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bonny-kookoo · 7 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞♡𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 🔞

Who said every omega needs an alpha?

Tags/Warnings: Omega!Jungkook, Omega!Reader, Omega!Jimin, Mentioned Alpha!Yoongi, Stereotypes, Friends to lovers, Major Fluff, Romance, Slight angst, injury, brief hospital visit, smut, oral (f. Receiving), smut, Dom!Jungkook, protected sex, knotting, biting

Length: ~5k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: Boo.

-> Masterlist

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Jeon Jungkook.

He's a good looking guy, above average in almost everything he does, and easy to like. Conversations flow easily around him and friendships blossom left and right- almost everyone knows and likes him. It's hard not to, really; as an Omega, he's naturally passionate and caring, a gentle guy that enjoys making others happy.

You met him at a friend's birthday party, the young wf having noticed you standing mostly all by yourself without really conversing with anyone. He'd been kind enough to introduce himself, stay with you, and keep you there for much longer than you usually stay at gatherings like these.

And right now, he's standing in front of you, smile still on his lips and hands tucked away in his jacket pockets while he sways front and back on his heels after having told you he's interested in you.

Romantically.

"There's a.. You said you collect those stuffed animals, squishmallows, right? There's a new store that sells the really huge ones. We could stop by that store tomorrow, if you'd like." he offers, curious eyes watching you with a glimmer that's just.. Jungkook.

Jungkook is new. Different. He's nothing you'd expect, always doing something you'd never be able to guess- and ut makes spending time with him hoth exciting and a little stressful at times.

His eyes always seem to sparkle when he smiles. It's honestly unfair, how they always put you under their spell with their boba-pearl charm. How can you say no?

How can anyone ever tell him no?

"I.. Okay wait. You.. And me?" you wonder, and he nods, smile turning into a grin that makes his lower eyelids raise. "But I'm not, uh… Are you sure?" you wonder, and he becomes surprised at that it seems.

"I am. I wouldn't have asked you out like this if I wasn't." he says, still swaying a little.

He's always been like this. Never staying still. Always up to something. Constantly moving. Like his body is constantly generating excess energy he can't seem to burn. Like the energizer bunny.

"what makes you think I'm joking?" he asks, and you look down, rather watching the tips of his shoes than his gaze any longer.

You can't stand his gaze. You're gonna melt into a puddle if you look at him any longer.

"I'm just.. Me. And you're you. Shouldn't you want someone more.. Opposite of you, rather than the same?" you ask carefully and it seems that it clicks for him in that moment.

It's technically common sense- alphas get with omegas, omegas with alphas. That's how it goes- or so one might think.

But Jungkook isn't any wolf. He's not ordinary in anything he does- so it's unsurprising that his sub-gender also isn't what one might expect.

"Ah~." he hums mostly to himself, before shaking his hair out of his eyes after the wind had blown it over his face, fingers pulling the strands from his piercings decorating his bottom lip. "Stereotypes. You're talking about me being an omega and all that, right?" he wonders, and you nod.

"Sorry." you instinctively say. The regret of your words already starting to make you uneasy. Did you insult him now?

Male omegas tend to be very sensitive when it comes to this. Or maybe that's Stereotypes too?

"No problem, lots of people think that way." he shakes it off, taking a step towards you. "But, rather than explaining to you what is and isn't true about the stuff people say-" he starts, feigning innocence before he grins at you, holding your hands in his now, playfully, just by the tips of your fingers. "-how about I show you?" he asks, and you look back at him.

"huh?" you can only answer, and he sways again, tilting his head to the side a little, swinging your hands a bit.

"Go out with me." he bluntly suggests, grinning brightly. "And I'll show you."

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Wolf's sub-genders have been the topic of Novels and movies for a long time now.

The most popular trope being the alpha that falls in love with their omega, to live happily ever after. Some of your own favourite media actually includes this stereotype as well- and for a long time, in your head and in many others, this was the most ideal couple amongst wolves.

However, reality is more complex than that, and you're roughly reminded of that with the way Jungkook behaves.

While he does offer a lot of the general traits associated with being an omega, such as his big round eyes and constant need for physical contact, he also doesn't fit others at all. He's muscly, masculine body dressed comfortably in clothes made of soft materials, and his behavior, while gentle and soft in the way he acts, feels oddly confident and almost dominant to you.

He's sure in his walk. He knows his worth.

There's a hand on your back leading you without any force through the store, like a remote control, no need for actual strength.

There's that glimmer in his eyes every time you struggle and ask him for help with something, as if he's amused by the fact that he makes you nervous.

There's that look of victory in his face whenever you seem flustered by any of his words, Luke it's a game he keeps winning.

He's making your head spin.

You're both sitting on a blanket in a calm park- when he lays down, patting the spot next to you in an inviting manner. "Come here." he smiles, and you do so- easily cuddling up to him, surprising yourself even, considering you're not one that's this easy with physical contact like that. But Jungkook? He runs the inside of his wrist over your neck, bashful smile on his lips as he watches you, caring nature of his sub-gender showing in his actions.

