind having to scrub it later.

Jungkook’s influence trumped a whole noble house’s, you learned in the course of the months Biagio tried his mightiest and failed most miserably to have him arrested. Perhaps because of the Pope sitting on his shoulder.

That he’d taken your side was still hard to believe, all he’d grumbled with a shrug when you thanked him while tending to his wounds from the fight being, “I’d been waiting for the chance. I always thought Biagio was a weasel.”

With the matter resolved, life returned to normal—well, whatever that meant in Jeon Jungkook’s household. Because calling for you at the top of his lungs like a madman was not normal. The first time he’d done it you’d raced downstairs, afraid something horrible had happened, only for him to have you close a window as it was getting chilly. Devil rot him. You rushed no longer after that, much to his complaints.

Today, he didn’t notice right away when you appeared under the cased opening, and good thing he didn’t, for he was polishing a bust with sandpaper… shirtless.

Product of hours carving stone into his desired shape or occasionally beating someone up, he could brag of having muscles, which the current task had covered in a layer of sweat and dust. The way they flexed with each movement had you compelled, wanting to reach out, feel if his skin was as hot as the blood pumping through your veins faster and faster. Then your gaze moved to the bust and whatever spell you were under broke.

Hardly an angel was that widowed noblewoman, whom you wished had stayed trapped inside a block of marble. Her name was Madonna Maddalena, and she’d come some weeks past to make a commission covered in pearls, gold, and boldness.

“My friends refused to accompany me today. You’re said to be… disagreeable, which I’m sure is untrue. However, all of them do want to know if you’re as fine-looking as is also rumoured, maestro” she told Jungkook within minutes of meeting him, still by the entrance!

Now you can tell them he’s not, you bit your tongue before it remarked, as this wasn’t Jimin but a patron not to be scared away by your bickering. It wouldn’t be true anyway. All your master lacked in manners, he made up for with looks… Which you’d never say out loud. You’d never say either that he looked even better when irked.

“I’ve heard many rumours about myself, most of them nonsense. My appearance was involved in none.”

She smiled seductively. “I suppose I’ll have to be the one to spread them.”

“The weather is pleasant today,” Jungkook changed the subject, flustered beneath the formal demeanour. “Shall we have wine in the garden?” You left to prepare it not before catching Maddalena raise her brow at you in disapproval. She must’ve been able to tell you thought she was a pompous cunt.

The beautiful flowers you cared for tried their best outside, but the air didn’t get any better.

Sat around a small table, Maddalena explained she wanted a bust of herself by his talented hand to decorate the main hall of her palazzo. You served them wine, not really listening until Jungkook started playing hard to get. The hundred times you’d told him it wasn’t a good tactic to make his labour out to be too prestigious had apparently fallen on deaf ears.

“Any other artist could carry this out, Madonna. I am working for the Pope these days…” he subtly scolded her, a mere mortal, for wasting his precious time. And he wondered why he had a reputation for being arrogant.

Maddalena put his thoughts into plain words, “So why should you stoop to taking commissions from an insignificant widow?”

“Correct,” you said under your breath, luckily heard by none from the background, where you stood holding a wine jug until the madonna raised her cup and you approached to refill it.

“It is then fortunate I’m to marry a nephew of the Pope’s.”

Swayed by her future influence, Jungkook smiled back. “So it is.”

“But not for another week. ‘Till then, I belong to no man.” The suggestion in her tone almost drove you to spill wine all over her. No, better yet: order Bam to sic on her. He’d do it.

Just, who did this woman think she was? And why did Jungkook not kick her out right afterwards? It made you wonder whether he’d enjoyed the flirtation. Whether he would’ve been the one to take things further had his inconvenient servant not been present. It was common for men to have affairs and lovers, but it didn’t sit well with you that Jungkook might. Not that you ever imagined him doing any of that, for goodness’ sake–

“What took you so long?”

Jungkook’s voice brought you back to the present, under the cased opening.

“I was lazing about, as always,” you quoted his favourite false reprimand, making him roll his eyes, your own dropping to the floor when he walked closer.

“In that case, prepare a bath for me.”

“Yes, master.”

You sighed at all the work ahead. That being a servant was worlds better than living in the streets didn’t mean you looked forward to collecting gallons of water from a well, carrying them back, heating them, transferring them to a tub, then washing Jungkook—because you did wash him.

Biagio had hurt his left shoulder bad and ever since, he’d needed assistance in certain activities. Curious how he could otherwise chisel a goddamned bust without problem.

Jungkook’s full nudity only made you blush if you stopped scrubbing, so knelt with tucked up sleeves before the wooden tub he was reclined on, scrubbing away the dirt on his skin with lavender-scented soap you were. Maybe all the stupid feelings you’d been suffering lately stemmed from there…

Head resting on the edge, he was exhausted from the long day of work, taking your rubbing as a relaxing massage. You, however, couldn’t ignore the stinging guilt, what with the scar on his shoulder right in front of your face. He probably felt your breathing on it.

“I’m sorry you got hurt…”

Jungkook fought heavy lids only to see you avoid him. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable in front of him was embarrassing, as when he’d caught you crying, but he didn’t take advantage of the fact to humiliate you. Jungkook may be an ogre, but he wasn’t cruel.

“I’ve received worse for less,” he assured you in a calm, low voice. It sounded soothing to your ears.

“That, I don’t doubt,” you scoffed, glancing at his other scar on the cheek. “Did you also get that one in defence of some lady?”

“You’re nowhere close to a lady.” It could be done, you mused. Drowning him. “This was courtesy of my brother.”

“You have a brother?” It dawned on you how little you knew of him. Surely, most had heard it all about the divine Jeon Jungkook, but you’d never cared enough to learn past the shell of gossip, even after months of living with him. In fairness, he’d never asked about you either. You preferred it that way.

“Brothers,” he corrected you. “The one who did this to me was a wayward fool. Had to teach him a lesson.”

“Looks like he taught one to you.”

“I left with a scratch, he with a limp.” The conception of two brothers hurting each other so harshly widened your eyes for a second, and Jungkook noticed, for he added, “He was whoring around, wasting the money I worked hard to send, bullying our other brothers as well.”

Much made sense about Jungkook all of a sudden. Not his personality, that was incomprehensible. But why he killed himself to earn money and yet barely spent it… He had a family to provide for. Once again, you were reminded of his metaphor. Could an angel be in there?

Carrying on washing Jungkook, you dragged the sponge over to his neck. Then his collarbones, his chest, his abs just peaking above the water... They did look like a sculpture’s, especially wet and soaped, reminiscent of polished marble when the light of the torches reflected on them. Swallowing hard, the back of your fingers gingerly graced Jungkook’s muscles, both soft and firm. Slippery. Whatever possessed you to keep feeling them, you lacked the will to expel from your body, and so without realising your grip on the sponge loosened until it fell to float away, fingertips now free to roam over his abs.

You were slowly trailing downwards, past the water’s surface, when your wrist was seized and held in the air in a warning manner, the startle almost making you scream.

Sat upright, Jungkook was glaring at you so fiercely you feared for your life. But he didn’t say anything and instead just breathed hard, jaw clenched… almost as if he was holding back. Your rising heartbeat was deafening in the silence waiting for something to happen, anything, but what did wasn’t what a side of you anticipated with excitement.

Jungkook just let go of your wrist and returned to his previous position, and you got hold of the sponge and finished washing him, albeit holding your breath the entire time.

Days later, you came dangerously close to being fired.

The Pope had summoned Jungkook—something about a portrait commission—and you were to carry his bag filled with sketches for him due to his shoulder injury. As you navigated the ever-busy streets of Rome with him, the cold autumn breeze made you regret not putting on an overgown. The cioppa you’d bought with your own salary and not stolen. It brought a smile to your lips that faded at the realisation your mother would’ve reminded you to put it on before going out.

The sorrow pestering you turned to confusion when Jungkook stopped walking and tsked, telling you loud enough to be heard by all, “Look at him, the chief of police, with such an assemblage.”

A well-dressed man and what appeared to be his entourage walked in your direction, halting near enough. You didn’t have to ask to know this was his rival, the renowned painter Kim Taehyung.

“Whereas you, like an executioner, walk alone,” he mocked Jungkook, then noticed you standing behind him like a timid child. “Not completely, my mistake. Maestro, where in your barren soil did you plant such a flower?” He walked over to you, intentionally bumping Jungkook’s wounded shoulder as he passed, causing him to grunt lowly. From up close one was bound to marvel at how handsome Taehyung was, but you didn’t need proximity to tell he was a prick. Miles away, you would’ve known. “Why don’t you come work for me, flower? I’ll make you my muse.”

Jungkook scoffed again, “What, for your horseshit paintings? She’d be a fool to.”

Taehyung turned around to face him, feigning confusion with a smile. “But, maestro, how could they be so if you were once heard saying that all I have in art, I got from you?”

"You naturally have to resort to plagiarising my master’s genius if all you do is horseshit,” you countered, earning surprised looks from every man present, some laughs too, you were proud to say. Jungkook was certainly smirking. Taehyung opened his mouth, but you walked past him uninterested before a response came out of it.

“Good girl,” Jungkook laughed while leaving the crime scene, and for some reason your cheeks burned hot.

The incident happened once inside the Vatican.

Its grandiose corridors alone made you feel small, too unimportant to walk them, whereas Jungkook did so with determination, knowing he belonged at the top of the world. What with your tempestuous relationship, it was easy to forget he was famous throughout Europe. His feet would still never be kissed by you. Someone had to humble the man, right?

At some point the two of you arrived at a door flanked by guards, and averse, you grabbed the sleeve of Jungkook’s doublet.

“Do I have to go in?”

“Too good for the Pope, are you?” He shook you off. “Come on.”

“Damn you…” you muttered.

“What did you just say to me?”

“After you, master.”

Telling himself he’d be late if he scolded you, Jungkook turned and nodded at the guards, who opened the door of a chamber whose walls were frescoed with angels and saints, likely by Taehyung, giving off the impression one was in Heaven. When you saw him sat on a golden chair, old and grey, enjoying the tune of a lute player, you felt as though you’d just entered Hell.

The audience lasted for ever. While you stood by the door, Jungkook showed the Pope some sketches of the portrait for him to choose his favourite and then they talked and talked of politics. All you could do was fix your gaze somewhere on the floor and sigh.

“Yes, Your Holiness, this is the servant I mentioned…” A frown proceeded your looking up to see Jungkook somewhat embarrassed, scratching his nose as if to hide his face. He talked of you to others? Doubtless to complain…

With a sweet voice as if he was talking to a little girl, the Pope asked you, “What is your name?”

“None of your business, Your Holiness.”

The musician’s tune ceased abruptly, allowing Jungkook’s faint gasp to be heard. Then fell a short silence spent by the Pope blinking, taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

Jungkook was quick to fake a laugh, though sweat formed at his temples. “A jest! She meant no offence, Your Holiness, but to make you laugh.”

You held the Pope’s glare in defiance, indifferent to the fact he was the most powerful man in the whole of Christendom.

By some miracle, he let it go, and you left that chamber minutes later with your head as yet attached to your body. Your arm wouldn’t be for much longer, though, given Jungkook was forcibly dragging you all the way out to the streets, pushing you into the first alley he saw.

“Are you out of your mind?!” he shouted, towering over you menacingly. Unlike the day you’d met, you weren’t scared, rather furious as him as you stood your ground. “That was the Pope, you fool!”

“So?”

Jungkook was in utter disbelief. “He could’ve ordered your execution– mine too!”

“Well, nothing happened!”

“Nothing?! I’m sure to fall out of favour!” He paced around, anxiety quickening his breath. “Years of pouring my soul into my craft, of grovelling before the right people, all thrown away! Good God, your attitude may cost me everything…”

“And what about me?! Everything lost to me does not matter?!”

Jungkook stopped to frown. “What the hell are you talking about?”

It was now you who walked up to him. “I didn’t have a job, or a reputation, or admirers. I had only a family, and I never wished for anything else! That monster you work for took them from me. When the foreigners’ armies came and everyone rushed to Castel Sant’Angelo, he gave the order to close the gates as soon as he was safe behind them! You must have been there with him, weren’t you? Well, we weren’t. We were left outside to be slaughtered. And I wish I had been, like my parents, so I didn’t have to suffer the likes of you any longer!”

Tears were streaming down your face by the end, Jungkook just staring back at you. It didn’t surprise him that your parents were dead or that they’d been killed during the Sack, but that it was so deep a wound left festering in your heart that you didn’t mind being put out of misery. He surmised your disrespectful behaviour towards him was also fruit of your pain, especially if you deemed him an ally of the one who caused it.

“The few things I own… They’re wasted on me. Throw them away or give them to your next servant,” you sobbed, taking for granted you were fired. Anyone with half a brain would indeed have you dismissed, and part of you knew it was bound to happen, that you would go back to breaking in fucking churches to spend the night.

So you turned around into the main street, set on wandering until your legs became too sore not to collapse. With any luck, a carriage would run over you. But warmth then surrounded your hand, and you looked down to see Jungkook’s holding it tight enough to force you to halt. Though still mad, a hint of compassion sparkled in his eyes.

“Let’s… Let us just go home.”

Home. His house had felt so for a while now, truth be told. Himself too.

After that, you non-verbally agreed on a ceasefire—avoiding quarrels, that is, which was quite the task for both.

Such as now that Jungkook had you inking down a letter in his name. First of all, did you look like a scribe? If you’d known in advance the lazy arse would teach you to read and write for this, you’d have chosen to remain illiterate. And second, this was your short break before making dinner, intended to be spent playing with Bam. The poor thing was also in the study, at least being stroked by his owner, who was sat beside you on the desk.

“… I send you my regards, may God keep you from all harm. Jeon Jungkook in Rome,” he finally finished dictating, and you recording. “Give it to me, I’ll seal it.”

He was melting the wax with which to do so when the bell rang, to his surprise. Sighing, you stood up and went to open the door to whom turned out to be Jimin. The sight of him brightened you up, and yours stretched his lips into a smile.

“Evening, Y/N.”

“Good evening! I didn’t know the master was expecting you.”

“He isn’t…” You welcomed him in, brows joining at how he continuously chewed on his aforementioned lip and breathed deep through his nose as he followed you. Had something happened…? A decision to eavesdrop was made en route to the study.

Though Jimin requested for you to stay once there, and nothing could have prepared you for the reason why.

“This actually concerns Y/N…” You and Jungkook exchanged confused looks, him leaning against the desk and crossing arms as though he didn’t like the sound of that. Jimin fixed his already perfect clothes before addressing him, “I’ve come to ask for her hand in marriage.” Your jaw dropped. “I know it’s sudden at the lack of previous courtship, but I thought I should ask for your permission before engaging in it, maestro. She’s a lovely girl… and I think she’d be happy as my wife. Worry not, I won’t ask for a dowry or for her to stop working… Although on second thought, fewer hours of service would be ideal.”

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be happening.

Jungkook must be thinking the same, for he squinted to ask, “Are you drunk?”

“N-No, of course not.”

“Are you sure? You want to marry a servant with little to her name.” He had a point, so you weren’t offended. If politics weren’t the reason for a union, did this mean… Jimin had feelings for you?

“Maestro, you say it as if I were a lord,” he chuckled. “I don’t care about Y/N’s possessions, I’ll provide for her anyway. I’ve… always been fond of her. And I dare say she shares the sentiment.”

Betrayal hid safely behind a look that asked if there was any truth to that. Obviously not! There was no romance in your own fondness for Jimin. If anything, you had thought he saw you as a younger sister to look after, therefore as a protective older brother you saw him. But so shocked were you still that no words managed to come out, and Jungkook’s gaze shifted back to Jimin.

“I’ll think about it. You may go.”

A curt tone was the norm for Jungkook, it was not being granted his blessing that disappointed Jimin. He knew for a fact he was an honourable man, so why wouldn't he entrust you to him?

“Quite well… I’ll show myself out.” he uttered, before making his leave failing to hide his low spirit by giving you one last shy smile you hadn’t the heart to return.

An awkward silence filled the air that even Bam daren’t break. Only once the front door was heard shutting did you walk closer to Jungkook.

“You won’t agree to this, will you?”

“Why shouldn’t I? I have to get rid of you at some point.”

“Rid of me? Like I’m a burden?” you asked, voice rising. How a servant could be so was unknown to you until, like wooden ship toys did when you’d submerge them in a bucket of water as a child, certain guesses surfaced in your thoughts. Trying to pickpocket him, the constant clashing, Biagio, that bath, the Pope… Yes, you may perhaps be described as a burden. But you didn’t want to leave. With a calmer tone, you pleaded, “I’ll behave from now on. I won’t cause any more trouble, I swear.”

Jungkook didn’t deign to look your way as he left, followed by Bam. “You have to marry at some point, Y/N. Otherwise people will gossip.”

Since when did he care about what people said of him? And why should you?

Winter having dropped its anchor, nightfall arrived early. Not early enough, you brooded as you cooked dinner, longing for the day to end once and for all. With any hope, all of this was a nightmare and upon waking up in the morning life would go back to normal. You didn’t even know why you wanted to stay with Jungkook, as the occasions in which you’d begged Jimin to employ you to leave this house were countless. The only certain thing was that you were upset.

Later, after washing all plates and cups, you began to put off all torches lighting the house, finding out in the hall that Jungkook hadn’t moved from the seat he’d dined in. You considered carrying on with your job and leaving him in the dark, but he wouldn’t find it as funny. Instead, you stood before him.

“Will that be all, master?”

The coldness in your expression made him sigh, “Y/N–”

“I shall retire, then.” You turned to leave but were made to stop in your tracks.

“It’s an advantageous proposal for you,” he lectured to whom he must believe an idiot. “Jimin works for me, he’s wealthy. A better match than you could ever aspire to. And he asks for no dowry because he doesn’t want money, he wants you…” His words were tainted with resentment. “He’ll take good care of you.”

Skirt of your dress swirling along, you faked a smile. “If you think so, master, then it must be so.”

He shook his head as he leaned back in defeat. “Suit yourself, but I won’t be the one to reject Jimin. You crush his heart.”

A laugh escaped you. “If you genuinely cared about him, you wouldn’t let him marry a woman in love with–” Oh no. It only hit you as you were saying it.