"What're you doing?" you wonder, and he grins sheepishly, caught red handed.

"Scenting you." he says. "I- we technically do it differently as wolves but, I don't wanna seem pushy." he admits, and you nod. You know how it usually goes.

You remember your last alpha doing it, licking your neck instead, or biting. It made you anxious. Every bite could've been made to last, after all.

"…Thank you." you tell him due to that, the way he makes sure he's never too forceful making you feel at ease- and slightly guilty. "And sorry." You apologize because of this.

"for what?" Jungkook wonders. "I had a nice day, even better than I could've imagined. I'm feeling really happy right now." the young man explains, and it makes you a little jealous how easy it seems for him to voice out his emotions.

You're not that good at it. Maybe he can teach you?

"For judging." you explain, but he just scrunches up his nose before softly flicking a finger under your chin, teasing you.

"Don't worry. It's normal." he shrugs, before rolling onto his back, your head on his tattooed arm as you watch the clouds as well next to him. "Do you think.. We could try?" he wonders, and after a moment of thinking, you nod.

You know what he means by that. And you want to try as well.

And he swears, if he had a tail, it would be wagging like an excited puppy.

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Your first kiss happens rather Spontaneously.

It's unprepared, a little clumsy, happening in the kitchen after you'd placed a small bandaid over the cut Jungkook had accidentally given himself while helping you cook. Seeing you tend to such a minor wound so carefully just set something off inside him- and he couldn't help himself.

And after the initial shock of it all, kisses seem to be a constant around Jungkook.

As soon as you meet up, there's a quick peck as a greeting, lips barely properly touching, but enough to make the gesture of affection count.

Small kisses on your cheek whenever he's close enough, just to see you turn red, shyness of you just too precious to look away from.

And most importantly? The way he scents you changed.

While pretty tame at first, the entire act of scenting you has become somewhat heated these days- just like now, as he runs his lips over the crook of your neck, back and forth, hands almost sensually running over your body, clothes suddenly feeling itchy.

He never crosses boundaries, never bites where you don't want to, never pushes himself past your limits just because it's easy to do. He's gentle, caring, offers you just what you need in the right amount, easing you into the waters that's his love.

And it makes you brave. It makes you want more.

Your own limbs seem to want him closer as well, your mind slowly becoming more and more trusting towards him, as he builds up the affection every time you spend time with one another.

It started just with cuddling on the couch while watching a movie. Then, the kisses got added to the mix- shy at first, his confidence with you slowly building up towards the point of where you are today; Heated, bodies warm and needy as his hand travels underneath your soft fleece shirt, fingertips carefully meeting the underline of your chest. "Still okay?" He asks, lowly so as if worried he might pop the little bubble you're both in and wake you up from the trance of emotions, but you simply nod, smiling, happy.

And as an omega, he feeds off of your emotions; he thrives in the fact that you're giving yourself into his arms so freely and comfortable, no worries in your scent whatsoever in his presence.

He shamelessly purrs at the way you kiss his collarbone, lips pressing over a tiny little beauty mark he has in that area, making him shiver in pleasure. You've not talked about going all the way yet- and right now, he's not trying to get into your pants at all. You're so attentive to him, offering such kind affection, that its enough for now. He can't deny however that your scent is driving him crazy- making him hungry for even more intimacy than he's receiving already.

He's needy. Craving.

"Can I eat you out?" He asks breathlessly so, and your eyes widen before your cheeks grow a bit red. "You don't have to say yes." He adds at the sight of your shyness, but you just shrug in response.

"I don't know what it feels like.." You start, before you look up at him, and he feels himself feeling upset. How come you've never experienced that? You're so sweet, you should've been able to explore your most carnal desires with someone you trust. "..but I trust you." You say, and his body erupts into happiness.

You trust him.

It washes over him like the hot stream of water in the shower after a long day, making him nod eagerly as he kisses you first and foremost. Jungkook is pretty orally focused, you've noticed; playfully nipping your skin here and there, kissing you randomly, or just running his sensitive lips over the soft skin of the back of your hand, feeling your skin with his mouth and hot breath. So it's not a surprise when he doesn't mind kissing you a bit more chaotically, open mouthed and tongue exploring your mouth with confidence.

He loves you, after all- and he can see, feel, that you're falling for him too.

He makes it all feel so natural that you can't help but giggle at the feeling of his kisses down your bare stomach; dress pushed up by his hands, a grin showing when he notices your reaction to his antics. He feels as if he's high- never having had the opportunity to be in a situation as easy and simple as this; both of you just existing, no words needing to be shared, no roles defined, no goal in mind other than making the other just as happy as yourself.

It's an odd feeling at first, but simply the sight of him so immersed in the act makes it feel ten times more erotic to you than you thought it might. Your breathing is deep, occasional sighs escaping you, soft voice chanting out his name like a mantra to keep you sane; and he starts to feel drunk off of it, teasing licks turning into more determined motions, tongue flat on your most sensitive area, the feeling odd but not unpleasant. All that fills your head is simply your approaching high, not in the slightest feeling like anything you could've done to yourself.

How will it be when you're both in heat?

You've known each other for months now, after all. Your cycle has synced up by now, you've noticed last time he'd taken time away to himself.

Your back arches as you roll your hips closer to him, lost in the ecstasy while his hands hold a firm grip on your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue, before he let's go of you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before crawling back up to lay down next to you with an impish smile on his red lips. "Hey." He jokingly greets you after you've opened your eyes again, noticing how he's moved your dress back down again as to not have you get cold.

Jungkook lays there with a smile, and you feel funny in his presence like this. You've never had anybody talk to you or treat you like he does ever before- you're used to either being told exactly what to do, or to be scolded for what you're doing or have done- so him talking to you like you're something special makes you a little confused on how to act.

And it makes you scared, because up until now, you've ruined everything good.

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"So have you, you know? Repaid the favor?" Jimin asks, eating his sandwich in front of you while you suddenly turn pale. "Oh." He just humms, while you let your face fall into your hands.

"Oh god, I'm such a nasty bitch, really.." You groan, eyes stinging already at the thought of Jungkook having expected you to get him off as well, just to get nothing in return but a stupid cuddle. The shame washes over you like waves on a stormy day, clashing against your bones with anger that swells up in your chest. You're upset at yourself now, appetite having vanished, and now you're even madder at yourself because Jimin had literally paid for that little piece of cake you'd chosen to eat here, and now you can't even enjoy it anymore.

Hormones are a gorrible thing, especially for omegas. And the stress you have these days just really fucked you over, causing you to drop into a new mental low.

"Hey, no-" Jimin says, wiping his mouth with a napkin before a hand reaches out to touch your arm. "-I'm sure he would've said something if he'd expected anything." He says, making you look at him with glossy eyes.

"Great, so you're saying he doesn't want me like that, thanks." You say roughly, and Jimin sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Oh god I'm sorry, now I'm all moody and-"

"Everything alright?" Jungkook's voice rings out next to you, as he stands close to your chair now, having spotted you in the small cafe with Jimin while passing by on his way home from work. "Hey, what happened?" He coos worriedly, bending down a little to get a better look at you who's hiding your face in your hands, humiliated about crying in a public setting like this, while Jungkook tries to assess the problem- your scent making him anxious too, but in a different way.

You're his partner. And his instincts tell him to offer you comfort, make you feel better.

You've always been overly emotional like this, but its worse now than ever. Jimin said that it's probably from being raised so roughly by your more than strict parents- after all, he remembers the times he had to make up stories just so you would be allowed to stay over at his family home, or for you to attend school trips. He's put himself into the line of fire constantly just to hang out as a friend with you- your mother hating him growing up for being a 'bad influence', and your father even threatening him with violence after Jimin had cut your hair for you, having grown tired of you being unable to express yourself even in the slightest at the age of 15. You remember how Jimin had grinned to you the next day, after everyone at school genuinely complimented you for your new appearance.

However, years after and now both of you working adults, you still have the habit of breaking down crying at the sight of the slightest thing going south in your life. But Jimin simply smiles watching Jungkook squatting next to your seat, carefully wiping your cheeks and eyes concentrated as he listens in on your hiccups interrupting your words to him, none of it very coherent.

But he manages to understand.

"Baby, it's totally fine, I don't hate you." He chuckles, pulling a chair from an empty table close by to sit next to you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you both, by the way." Jungkook laughs, reaching out to shake Jimin's hand. "Jungkook, nice to meet you."

"Jimin. She's been talking non-stop about you." He teases, making you pout while drying your eyes with a napkin, earning a snort from Jungkook who just can't help but find your glare cute.

At the end of the day, you're happy to see your best friend and boyfriend get along so well- both making sure you know you didn't do anything wrong- and that it's totally fine to cry.

Jimin making sure to underline that no one even noticed at all.

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"I'm sorry sir, but I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone with her at all." Jungkook says, and it's all a face-off you never hoped you'd have to witness.

Your father had arrived unannounced to apparently bring something over your mother had sent- but you know he just does it to tell you how 'messy' your apartment is, and how you don't have your life under control. You don't know why exactly he does it- any parent would be happy to see their child earn a living from a job they genuinely enjoy; your art selling for high prices, well known celebrities decorating their homes with your works. Jimin had always said that your father is simply jealous- but you can't help but feel small under your parent's strong gaze and harsh words, Alpha father too intimidating to resist bowing to.

And now? Right now your father had told Jungkook to leave, and to yours (and probably your father's too) surprise, Jungkook had declined.