Jungkook had appeared annoyed, but now he was mad. “Who?” He stood up abruptly—chair’s feet scratching against the floor making you wince—and walked so close you were backed against the wall, face forced to turn to a side. In a low, deep voice, he repeated, less as a question and more as an order this time, “Who.”

There was no way in the nine circles of Hell you’d say it, when you didn’t want to believe it in the first place. For fuck’s sake, why? Jungkook only ever made you want to get away from him. That was the case right now, but then… why were your feet frozen?

Some unreasonable part of you seemed to have prevailed upon the others, casting away all resistance from your body and allowing yourself to indulge in Jungkook’s proximity. You met his eyes without fear, held his dark gaze. It didn’t take him long to work it out, yet he kept close, so close your unsteady breaths mingled, the effect akin to intoxication. He was visibly trying to hold back, telling himself it’d be a bad idea, but you prayed he wouldn’t care.

By God or the Devil, your prayers were heard.

Jungkook finally smashed his lips into yours, devouring them with a hunger you shared and felt growing as he gripped your waist to press you against him. A minute ago, you wouldn’t have imagined his tongue belonged inside your mouth, swirling around your own, and now you wanted it all over your body. As if reading your mind, Jungkook broke the ardent kiss to move down to your neck, which he licked painfully slowly before sucking hard, making you hiss with pleasure. He knew that would leave a mark, the bastard. You wondered if it was meant for Jimin, so he’d see you were Jungkook’s, and in such case you didn’t mind, let your eyelids close to enjoy it.

Steered by the lust possessing you, one hand grabbed his soft hair in a fistful, keeping his head in place where he was sweetly abusing your neck, while the other travelled southwards until it reached his crotch and held it over the trousers, feeling his cock stiffen. Jungkook groaned—a vibration to your skin—in retaliation lifting your skirt. You’d thought he'd take his time, tease you, but after ensuring you were wet enough by gliding his middle finger along your core, he slid it inside and began making beckoning motions.

“Master…” you moaned, legs shaking. Jungkook forsook your neck to pull back, watch how you struggled to keep it together as he added another finger, curling and uncurling them both, hitting all the right places, and unwilling to give him that satisfaction without consequences you groped his erection with the same vigour. Although he was in good control of his expression, his breath quivered against your lips, so he kissed them again, biting hard into your lower one.

He exhaled, “You’re driving me to sin…”

Indeed, the same fingers that held the brushes when he painted religious artwork were buried deep inside your cunt, bringing you the most sinful ecstasy. It made you chuckle. Jungkook took that as the mockery it was and, crossed, pulled his fingers out of you to drag you by the arm to the edge of the table, where he had you sit. Without delay he lifted your skirt again, only this time he also pulled down his trousers to reveal his cock, thick and throbbing, which he pumped as he watched you spread your legs eagerly, ready to take all of him.

With his free hand Jungkook cupped your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip, coated with saliva and reddened still from when he’d bit it. He could sense your desire, that you craved him inside, had for a while. Desperately. And however much tempted he was to make you beg for it, his own arousal led his cock to your entrance and eased it inside already, another groan hitting the back of his bared teeth. You didn’t have time to gasp, his thrusts so quick they earned only moans, so wonderful did it feel.

Jungkook’s hand on your cheek then wrapped around your neck. “Do you know how often I’ve fantasised strangling you?”

You chuckled again as you slapped him across the face. Jungkook halted his movements in shock, glared at you. “And I slapping you?”

It took him a moment, but he scoffed and pushed you back so that you were lying down, climbing next atop you, confident that the wooden table was sturdy enough to hold both. So legs hooked around his torso and arms around his neck, you welcomed his thrusts, rough enough to make your eyes water. But it felt heavenly, how he ravished you... The mutual irritation and tension building up for over half a year translated into indescribable pleasure.

He kissed you again, flicking his tongue against yours as he pounded into you without mercy. Overwhelmed by the sensation, all you could do to express you were nearing your limit was sink your nails into Jungkook’s biceps at each side of you, moan inside his mouth. He took the hint and fucked you as fast as his body would allow, within mere seconds your walls clenching tight around him. The sight of you collapsing under him, overcome with bliss, made him reach his own highest shortly, spurting his warm seed inside you.

As his movements gradually ceased, so did your panting. Before a complete silence fell, you asked, “Am I still to marry Jimin?”

Jungkook grabbed your face and growled against your pouted lips, “You’re not going anywhere.”

#bts au #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bangtan imagine #bts smut #jeon jungkook scenarios #bts fic #jeongguk #bangtan #bts x you

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shares-a-vest · 1 year

Text

What do you mean it was the anniversary of the death of a dorky gay metalhead???

Tw: medical stuff/hospital setting. it's fairly mild

29th March, 1986

"Hey, Steve?"

He turns in his chair to look at Robin. She's standing side by side Nancy, who has her arm around Dustin, still red-eyed and tired. They'll all tired.

It has been just under 48 hours since Steve had used the last of his strength to lift Eddie (with the aid of Nancy, Rob and the wobbly stack of furniture on both sides of the Gate) out of the Upside Down.

Eddie was barely alive, bloodied and breathing shallow. The hard fall that Steve caught the most of probably not making the situation better as they tumbled back into the real world. Nancy had commandeered the stolen RV to the hospital, dropped them off and doubled back to the Creel house for Max and the Sinclairs.

Almost immediately they were separated, Eddie wheeled off to god knows where, while Steve was treated in emergency at Robin's insistence. Then at some point he'd passed out, a combination of the pain from his wounds and whatever drugs were pumped into him.

This fucking IV. Two days later, he's still hooked up to it, not dragging it along into Eddie's room like he did the first night because Robin has taken to wheeling Steve around in a wheelchair.

He's sitting by Eddie's bedside now. Watching. Waiting for him to wake up.

Apparently he awoke early yesterday morning with Wayne in the room. And if he's being honest (and he feels like shit about it), Steve is jealous he missed it. He was having his bandages changed. An excerise that took way too long because they were all quickly moved into the bowels of Hawkins General, top secret by the time Dr Owens suddenly popped up. By then, government clearance was needed to do any god damn thing. So he'd waited for hours between the old bandages going and the new dressings.

Robin would say it wasn't that long...

Anyway, Eddie had briefly regained consciousness in that time.

And Steve missed it.

He looks at Robin, eyes pleading. He shakes his head.

She thankfully nods, despite the smallest shuffle towards him that has Nancy making a sqeaking noise at her.

"Let's go sit with Wayne and have some lunch," she says quietly, squeezing Dustin (equally hesitant to leave the room) and nodding.

Nancy, ever the level-headed one, even in this situation the Scooby Gang had gotten themselves in, was managing everyone and their emotions. She was a godsend.

He tips his head towards the door, nodding along with Nancy. They trio lingered for a moment longer before leaving to venture up into the world.

Steve watches as the door closes, wheeling closer to Eddie's bed.

He reaches out a hand, stopping as he remembers his stupid drip. He yanks it around the left wheel of his chair, slapping it against the floor to free up some length. He reaches his destination this time, resting his hand on Eddie's right forearm, just below those cursed patch of bats. He grumbles at the sight of them and searches for somewhere else to look.

Eddie is covered in bandages, cuts, dried blood and iodine stains. They are still tubes everywhere, maybe a couple less than when Steve first saw him when he'd crept into his room late last night. He'd needed surgery of course, patching up his left side which had been torn to pieces. A nurse quipped that Steve and Nancy had saved him from blood loss with their triage work.

Turns out Steve had finally found a use for his First Aid training post-Lifeguard life. It's not like any life or death situations happened in Family Video...

He wishes he could sit on Eddie's left side, brush away the hair that was tangled with dried blood. He couldn't reach forward enough to brush away his fringe that's sticking to his forehead either.

Steve runs his palm down Eddie's right arm, reaching his hand that is only occupied by a pulse-rate clip on his index finger. He intertwines their fingers, shifting forward in his chair as best he can so he can press a soft kiss to the back of Eddie's hand.

He selfishly holds his hand to his own chapped lips, not caring if it's obstructing the pulse device.

He just needs a moment.

He screws his eyes shut, willing away tears.

"Please wake up for me, Eds."

#lmao writing this waiting for an iron injection #hence the medical details i guess gotta disassociate with my blorbos #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fix-it #lilys ficlets #steddie s4 #steddie ficlet #healing steddie

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mirkwoodshewolf · 2 years

Text

Music is life; Eddie Munson x reader

*Author’s note*

Well this is a first time for everything, although I’ll be honest I’ve been wanting to do a Stranger Things fanfic for awhile (like around s.2) but ever since the first episode of s.4 this man Eddie Munson has STOLEN my heart (and YES I’M STILL NUMB WITH WHAT HAPPENED). So I can speak for everyone that we NEED some Eddie fluff so I DELIVERED!!! Now there’s NO SPOILERS HERE, in fact I’d imagine this is as a PRE S.4 oneshot. Hope you all enjoy this and if there’s anymore Stranger things requests you wanna send my way, I’ve opened it up as a FANDOM TO WRITE just look at my pin post and see what character’s I’ll do.

ALSO SIDE NOTE. PLEASE LISTEN TO THE FILM SCORES I’VE LISTED. (honestly too lazy to do links plus you guys can just search them up on youtube or whatever streaming music service you use to set the mood).

Warnings: fluff, flirty Eddie, swearing.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@peter-parkers-cullen-nerd

__________________________________________________________

The chaos of lunchtime was the perfect time for me to escape to my music. Now while some people would be listening to the latest pop artist, new Queen song, or for people like a certain boyfriend of mine, drown the world out with heavy metal. Me, well I prefer to listen to the great scores of my favorite movies, today’s mixtape was Raiders of the Lost Ark.

I sat with the other ‘band geeks’ as I fingered on the table each note of the main theme when sitting down beside me was my bffl Robin Buckley.

“What’s on the score box for today?”

“Raiders of the Lost Ark.” I replied pausing the song and removing my headphones.

“Ahh, your sexy go to movie.” She teased.

“Hey any chance to see Harrison Ford’s chest is a win in my books. Didn’t see enough of that in Star Wars.”

“I swear you’ve got the weirdest taste in actors.”

“Oh you’re just jealous cause a character like Indy can get a girl like Marion and you can’t. Don’t deny it! Last time I was at the video store and Steve had it playing in the background, you kept staring at her like the way you stare at Vickie.” She shushed me before tossing one of my French fries at me. I gawked at her and threw a fry at her which made her laugh.

“Backtracking away from my failed attempts at a love life, how are things going with yours?” she asked me.

“Great. Couldn’t be better.”

“You know I still sometimes can’t believe that you and Eddie Munson are a thing.” I shrugged.

“He’s really not so bad once you get to know him. We’re both nerds, enjoy music, and are basically all types of insanity wrapped up in a sack trying to survive in this fucked up world that is high school.”

“One thing though, your music tastes are way beyond being the same thing.”

“True. He tries to get me over to the dark side but I refuse. Sorry but his metal taste in music sucks.”

“Which surprises me that you both have stayed together for a year.”

“Oh trust me Rob. We have our fights about it, not in public but they can get pretty nasty.”

“Oh by nasty you mean swapping spit with each other to try and make your points across.”

“We do not swap spit. He tries to give me hickeys.”

“Same thing.” I shoved her arm as I stuffed some fries into my mouth.

“You know, instead of hassling me about my love life, why don’t I help you with yours?”

“God I swear you’re worse than Steve.” I grinned.

“Come on songbird, you know I care about you right? Band geeks in diapers remember?”

“Yeah, yeah nightingale. Band geeks in diapers.” Since Robin and I had been besties since we were practically babies, we always called each other a type of bird (and since we both love music and been taking band since middle school together) she calls me Nightingale since they’re the most passionate singers in the bird realm, and I call her songbird cause of the way she always plays her instruments so beautifully.

“And hell I could be your wing-woman if you ever need me too. You know I could give a crap about what people say about me. They already rat on me for both being in band and for dating Eddie.”

“As much as one would appreciate that, I don’t want you to be looked at as the ‘freak of sexuality’. I’ll just…..find my own way. Besides Steve and I are hoping to combine our failed relationships together to hopefully find the right match for us. I need his confidence and he needs my perfect perception on what he wants.”

“I’m not gonna voice out on what I think on what that love child is gonna look like.” She shoved me as I chuckled. “Kidding! Kidding. Hey speaking of that lovable dingus, could you tell him to stop stalking me and Eddie on our dates?”

“Oh god, what’d he do now?” she whined.

“He came into the diner, in probably the worst disguise ever. Fake mustache and everything, even tried to pull off the worst Irish accent I’d ever heard.”

“Are you serious?”

“Robin. He told me pip-pip da-doodley-do.” She cringed but also laughed. “I swear Steve’s a sweetheart, especially after what we went through with the—you know Russians. But sometimes he can be such a—”

“Overbearing dumbass? Yeah I totally get it. He’s the same with me. But I’ll talk to him, get him to lay off before your next outing with your man.”

“Thanks Robin, I owe yah.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She said with an evil, cunning grin. I shook my head at her and went back to listening to Raiders for the remainder of lunch.

Once school was over, I walked towards the isolated picnic table deep within the woods in the back of the school. I had traded out Raiders of the Lost Ark for Empire strikes back and I fast forward the mixtape until I knew it would lay in (what I would also call mine and Eddie’s love theme) ‘Han Solo and the Princess’.

I sat along the table waiting patiently as I allowed the gently intro of the love theme take me away. It wasn’t until the horns started playing when I felt two hands cover my eyes and my right headphone was removed.

“You really shouldn’t leave yourself vulnerable like this. You never know what kind of dangers lurk in these woods.” Eddie’s voice whispered teasingly in my ear. I giggled and turned to face him as his hands removed themselves from my eyes.

“Oh really? And what kind of scoundrels should I be on the lookout for?”

“Scoundrel?” he said in mock offense as he took my hand in both of his gently squeezing it (much like Han did with Leia in Empire). “Scoundrel?” he repeated with a smirk. “I like the sound of that.” In timing with the music I could feel my heart fluttering hard against my chest and my breath nearly being taken away.

“Stop that.” I couldn’t help myself but say. Thankfully Eddie and I share the same love for quoting films at each other as he said.

“Stop what?”

“Stop that. My hands are dirty.”

“My hands are dirty too, what are you afraid of?” Eddie said squeezing my hand once more, even giving it a soft massage (it felt twice as good since my last class was English and we had to write an essay for the whole class before turning it in).

“Afraid?” I asked incredulously.

“You’re trembling.” He said slowly leaning closer and closer towards me.

“I’m not trembling.” Eddie gave his infamous grin as his forehead pressed against mine, and I could feel his curls gently brush and tickle across my face.

“You like me because I’m a scoundrel. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.” He teased as his nose brushed against mine.

“I happen to like nice men.” I teased.

“I’m a nice man.” Inch by inch his lips brushed against mine until I leaned forward and kissed him right as the music reached it’s brief crescendo before decrescendo-ing to the part where 3PO basically cockblocks their moment.

Eddie reached over for my Walkman and stopped the tape but never once separated our lips until the need for air took over us both. Our foreheads pressed together and I couldn’t help but say.

“That just made it ten times better.”

“And what song were you playing this time?”

“Our song.”

“Ahh. Han Solo and the Princess.”

“Yep. Although today was mostly Raiders but I figured I’d test this moment out with our song. See if we could make the kiss feel even more—thrilling.”

“And did it?” he said pulling me into his lap.

“Along with quoting the scene in perfect timing with the music, kissing you already feels like I’m on an all-time high. But with our song—Eddie I saw the entire galaxy.” I said wrapping my arms around his neck so that I could brush my fingers through those soft curly locks.

“God you are such a cheesy poet.” He chuckled.

“Look who’s talking Mr. ‘My heart beats faster than Gareth’s suckish drumming everytime I look at you’.” He covered my mouth with his hand.

“You know I have a reputation. If anyone hears you say that, I’ll…..”

“Be labeled as the school’s softie? You know that’s what you’ll always be to me Eddie-bear.” He lowered his head bashfully as he groaned in embarrassment.

“That nickname again.”

“Yes that nickname. Now c’mon let’s go. I’m making mac and cheese tonight.”

“With those homemade biscuits of yours?”

“Don’t I always make them with mac and cheese?” I stood up and Eddie followed right behind me like a puppy as the two of us headed for his van and he drove us to my house.

Since my parents were away on a business trip all the way in Dublin, Ireland, that left me to handle the house (which also meant free sleepovers between Eddie and I). He always preferred coming here, even though I don’t mind going over to his uncle’s trailer.

“But in all seriousness, you have got to admit that you at least liked Metallica. If not Shout at the Devil.” He said as he stuffed the last bit of my homemade biscuit into his mouth.

“Eddie, I’m not denying anything it’s just that—there’s more to music than just heavy head bangers and lyrics being screamed so loud and rasply that you can’t understand what they’re saying.” I said going through my records of all my favorite movie soundtracks.

“Alright, alright I’ll admit doing the covers of some of those screaming metal songs is hard on my voice. But you can’t deny a good head-banger.”

“The last time I head-banged to Bohemian Rhapsody, I hit my head on the counter in Robin’s living room and ended up with 6 stitches in my head.” I said rubbing my right temple where the scar was hidden underneath my wildly, untamed hair.

“Aww my poor baby.” He cooed as he brought me in a one arm hugged, removed my hand and replaced it with his lips. “Guess that means no more Queen music for you.”

“Oh I still listen to them. Can’t deny they’ve basically changed the way music is. Plus the first ever band to do a music video that basically sparked MTV, fuck yeah. But in all honesty, there’s something about the pure beauty and raw emotion that program music has.”

“Program music?” he asked confused.

“That’s what my uncle calls it. You know the one who plays for the London Symphony.”

“Is that the same uncle who you say actually got to record for films like Star Wars, Superman and ET?”

“Don’t forget JAWS and Raiders.”

“Right how can I forget that? And what instrument did you say he played again?”

“The French Horn. Remember I told you he’s the one who actually plays that solo for the Binary sunset in A New Hope.”

“Oh yeah that’s right. Damn you’ve got such a metal uncle.”

“Hey Wayne’s a pretty cool dude. At least he’s kept you on the straight and narrow.”

“True. Been more of a dad to me than my old man ever was. Though I wish he would’ve been those uncles you’d allow me to have my first beer at 16. Still did it anyways but you know.”

“Edward Munson you are the devil incarnate.”

“Oh yeah?” he hummed as he smirked at me mischievously. Suddenly I felt him come up behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist and I heard him growl in my ear, “Well if I’m the Devil, you are my Lilith.” He let out a playful roar as he suddenly threw us backwards on my bed, the weight of the two of us making us slightly bounce as he kept a firmer grip around my waist.

He then buried his face into my neck and altered between gently nipping the skin, or just being straight up mean as he blew raspberries into the sensitive parts of my neck making it tickle.

“No tickling. No tickling!” I said trying to scrunch my neck to protect myself.

“Oh if it’s tickling you want,” I soon felt his fingers dig into my sides as I let out a shriek of laughter.

“Eddie plhehehease!” I screamed in laughter before he finally stopped and rolled me over till I was on my side and the two of us were facing each other.

“Never change, my beautiful, beautiful (Y/n).” he said stroking the hair out of my face.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He softly grinned before bopping my nose which made me softly giggle before he leaned in and kissed the tip of it.

“So, care to give me a…whatcha call it uhh—Program music? Yeah program music education?”

“Are you for real?”

“Well figured I’ve stuffed you with pretty much every one of my favorite metal bands, think it’s about time I learn a little about your music taste. So long as you don’t give me any of those old dudes from like the dinosaur age.”

“Eddie, Bach and Beethoven didn’t exist in the dinosaur age.”

“Well you know what I mean.”

“Darn there goes my first lesson then.” We both chuckled as he playfully ruffled my head but I got out of his grip before returning to my vinyl records and started to search for the first album I could introduce him to.

I pulled it out of the case and went over to my record player and set the record up before turning it on.

“So what’s first on the music appreciation list Ms. (L/n)?” Eddie said as he sat up on my bed.

“The first ever summer blockbuster.” The record started to spin and all was silent before the haunting two notes came up.

DUN-DUN…….DUN-DUN.

“JAWS?” he guessed.

“I’ll tell yah, first time I saw this movie, couldn’t sleep for a month and literally threw a temper tantrum begging my parents not to take me to the beach. Not to mention that besides television, this would be the spark that would launch John William’s career as a composer. And that it only took two notes to instill true terror, the like of which Freddy Krueger nor Michael Myers could never pull.” I said the last part in a haunting tone as I came up to him and sat on his lap.

As the music got faster as I spoke, I could already see the terror in Eddie’s eyes.

“Jesus……you’re already starting to scare me.”

“Good. That’s the power of music like this. Now close your eyes.” He looked at me skeptically but with a raised brow from me, he did as he was told. “Imagine: you’re out in the middle of a large body of water. But you’re not on any boat, nor canoe, not even a wooden plank to float on. Blissfully unaware of what lurks just beneath you. But it slowly, silently gets closer….and closer….and closer until…..” when the tightening of the strings pierced my empty room I saw Eddie give a flinch.

He was seeing it!

“It has you by the leg. You feel yourself being pulled across the water. Pain and fear succumbs your very being as your screaming, begging for your life to be spared. The water around you erupting into frantic splashing as your body is being thrashed around like a ragdoll. Your screams piercing the air but there’s no one in sight to save you. Then all is still.” As the music went still I paused for dramatic effect. “You think it’s heard your pleas and let you go. But then you feel it’s grip on you again, pulling your body once more. Your screaming resumes but you know it will only fall on deaf ears. Then with a final cry, you’re finally pulled under the water. The water now starts to still, and all is quiet.”

As the gently yet frantic sounds of the xylophone plays in the background signaling that the horrific scene had ended and all was back to normal. Like nothing had happened.

“Jesus H Christ. Can I open my eyes now?”

“Yes you can open them.” He opened his eyes and looked straight at me. “I should have you sub for me as DM with the way you just described that horrifying scene. And I know you haven’t seen that movie in a while to remember exactly what happened.”

“Told you. That’s the power of program music. It don’t have to match the scene word by word that it’s shown in the films. Or like with normal music how a lyric distracts the listener from the actual rhythm and melody being played. It can be erratic, moving, heartbreaking, and it’ll fit the scene of life itself.”

“Damn. You are a music philosopher.”

“Well I wouldn’t say that. My uncle just knows how to read music’s emotions and he taught me what he knows.”

“You got anything else?”

“Tons. Care to see why I think the Superman theme song is like the greatest opening to ever exist?”

“Compared to Star Wars?! Oh babe we’re gonna have another fight if you say that again.”

“You wanna debate, let’s debate. Star Wars opening theme is great, no denying that. But Superman’s theme song actually says its name.”

“When does it say that? I’ve seen that film enough times and I don’t hear anybody singing ‘Superman!’” he argued. I stood up and turned my record player off and took the JAWS record out and began to search for my Superman tape. I walked over to my stereo and turned it on and opened the slot and put the tape in before closing it and pressed play.

“Prepare to eat your words Munson.” I challenged as the opening started off soft.

“Not until you eat your own (L/n).” the suspense of the tuba soon began as I turned my stereo up as loud as I could and tapped along to the steady beats of the horns and strings as it began to build the suspense of Superman’s arrival.

“Okay, here it comes…..it’s coming…..is it a bird? Is it a plane? No it’s……SUPERMAN!!” right on cue the high suspense the whole orchestra went into full forte as the theme song actually said SUPERMAN

“HA! See I told you it didn’t say it!” Eddie exclaimed.

“It so did listen to it again!” I exclaimed as the orchestra repeated the superman part once again.

“You’re in denial sweetheart. I still don’t hear it.”

“God all that heavy metal has made you go deaf.”

“What was that missy!?!? I couldn’t hear yah!!” he shouted in my ear as he rubbed his own with his finger, trying to rub away the ‘deafness’. I shoved him away but he soon caught my hand then lifted me as high as he could as he spun me around.

“Eddie put me down yah big oaf!” I laughed as I exclaimed. He laughed as he continued to spin me around my entire room before falling down to my bed once again with me hovering over him. Our laughter mixed together as the song continued to play in the background. “You are such a dork.”

“Your dork. But hey wouldn’t that count Superman a dork? He does work for the Daily Planet and wears those ugly glasses.”

“True but Christopher Reeves made them work.”

“Do I sense competition in the midst of my lady’s affections?”

“Only in a dream. But never fear good sir knight, you are the only man who has my heart.” I said as I rubbed over his heart.

“Good. Cause I don’t think I would last in a fight with Superman.” We both laughed and I said.

“I don’t think any of us could. Besides his heart belongs to Lois Lane. I could never compete with her.”

“In my opinion, you’re prettier than Lois Lane.”

“Aww Eddie you sweet-talker.” I leaned forward and captured his lips with mine right as the song came to an end.

We continued on with the Superman tape until the flying sequence came about I had to speak my mind.

“Now I both love and hate this song from the track.”

“Oh really? Why’s that?” Eddie asked as he wrapped his arm around me pulling me closer.

“Well not only because of how they shot it after he takes her into the air with the whole physics about how he holds her hand and they’re both flying together normally. But the stupid monologue Lois says during the music. It just—doesn’t fit well. In my mind, I imagined Superman holding her fairly close.”

“You mean like this?” Eddie said as he wrapped his other arm around me.

“Yes. Then we’d just—see them flying together. The music itself is beautiful on its own but her fucking monologue drones it out completely on film. For me personally, there are some scenes in film where we should just— let the music speak for itself. The fascination she already has for Superman, the closeness of their bodies pressed together. The lingering looks they share with one another as he takes her higher and higher into the sky. That’s why I’ll always pick the Binary Sunset over this song any day.”

“You’re not just saying that because your uncle has a solo in that song.”

“No. You know how we’re introduced to Luke right?” he nodded. “The Binary sunset, it—it allows us to also feel exactly what Luke feels. The longing, the desperation, the need, hope and the dream to have something far beyond our reach like the sun.”

“Damn you are really getting deep here babe. How did we ever work out?”

“We work out because you’re funny, you’re sweet, loyal to your friends, a good mentor to the present and future members of Hellfire. And you’ve got such an imagination that could only rival mine. Plus you’re the only guy whose accepted me for my own unique nerdiness. Not even the guys in band would touch me with a ten foot pole.”

“Well those band geeks are blind to see the true goddess that’s before them. All those guys they’re just doing band to get an elective credit. You—you have a truly, fiery passion for the music you play. Long to play, and may eventually play. Can you imagine if they ever did bring Lord of the rings to life? I’m sure the music is gonna need a player with as much passion as you. And I’m gonna be right there cheering you on and listening for yah.”

“Thank Eddie, it really means a lot to me.” He smiled then leaned in and kissed me softly.

“You think we can quote Star Wars all the way through just listening to the scores?” he asked me.

“You really gotta ask that?” I stood up from my bed and switched the Superman tape for A New Hope. “One thing though, it doesn’t include the 20th Century Fox theme song.”

“Ahh the bastards!” he playfully groaned.

“So care to do the honors Ed?”

“Princess, it’d be my pleasure.” He then grabbed my own version of Brian May’s red special guitar, plugged it into my amp and turned it up as loud as he could. I then grabbed two pencils and began the drum roll of the company’s theme song before Eddie played the horns section on the electric guitar. Never before have I heard it be played on anything else but damn did he shred it and to use my guitar, it was pure poetry.

He unplugged my guitar and turned my amp off as we both said the title card introduction.

“A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away….” I pressed play and right on cue the full forte of the Orchestra played throughout my room. “Care to do the honors Dungeon Master?”

“As you wish my fair Princess.” He said before reading out the actual credit roll all the way through in his DM style of how he narrates his campaigns for his club. From there on, it was the two of us acting out the scenes based off the scores that played out.

We also couldn’t help ourselves with quoting the rest of the movie and right as we came up to my favorite part, I turned to my window balcony and saw that the sun was just about to set.

“Oh my god.”

“Uhh that’s not the quote that comes next babe.” Eddie said.

“No Eds look, the sun’s setting. Oh let’s pause this and you’ll see what I mean come on!” I turned to stereo towards the window and grabbed Eddie’s hand as we went out to my small little balcony and stared at the sunset together.

*Eddie’s POV*

As my girl dragged me to her makeshift balcony and the rays of the sunset landed upon her face, I could hear the sound of the flute starting off the most epic part of the song. Then as her uncle’s solo came into play, I immediately felt this—fluttery feeling in my stomach.

This angel nay this—goddess of music that stood at my side. She—she was my everything. My wants, my hopes, my dreams. Everything I wish to do, want to do I—I want her to be there at my side. As the orchestra rose in volume, there was this wave of—god I can’t even describe it.

All I did know was that I never once took my eyes off of (Y/n) for a second as my heart swelled and I could feel my chest constricting with whatever this emotion I was feeling.

“….d? Ed? Eddie.” I snapped out of my trance and said.

“What? What was it?” (Y/n) only smiled and reached up to touch the corner of my eye. It was then I felt that I actually had tears in my eyes.

“You felt it too, didn’t you.” She said it as more of a statement than a question. I sniffled softly and nodded.

“That’s what you feel everytime?” she nodded. “God babe that…..that was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I felt—warm and…..god I can’t even describe it.”

“Music is the way of life. It’s all around us. Just like I’ve always said.” I cupped her face into my hands and asked her.

“I wanna feel it again. But this time with our song. Please sweetheart? I—I wanna feel it again, but this time as I kiss you.” God I’m sounding like such a sap right now but fuck it! This is a high I’ve never been on and I wanna feel what my girl feels every day she listens to these songs, especially how she described our kiss earlier today with our Star Wars love theme.

She placed her hands over mine and kissed my left palm before taking me back inside her room and switched out the tapes.

“Shall we quote the scene again?”

“I wanna try your theory of just letting the music speak for itself.” I answered. She nodded and pressed rewind and waited for a couple of seconds before pressing play to see if it was our song.

“Okay let’s just let this last section of Boba Fett play out and then nothing but silence.” She said as she came up and wrapped her arms around my neck and I wrapped mine around her waist pulling her close.

Soon the gentle melody of our love theme started playing over the speakers. As she gently brushed the hair out of my eyes I could already feel my heart racing faster than it’s ever gone before. There was a lump in my throat but for some strange reason it felt like the good kind of lump. Honestly I can’t explain it as beautifully as my musical goddess does, but all I can say was that I liked it. A lot. It wasn’t a sexual pull, but a truly, deep, love connection (much like Aragorn and Arwen).

I lifted my hands to gently cup her face. My thumbs gently stroking along where her cute dimples were hidden and I pressed my forehead against hers, our noses gently and affectionately nuzzling the other’s. We both soon leaned in and as the music got louder our lips met and I swear to god—it was like a firework just exploded in my gut.

We separated and (Y/n) reached over and turned off the stereo as the two of us softly panted.

“Shit……” I gasped out.

“What’s the verdict doc?” she asked.

“Best……high……ever.” I chuckled and she followed with soft laughter. “You were right. God that was—I know I always get butterflies in my stomach and my heart races every time I kiss you but with our song setting the mood…..holy shit.”

“Like I said. There’s more to music than just headbangers.”

“I’ll never question your wisdom again, my beautiful muse.” I said bringing her into yet another, more passionate kiss. We walked right towards her bed and she collapsed once more onto it, and I immediately crawled on top of her. “So what shall it be Princess? Want to make beautiful music of our own?”

“With most scoundrels I wouldn’t but for you, always.”

“I love you.”

“I know.” She said with a grin and a twinkle in her eye before wrapping her hand around the back of my neck and bringing me down to kiss her once more.

That’s a night I’ll never forget, I think out of all my shows I’ve performed, this one will always be my favorite. Because it was just me, my best girl, and the two of us making music with our bodies all night long.

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theobsessiveloser18 · 8 months

Text

Headcanons of being the best person in Robby's life

•It turns out that you were going back to your house with grocery bags and the stream flowed into you, not that serious, it just collided with you and you fell to the ground, and the bags spilled over, in short, all chaos

•He had the opportunity to keep running, he didn't, he decided to help you.

“I'm sorry, I didn't see you, are you alright ma'am?”Picked up and arranged the content that had come out of the bags

“Calm down kid, nothing serious, just try to look where you're running.” He gave a nervous laugh

“I'll keep that in mind” he was about to leave,But an angry man grabbed his arm and shook him.

“You won't get away with that sewer rat”

“Let me go I don't know”

“I will release you after you pay me or after the police come for you”

“Hey sir, let him go, what's wrong with him?”

“This brat robbed me” and I snatched a packet of chips from his hands

“In other words, you made such a fuss over a miserable bag of potatoes, suddenly they would have stolen the money from the box, but a bag of potatoes seriously, ¿how desperate does he have to be to chase and Insult a child for 3 dollars?”

“If it's so little that he pay”

“I will pay him” both men were quite surprised as you took out your bill

“And it's 7 dollars”

“Fine, have 10, it shows that you need” the boy laughed at your comment ,and the man left but not before saying goodbye to you with a cordial “bitch”

“Thanks, but I didn't have to”

“I don't think you would have robbed and run if you were just going to pay 2 minutes later” he ducked a little embarrassed

“It doesn't matter, you apologized and helped me picking up the bags, we're even, can you give me my packages? the sofa is waiting for me”

“oh yes i'm sorry”

“You apologize too much...Nice” You were about to leave but at that moment your ankle pain started to appear, curse yourself a bit for how inopportune it was

“Alright?”

“Yeah, I just sprained my ankle the other day, and you know, not all doctors believe that an abnormal lump is a sprain, and if they're not going to take your problems seriously, you don't have to. Seriously your recommendations” He laugh a little “This is good advice Can I help you with the purchases?” You have not been as surprised as now for a long time, normally you would not let an unknown teenager help you or talk to you, but what did it matter you did not want to load the purchases so you accepted

•When I get to your house I give you the purchases, it was the right time to say goodbye, but it was very hot, the way to your house was not short, and if you were sweating and you had only loaded a small amount of pesos, you got an idea of how tired he could be,

“Do you like lemonade?”

the teenager broke into your house, and even went to the trouble of organizing your purchases in the cabinets and fridge

“well, I'm officially being robbed, God willing I'm not something worse happened to me”

You ended up preparing a snack for him, and he left your house at 2 in the afternoon, it was quite a pleasant time, the only thing you regretted was not being able to wear a bra at home

•They met several times, and they spent time together, sometimes he would come to your house without warning and you had to put your plans aside because you weren't slamming the door in a guy's face What did that vine have?

"Calm down, think about what would happen when leaving the family home, if you had a younger brother with whom you get along well”

•Meet Daniel Larusso, your much-mentioned sensei, a nice man but you wanted to meet his daughter, if it meant Robby would stop talking about her in sleep

•It turns out that one day Robby ended up meeting your workplace,and he understood why you defended him when they met in your shovels

“Being a cashier in the United States sucks, and the most horrible part of having an arrogant bum as your boss who inherits daddy's business, is having to see how the humblest people mistreat youth for Follow the paths that they have assigned to you by forsaking them”

A somewhat confusing speech, but well he accepted it The point is that he knew where you worked and visits you several times a month,

“Y/N your son has arrived”

"Don't bother bald fool, hello lad" You gave him a kiss on the hair and he went for his chair

"Don't use family terms when he's here, he's going to be frustrated."

“Then stop treating him like your fucking son" a colleague stuck her nose in

"I can't treat him like a son because I don't know what it's like to have one" you refrained from yelling at him but the irritation was evident in your voice "At most I'll treat him like a little brother and I don't know what it's like to have one either"

•Your Coworkers don't trust him at all, the first thing they thought when he entered the store was that 'he was a punk who was a fan of the Joker', and that they would be lucky if he left without killing them.

“You shouldn't let him play so close to the cash register.”

"Tell her what you really mean, he shouldn't be here, he's putting our jobs at risk."

“I can't go back to court, not even to testify, the judge warned me"

"I thought we had made that part clear, he is in my charge, whatever breaks, dirty, steals, or hides comes out of my pocket"

“And hope she stops being a criminal, being her sugar mommy" commented the classmate you couldn't bear the least, you threw a magazine at her head, and surprisingly no one messed with you for the rest of the day

•Robby helps you at work when he visits, that lessened the mistrust of your colleagues a bit, but not entirely the gossips, idle, liar and unscrupulous continue to watch him, mean half of them to be more precise

•He met his father right in the store, it was chaotic, you had to intervene

"I understand that you have many personal problems but I don't want any crane kick here"

"Who the hell is she?"