An omega, refusing an alpha's command.

"I'm sorry too, dog, but It's not up to you to decide that." Your father responds, and you worriedly look between the two men, when Jungkook speaks up yet again.

"You're right, it's up to her." Jungkook says. "It's her apartment after all." He says, turning a bit to look at you. You quietly nod, giving him the sign that yes, you want this man out, but you can't bring yourself to say it. It makes Jungkook feel protective of you in this situation, no mate able to stay calm at the prospect of their partner feeling in danger of anything in their presence. "Please leave, or I will call police." Jungkook says, and your father scoffs.

"I'll give you a nice black eye before they get here then, how about it?" He threatens, and while you step in front of Jungkook in a moment of thoughtlessness and reckless protection, you end up receiving the punch right into the side of your head, knocking you to the ground.

"No!" Jungkook barks out, rushing down to your level to check up on you- before spotting your father looking down at the scene with horror.

"I didn't mean to-" He almost whispers, before he takes a shuddering breath, leaving the apartment and you two alone.

You feel dizzy, headache already starting while your hearing sounds like cotton wool had been stuffed into it. It's distant, almost non-existent, and you can only hear Jungkook with your unaffected side. "What's wrong, baby, talk to me.!" he urges, and you sit up a bit straighter, noticing an odd feeling in your ear that makes you run your finger over the opening of your ear canal. When you move it away to reveal red spots of blood, the omega wolf immediately rushes to get his car keys, rushing to the emergency room with you next to him.

An overnight stay, and thorough examination later, you're free to go again, Jungkook making sure to cover all the formalities for your release, while you wait in your room.

"I can't believe he fucking punched you. Oh my baby peanut.." Jimin jokes dramatically, though you know there's genuine anger directed at your father in his words. He's currently keeping you company, his job as a nurse coming in quite handy in times like this, before the door opens to reveal a smiling Jungkook.

"Alright, I've been given your antibiotics and papers, so we're good to go now." He informs you, making you nod, albeit a bit hesitant after being told not to move your head too violently.

"You're lucky there wasn't anything more serious." Jimin sighs.

"Her hearing will be back soon right?" Jungkook asks, and Jimin nods.

"A month or two, typically. The bruising will be down even quicker I imagine."

And Jungkook nods, keeping in mind to never let you get hurt again.

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True to his words, a few months later, there's no trace of your past injury any longer.

Now on a spontaneous camping trip Jungkook had surprised you with to help you get over your artists-block and give you some inspiration, you're both entangled inside the van he had rented out, the rain pattering harshly onto the roof of it. You're both unconcerned with the little thunderstorm outside however, rather occupied with each other as he finally uncovers all of your body for himself.

You'd thought it would all feel much weirder than it actually does, but it's Jungkook- every move he makes feels natural at his point, even if the territory you're both walking on right now is absolutely new to you.

The condom over his length makes it a bit easier for him to push himself inside you, your warmth welcoming him eagerly and making him struggle to compose himself. You're just so pretty in the dim orange light that shines inside the van from the front that he can't help himself, his instincts to breed you full of his cum pushing itself into the front of his mind. You'd look so good covered in his release- and you'd smell even better, he knows it already.

Maybe next time. Or next round? How long can you take it?

Right now he's gasping for air, your little whimpers making him feel more sensitive than he's ever felt before. Not even his own heat compares to this burning need he feels growing inside him, your hips rolling up into him, and he's a goner. A growl leaves his throat before he bites around your neck, movements becoming more frantic now in the heat of the moment, needing to claim you as his. "I love you." He hums into your neck, and you respond with your own confession, before his hand angles your leg a little better, his thrusts a lot more desperate at this point. The van is probably visibly shaking from the outside, force of his hips hard enough to fill the small interior of the sleeping area with the wet sound of skin against skin, and your sensual breaths.

You're whining for more, but for what exactly you're not sure of. But again, as if he can read your mind, he knows- hand reaching between you both to press and roll your clit between his fingers, making your core clench and thighs shake with your sudden orgasm, his hips never ceasing to move as you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, kiss him feverishly.

It gives him the final push to cum as well- though he's a bit disappointed it has to be inside the condom, and not you.

But, Again; maybe next time.

You're overly sensitive, noticing something odd happening, but he reassures you with licks and kisses to the bruised spot he'd bitten over and over on your neck while his arms hold you close. "Did you forget yet baby?" He chuckles amused, making you a bit shy considering the position you're now in.

Completely connected, his knot keeping him inside you at all costs.

"Kook?" You wonder when you notice the muscles in his thighs still trembling occasionally, hips pushing as close as he can get, breaths studdering, gasping. He's moaning quietly every time you involuntarily clench around his length still inside or move too much, and it's in that moment that you realize he's probably still in the midst of his orgasm.

Talk about drawn out.