“Y/N!”

"How could such a short answer answer my question"

"Look at our relationship, you don't have labels, it's a bit difficult to explain, but don't open your eyes like that, I'm not intimate with him, I'm not a degenerate"

"Y/N" Robby yelled at the laughter of his father who was turning red as a tom.

"I'm sorry, you know that I don't think before I speak, what a shame, what I want to tell you, sir, is that he and I have nothing to do with it, I literally changed his diapers...Is there a way he misconstrued that?

“There is but I think he got the point"

“Your friend it's too funny to be a girl” You looked at him with an expression that was too clownish, which didn't make it clear that you were offended and said in a humorous tone

“That was sexist, but hey we're laughing, the dispute is over right?

“No, it's at its peak" replied Robby trying to pounce on the man, you stopped him in time

"Stay there sprinter, I just said, no beatings at the venue, not in its surroundings if they want to shout at each other like hermits they will do it 17 kilometers away from here, and if you come back here, I don't want to see Signs that you have hit your father”

"In your dreams girl, I was a 2-time champion of Al Valley, he doesn't have a chance to hit me."

“that's going to look old”

"My God, the karate fighters are going to end my non-existent mental health, out now"

“your new mommy is heated”You and Robby made a real scandal,The man winked at you before leaving

“What's wrong with you dude?

•Much to Robby's dismay, you and his father started dating, as a defense on your behalf, it took a long time before the man was finally able to call your attention.

•But Robby was furious, he didn't want to know anything about the two of you, especially about you, when you finally managed to get him to talk to you, he exploded.

“I can't believe it Y/N of all the people in the world you decide to go out with You decide it's a good idea to flirt with him ”

“I understand that angry Robby but-

"You don't understand anything, you don't know him, he's a fucking coward, now everything could be fantastic for you, but at your happiest moment he will leave you, they are reasons without explanations, he just ran away Like a fucking Nazi traitor, and you'll be so disappointed you won't know you'll have nothing better to do than cry, get depressed, and get stuck in life.”

“Okay Robby you're saying too many words that I can't process"small tears threatened to come out of both their eyes "the one who talks a lot here is me, okay" you said with a sad laugh But it didn't have any effect on Robby, he just looked away trying to hold back his tears "You have no right to lecture me like you're my parents I know what I'm doing, I'm a 28-year-old adult who That she makes stupid decisions that sometimes destroy her, but that other times have resulted in wonderful opportunities, like meeting you."You said that last in a sweeter tone and Robby sobbed.At this rate you were already crying "and I hope that going out with your father is one of those, why doesn't it matter about us, okay, I'm not important, he will continue with his life, he will continue drinking, he will continue Wishing to go back to the 80s to try to improve what has already been done, and will continue to fight for no reason, but in the midst of all that He will keep trying with you because he cares about you... he cares a lot about you, more than your mother, more than the dojo, more than Miguel, more than me, more than you think And even if you hate him and he is tired of trying to get people to reject him, he is not giving up on you, because you are his son and he is not doing this for me, nor because I am inspired or encouraged, it is What he's always wanted to do, and he's confident he can do it now, and I think he'll do it, okay?" You wiped away your tears and started to smile "he'll do it and it'll be wonderful, and they'll do all the things that That a father and children do, they will watch TV together, they will have breakfast, he will show you photos of when he was young, you will have uncomfortable talks about sex “y/n enough” "It's going to be like this Robby, trust me, well you can't do it I understand" "No Y/N will not happen" he shook his head and works to appear calm now that the sob had disappeared and red eyes appeared in its place "It will happen, because no one can stop a man who grew up with the motivation of Rocky Balboa acting in a porn movie"both laughed you dried your tears“Seriously, Robby, better times are coming, and this shouldn't change things for you, because even if your dad and I break up tomorrow or I tie him up in a rope and make him marry me, I will never make you On the one hand, you are very important to me, more than him, lately more than anyone I knowThe boy rushed to hug you more tightly than a person would use for a hug, but in a way it means peace.

Peace had been

"You've never been good at being serious, have you?" you laughed with traces Tears on your face, you clung more to his back

You know me well”

The I finish and Johnny came to the living room eating the burritos That Carmen had given him

“Problems?” He asked with his mouth full, they both looked at him disgusted.

“If what she is too cool to date you” “thank you” replied Johnny as if nothing you and the boy exchanged confused glances for a few seconds before laughing as if there was no tomorrow

Johnny smiled satisfied things were going to be better

#robby keene headcanons #robby keene #cobra kai imagine #seasons cobra kai

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silverhallow · 11 months

Text

Night terror

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett

Phoenix Rising AU

For @ambitionspassionscoffee

Rated: T- PTSD/Nightmares/Parent death/Sleepwalking/Night Terrors

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: When the night terrors come for you, having a Prince Charming nearby can make it all the easier to cope. Sophie’s stuck in a nightmare after a day in court, the day before she has to relive the worst years of her life.

Author's Note: Set during From the Ashes Chapter 19. Angsty with a fluffy ending.

Enjoy

Trauma has different ways of showing up in a person, PTSD never really went away, scars may fade in time, but the emotional damage that would fade eventually.

His phoenix may have found her voice again but the week before the trial, Benedict watched as his beautiful girl retreated back into herself, the nightmares started again and he was struggling to wake her from them.

She’d thrash and scream and beg for them to kill her, just end her life there and then.

It was hell watching her, stuck in the torment that she had been unable to escape for so many years, the torment that she was having to relive.

For a time the nightmares stopped, they went away. She’d released her article and she felt comfort, she’d found her voice back and she was powering through. She’d worked on her exams, got her results and was building herself back up but now… it felt like they’d taken steps backwards.

Lucy had warned him that this could happen.

At the prospect of facing their tormentor, victims can often regress backwards and get stuck in their nightmares but all he could do was hold her, talk to her and hope that his voice would carry through into the terrors…

It broke Benedict’s heart whenever he saw her trapped in one of these nightmares, he vowed that Araminta could spend the rest of her life in jail, rotting and ruined and it would still not be enough.

No punishment would ever be enough for she’d put Sophie through.

As the trial started, she was sleeping less and less and Benedict was worried about her, but the night before she was due to give evidence, she’d passed out in the car on the way home from Court and he’d hoped that she’d sleep all the way through to the following morning, the exhaustion for the last few days and the news that she’d gotten would have drained her of the last of her energy so that she would not move until the following morning.

The news that her father had filed for Divorce from Araminta had shook her to her core, she hadn’t expected it, she’d known he was going to do something to make it right after he’d seen her being dragged around by her hair but it had broken her heart to know that her father had still loved her. He’d not meant for her to be left in the life she was left to…

Araminta had stolen so much from her over the years, her whole childhood had been robbed as she’d been forced to work, forced to wait on her hand and foot, work through the pain of a fractured skull, ribs and kidneys, not having a broken arm tended to…

Her growth had been stunted because of her lack of nourishment and she was deficient in nearly every vitamin that her body needed to function properly…

Benedict had put her to bed as soon as they had gotten in, the rain was coming down heavily as he was getting himself ready for bed that night and he just hoped for an uninterrupted night sleep but as he went into the bedroom, he noticed it was empty.

Sophie wasn’t there, he hadn’t heard her getting out of bed, she wasn’t in the bathroom and nor was she in the ensuite, the door was open and as he popped his head in to make sure she wasn’t in the dark but there was nothing.

“Sophie? Sweetheart?” he called out, wondering if she’d reply and wondering where the hell she was.

He moved quickly around his house looking for his girlfriend, terror and panic coursing through his veins as he tried to find her, but it was only when he felt a cold breeze as he made his way down to the dining room that he turned around and saw the back door open.

The rain was hammering down and as he got closer to the door, he could see her. Standing there in the rain, not moving, bare foot, still in the clothes he’d put her in for bed but they were soaking wet, every part of her body was dripping wet.

“Sophie! Come in! You’re soaked!” he called from the door but she didn’t move. She didn’t even flinch, there was nothing. The thunder cracked and the lightning flashed and she didn’t even flinch and he knew something was wrong.

She was trapped in her dreams again, this time she was sleepwalking and he was entirely grateful that he had an enclosed back garden as god knows where she would have wandered off to if not.

He grabbed a coat, tossed some towels by the back door and grabbed an umbrella and made his way outside. Being careful, he didn’t want to spook her. He knew from experience with Eloise and her sleepwalking that you had to be careful not to disturb someone who was trapped in a dream, sleepwalking through it; to do so could have disastrous consequences if not handled carefully.

He walked slowly up to her, “Sophie, sweetheart?” he whispered, hoping his voice would carry through the rain, get into her stuck brain and bring her back to him like it usually did.

But she didn’t move. He carefully reached out and touched her, she didn’t move, no reaction but she was as cold as ice, her skin was going white and almost translucent in the rain and fear filled him. “Sophie, darling…?”

Finally she reacted she turned and faced him, her eyes were open but there was nothing there, no reaction, no recognition “Papa?” she whispered, her voice sounded young.

“Sophie” Benedict said “it’s Ben… come back to me darling” he said carefully but Sophie still didn’t see, her voice broke as she collapsed to the floor, her legs going and she was so cold and wet that Benedict wasn’t able to stop her from falling to the floor

“No Papa, come back!!! No!!!!” she screamed, she grabbed at the ground, shaking what she could “Papa!!! Don’t go!”

Benedict had no idea what Sophie was seeing, but he assumed it was the death of her father, his heart attack that she’d witnessed.

He’d heard from Anthony that Kate had gone through something similar, how she went through it when it had stormed when they had first gotten together, she’d witnessed her mother dying in a car accident and she’d relived the entire event.

Benedict crouched down over her, holding the umbrella to protect her from the rain as she pounded and begged an invisible force not to leave her alone, not to go, to stay with her as she sobbed and cried and each wail broke his heart.

“It’s okay, I'm not going anywhere, I'm here Soph… i’m here” he said over and over as he tried to get to hear him, but eventually she must have exhausted herself as he noticed she’d gone silent, her breathing petered out and nothing but quiet whimpers he carefully scooped her into his arms and carried her back into the house, being careful not to jostle her.

She was cold to the bone, he’d taken food out of the freezer that had been warmer than her skin and he knew she’d need to warm up before bed, before she had to face tomorrow.

Wrapping her in a towel he placed her on the chair in their room, he ran to the bathroom and set the bath off, ensuring it was hot water coming from the tap before he put the plug in and let it fill.

He went back into the room and he could see Sophie’s eyes coming back into focus, the dull light in the green as she shivered “B…b…ben?”

“Shhhh it’s okay, i’ve got you. You’re safe” he said, kneeling in front of her and pressing a kiss to her freezing cold temple.

“C…c…cold” she shivered.

“It’s okay i’ve got the bath running, we’ll get you warm okay, just a couple of minutes sweetheart” he said.

Sophie nodded, “i’m so tired Ben” she whispered, her eyes dropping.

“I know darling, i’ll get you in the bath and you can sleep okay, I’ll get you warm and cleaned up” he replied as he got up and checked to ensure the bath was ready before coming back, carefully peeling the clothes from her body and tossing them into the laundry pile, before removing his own, he was cold and wet from the rain but he figured he could wash her more easily sitting behind her.

He scooped her into his arms, and gently lowered them both into the bath, he felt Sophie’s entire body relax into him as she hit the warm water.

“Mmm sorry” she slurred slightly as Benedict started to pour the warm water over her body.

“You never need to apologise to me Sophie, we’re a team. I’ll be here always for you, nightmares or not… i’m going nowhere okay” he said pressing her wet head “I love you Soph. no matter what”

“Love you too” she mumbled as he started to wash her hair.

He hoped this time when she fell back asleep, there would be no nightmares, no more sleep walking, he hated that she was going through all this but he knew without a shadow of a doubt he would be there by her side until death do them part.

#ash’s angsty drabbles #bridgerton #benophie #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #benedict x sophie #Phoenix rising au #from the ashes

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thekingjadechronicles · 2 years

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Trials of a Domme

I got lucky through Sunny. He was a good teacher who didn’t make me get it out the mud.

Sunny was the twin flame that flashed into Charlie's life--mildly toxic and deeply loved. Their instant connection made sense, him being an impulsive and open-minded Aries and her being a curious and daring Scorpio. He'd met her daily contemplations, theories, and introspections with: “Let’s find out”, “Do it and see”, and “I have an idea.” Together, they were chaotic in their adventurous experiments.

“This was a bad idea,” Charlie whispered as they walked through the empty darkened museum shining phone flashlights on the exhibits. Sunny saw something in here once that he wanted and they were going to take it.

“You’re the one who wondered if you could,” Sunny whispered back. He was the self-proclaimed king of B&E’s and Charlie swore it was simple having read a Wikihow.

“You were supposed to talk me out of it, not drive me. What if we get caught and I lose my scholarship?”

“Well.. Now we both know you can. I give it a 7 out of 10. Could’ve been quicker.”

“Gimme a break, it’s my first time! See, bad influence.”

“You sound like Miranda. Babe, this is the prime time to explore, do things you’ve never done. Like rob a museum. Small-scale.”

“My mama would kick my ass..,” Charlie mumbled. This wasn’t what Lupe taught her. As for Miranda, she was tired of hearing about delinquent stunts with Sunny. Sunny had a car. Sunny had a lil money. Sunny could fight and break into anything. Sunny was funny. Sunny had cool hair, piercings, and tats. Sunny Sunny Sunny. Charlie was having fun. As much as she protested, she felt a thrill of excitement and anarchy anytime they did something this risky to prove one of her points or see what would happen. She felt like a mad social scientist. She was learning new things about herself everyday with Sunny. She could break locks, bust windows, talk her way in and out of anything, hold in weed smoke, fire a gun somewhat accurately, perform a successful spinning kick, and biggest of all–she could handle two fingers while being fingered. It felt good. Sunny was a safe base of personal exploration and he had so many experiences of his own at 21 years of age. “Swear we won’t get caught.”

“You worry too much,” he said just before a flashlight shined on them.

“Hey! Stay right there,” the guard shouted as they ran with Charlie being pulled roughly by the wrist to move faster. He could’ve got away twice on his own if he’d wanted to. He wouldn’t run off and leave her, but she almost tripped and twisted her ankle trying to avoid having her arm ripped off by Sunny’s grip. She learned then that she couldn’t do all the things Sunny did no matter how many Wikis she read.

“Sunny we need to talk,” Charlie started out the gate when she made it back to her dorm. She’d been too hopped up on adrenaline to speak before.

“I know. No more adventures for you.”

“Sunny, that can’t happen ag– What?!”

“That one was too close. You can’t afford the risk.”

“That’s my line.”

“Look.. We can still hang out, fuck around, but you’re cut off from experiments. You almost got me caught,” he whispers. “I’ll call you. Stay boring.”

Charlie glared as he drove off. She made it back to her room where Miranda sat waiting up like a worried parent, staring with judgment. “Fuck off,” Charlie sighed, “Adventures are done. We almost got caught tonight so it’s over.”

“About time. All the shit to be and you choose to be a criminal.”

“GOODNIGHT,” Charlie sang in irritation as she slipped into her bed. Doing hoodrat shit with Sunny was fun. He’d stolen half of the furnishings in his apartment, his place was nice. He even had a soda machine. It was better than the basic career she’d chosen. Counseling? The passion was there, but where was the excitement? She went to sleep thinking of what to do to bring the excitement in because she wasn’t content.

Her focus on step intensified and her energy was poured out in routines and shows while she spent her extra time in books, no longer partying, but reading all about the different avenues a career can take in psychology. She needed options that weren’t so bland. She didn’t want to be a school therapist like many of her peers. She could be a psychiatrist. She could learn hypnotherapy. She could create her own thing.

She graduated unsure of the path she’d take but with a job that paid a good starting wage, especially for a 20 year-old. Unfortunately, she was working in an elementary school. Lupe and the aunties helped her get an apartment of her own and Miranda continued in school, set to graduate the following year.

All that year, Charlie worked knowing kids were not her forte. The snot, the vomit, the hallway smells of pee. “Nope,” she whispered, turning in the hall when she saw a wayward child coughing. Sunny found her stories hilarious. “I’m five seconds from working at Target with you,” Charlie said, only half serious. Again, Sunny laughed.

“It’s probably time to tell you,” he said from her couch. She walked back from her bathroom naked with hair dripping, and questioning. “I don’t just work at Target,” he said. She used her towel to stamp out some of the water from her hair.

“You steal, I know.”

“No, well.. Yeah. But, I’m a professional dom. That’s my job. I work at Target for the w-2.”

“No you’re not,” Charlie laughed thinking it was a joke, but the more she said no and he responded with yes, she knew he was serious. “You are..,” she stared and it clicked that she suddenly had another avenue to explore, if he would guide her. “Teach me,” she insisted, arguing him down. She could talk her way into anything after all, she’d learned that due to Sunny himself.

“It’s not that easy.”

“I don’t care,” Charlie whispered in his ear, his strong jaw in her grip as she began nibbling on his ear. She could feel him keeping his composure along with his hands to himself. "Don't," he whispered as she straddled him. "I want to learn and you’re going to teach me," she replied with another bite. His responding growl went through her body like a spark, the deepness of it nearly scaring her off. “Get up," he shoved. "I can’t think.”

Charlie fell into the seat beside him covering up with her throw while he gathered himself and his thoughts. He stood then, staring down at her with his hand under his chin, focused.

“This is sex work.”

“I-,” she paused, quieting when his hand raised. A sign to pay attention.

“To be a requested dom or in your case domme is to be a sex worker. We fulfill a service so the client is in control, correct?”

“Correct.”

“No. The dom is in control. It's a power exchange. It'll push your level of comfort and that's why you’ll need boundaries. We call these limits, things you can't be convinced into. Once it's a hard limit it's not to be brought up again, understood?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, Master Stormy. When I’m teaching you, use my title to show me the proper respect.”

“Yes, Master Stormy,” Charlie stared up with a smirk.

“Your homework from me for the week is to find your limits. Do your research, write it in a journal and call me Friday night. I gotta go,” he looked at his watch. “I booked a session for 7.”

“People?!”

“7 PM girl, damn.”

Charlie wanted to go, but she couldn’t get in the way. Besides, she now had something completely new and exciting to study and explore.

#the kompound multiverse #the kompound reboot #charlie jade #thekingjadechronicles

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crackspinewornpages · 2 years

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Les Misérables 30/365 -Victor Hugo

“It is necessary that society should look at those things, because it is itself which creates them.”p.67 Valjean was ignorant but no fool, he was not innocent or unjustly punished, it was an act of madness. Then, wondered if he was the only one in history at fault, if he, a laborer, should lack bread and excess of weights on the scales of justice. Should society have a right to have members suffer equally for its own lack of foresight, a poor man between a default of work and excess of punishment. (Hugo coming early with the socio-economic crime commentary) Was it outrageous for society to treat those least endowed consequently the most deserving of consideration. He judged society and condemned it to hatred.

Society had only harmed him, not since his mother and sister had he encountered a friendly word or touch. He was educated in the galleys to fortify his hate. “In certain cases, education and enlightenment can serve to eke out evil.”p.68 After judging society he also judged Providence and condemned it too. After nineteen years darkness overtook light, though Valjean wasn’t evil in nature. Can human nature change by fate and circumstance. Those can transform a man little by little into a beast, sometimes into a ferocious one, Valjean’s escape attempts are proof and the recaptures made him wilder with his excess strength.

He was conscious of something monstrous resting on him, accumulating, laws, prejudices, deeds, in a pyramid called civilization. They were over his head crushing him and he thought of this, how everything that happened to him was absurd. Those nineteen years molded Valjean to act two evil actions of unpremeditated instinct and evil actions of premeditated seriousness. (yeah prisons don’t reform just turn troubled people into worse animals) It passed through three phases of reasoning, will and perseverance, habitual wrath and hatred of society, the human race and creation, a desire to do harm and so Valjean’s passport described him as a dangerous man. He hasn’t cried in nineteen years, his soul gradually dried away.

A drowning man isn't heard in a storm and in exhaustion gives up. “Oh, implacable march of human societies! Oh, losses of men and of souls on the way! Ocean into which falls all that the law let slip! Disastrous absence of help! Oh, moral death!”p.72 The soul in the waters may become a corpse, but who shall save it.

When Valjean heard he was being released from the galleys a light penetrated him and believed he had a chance at a new life. Then filled with bitterness as his pay was reduced and he felt robbed. He tried to find work but when people read his passport, he was underpaid and sent off. Society robbed him wholesale now he was being robbed retail. “Liberation is not deliverance. One gets free from the galleys, but not from the sentence.”p.73 (see how convicted felons aren’t allowed certain jobs and not allowed to vote)

Valjean woke at two and couldn’t go back to sleep so he thought and one was prevalent to the silverware. He thought of them and slowly made up his mind. He took an iron candlestick and went to the Bishop’s room, he hadn't closed his door.

He pushed it open wider and entered the room and went near the bed. The Bishop was asleep with a divine radiance and Valjean hesitated before stealing the silverware and flees out the window. (yeah he was about to beat him to death)

The next morning Myriel was in his garden and Magloire asked if he knew the silverware was missing, yes. (she asked if he’s seen the silverware basket and he was like right here in the garden) Magloire freaks over it being stolen and Myriel asks if the silver was theirs in the first place, it belonged to the poor, they’ll eat with wooden cutlery.

At breakfast Magloire spoke about how it was fortunate they were only robbed. Then there was a knock on the door as three gendarmes (an armed police officer so regular police) dragged Valjean inside. The Bishop, unfazed told Valjean he had given him the candlesticks too, why didn’t he take them and told the gendarmes it was a mistake to accost him like a thief and to release him. Myriel hands the candlesticks to Valjean and tells him when he returns to use the street door, it’s never locked. “Do not forget, never forget, that you have promised to use this money in becoming an honest man.”p.78 Valjean doesn’t remember making such a promise, Myriel says he bought his soul and gave it to God.

Valjean left the town, wandering all morning, prey of novel sensations, felt rage to an unknown person, was he touched or humiliated and felt the calm of his injustice leave him, what would replace it. Sitting at a bush he watched a Savoyard (a inhabitant of Savoy) come by and drop a coin that rolled up to Valjean and he demands his money back. Valjean chases him off and after realizes what he did and calls out to the boy, Gervais, but he’s long gone.

He looks around asking people if they’ve seen him but no one has. His legs eventually give way and felt overwhelmed with an evil conscience and for the first time in twenty years he cried. His struggle of conquer of be conquered was now between his viciousness and goodness of the Bishop. If he worked to be good, he must be an angel and if he remained evil, a monster.

Once leaving the galleys the Bishop hurt his soul as light would the eyes used to darkness. He wasn’t the same man, why did he rob a child, the last of the effect of the galleys. He’s horrified by Jean Valjean, the Bishop was his conscience and he cried for a long time. Daylight penetrated his soul and he examined his life, where did he go after that no one knows but that night a man was seen praying at the Bishop’s door.

BOOK THIRD IN THE YEAR 1817

1817 Louis XVIII was in year twenty-two of his reign when M. Bruguire was celebrated. Napoleon was at St. Helena there were still Prussians in France. The bridge of Austerlitz abdicated and entitled the bridge of King’s Garden. The Council of Ministers questioned if Franconi’s posters that attracted street urchins should be tolerated. All people agreed the era of revolution was forever closed by King Louis XVIII. (laughs in 2022)

Cardinal Fesch refused to resign, the Archbishop of Amasie administered the diocese of Lyons, Switzerland and France fought over the Valley of Dappes. A steamboat went down the Sienne as Lord Byron was making his mark. Dupuytren and Recamie fought over the divinity of Christ and Cuvier tried to connect fossils to the Great Flood. (I’m sure all this information is useful for those that lived in the region or at this time but as a 2022 American I have no idea who half these people are)

There are no trivial facts in humanity, “This is what floats up confusedly, pell-mell, for the year 1817, and is now forgotten. History neglects nearly all these particulars and cannot do otherwise; the infinity would overwhelm it.”p.87 This year four Parisians arranged a farce.

The four were students, insignificant, Felix, Listolier, Fameuil, and Blanchevelle and their mistresses were Favourite, Dahlia, Zephine and Fantine, who was still illusioned. The three of them were philosophical and Fantine was a good girl, a blossom from the dregs, no family name, no family. At fifteen she left her little town and went to Paris to seek her fortune. Trying to stay as pure as she could with her only gold her hair and only pearls her teeth. (pay attention the book constantly brings up her teeth and hair) She loved Felix, (c’mon Fantine he’s not even good looking) he was thirty and rich and convinced his friends to take their mistresses on a holiday.

Hard to believe these pleasure trips were common forty years ago. Paris is no longer the same. (pre Covid times seem like forty years ago too) These eight went out into the country, this season of a love affair, Fantine was reserved and modest. “Love is a fault; so be it. Fantine was innocence floating high overfull.”p.91

#les mierables #victor hugo #books #book summaries #epic #historical fiction #tragedy

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jossambird · 3 years

Text

Stolen Moments

Based of of this post! For @juniperquasar and shower anons 💖

Otto Octavius x No gender mentioned Reader

Words: 915

Stolen moments like these didn’t happen often enough anymore, Otto’s life being all too chaotic now. You had missed him, missed simply being in his presence, missed hearing him hum as he worked, but most of all, missed being his.

After the accident, your budding relationship with the Scientist had ceased, leaving you alone to witness the man you had fallen in love with to crumble mentally; robbing banks and attacking your dear friend Peter, throwing cars around in populated areas.

But now… He had returned to you. Changed, yes, but the same, the same quiet and soft man that he had always been, a thin layer of self confidence more but you here for him, reassurance and love outpouring from your lips when you had first seen him again.

It had been by accident of course, like always. You had only been stepping out to get Tylenol for your migraine and Spiderman had swung right infront of you, grabbing you off of the street and into his arms, his frantic voice yelling, asking you why you were outside alone like that when suddenly, you saw him. Him, Doctor Octopus, jumping and scaling the buildings behind the two of you, claws reaching out every few seconds to rip poor Peter apart.

It was probably the stupidest thing you had ever done, yelling profanities and vulgar words to your ex-boyfriend (was it really ex if he had disappeared and never returned to you?), but you had done it, watching as a vague wave of recognition washes over his visage before he stopped in his metallic tracks.

Peter hadn’t stopped though, swinging away from the larger man and carrying you to safety and away from seeing eyes, ripping his mask off the moment you were on the ground.

“Y/N, what the fuck were you doing at 2am out on the streets?! Do you realize he could have grabbed you and killed you?!” He had cried out, worry painting his features.

“Pete- No, I would have been okay, he wouldn't have hurt me!” You tried to placate him but it didn’t work, his poor shaking hands grabbing you.

“No Y/N, he's not the same Y/N, you have to understand that, okay?”

You turned, eyes landing on the man on the other side of the room, tentacles on the ground behind him. You approached him, tentacles rising softly off the ground as you got closer and circled you, pulling you softly against their creator.

“Sneaking up on me now?” He softly asked with a smile, even if you couldn’t see it, hands continuing his work.

“Not sneaking if I didn't try to hide my approach, now is it? Anyways, come with me, I want to shower.” You said against the back of his shoulder, arms winding around his neck slowly. He shivered, letting all items in his hands drop and turning, caressing the length of your arms.

“I think I would very much like that.” Otto whispered and kissed you, smiling against your lips before letting out a laugh, just now noticing that you were buck naked.

“Eager I see.” He laughed, hands pulling you up and into his arms, already making his way to your bathroom.

You turned on the water and waited for it to heat up, stepping in before him to wet your hair as you knew he would hog the water, always tilting the shower head way too high to reach him. Slowly he entered, hands already reaching for your shampoo and turning you towards him, washing your hair in such a way that you couldnt not love him. He was gentle, massaging your scalp and neck, hands lowering ever so often to tour shoulders and back up.

After a moment, you felt lips against your forehead, eyes opening to stare up at the handsome man who held your heart.

“Not falling asleep now are you darling? What, are you getting too old?” Otto asked you, smirking as you rinsed your hair, hands finding your sides and holding you.

“Here, let me stabilize the old fart so the old fart doesn’t fall.” He continued, leaning down to whisper in your ear, nose rubbing against your cheek.

“Oh, you even smell old!” He let out with a laugh before suddenly you spun around, surprising the man and watching him jump, your eyes going wide as Otto Octavius fell on his behind, groaning out in pain even though the tentacles had saved him from any damage, each one fixed into the now broken wall.

It barely took a second for you to start laughing, tears streaming down your face as your beautifully disgruntled boyfriend stared back up at you, sitting there with a look of vaguely concealed annoyance at the situation.

“Who’s the old fart no-“ You laughed, a yelp escaping you as you equally slipped and fell, landing half on a tentacle that tried to support you and half into Otto’s arms, silence reigning around the both of you. It certainly took no time for him to cheer up though after watching you tumble like that, holding you in his arms and laughing, the kind of laugh that only happened with someone you loved.

You loved him even more, watching the way he wiped his eyes and tried to stop laughing, holding you close as if you were his life line.

You loved him, no matter what life would throw in your way. He would always be yours, just as you were his.

#soft Doc Ock has my heart #otto octavius x reader #otto octavius #doc ock x reader #doc ock #doctor octavius #doctor octopus #jossambird fic #gender neutral y/n

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skzfelixity · 3 years

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Jealous Much? | So Mun [The Uncanny Counter]

So Mun x Counter!Reader

Summary: A customer flirts with you and So Mun doesn’t take it well.

Warnings: none

“So Mun, table 5!” Ms Chu called out the young boy, whose gaze was fixed on you and a random dude. Hana chuckled at his behaviour, she had to hear about his undying love for you almost every time they trained together. It annoyed her. She’ll have to confess for the both of you if no one doesn’t want to make the first move.

Mun was very shy when it came to love and everyone seemed to know. You were his first crush so he was going through emotions that hehad never experienced. For example, the butterflies in his stomach. He would get them just by looking at you, his stomach doing flips every time you smiled at him and hugged him.

So Mun’s eyes never left your figure as your conversation with that guy went on, his smirk pissing him off. Only if he had enough courage to storm there and drag you away. He sighed out loud, why was liking someone so hard? Although he couldn’t see your expressions as he was facing your back, he was still able to hear your soft giggles. Were you uncomfortable or enjoying whatever he was saying to you? Honestly he didn’t know but he secretly wished it was the first one.

“Jealous much?” Motak smiled teasingly at the boy, whose attention was now on the bowls in Motak’s hands, which he was supposed to deliver a while ago. Completely ignoring the question, he proceeded to grab the bowls but Motak pulled them farther away from him, “Go confess kiddo, serving can wait.”

His ears turned bright red, he wanted to disappear. Hana laughed along with Motak, both enjoyed teasing him about you. “Stop it!” he grabbed the bowls and left in embarrassment. It was not like he thought they would tell you about his feelings, he trusted them, but it was beyond embarrassing.

“We have to get them together,” Motak whispered, his eyes following Mun’s walk of shame. “Absolutely,” Hana nodded, determinded to make you two official by the end of the day.

You joined Hana and Motak shortly after, a sigh of relief coming out of your mouth. The conversation with the boy, whose name you didn’t remember, was exhausting. “What are you sighing for?” Ms Chu popped out of nowhere, a hint of concern in her voice.

“This guy’s pick up lines were awful. Like if you can’t flirt, don’t do it!” you said very much annoyed. If you wanted to hear pick up lines from the internet, you would search for them yourself. Ms Chu shook her head at how youngsters flirt these days and went back to the kitchen. Motak wheezed at what you said, getting weird looks from some customers.

Hana took the chance to sweep you away, bringing you out of the restaurant, “Whatever Motak and I tell you, you need to give a positive reaction or answer! Okay?” These two were always up to something so you were used to them acting this way, nonetheless you couldn’t help but be confused.

“Okay?” Hana shook your shoulders, she wasn’t playing here. “Yes ma’am!” you decided to trust them with whatever they were planning. You got a wave from from that guy while entering the restaurant, giving him an awkward one in return.

Mun was standing with Motak near the TV, both noticing your actions. Motak knew you didn’t like that guy from what you said earlier and how awkward you were now. However, So Mun didn’t have a clue and Motak was aware of that.

“Seems like this boy has stolen her heart!” Motak placed a hand on his heart, waiting for a reaction. “You think so too?” he narrowed his eyes, watching the boy observing you. He was acting like a creep, his eyes following your every movement. Well he did that too but he had no bad intentions.

Motak pulled him away by the hood and dragged him to where Hana and you were. At the sight of them approaching, Hana nodded at you. You weren’t sure what was that about so you just assumed you would have to do what she told you earlier. As they reached you, the plan got activated.

“Isn’t that guy cute?” Hana asked you referring to the certain customer. You didn’t want to agree but you knew she would smack you if you didn’t, “I think he is.” The uncertainty in your voice made her glare at you. Motak was trying not to laugh, patting So Mun’s shoulder.

So Mun’s heart started beating faster, so you found him cute. Wasn’t he cute too? For the first time in his life he wanted to be called cute too.

“I think you would make a great pair.” Hana told you and you tried not to cringe. You slowly nodded and Mun widened his eyes. If you thought you would be a good pair that meant you wanted to date him. Oh how much he wanted to punch that guy.

He stormed off to the training room, bumping into Ms Chu on his way there. She looked at Mun’s back, he usually apologises so she figured out there was something wrong with him. “What did you do to So Mun?” She pinched Motak’s ear, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m going to see what’s wrong with him, cover for me!” You stood up and left. Motak managed to escape Ms Chu’s grip, rubbing his ear. Hana smirked as she watched you leave, “We did it!”

Motak and Hana fist bumped each other, satisfied by their successful plan. “I’m asking you again, what did you do to our baby?” Ms Chu crossed her arms, tapping her right foot on the floor.

“We had a plan to make him confess and it worked!” Motak smiled proudly and Hana nodded. “Why won’t you leave the kids alone? They will admit their feelings when the right time comes.”

“They were taking forever and we decided to give them a little push.” Hana defended their plan, she wasn’t wrong and Ms Chu knew it too.

“Your plan hasn’t worked until they walk out that room hand in hand,” she pointed out. Well she wasn’t wrong either. All they had to do was wait for you two to come out and celebrate your 1st day as a couple. “Do you think So Mun will chicken out?”

“Probably,” Motak shrugged, “But he seemed mad so I don’t know.”

You entered the training room, finding So Mun giving multiple punches with bare hands to the punching bag. You immediately ran to him, holding his hands in your own, “You will get hurt if you keep this up.”

He looked away from you and snatched his hands away, “Don’t you have a boyfriend to care for?”

You didn’t instantly get what he meant but it hit you. He was referring to the guy that was flirting with you. In addition to that, you realised that Hana tried to make So Mun jealous but why? “I don’t like that guy.”

His head snapped to your direction, thinking he didn’t hear you right. “B-but noona said-”

You chuckled, cutting him off. You were quick to talk again because considering So Mun’s personality, he would assume that chuckle was basically to make fun of him. “She did it to make you jealous I guess,” you shrugged, “But I don’t know why.”

So Mun gulped at your assumption, ears getting red. So Hana and Motak tried to make him confess? Those sneaky-

“Do you perhaps...” you hesitated to ask, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable but you wanted to know. Why would they try to make him jealous if he didn’t like you?

“Like me?”

He looked at his feet, unsure of how to respond. He didn’t know if you felt the same but he didn’t want to lie to you, he still had a chance after all. He nodded while still looking down. He could feel his cheeks heating up as you didn’t say anything, too afraid to face rejection.

It was far from rejection actually, your crush liking you back felt like a dream. You hugged him with a big smile on your face, “I’m glad we both feel the same!”

His eyes widened, you felt the same? Poor boy thought he didn’t hear right again. He couldn’t believe that you liked him back either, he was stressing too much over it to be real. “That means we can date?”

You nodded as you pulled away from the hug, your arms still around him. He smiled so brightly, anyone would go blind. “It took us some time, huh?” You asked, remembering all the times the others told you to confess to him. “That’s right!”

You exited the training room, holding hands. “OH WHAT ARE MY EYES SEEING?” Motak literally jumped at the sight of your intertwined hands. “We did it!” Hana smiled proudly, throwing a wink at you both.