It doesn't take long for him however to notice your rather impish acts, the way you seem to be very aware and in control of your actions- and much to your surprise, the moment he's able to slip out and discard the filled condom, he's back between your legs, thrown over his shoulders with a grin on his lips that spells trouble in bold.

"You didn't think I was done yet, did you?"

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"I'm a little worried though." Jimin says, sighing next to you while you reach into the bag of chips he's holding, TV show playing on the screen while you both spend a day together alone. "Yoongi is an alpha- what if I get on his nerves or something? Alphas are said to be quite moody.." He mumbles.

You giggle, adjusting the strap of your tank top that rests right over the permanent scar of Jungkook's forever bite.

"Don't worry Jiminie." You simply reassure him.

"That's all just stereotypes."

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fooled-around-and-fell · 1 year

Text

The Best Kisser

Summary: You were interviewed by Vanity Fair for their lie detector episode which went viral.. and Pedro happened to watch it as well.

Characters: Pedro Pascal x female reader

Genre: romance, fluff

Warnings: flirting, sex jokes

a/n: I am hungry for Pedro Pascal. He. Is. Daddy.

Masterlist

"Who's the best kisser out of all of your co-stars?"

Your eyebrows raised. "There's a few on that list. I don't think I remember them all."

"Don't worry, we have that list." The woman took out a piece of paper for you to read with the camera zoomed in from above you.

"Ben Covington, Daniel Kaluuya, Grant Gustin? I don't remember... Oh, in that one episode of Flash, right..." You went through the list of names while talking to yourself and stopped.

"Looks like you know your answer?"

"Yeah." You handed her the paper back, pressing your lips into a shy smile. "Pedro Pascal."

"Pedro Pascal? Why?"

You glanced at the camera. "Just because."

Pedro paused the video, a smile lingering on his lips. "Ah, cariño, what am I going to do with you.."

Oscar's New Year's party was happening tonight. It wasn't huge, mostly just his close friends and family, and your goal was to reconnect with them after your hectic year. You're good friends with both Oscar and Elvira, and they had invited you to come.

"Y/N, glad you could make it!" Elvira hugged you.

"Hey! I brought my mom's famous lemon pie and some beers."

Elvira welcomed you inside. "Perfect. Here, let me get that delicious smelling lemon pie and you can put the beers outside -- away from the kids, you know how it is. Oscar's outside too!"

"Cool, don't eat all the pie!" You teased and made your way to their backyard.

Oscar was there as she said, talking to a few friends, and a certain friend whom you recognized. A very good friend.

"So, how's the night going so far?" You stood between them, surprising the two men with your presence.

"Hey!" Oscar gave you a hug, "It's been a while! How are you?"

"I'm good," You put the beers down and faced the other man. "Señor Pascal."

"Señorita," Pedro smiled, hugging you and placing a kiss on your temple. "I heard you're gonna star in a big movie soon?"

You let out a nervous chuckle, "Hopefully it works out well. Can't tell you guys what it is just yet, but you'll see soon enough."

Oscar had sensed there was something you two needed to talk alone, so he left to help Elvira.

You offered Pedro the beer you brought. "So how about you? Heard you're gonna be on The Last Of Us? That's a pretty big deal."

He shrugged, beer in hand. "Yeah, it's pretty cool. I have yet to actually play the game, but my nephews are elated."

"Well if you want to try out the game you can borrow my console, I have it." You mentioned, though later hitting yourself in the head when you realized you just indirectly invited him home.

He raised a brow. "I didn't know you're into video games?"

"I like to play sometimes, but it's just good to have for my nephews when they're over."

Pedro nodded while noticing there were more people now. "Hey, follow me."

You and Pedro met when you were shooting a movie, that was 2 years ago. You've kept in touch since, but it was hard to meet in person due to your busy schedules. In the movie you two worked on, both of you were the main characters and the chemistry was off the charts.

Sadly it didn't win or was nominated for awards, but you made a good friend out of it.

It wasn't until Oscar's kid's birthday party that you met Pedro again. You met Oscar through the first Dune movie, and you had no idea that he was best friends with Pedro Pascal.

"It's been a while since I last saw you." Pedro said. "I've missed you, we should hang out more."

You nodded, unable to deny the beat your heart skipped and the blush creeping to your face. You convinced yourself it's the beer. "Yeah, I've missed you too."

Pedro took you to Oscar's balcony, where there were only the two of you. This way you could see the fireworks while also have a private conversation.

"So.. are you seeing anyone right now?" Pedro asked. Despite him being confident in front of the camera and knowing that his fans pray to him day and night, he was still nervous when asking that question.

You were his crush for the longest time -- yes, crushes still exist even for older people. He didn't want to mess it up with you, he knew his persona could come off as a fuckboy who has commitment issues, but he's really not like that.

You shrugged, "Nope. I've just been focusing on myself lately, just.. going with the flow."

Ever since you shot that movie, the chemistry was so great that both of you wanted to make sure it wasn't just 'the high' from filming a movie together and getting too immersed in the characters.

"I saw you in Wonder Woman," You said, "Please never shave off your mustache again."

Pedro laughed, "What, you're a fan of my mustache?"

"Pedro, please." You smiled, leaning against the railing next to him. "I used to play with your facial hair all the time when we were shooting that movie, remember?" You unconsciously traced your fingers along his beard.

The realization only hit you after Pedro was looking at you with adoring eyes. You pulled your hand away and you could feel yourself getting red in embarrassment.

"Sorry, I.. don't know why I did that." You turned the other way, letting the cool wind hit your face in hopes that it'll cool you down.

Pedro chuckled, covering his mouth with his hand, hiding his victory smile and the redness crawling up his cheeks. Did you really just caress his face like that??

Taking a big sip of his beer, Pedro gathered the courage to look at you once more, noticing your (also) flushed face and he smiled. He might have a shot at this after all.

"So," He cleared his throat. "Best kisser, huh?"

You knew exactly what he was talking about. "You.. watched the video?"

"You went viral." He smiled, "Of course I watched it. How could I not? When my cariño is talking so sweetly about me.."

You covered your face, "Okay, so I complimented you. And yes, you were the best kisser out of all my other co-stars. Congrats, I guess?"

Pedro had a grin on his face, a teasing grin, and you're now looking at him with a knowing look. Mostly because you both noticed the change in the mood, noticed that the chemistry is back, and that you both wanted this.

You didn't know how long you two were on that balcony, but it was probably a long time cause the crowd downstairs were starting to count down the new year.

"10! 9! 8! 7!"

Pedro turned his body so he was trapping you between his arms, "So, princesa,"

You looked up at him, holding his intense gaze, waiting for him to finish his question.

"You think I'll still hold that title?"

Your heart fluttered, you could see the hunger in his eyes, and you knew you felt the same way.

"I guess we'll find out."

You said it in barely a whisper, but Pedro picked it up loud and clear. He snaked one hand behind your waist and the other on your face, pulling you closer.

Everyone counted from three, two, one, and Pedro smiled sweetly at you, holding you close with your noses touching before pressing his lips to yours.

This was probably the first time ever you've missed the fireworks, but if this was how you'd spend the rest of your new year's, you really wouldn't mind.

---

a/n: in case you can't tell, I have a massive crush on this man.

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its-time-to-write · 11 months

Note

Omg I'm loving your response to my prompts!! thank you

I have a few ideas (You don't have to do them all) just throwing them out there to see what sparks ideas!!

I love secret admirer stories (I know its no where close to valentines day but still) maybe Reader is Rebecca's assistant and keeps getting gifts leading up to valentines day but she is pretty sure its like Sam or Isaac and tells friend Jaime (even though its really him) then the day of the grand finale and she comes to the lovely surprise of it being Jaime!

also if you could include Scarlett red roses in it for me (They are my favorite flower and the only flower I'm not allergic to)

So. I liked this one. Maybe too much? It might be the longest one I’ve written so far, so, uh, sorry about that. But I liked it a lot. It might be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy. also the gif isn’t Jamie Tartt but it is Phil Dunster so hopefully that’s ok

honey, i’ll give you all my time

Good god, it’s February all ready. You have a love-hate relationship with the month; love, because Galentine’s Day and hate because Valentine’s Day. You and your friends would go out on February 15th to get discount chocolate from the shops, then return home for an ungodly amount of takeout and a movie. On the whole, you all preferred action movies with a good romance.

You’re dreading Valentine’s Day because it’s when your boyfriend of two years held your hands in his, and told you he wanted to break up.

That was a year ago. You’re mostly angry that he’s a dark stain on one of your favorite holidays. You’re absolutely determined not to let him ruin your enjoyment.

This is also the first year you’re not with your friends. You moved away last March because you realized your ex had been holding you back in far too many ways.

So. To recap.

You’re alone. You love Valentine’s Day, despite it forever being the day of your breakup. Your friends aren’t here. You have new friends. There is no one to go to the shops with on the 15th. But discount chocolate is still discount chocolate.

Your current job is as a personal assistant, something you excel at. You basically anticipate needs, meet them, and just generally make your employer’s life a whole lot easier. The application said the job required a lot of travel, but all expenses (minus some food) were covered.

You were shocked when you got an interview, then a second, then a third, then were hired.

Your boss is a woman named Rebecca Welton, and you’re half in love with her, but who isn’t, really?

You swear you’ve never been in such a healthy work environment. You mention it one day, early on, and she says it’s all thanks to their head coach, someone named Ted.

You meet him for the first time later that day, and you understand.

It’s impossible not to love him, because he has vision. He knows what he wants from his team, and he knows how to get it.

He believes the team extends far beyond the players.

He believes it extends to you, too.