“That plan was really something else,” you shook your head and So Mun giggled. “I guess we owe them for getting us together.”

“Damn right you do, I want ice cream!” Hana exclaimed.

“Let’s go get ice cream then!” Motak ran to the door, being stopped by Ms Chu holding a spatula. “Where do you think you’re going? Our shift isn’t done!”

Well you would definitely get robbed without her, just saying. “Oh right...” Motak sulked and Hana patted his back, “We will get it later.”

“Ms Chu, why are you holding a spatula? We make noodles.” You pointed out, making curious the others as well.

“In case I needed to smack Motak,” she held the spatula in a threatening way, making Motak hide behind Hana. You three laughed, finding the relationship between Ms Chu and Motak adorable, sibling energy.

“Congratulations on your wedding- I mean dating!” Ms Chu turned her gaze at you two, “Now back to work!”

You laughed at her mistake, Motak adding a loud soon and running off to not get hit.

You went to clean up the table of the guy who flirted with you, noticing his number written on a napkin. You picked it up to throw it away later but it got snatched by So Mun. “You don’t need that,” he teared it to pieces and dropped it on the floor.

“So Mun pick that up now!” Ms Chu yelled from the kitchen, how in the world did she notice that.

You helped Mun clean up, he did that because of you so you thought you should help. “Next time I’ll punch anyone who flirts with you!”

“You’ll get a warning idiot!”

You definitely got ice cream later.

648 notes · View notes

yandere-wishes · 3 years

Text

A Story Told In Maybes {Part #1}

🗡️Yandere! Enma Yuuken x reader

🗡️Summary: Enma Yuuken lives on the fine line between "Hero" and "Villain" but his story will never end in a "happily ever after" or a "tragically ever after" it will only end in Maybe...

🗡 Edited by the amazing @tealyjade-libran

🗡️ Alternative title: How many times can Genie use "Damn" in a story...

Maybe in some other world, they could have been lovers

Imagine that...

picture it as vividly as a fresh stab wound to your heart. Sketch the vision of a red waterfall carrying away your life.

Now picture two people. A young man and woman, sitting on a park bench, holding hands and laughing, inching closer and closer.

Imagine love, happiness, tranquility...

But those things only exist in fairy tales. And his life was most certainly not a fairy tale.

They were foreigners, outsiders, aliens. Banished into a strange land were twisted fairy tales, roamed the earth. Where magic and mischief came as naturally to the inhabitants as breathing. Where nothing mattered, because nothing was. Everything is and thus it isn't. Nothing made sense, and sometimes, in some rare moments of stolen repose, Enma Yuuken was scared that nothing would ever make sense again.

All of it, every microscopic thing about this 'new world' was wrong, abnormal, twisted.

Everything except his traveling companion. Another lost soul as disjointed and out of place as he was. Another ghost trying to survive in this matrix of a so-called reality.

There was no shock initially, no surprise in not being the only normal creature to be transported to this bizarre world. Enma knew full well that he wasn't special in any way. Another foreigner being here was one of the few things that actually made sense.

But as the old expression goes, everything comes at a price.

Someone else just like him being here, being stuck in this nightmare, made sense. Yet the price of logic was a thread of hysteria that had woven itself deep within his battered heart. A maddening sense that gripped his lungs, robbing them of breath. That picked off pieces from his tattered mind, replacing them with clear cutout thoughts of her. It was always only her.

His companion in this broken world just had to be you. A frail, naïve little girl with no sense about her. Some pretty-girl protagonist straight out of the pages of Shojo Beats. The kind of girl who finds her happily ever after no matter where the hell she is.

Yet he did not have that luxury, his life was dictated by a series of maybes and could bes. He was a secondary character at best, a background shadow at worst. With no purpose other than smiling and waving. And listening to the protagonist weep about their love-driven woes.

Some days, when the dreary bell chimed for the last time, when the students marched back to the solitude of their dorms, Enma would wander around the halls, squirming in his own misery. Pondering why, oh why of all the people, in all the towns, in all the worlds, did you have to be the one to wind up in this grim land along with him.

Why fate always had to be so cruel, so domineering, thinking it knew better than the people whose miserable lives it toyed with. He wanted to be your lover, your prince, yours. But what would a guy, who doesn’t even belong in this backward world, have to offer some heroine-type sweetheart?

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

The Ramshackle’s flickering porch light glows in the distance. Like a dying star beckoning him to a destroyed paradise. He knows what's waiting for him behind the worn door. He knows you'll be there standing by the cracked dinner table, laying out days-old sandwiches for dinner, while Grimm rangles with an expired can of tuna. He knows you'll smile with tears in your doe-like eyes as you retell the fables of your endeavors. Telling him in great detail how the so-called king of beasts overpowered you in the school garden. How the King of poisons stole yet another kiss. The tales go on and on. Never-ending, never stopping, never giving him the chance to scavenge the fragments of his shattered heart.

You play your role so damn well. You know how to be the damsel in distress, the poor thing in need of saving. It's repulsive, disgusting...but only because he doesn't know how to be the hero that you need.

If he was being honest -something he rarely did nowadays- Those "prefects" were the root of all his problems. They were the evil that made this dark world an endless horror. They'd been the ones to drive him into the "caring older brother" role. They had twisted his hand, leading him to the role of the "side-hero" like a lamb to the slaughter. Made him into a prince charming in a world that ate princes alive and spat them out once more.

They had sealed his fate with a few insults and loaded threats. With just a few longing stares overflowing with lust and envy. They were villains, in a world that celebrated sinners. A world that cheered when the dragon steals the princess and rejoices when the evil king sits upon his skeleton throne. They were villains in every dreadful sense of the damn word.

It's hard to be in love when all odds are against you.

When your fate binds you into one role with no way out.

Like a rabbit hole made of quicksand. It dragged him deeper and deeper into intimate madness.

Maybe in some fair world, those leeching villains could keep their greedy blood-drenched hands off of you.

Maybe in a world where the sun never dies, you could bring yourself to love him.

Maybe he could have been the love interest, maybe, maybe, maybe.

It's always only MAYBE!

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

"Welcome home Nii-san,"

It's a sweet greeting that ties his guts into ribbons. His hands grow damp as his heavy eyes stare into yours. His lips curl into a painted smile, shielding you from the pain that's clawing in his stomach.

"Hi..(Y/n)"

His voice cracks and croaks like a dying frog. His lips feel abnormally dry and his eyes sting as if they've been pierced by diamond daggers. His steps are heavy as he plops down in his seat. The weight of his worries pulled him down harder than gravity ever could. He watches you through tried, restless orbs. Watches as you waltz over to your seat and sit down with the half grace of some future queen to be. It's bitter, dreadful, leaving a sickly toxin-like taste in his mouth. The mere thought that someday one of those, sinners, will take your hand and drag you to some kingdom far far away makes Enma want to claw his brain out with his bare nails.

Enma's focus shifts over from his traveling companion to the silver-coated fireball licking his paws. Grimm's teal eyes scan him nervously before he offers a nervous smile, a rarity for the narcissistic cat. He's usually so talkative, so boasting, there was never a moment of tranquility with that cat around...

It takes a moment. A steel coated moment before the gears in Enma's head begin to turn. Before he can place his finger on the heavy abnormality weighing down the atmosphere. His nerves jolt to life, leaving a freezing sweat behind their trail. The room is spinning like a ballroom floor. Something's off, something big and obvious and hidden and...

Maybe...

"So..."

It's your sweet voice that breaks the tension creeping into the air. Melodic and luscious just like the sensation of a blissful dream. The room freezes in its tracks. The heavy atmosphere melts away like a cube of ice. Normality has one foot through the door. Behind it, hope and tranquility peek their heads through the tiny gap.

Maybe just maybe everything is alright. Maybe it's just him, his stress and anxiety are starting to play cruel jokes on his wonder mind. Maybe he's just going mad. Yeah, that's the sanest conclusion to draw from all this.

Enma cranes his neck to the side to get a better view of your face. Distress is scribbled all over your skin, like pristine razor cuts. You shift around in your seat, clawing at your uniform skirt as if the midnight black fabric is cutting off your circulation. Your fingers nudge the entrance to your pocket fiddling with something he can't quite make out.

His voice is low, shaky, as he replies. The unusualness of the situation has him on edge. Nervous to the bitter bone. Maybe he was wrong, maybe his nerves were right to be wary of whatever this was. This uncertainty permeated the air-tight room.

"What is it?"

Slowly you drag out a white envelope flooded seven times over from your pocket. You stretch out your hand placing it in between his fingers. Enma throws a passive look at the note, his nose wrinkled up at the familiar scent that pervaded from the paper.

"What's this?"

It was rhetorical, asked out of dull, morbid courtesy. This time he didn't bother looking at you, in fear of seeing you look -lord forbids- gleeful.

"A love letter, Grimm found it in our locker after class."

There was a pause, lengthy, nerve-wracking, heart wrenching. Yuuken could hear the way your breath hitched in your throat, he could almost feel the excitement radiate off your body.

"Can you believe it Nii-san? Someone actually left me a love letter!"

It hurt it really did, this time his heart didn't shatter. It simply broke, in two or three or maybe four. Who knows, who cares. They had escalated from simple harassment and unsightly displays of public affection to leaving you love letters. How ungodly, how absurd, how brave...

He laments, eyes tracing over the fog of his breath as it wafts through the musty room. He wants to rip that damned piece of paper, shred it into millions so the words become ineligible, so you'll never read those horrible words again. So you'll forget that some damn fool other than him can actually love you. But he doesn't, he has too much self restraint and too much respect for his dear "little sister" to actually do it.

His arm stretches over the table, skin illuminated by the dying candle on the center. He places the letter back safely in between your fingers. His eyes meet yours for only the second time that night. He takes in your face, Committing every piece of it to his miserable memory. The heartily glow in your crystal eyes, the faint schoolgirl smile dancing across your lips, the rose blush kissing your cheeks, the way the candle illuminates your skin, wrapping in a sparkling glow like the princess from those tales of old. You're mesmerizing in every way, it would be reasonable for other men to notice your elegance. No wonder those "prefects" were drawn to you so naturally like moths to a golden flame.

"Who sent it?"

His voice comes out like a block of ice, shielding away any and all his stray emotions. He doesn't want to know how doleful he is, he just can't have you taking pity on him.

Your smile fades ever so slightly, your brows draw closer. Confusion is etched on your face. You haven't got a clue.

"Well...I'm not sure, but they did say to meet them at the school gates when the clock chimes twelve."

Oh, joy, another fairy tale reference. It's comedic how fairy tales have begun to dictate his life. Everywhere he turns there's a grim tale awaiting him. Yuuken spares a quick glance at the crooked clock hanging by a loose thread. It’s a minute to midnight.

"I should come with you"

It's not a request but you take it as so.

"No need to bother, I'll take Grimm, he could use the walk. He's starting to bulk up a bit"

"HEY! The great Grimm-Sama doesn't "Bulk up" He only gets more powerful!"

Before the older male can protest, you're already halfway out the door. Grimm scurrying to follow you on all fours like a pesky rat. The door slams on your way out, leaving Yuuken alone with his morbid screeching thoughts.

There goes the only good thing in his life. Into the arms of another.

For a second he contemplates leaving you to fate, after all, who's he to disobey fate, go against whoever orchestrates this universe. But it's only a second, short lived and quickly died.

Maybe he's a hero.

Maybe he's a Prince Charming.

Maybe he's a villain.

Maybe he's just some honorary older brother looking out for his kid sister.

Maybe, just maybe, he's your future lover;

and he'll be damned if he lets you slip out of hands.

Enma's quick to grab his old practice blade from the overstuffed closet. It's not much, but it's all he has from the normal world, from his world.

The door grates for the last time that night as he steps out into the cold midnight air. The stars blink in some sort of secret tongue, either warning him or encouraging him, he doesn't know. Nor does he truly care, for Enma Yuuken is done letting life and fate and villains decree his meaningless life. Here and now that's where he'll make his stand, he'll save you. Kiss you. Love you. Marry you. You, You, YOU

But there's still one nagging thought that screams inside his head as he dashes for the school gates. This world worships villains, prays at their feet, and hands them death and destruction on golden plates. And he's no villains, he's some sort of upside-down, in-between. Rotting alone in the border between Hero and Villain. By law of society, he's a reject, a useless foreigner, an alien, an outsider.

and MAYBE he's already too late...

Who wrote the love letter? Was it the head of the savanaclaw dorm or maybe the head of the heartslabyul dorm ? Maybe it’s the ever mysterious Tsunotarou...

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drakenology · 3 years

Text

I Hate Everything About You - Dabi

warnings: ANGST, smut, daddy kink, mentions of rape,violence, AND swearing (cause im a potty mouth)

author’s note: this lil story is inspired by my favorite song I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace. im a lil emo bitch ok? I recommend listening to the song to get a better perspective of how the emotions of the lyrics and the story goes hand in hand. the chorus goes like “I hate everything about you. why do i love you?” and I immediately thought of something angsty and raw to write. hope yall enjoy! this one might be a little long.

summary: You and Dabi have worked together as villians for as long as you can remember but you two don’t get along at all. is this truly hatred or is this repressed feelings coming to surface?

You hated heroism. You viewed it as weak and meaningless. When both of your parents were murdered by an anonymous killer and no one came to their rescue when they could very well have been saved, something dark took over your spirit. You snapped. At the tender age of 17, your parents did not receive justice for the act of violence committed against them. The police told you there “wasn’t enough evidence” and that the killer had most likely killed himself.

There were simply too many holes in the case for it to be solved. Obviously this infuriated you. So much in fact that you planned to blow up the entire police precinct.

And you did.

Now being on the run at only 17 you fell into a life of crime, committing yourself to being a villain who killed police officers off duty earning yourself the villain name “Cop Killer” from the authorities. Not to mention your very dangerous quirk called “Leech”. You were able drain anyone you gazed at of their blood, the gaze having to be completely focused on the person’s eyes. Once concentrated enough it becomes hard for the person to look away from you. To trigger your quirk, you have to say the word “leech” in order to essentially stop the flow of someone’s blood to their heart; their blood being extracted from their veins to yours. The blood only made your quirk stronger as you can now manipulate it and use it in combat. You had enough control to where you could take a little or take it all. The stolen blood was also good for increasing your stamina and speed for a short period, manifesting a weapon with the blood you stole and of course leeching the person of their blood entirely, instantly killing them. The murders you committed granted you the number one spot of Japan’s wanted list. You were also the youngest assasin in Japan at the time so you had to move around a lot. You spent your teenage years living in abandoned buildings and sketchy motels; robbing, stealing and of course murdering for survival.

The day you met the League of Villains was your 23rd birthday. As a treat to yourself, you had cornered one of the dirtiest cops you had ever encountered. He was a known sex trafficker, a thief as well as a disgusting rapist. You had him right where you wanted him; wearing a disguise to hide your true visage in order to avoid being recognized. You had pretended to be a love interest to the cop, sitting in the seedy hotel room he rented to have a little “privacy” with you.

“Oh baby, you don’t know what you do to me. I wanna see that pretty little mouth of yours around my cock. Get on your knees for me.” The police man said, the sleazy bastard unbuckling his belt. You nod, secretly being disgusted by this man. But you had to keep your cool. You got down on your knees and took his hard cock into your hands and pumped, looking him directly in the eyes as you did so.

“Yeah, baby. You’re so hot.” He groaned, keeping his eyes locked on yours almost instinctively as sweat collected on his brow.

“Thanks.. but your time’s up, you sick fuck.” you say, standing up on your feet. You straddle him, watching the cop’s eyes become terrified as he finally realizes who you really are.

“Leech.” You say as you watched your quirk take effect. The reaction was instant as he starts to gasp and grab at his heart, clinging onto his last minutes of life as he died on the hotel bed. You moan as his blood is transferred into yours, creating a dagger out of his blood. You slice his neck, licking whatever was left off of his cold throat. You laugh, searching his dead body to take whatever he had on his person; money, personal possessions and his gun. Just as you’re about to get up and leave you get the feeling that you aren’t alone. You turn and see none other than the villain you had seen all over local news.

Shigaraki.

He chuckles dryly, admiring your work at killing the cop underneath you.

“Well done, little girl.” He said, peering over your shoulder to get a good look at the mess you made of him. You go to ask how the hell he got into the room until you hear the sound of police sirens blaring outside.

“We have the entire hotel surrounded. There are Heros on the way to assist us. Surrender now or face the consequences.” You hear the cops say on a megaphone.

“Shit.” You mumble, quickly grabbing your things; planning your escape in your head.

“Listen, I’ve admired your work since your attack on that police station, Cop Killer.” Shigaraki said. “We could use someone like you in the League of Villains. My friend Kurogiri here can get us both out of here in one piece. But only with your consent of course.”

You think for a moment. You’d rather make a smooth escape than risk being arrested. So you agree.

“We’ll explain everything once we get back to base.” Kurogiri says, morphing himself through the cracks of the door.

Kurogiri takes both you and Shigaraki and consumed you both into his portals, leading you to the secret hide-out of the League of Villains. You look around, your vision a little hazy from being in the dark portal. You see a few other people standing in the lobby. A guy with a weird mask on with two sides on it eagerly introduced himself as Twice. You see a cute girl that looked a little young to be in a place like this.

“Toga Himiko. Nice to meet ya. Hey, you’re way prettier in person. The police drawing of you is really unflattering.” She says, waving at you. You smile meekly as you turn away to see this guy standing at the corner of the bar. He had burn scars all over his face and neck, dark hair and the most mysterious eyes you’ve ever seen. You met his gaze when you noticed him staring at you, sizing you up. You found his stare threatening and kind of alluring. You almost couldn’t look away.

“Don’t stare at me for too long, Cop Killer. I know what those eyes can do.” He said sarcastically, not even caring to introduce himself. He felt familiar, like you’ve known him for a long time. You rolled your eyes and walked over to Shigaraki.

“Look, if you think just because you got me out of a tight spot that I’m just gonna beg to work for you, you’re wrong. I work alone.” You said, adjusting the top of your outfit.

“I know. But today that changes. You see, we’ve been watching you, Cop Kill-” He says, interrupted by your loud groan.

“My name is Y/N. Please just call me by my name. My mother didn’t name me Cop Killer.” You demand, folding your arms in protest.

“But that’s what you are, Y/N. Don’t be ashamed.” Shigaraki says, inching closer to you. “Look, the services of the League of Villains aren’t free. We helped you. Now you help us. You understand don’t you, Y/N?”

You sigh, wishing you had just leapt out of a nearby window back at the hotel instead of taking help from this creep.

“Fine.” You say, looking down at your shoes.

“Wonderful.” Shigaraki says, walking away from you. “Oh and one more thing. I hate back talkers.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few months pass and you’re well acquainted with all the villains of the organization. You were all usually partnered up for missions; you always alternating between Toga and Dabi, who had finally told you his “name”. You grew to be pestered by Dabi. You’d much rather be paired up with Toga than Dabi any day since you and Dabi just could not get along, you both arguing like an old married couple at every mission. You couldn’t stand him. His cockiness, his elitist attitude, his aloofness. He hated you because of your attitude, you thinking you knew better than everyone else. He thought you were a spoiled brat who hasn’t done anything remarkable to even earn a spot in the League. To you, he was everything you despised about some men.

One night you were all playing a friendly game of Blackjack; which seemed to be a ritual between the members. Shigaraki didn’t bother playing but Kurogiri always seemed to watch.

“Ugh.. Fold. What do I have to do to get a decent fucking hand, huh?” Twice said, his two voices seeming to contrast in differing personality. You laugh, slamming down a perfect hand worth 21.

“I stand, bitches.” You say, winning yet another round.

“I’m bored.” Dabi says, standing up and leaving the table.

“Oh don’t be like that, Dabi. Come back!” Toga says, throwing her cards down. She sighs and stands up from the table. “Well, I guess that’s it. I’m goin to bed. Nighty night, Y/N. Twice.” Everyone went their separate ways. You walk into your room and change into something more comfortable and walk outside to get some air. To your dismay, Dabi was already standing outside in the same spot you liked to chill and think.

“Yo.” He says, referring to you. You roll your eyes and walk over to him.

“What?” You say, annoyed to the point where you just want to turn around and go back inside.

“Aw, what’s wrong, Cop Killer? Don’t like me?” He asks, inching closer to you to whisper in your ear. You stand still for a moment and lunge at him, grabbing his throat and pushing him against the wall.

“Stop fucking testing me.” You say sternly, looking him deeply in the eyes with the intention to kill.

“Careful, little girl. You might just turn me on.” He says, grabbing your arm and pushing you back. You freeze, stunned at the sudden harsh movement from the tall man in front of you. ”You’re 5′4′’, sweetheart. If I wanted to, I could end you without even using my quirk. You ‘oughta be nicer to me.”

You get angrier by the second, yelling and screaming about how much you hate him all while trying to take jabs at him, throwing punches at his face. Dabi dodges every swing, smirking at your abilities. He was impressed, but he’d never tell you that.

“Huh. Keep it up and you might actually hit me.” He teased, swinging back at you, landing right on your jaw. You stumble and collect yourself, charging towards him once more. You were certain you’d hit him, the blood from someone you’ve killed earlier that day increasing your speed.

“Fuck you.” You hiss, taking another swing at him and connect, landing right on his cheek. He smirks, wiping blood from his mouth. You get cocky and go for another punch only for him to dodge you. He grabbed your arm and twisted it, pinning you against the brick wall in front of him with your back facing him.

“When?” He asked in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You hated that he could so easily overpower you, making you despise him even more. He releases you from his grip and stands close to you; you feeling the warmth of his skin radiating from his body.

“Listen. You hate me and quite frankly I can’t stand you either. But you don’t see me attacking you. Try it again and I won’t be so nice next time, little girl.” Dabi said, grabbing your face to daringly look into your poisonous eyes to mock your quirk. You focus, ready to end this asshole. Suddenly his lips crash into yours. At first, you’re disgusted and fucking pissed. But then you feel yourself start involuntarily melting into his kiss. So you kiss him back with no shame, all bitter feelings leaving your mind as the kiss gets more intense. You feel his hands groping and caressing your body, his hands exploring to stop at your neck; wrapping it around. You gasp, feeling yourself get hot.

“The first time I saw you, I thought you were the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. And then you spoke. And I couldn’t stand you. But I couldn’t shake this feeling of wanting to bend you over and punish you for your slick mouth. You need a good hard dicking to keep your mouth shut and I’m the one to give it to you. That’s what you want too, isn’t it?” He asked, starting to kiss your neck harshly. You moan, embarrassed at his words. He was right. You found him attractive as soon as you saw him but his attitude rubbed you the wrong way. But right here and now, you realize that you might have been hiding your true feelings behind a façade of hatred. You wanted him too and you couldn’t stand it.

“I’m talking to you, Y/N.” He persists, biting into your neck. You mewl, shocked at how good he was making you feel. You almost couldn’t believe you were in this situation. It was confusing but formalities could come later. You wanted him now.

“Yes, Dabi. I wanted you to fuck me the first time I saw you.” You say quietly, feeling him reach under your shirt and bra to grab at your naked breast. You bit your lip, feeling slick pool between your legs as you fall victim to his touch.

“Get inside and go in my room. I expect you to have nothing on when I get there. Understood?” He demands, pinching your nipple lightly. You gasp, nodding at his request.

“Words. You’ve already made me angry with that stunt you pulled punching me in the face. I wouldn’t try me further.” He said, grabbing your hair and pulling it to expose more of your neck. You moan, unable to control yourself suddenly. It’s like he knew exactly what to do to turn you on. Fucking asshole.

“Y-Yes, daddy- I-I mean Dabi.” You flush. Damn. You couldn’t believe you let that slip. He laughs, kissing your lips once more as he lets you go.

“Daddy works just fine.” Dabi says smirking, watching you stumble towards the door to go back inside. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You knew you should just go into your own room but, God you wanted to see what he’d do to you for almost punching him. You wondered how rough he’d be, your panties soaking at the thought as you gulp and open his room door. You sat on his bed and took off your clothes, leaving your underwear on to tease him. Suddenly his door opens and it’s him. He looked you up and down, loving what he saw. But to his dismay you had on too many clothes still.

“I thought I told you to get naked, little girl.” Dabi said, pushing you onto his bed. He stood above you, running his fingers down your stomach and stopping at the waistband of your panties. You shudder at his cold fingers.

“You never said naked.” You tease, looking back at him. He frowns, shaking his head.

“Man, you just love pushing my buttons don’t you? You’re gonna regret teasing me so much.” He says, pulling your panties down roughly, holding them up to his face. He smirked at the wet spot he saw on them, throwing them onto the ground. “This is gonna be fun.”

You hiss as he slid one measly finger inside you while rubbing your bundle of nerves with his thumb, the single finger not being enough to satisfy your craving for that certain pleasurable stretch. Somehow though, Dabi was making you feel good with that one finger. You roll your hips for more friction only to have Dabi hold you down with his other hand.

“Stop squirming so much. It makes you look desperate, doll.” He teased earning a whine from you. As if to be a little forgiving he adds another finger, watching your face twist up in pleasure. You were visually trying to hide your moans, Dabi not liking that at all.

“Come on now. It’s no fun if you don’t scream for me. Let everyone here know how good I make you feel.” He said, halting his movements. You nod, moaning loudly as he adds a third finger. Any shame or embarrassment is gone as he worked you up to your first orgasm. You grab at his sheets, trying to move for more friction only to once more be overpowered by Dabi.

“You don’t listen too well do you? I said stop squirming. You’ll have your fill but good girls wait to cum. Understand? I expect you to address me correctly this time.” He says, grabbing your face to make you look at him. Something about knowing you could kill him with your eyes turned him on, because he knew he could keep you from doing so. All he had to do was please you, knowing you won’t be able to focus on anything but screaming his name let alone his eyes.

“Y-Yes daddy.” You mewl, your eyes rolling back as he pulled out one of your breasts, sucking on your nipple harshly. The sound of your moans was music to Dabi’s ears, the only thing he ever wanted to hear come out of your mouth. He cooed praises into your ear, telling you hot sexy you are and how et your pussy is just for him. He crawls on top of you, pulling his fingers out of you as you whine at the sudden loss. He kissed you, ripping your bra off. He sat up and stared at the gorgeous naked woman underneath him.

“You’re so hot when you’re not talking shit.” He says, playing with your boobs. He was unsure of where to start. He wanted to please every inch of your lovely curves, his eyes drinking in your hips up to your beautiful breasts. He nearly drooled at the sight of them, your nipples seeming to perk up when he looked at them. You stare back at the man on top of you, his scars almost complimenting his skin as you watched him take off his shirt. You bit your lip as you feel a nice sized bulge grind up against your dripping core. You didn’t even notice that his pants were off, drooling at the sight of his body overpowering yours. He grinded up against you, leaning in close to your ear.

“Ready to get fucked, sweetheart?” He asked, nibbling on your ear lobe.

“Yes, god, yes!” You gasp, feeling him take off his boxers. He positioned his dick at your entrance, tapping it against you to tease you. You moan, going to grab his cock and shove it inside you but you think twice, already in trouble with him. Dabi smirks, excited to break you as he shoved himself inside you and started to rut his hips into you. You moan sinfully at the sudden stretch, loving how he filled you. You feel him speed up, not even fully adjusted to his length as you clawed at his back for dear life.

“You’re takin me so well, doll.” He said, grabbing your neck to lightly choke you. Your eyes roll back as you reveal a sinful ahegao face while he pounds you senseless. You’re moaning his name and telling him how good he feels inside you, cussing and screaming into the air as you feel yourself coming close to cumming.

“C-Can I-?” You ask, unable to finish your sentence as you feel yourself clenching around him. Dabi is relentlessly prodding at your g-spot, causing you to see stars as he notices he’s hitting that special spot. He smirks and angles himself so that he’s repeatedly hitting that spot, watching you cover your mouth as you scream. He snatched your hand away from your mouth and pinned it above your head.

“Tell me you’re sorry for punching me, kitten.” He demands, harshly pinching your nipples. You shake your head no to tease him. “No? Must need more convincing, huh brat?” He pulls out of you, you letting out a pathetic sob at the loss. He roughly flips you on your stomach and plants a hard smack on your ass. You yelp, your pussy aggravated as it throbs at the feeling of pleasure. He yanks you towards him and shoves himself back inside you, you laying flat on your stomach. You kick and scream under him, feeling him so deep it blinds you.

“Oh my god, daddy!” You whine, shoving your face into your pillow as he assaults your g-spot.

“Say it.” He demands, landing another hard smack on your ass this one sure to leave a mark.

“I-I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry!” You scream, desperate for release.

“Good girl.” He hisses. Dabi grabs your hair and lifts your head off the pillow wanting to hear the last moans you can give before you cum.

“Go ‘head and cum for me. You’ve earned it.” He says. And just like that you clench around him hard, your orgasm washing over your body as you cum all over his dick. He rides out your orgasm, only to continue pounding you earning a sharp yelp from you as you throw your head into the pillow again.

“You didn’t think it was over did you? That’s cute.” He said, taking you further. At this point you’re overstimulated, the pleasure almost painful as he worked you to another orgasm.

“God, I love you!” You scream to his delight as you cum quicker than your mind can keep up.

“I love you too. Even though you’re fucking annoying.” He hisses, unable to hold himself back anymore. He cums hot inside you, grunting as he slaps your ass one last time before pulling himself out. You moan softly, breathing heavily as he cleaned you up. He kissed up your body, you unable to move from being completely fucked out of your mind.

“When you socked me, I knew you were a keeper.” He laughed.

“Shut up.” You say, smiling into your pillow.

“HEY, YOU TWO DONE IN THERE? YOU COULD HAVE WOKEN UP THE ENITRE CITY WITH ALL THAT RACKET!” Twice shouted through the walls, turning your face red with shame.

“SHUT UP AND MIND YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS!” Dabi yelled back, rubbing soft circles on your ass to soothe his harsh marks on both cheeks.

bitch i.. i’m sick.

#bnha smut #bnha fanfiction #bnha dabi #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha shouta aizawa #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha midoriya x reader #bnha todoroki x reader #bnha oc

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abluescarfonwaston · 4 years

Text

“Have to be careful. There’s a lot of bandits on this road.” Geralt cautioned the bard, a truly unacceptable amount of years into their companionship.

“What?” Jaskier stopped strumming to confusedly stare at him. “No there’s not.”

“Yes.” Geralt returned the look. “There is.”

Every time he’d walked this road he’d run into at least one set of unlucky or foolhardy men looking to rid him of his valuables and life. He’d have avoided it for the bards sake but Jaskier had a festival and after several contract based delays they had no choice but to take the route or miss it entirely.

“I use this road all the time Geralt and I have never once met a bandit on it.”

“Then you’ve been incredibly lucky.”

The seemed to be true of the bard in general. He carried no weapon, no flint for a fire, barely any food at all in his case. Yet he remained hale and healthy, even during their travels apart.

“We’ll see about that.” He snorted, like he thought Geralt was the one being ridiculous.

They would.

It was near to sundown when he heard them aproach. Pulled out his sword and readied himself for the fight.

Jaskier stupidly strummed on ahead, singing to the trees. If bolts started flying he could aard him down at least. Hopefully they’d recognize what little a threat he posed.

The one on horseback stepped onto the road ahead of Jaskier.

Fuck. Kidnapping the helpless one. Good play. Aard would still spook the horse, knocking the man off before he could get away with the bard.

“Jaskier!” The obvious bandit bellowed. Jumping off his horse and embracing the man.

He blinked.

The bard laughed and returned the embrace. “ Jakub! How are you!”

“Better now for hearing you! Come come! Our camp isn’t far and I know you’ve not the supplies for a night alone!”

“Tonight I’m not alone but my friend and I would love for your company!”

It was only then that the bandit even seemed to register his presence. His grip on Jaskier’s shoulder tightened and his face paled.

He listened to the three other heartbeats hidden in the shrubbery still. Rapid. Fearful.

He eased his sword back into its sheath and raised a hand soothingly. “Don’t want trouble.”

“Right.” The pallid man nodded. “Won’t find any here Witcher.”

And they didn’t. Not on the way or tucked inside the bandit camp or around their fire as they ate stolen food. Jaskier playing and dancing and making merry long into the dark of the evening. Eventually tiredly flopping down next to him and in a few short minutes falling asleep against his thigh.

Jakub watched him, eased by the drinking and calm of the night from his deathly white shade. He looked as warmly at the bard as the rest of his men did. As warmly as they were wary of him.

“You’ve met him before.” He said simply.

Jakub grimaced at him but nodded.

“You didn’t rob him.”

His grimace deepened into a scowl. “Could have.”

“Would have been easy.”

“He’s penniless half the time.” Technically more than half but-

“And rich the other half.”

Jakub considered him and took a long drink of his stolen ale. Eyes drifting down to Jaskier, sound asleep. Curled around his lute and pressed into his side.

“Could have robbed him. Robbed him blind.” He nodded. “But imagine the cost.”

He frowned as Jakub stood, tossing them a blanket. “Got an open bed in that tent. Feel free.” He staggered into his own tent, humming one of Jaskier’s songs all the way.

He cocked his head before picking the bard up and carrying him to the tent. Setting him down in the bed before shoving him over enough to get in himself.

The bard rolled over into his chest and drooled onto Geralt’s arm.

He could hurt the bard. Easily. But he didn’t particularly want to imagine the cost.

#geraskier #geralt #geralt x jaskier #jaskier #jaskier is a capybara an no one could stand to hurt him #except for people in very bad ways - like Geralt during the mountain #it posted in the tags! Hooray!#Jaskier is friend shaped that is all

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district2001 · 3 years

Text

Boyfriend & Bestfriend

Seventeen AU: 14th member

Jangmi x Vernon, Jangmi x NCT Dream

Recap: Jangmi wakes up at an ungodly hour to see a boy she loves, plus her best friend.

Words: 1.2k

AN: Requests are OPEN:

This was meant to be released during Hot Sauce era, but girlie was a bit unorganised and only finished it this week. Also I’ve got my life together so expect weekly oneshots :)

Also also appreciate the numerous NCT song references, and BOYFRIEND REVEAL

Jangmi’s Masterlist

Jangmi slowly closed her shared bedroom door before quietly tip-toeing down the corridor. Her phones torch being used as a guide to not trip over the random jumble of shoes, Lego kits and packages cluttering the hallway.

She turned on the living room light, trying to make as little noise as possible.

“Kim Jangmi”

Her phone dropped from her grasp, and she winced as it hit the hard marble floor.

“What the fuck Vernon” Jangmi whisper shouted, as she bent down to pick up her phone and check for scratches.

Vernon leaned over the kitchen counter, to blow out the candle. He raised his eyebrows as he checked out her outfit. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that jumper looks familiar?”

Jangmi smirked, as she grabbed a stray black bucket hat which was placed on the tv stand. “Leave it in the bathroom- and it’s mine.” She paused. “Should I be concerned that you’re eating in the dark?”

“Should I be concerned that you’re leaving the dorm at 4:32 in the morning, looking like you’re gonna rob a bank.” Vernon asked, munching on his corn flakes. “Also, I have the candle light. Better for the planet and our wallets”

She laughed sarcastically as she strutted to the kitchen and filled her water bottle with hot water. “What gave it away? The black-on-black outfit or the massive sunnies which cover half my face.”

“I’d rather you sneak out to see your boyfriend, and not that. I don’t think I make enough to bail you out.”

Jangmi reached over and grabbed a spoonful of cereal. “Guess you need to produce more songs then.”

Vernon grabbed his spoon back before handing over one of the reusable masks which were on the counter. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Yeah I know. I know.” Jangmi sighed, putting her mask on. “Go to bed soon. Unless you’re planning on seeing sunrise.”

Vernon muttered something under his breath as she closed the door behind her.

She hopped into Seungcheols’ brother’s old car (which he had gifted for her birthday this year) and popped a piece of chewing gum in her mouth as she drove down the streets of Seoul.

Once she arrived 2 blocks from her destination, she parked her car before whipping out her phone and began typing out a message saying that she’d arrived.

That was until she was rudely interrupted by knocking on the window.

Jangmi scoffed and unlocked the car, letting the two masked figures in the car.