Ted and Coach Beard steal you from Rebecca as often as they can, claiming emergencies such as “a toxic amount of testosterone from all these boys,” “life-threatening boredom,” and last but not least, “there’s a new pun Ted absolutely needs to test right now and he won’t take no for an answer.”

(You like to give Ted honest feedback on his puns.)

You also find yourself in their office when Rebecca is out for lunch, eating your respective sandwiches and swapping life stories.

They remind you a lot of your parents.

It’s mid-June when you mention the Valentine’s Day story.

It doesn’t hurt as much when it’s punctuated by Ted’s “he didn’ts” and Beard’s perfectly-timed gasps.

You find yourself laughing halfway through, unable to stop.

“And anyway,” you finish, cheeks painful from smiling so hard, “that’s why romantic love is a joke and I am drowning myself in platonic love forever.”

Ted and Beard share a look. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Beard says.

You shoot him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“Well sweetheart,” Ted says, “between the two of us collectively,” here points between him and Beard, “we know of at least three of the boys on the team who are madly in love with you.”

“What?” you gasp, “How did you- where did you- who??”

Ted zips his lips and Beard tips a finger to him. “We know of five if we count Rebecca’s intel.”

You’re sitting cross-legged on the edge of Beard’s desk, in shock. “Rebecca knows about this??”

Ted and Beard shrug in unison. “We all have our opinions on which one should shoot their shot, but that’s neither here nor there,” Ted says.

“Coincidentally, it’s the one thing we unanimously agree on,” Beard nods.

You’re cut off from saying anything by the door opening. One of the players stands in the doorway.

“Excuse me, coach,” he says, accent thick.

Ted motions in a you have the floor type of way, and the footballer turns to address you of all people. “We’re all goin’ out tonight, and Keeley sent me to invite the new girl. None of the lads have really met you yet, just seen you ‘round. Thought it might be good for team bonding, or something. I’m Jamie, by the way.”

“Oh,” you say, taken aback. “I guess- yeah, I guess I haven’t really met them. I mean, I see you guys around and stuff and I’m at your games, but I don’t really know you. Are you sure you want me to come?”

Jamie shrugs. “Coach is always on us about bein’ a team or some shit. And, havin’ a girl around makes the lads look good.”

You think that makes sense, and then find yourself agreeing to go out that night with a group of footballers you don’t know, and (thank god) Keeley Jones.

You’re going to figure out which five before the summer’s over.

—

You have nice time out with the lads. They go to a bar and cram into separate booths. You’re wedged in between two who have introduced themselves as Isaac and Dani, and across from Sam, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas. Roy, Richard, and a few others you don’t know are milling about, and you see Jamie and Keeley at a table, surrounding by giggling girls. The sight is so absurd that you catch yourself smiling and turning back to whatever conspiracy Bumbercatch is telling you about now.

—

You put Sam at the top of your list as soon as you get home. The man wears his heart on his sleeve, or maybe in his eyes, but you’re positive that he’s one of the five Ted and Beard referred to. One down, four to go.

—

It’s the end of July, and you begin to become friends with the team. You know for an absolute fact who is not interested in you, Jamie being one of them. Coincidentally, he’s the one you become closest to. You think it’s because you’re not worrying about sending mixed signals or leading him on. You dropped public hints about not really looking for anything romantic, just to be sure you wouldn’t hurt anyone.

As it is, Jan Maas and Dani have made the list. Jan Maas, because he stifled his Dutch bluntness for you and Dani, because he openly declared he was madly in love with you in front of the whole team.

—

Isaac makes the list in December. It had been in between him and Bumbercatch, but Isaac was the one who walked you to your car every night and the first one to say hello to you every morning.

You’re not gonna lie, it was cute.

You shared some of this with Ted and Beard, who remained impressively stone-faced. Rebecca proved to be equally impervious.

You shared all of it with your lunch-buddy-turned-work-bestie, Jamie.

You ate with him because Rebecca was constantly in lunch meetings these days, and Ted, Beard, and Roy were always revamping their football strategies.

Jamie would plop down at your table and say, “What’s the news, Amy Hughes?” in his perfect Mancunian accent, and then listen/add commentary to whatever you had to say.

You explained to him that the reason you wanted to know who liked you was so that you could be extra careful with their hearts. You knew what it was like to be led on, and you did NOT want to do that to someone else.

Jamie nodded thoughtfully at that and then said, “We’re all footballers though, ain’t we? We get the shit end of the stick all the time, hearts broke by models and whatever. Even ends up in the fucking press. Everyone here’s has their heart broken before, and we all know you aren’t doing it on purpose.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “I’m pretty sure it’s short end of the stick, Jamie.”

And thus begins your lunch hour of bickering.

—

No one has made a move on you yet, and you don’t have a read on number five. You still think it may be Bumbercatch, but in reality, it slips from your mind. Sam’s moved on, Jan Maas has accepted defeat, Dani swears he will love you until the day he dies, and Isaac stays, well, Isaac. Still sweet. Still walking you to your car, coming round extra early in the morning with a coffee or a water, depending on which “looked less like shit.”