“We have about 5 minutes till the others get here.”

“Could’ve had more but someone arrived a bit late.”

Jangmi turned around so she was facing the back seat. “Oh Fuck off Mark. There was a line at Maccas”

Mark lowered his mask before leaning over to the front and stealing a sip from her chocolate frappe.

She swatted his arm, before offering some of her drink to the boy in the passenger seat who was putting on his seatbelt despite the car being parked.

“Want some?”

“I’d rather kiss you.” And with that comment, Jangmi’s mask was quickly pulled down as her boyfriend gave her a quick peck.

“Listen guys, I know we’re all best friends here but like I’d prefer not sitting at the back when y’all are both sucking face.”

“One kiss Mark. One kiss.” Jangmi laughed, before grabbing her boyfriends’ hand, and placing it on her lap. “I know you’re jealous you’re not getting some but stop ruining the moment.”

“You would be getting some if you went on the blind date I set you up with.”

“Listen, I love you honey. But she was such a horrible pair for Mark. They’re both so busy, they would never find time for each other.”

“Yet he still has time to third wheel our dates…” Her boyfriend mumbled as he began adjusting the review mirror so he could fix up his hair.

“He’s my best friend, what do you expect.” Mark held out his hand for a fist bump, and Jangmi happily obliged. Ignoring the whine from her boyfriend for letting go of his hand. “Canada line for life!”

“You’re not even Canadian!”

“I basically made that groupchat what it is today.”

“Still not as elite as the 2000-line group chat.”

“Do I also need to remind you, I am also apart of that.”

“What’s up with you and joining groupchats you’re not apart of. Honestly.”

Mark reached over to grab another sip of the drink. “Do you both act coupley in that aswell? Cos Jaemin says you both are completely normal.”

Her boyfriend laughed before placing his hoodie over his hair again. “Only you get to see our romance in action.”

“I’d rather not.” Mark grumbled before clapping his hands. “We need to decide what we’re gonna do this weekend.”

“Should we do a movie night?” Jangmi suggested, squeezing her boyfriend’s thigh. “You wanted to watch the ‘To all the boy I loved series’.”

He nodded in confirmation. “Our dorm or yours?”

“Jeno said he wanted to watch it as well” Mark added. “So I think we can do ours?”

“Perfect! I’ll bring the snacks. And definitely some hot sauce.” Jangmi chuckled at her wordplay.

Her boyfriend smiled fondly at her, before pushing some strands of hair out of her face. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“And you’re lucky I love Chenle. That boy is so talented. Do one of you think he would go on a date with me?” She gushed, holding both her hands to her chest.

Her boyfriend grabbed her hands, before peppering them with kisses. “Still love him?” Jangmi couldn’t hold back her smile, her heart overflowing with warmness.

She looked into her lovers eyes, and subconsciously leaned over, with him mirroring her actions. Just when their lips grazed each other, Mark interrupted them by clearing his throat.

“I’m not sorry for interrupting this shit, but the rest of the guys have arrived.” He leaned forward, pushing his groupmate back, and gave Jangmi a very awkward car hug.

“Later loser.” Mark exited the car, giving her a casual salute.

Jangmi watched as he got into the NCT Dream van. Switching the drink to his right hand, as he opened the car door.

“Wait. My Chocolate frappe!” She shrieked, just realising that her drink had gotten stolen.

Her boyfriend laughed, before pecking her lip. “Vote for us today?”

Jangmi went in for another kiss. “When don’t I?”

“Can we call tonight?” He asked, rubbing his thumb up and down her hand.

She nodded, “I think we’re filming a dance practise video. I’ll try my best.”

He pouted before leaning in for another kiss. This one softer and longer than the rest.

Jangmi pulls away, taking a moment to appreciate her boyfriend. She parted his hair to have a clearer view of his sparkling eyes. Her favourite feature.

“Go before they horn us again.” She chuckled. “Also tell Mark he’s an asshole.”

“I don’t understand how you both are best friends” He muttered under his breath, as he unbuckled his seatbelt and readjusted the review mirror back into its original position.

He gave her one last kiss, pulled his hood down over his face and got out of the car.

Jangmi rolled down the passenger window, so he could rest his elbows the window frame.

“I love you Kim Rydel.” He whispered.

Jangmi smiled, before leaning over as far as she could towards the window.

“I love you too. Lee Donghyuck.”

#seventeen #svt #svt au #seventeen au #seventeen 14th member #kpop au #kpop imagine #kpop oc #nct #nct dream #mark lee #haechan #lee donghyuck #seventeen imagine #seventeen oc #Jangmi SVT OC

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psychdelia · 3 years

Text

max showed up on his doorstep with blotchy red cheeks and puffy wet eyes, board discarded on his lawn as she pounded on the door with her free hand, holding a shoebox in the other.

“okay, okay!” steve called out as he rushed downstairs. “i’m coming! jeez.” he huffed as he opened the door, ready to bark out a what, shithead? because who else would show up to his place and pound on his door for a minute straight?

except his mouth snaps shut when he sees her shivering in the winter cold and cheeks still damp. it’s been about 4 months since billy died and he hadn’t seen max in this state for a couple months now. he thought things were getting better.

maybe not.

“max.” he frowned. “what’s wrong? what happened? are you okay? are you hurt?” he asked, the panic in his tone increasing with each question.

she just shoved the box into his hands, giving him a determined look. so similar to billy’s. too similar.

“i found this in his room.” he can hear the suppressed tremble in her voice as she fights the urge to cry again. “i never gave it you because i thought maybe,” she frowns, looking down. “maybe he-“ she lets out a shaky breath. “but he never came back so it’s yours now.”

then a switch is flipped and she’s suddenly glaring up at him, yet another expression too similar to billy’s.

“you can’t tell anyone.” she clenches her shaking fists. “if you tell anyone what you find in there i swear to god steve i’ll hurt you.” her upper lip is twitching into a snarl and steve is genuinely scared of this little fiery teenager.

“jesus, max,” he sighs. “first of all, you two are way too goddamn similar for not being blood related.” he ruffles her hair with a free hand. “second of all, you can’t just tell me what’s in here?”

“no.” she shakes her head as she bats his hand away. “just,” she plays with the hem of her jacket nervously. “just keep an open mind.” she frowns. “we’re not from here. things are... different back home.” her shoulders sag a little and he can tell she misses home. misses life before hawkins. “promise you won’t tell anyone?” she looks back up at him.

he frowns as he stares at the box in his hand before nodding. “promise.”

“good.” she nods. she rubs harshly at her face with her sleeve before turning away to walk to the lawn.

“you need a ride?” he calls as she grabs her board. chuckles when she rolls her eyes, tosses back an i can get myself around, steve. then a quick thanks, though. see you around. then she’s taking off.

steve practically sprints up to his room after that. sets this mystery converse box down in front of him on the bed as he sits, unsure of what to expect. maybe porn mags? weed stash? who knows.

so, naturally, he dumps it all out on the bed. stares at the pile of magazines, books, seashells, pictures, papers. the first thing he grabs are the magazines, expecting to see a half naked chick on the cover. he freezes when he finds a half naked man instead, clad in leather.

drummer. drummer. drummer. all of these are the same magazines, different issues with different men. he wonders if they’re targeted towards women, but then he’s opening them up and finding men... with other men. figures maybe hargrove had been holding onto them for someone else because there’s no way in hell these are his. no, no, no. that boy was straight as hell. loved to show off a different girl hanging off his arm every week, made shows of flirting with both girls and women.

but then he’s grabbing a polaroid dated 1983 and it’s billy with shorter hair and fuller cheeks kissing another boy with a big smile and lovesick dopey look on his face.

holy shit. this can’t be real. billy hargrove wasn’t gay. he couldn’t be. he was the womanizer, ladykiller, heartbreaker of hawkins. he loved women and they loved him 10 times more. none of this makes sense.

he grabs the journal next, the leather on the cover worn and threadbare. the first entry is dated from 1983 and the last just a couple weeks before starcourt. right before he got possessed.

steve sets the journal aside, opts to look at the other pictures and items billy had stashed away before he reads about the last three years of the guy’s life. there are a couple pictures of a blonde woman with striking resemblance to billy, the same saint christopher pendant and thick silver ring billy wore present around her neck and finger. some of them feature billy when he was a baby, toddler, kid. he finds jewelry that seems feminine, womanly. figures they must’ve been his mom’s.

there are also some california souvenirs. he finds seashells and movie, concert tickets that read “san diego” on the top. there are also some books steve remembers he was supposed to have read or heard about in school, but also some more he never heard of.

at the very bottom of the box he finds expired makeup and empty hair product. there’s black and dark blue eyeliner and mascara, baby pink lip gloss. nail polish in black, dark red and a deep purple. in some polaroids, the slight sheen of the gloss and his dark, thick lashes are barely visible, but he still catches it.

steve can’t help but chuckle when he finds some candy wrappers and leftover weed grinds at the bottom of the box alongside the butts of joints and empty cigarette packs. marlboro reds. there’s scrunchies, too. shimmery and purple, probably stolen from max.

once’s he’s finished digging through hargrove’s secret belongings, he leans back and sticks his nose in the journal. it takes him the rest of the day and all night to read it from cover to cover.

the beginning is mostly about missing his mom and hating his father, documenting his abuse. there are a few pages about his crushes and boyfriends, allowing him to figure out that the boy he was kissing in the polaroid is named santiago, but billy calls him santi. once he reaches the end of san diego and beginning of hawkins, billy’s tone and messy scrawl is full of hurt, anger, and melancholy.

and then steve’s name pops up. KING STEVE in all caps, taking up nearly half the page. there are hearts around his name, alongside a big drawing of a dick. below, billy writes about feeling like a foolish schoolboy with some stupid crush on some guy with a huge dick he saw in the showers. steve’s already blushing and it only deepens when he gets to the part about billy wanting to feel said dick in his hand, his mouth, inside of him.

he has to take a break after that. doesn’t realize things only get spicier until he gets back to reading and finds out billy’s jerked off and fingered himself open to the thought of none other than king steve. his eyes immediately flick to the half empty jar of vaseline, finger-shaped holes indenting the jelly.

he spends the rest of the night reading about billy’s remorse and guilt towards him and lucas after that night, how billy still wants to hop on his dick and kiss him stupid, his and max’s relationship and how it’s gotten better even though they still blame each other for the move.

it’s both of their faults, steve realizes. billy missed his curfew for a boy and max had no choice but to lead neil to him.

along the way to the end, a couple pictures of steve fall out of the journal. pictures that steve has no idea how billy acquired. some are from school yearbooks, others just random polaroids that might’ve been taken by tommy or carol or jonathan. when he finally reaches the end, he reads about billy’s pool job and plans fo move back to california for college as soon as he graduates.

i know it’s stupid but i’m gonna miss him. his stupid hair and big brown eyes and pretty face and pink lips. i didn’t know anything about the guy but i wish i could drag him out of this shithole and take him home with me. i still haven’t apologized to him. maybe kidnapping him and showing him the ocean would count. but i can’t fall for a straight boy, no matter how big his cock is. i don’t get to fall for someone i hurt. it’s not fair. none of this is fair.

that’s the very last entry. it’s 1am and steve is wide awake. too awake. before he thinks too hard about what he’s doing, he’s shoving everything back into the box and flooring it to robin’s house. he knocks on her window incessantly until she opens it with a glare and he’s pushing his way inside before she can greet him with a snarl.

“billy hargrove was gay and in love with me and-and and jerked off to me and,,, pretended his fingers were mine and his dad was hurting him and his mom left and he was alone, robin.” he’s rambling, eyes wide as he paces the room with the box in his hands.

“he was s-so hurt and alone and no one paid any attention and now he’s dead because of a monster in some town he got dragged to as punishment for being gay and,” his voice cracks. “he’s gone.” he whispers brokenly as he shoves the box into her hands.

robin is very confused and surprised but all she knows is that her best friend is in distress, so she sets the box down and grabs his hands.

“steve. look at me.” she only continues when he does. “sit down and talk to me. let’s go through everything together, okay? just calm down and breathe.”

by 3am robin’s looked through the box and the majority of the journal - steve dog-eared the important pages and she’s a fast reader - and she’s just as shocked as steve, apparently, if her bewildered expression and silence is anything to go by.

“robin? rob, say something.” he urges. “please. i need you to talk to me.”

“holy shit.” she finally raps. “steve, i’m gonna ask you a question and i don’t want you to freak out, okay?”

he nods.

“do you think you could’ve... reciprocated billy’s feelings?”

he opens his mouth to answer but halts, eyes wide and crazy as he stares at her.

“i-“ he gulps. “maybe?” he croaks out. “i-i think so? maybe yeah. yeah.” he nods.

“so you’re bisexual.”

and that’s throwing him on a whole other whirlwind. steve’s had too much thrown at him for the night and he doesn’t have it in him to deal with a sexuality crisis on top of everything.

but billy’s pretty. so fucking beautiful and steve can’t admit it just yet but he wishes he were still here. he wishes he could travel back in time and reach out to billy and save him from the horrors of hawkins but also kiss and fuck and love him properly but now it’s too late and steve and billy have one thing in common.

they’re both alone. lonely. so much love to give but no one to receive or give back.

“bisexual?” he chokes out.

“you like both. boys and girls. like david bowie. and david bowie’s awesome. you’re kinda awesome too, i guess. for a dingus.” she playfully punches his arm and it makes him feel better for all of 2 seconds until it’s hitting him again that the person who wanted to love him is dead. died right in front of him.

“do you have hot chocolate?” she nods. “with marshmallows?” she nods again. “can i have some?”

he feels like he’s about to faint. completely black out. wonders if he looks pale to robin. he needs something warm and comforting and hot coco will do the trick.

———————————

billy comes back in february. hopper and joyce gathered everyone up in joyce’s living room early february. sat everyone down to announce that hop had gotten... a call. a call from some doctor named owens who hop has a history with, the same doctor who helped will.

owens was nursing billy back to health in some secret lab in indianapolis, hence the funeral with no body. apparently billy was in comatose, then a medically induced coma when his brain woke up but he wasn’t strong enough to just yet. then, when he did wake up, he had to relearn how to eat, write, walk in physical therapy, alongside the heavy emotional therapy.

owens hid billy from the world until he was ready to be exposed to it again. then he called hopper one afternoon and told him to come pick the boy up.

max was angry. screamed and yelled until she was reduced to tears in joyce’s arms. the other kids were shocked and confused. didn’t know if they should be happy or scared. will and el were the only positive ones. nancy and jonathan were mostly shocked and indifferent, numb to these crazy surprises the shithole town throws at them. steve and robin just stared at each other knowingly, a million thoughts racing their minds.

a week later they were all in joyce’s living room again, nervously anticipating hopper and billy’s arrival. everyone looked up when the doorknob began to jerk and the lock turned, their eyes trained on the door as it opened to reveal hopper standing beside billy.

billy. clad in a big hoodie, gray sweats and converse. the same ones that were once in the box steve has hidden under his bed. his hair is long now, flowing freely and curling wildly at the ends, looking so soft with the lack of product. he looked tired, fading blue bags under his eyes. he hadn’t lost his tan, steve noted, and looked a little softer around the stomach and legs. for someone who went through all the shit he did, billy looked good. healthy.

max got to him the second he stepped inside, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him close. he immediately clung to max, holding her tight and whispering a shaky, wet hey, shitbird, only audible to her, resulting in her wet laugh. the siblings stayed like that for a few moments before pulling away to let billy see and greet everyone.

joyce had demanded they all not coddle billy because it would be suffocating and he probably couldn’t deal with that. except now she was serving and feeding him a million things, coddling him just like any other mother would. billy was hesitant and tense at first, but slowly relaxed, especially when he was given cookies.

sweet tooth, steve distantly remembered. billy has a sweet tooth, if the candy wrappers and lollipop sticks in the box were anything to go by.

everyone takes turns greeting and talking to billy. steve’s last in line to have his quick one-on-one with the guy and by the time they’re face to face, everyone’s sitting together, talking and laughing and eating.

“hey,” steve greets with a small smile. he can feel robin’s eyes on him and not-so-slyly flips her the bird, his eyes trained on billy and only billy. “it’s good to have you back.”

“you know you don’t have to say that, harrington, especially if you don’t mean it.” billy tries to joke but his eyes and smile are sad. “i only died for, like, two minutes. not a big deal.”

“shut up, man.” steve rolls his eyes and chuckles. “i do mean it.” he chews on his bottom lip nervously, doing a quick scan of the room to make sure there are no eyes on them before he looks back to billy.

then he’s reaching out and grabbing billy’s hand. running his thumbs over the scars along his palm and knuckles. he looks up to find billy confused and blushing. he smiles before pulling billy into a tight hug.

“you look good. so good.” steve whispers in his ear, getting a whiff of generic coconut shampoo. he has one arm wrapped tight around billy’s waist, holding him close with their bodies flush. he slides his free hand down and rests it on billy’s ass, barely squeezing. he chuckles when billy jumps a little.

“harrington.” billy chokes out, voice wrecked. “what’s your hand doing on my ass?” steve can feel billy’s lips moving on his neck and it makes him shudder.

“just doing what i should’ve done a while ago.” he sighs, content, just holding billy’s warm, very much alive body close to his.

“if you wanted to get in my pants, pretty boy, all you had to do was ask.” billy flirts with a smirk steve can feel on his neck. then he pauses. “you’re not fucking with me?” he asks, tone serious.

“nuh uh.” steve shakes his head. “actually, uh,” he pulls away just enough to meet billy’s eyes. “max gave me your shoebox.” he watches as billy’s eyes widen and go fiery. “hey, no, don’t get mad at her. it’s not her fault. she didn’t know you were comms back.” steve reasons. “plus, now i know big bad heartbreaker billy hargrove has a crush on little ole me.”

“who says i still do?” billy raises his eyebrows, as if his hands aren’t tightly holding onto steve’s shoulders and he’s not blushing and making heart eyes at the guy.

steve’s not too bright, but he knows when people have a crush on him. he’s always been bright in the language of love. and sex, for that matter, as billy will eventually find out when he inevitably get lovingly and romantically railed and fucked into steve’s mattress later that week.

“just have a feeling.” he shrugs, giving billy’s ass one last squeeze before he rests his hands on his hips with a grin.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #my writing

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