Really though, you don’t think about it until February first, when you walk into your office to a small box on your desk.

At first, you think it’s a box of Ted’s biscuits.

Then, you notice a small, scarlet-red rose taped to the top. There’s no note, and all that’s inside is a tiny paper heart.

It’s folded with extreme care, and you place it on your shelf, smelling the rose. It smells amazing and you make a mental note to figure out where the heck it came from. But for now, it’s time to work.

—

You don’t mention the gifts until February third, because now there’s been one a day. Each one with a scarlet red rose, and a different gift. Yesterday was an incredibly expensive bar of chocolate (it was life-changing) and today is a tiny gold bracelet.

It’s a simple enough chain, but it is absolutely breathtaking. There is no mistaking the fact that it is not cheap, so you take it and march straight to Rebecca’s office.

“Rebecca,” you say, hands outstretched, “look.”

She does, smiles, then says, “It appears you have a secret admirer.”

“But I don’t want that!” you cry. “I don’t even have time for that! I don’t even like anybody right now!”

She peers at you over her glasses. “Don’t you?”

The sheer weight of those words is enough to physically knock you back two steps.

You don’t, you swear you don’t, you’re absolutely sure.

What about Vienna? a voice in the very back of your head nags.

You reply, out loud, “We don’t talk about Vienna,” and Rebecca just shrugs.

“Have it your way,” she replies in a tone that means this conversation is over, but you’re the one ending it.

You turn on your heel and find yourself taking the route to Ted and Beard.

You burst into their office in such a flurry that the entire room turns to look at you. “Close the door,” you say with such urgency, that Trent hurries to comply. Beard even shuts the blinds.

“What’s on your mind, Ollie Cline?” Ted asks.

“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand. You point to Roy. “Do you want to be here? It involves feelings.”

“Fuck no,” says Roy, “thanks for being fucking considerate.” He follows it up with a pointed glare at Ted, then goes into his office and firmly shuts the door.

“Can he be here?” Ted asks, tilting his head toward Trent.

“I don’t care, he’s probably a good one to have around for this because look!” You present the three collected roses and the bracelet.

“Someone’s started leaving me gifts, and I’m pretty sure it’s a Valentine’s thing because of the roses, and it was fine for the first two days but this is expensive, and I can’t accept this!”

Ted and Beard share a look. You hate it when they do that and leave you out.

Ted sighs. “Listen, do you think this about Vienna?”

You fix him with a glare. “No. We are not talking about Vienna ever again.”

Trent pipes up, “What’s Vienna?” and you wheel around on him, taking your glare with you.

“Vienna," you spit, like it’s poisonous, “is a terrible, awful place where people think terrible, awful things. I never want to talk about it again and I never will.”

Trent nods. “Noted.”

You turn back to Ted and Beard, pleadingly. “What do I do? Tell me what to do.”

Beard gets up and puts his hand on your shoulder. “Kid, if you want my advice, take the damn roses and wear the damn bracelet. These boys make more money than they know how to spend, so just let it go. They all know how you feel about dating, so if someone’s shooting their shot, they know the stakes.”

You shake your head. “Fine. Fine. I’ll let it go.”

—

You decide to tell Jamie on day five, because it’s a Friday and you’re dying to get his take. You tell him everything, show him the roses in your office (hanging upside down to dry), and then hand him the notebook that was in today’s box.

“Jamie,” you say, “this is an expensive notebook. There was a typed note inside that said, ‘for your drawings.’ How did this person even know I like drawing? I never talk about it!”

Jamie looks at you and laughs a little. You’re very flustered for something most people would enjoy. “Dunno, love, but we’ve all seen the sticky notes you leave Coach. That might be it.”

You groan and flop down into your chair.

“At least tomorrow’s the weekend,” you say.

—

Jamie’s phone dings at 9:00am on Saturday with a text from you that says, what the actual heck and a picture of a brown bag at your doorstep. Inside is a plastic box of your favorite lemon muffin from a local bakery. He emphasized the image, then waits for your response.

It was still warm, you write. It was someone who knows where I live and knows what time I leave to get breakfast.

Jamie grins and sends you a shrugging emoji, and you respond with an eye roll and a you’re no fun.

Jamie reads that and privately disagrees. He thinks he’s lots of fun

—

You’re pretty sure it’s Isaac. After all, he’s the only likely candidate. He’s one of the few who knows where you live and knows your routine. Not in a creepy way, in a we’re-good-friends type of way. You bring this up to Jamie, after personally banning all talk of this with Ted, Beard, and Rebecca. Stupid Vienna. You should never have told them.

Jamie shrugs for the millionth, infuriating time. He’s been noncommittal this whole time. You’re over here pouring out your heart and soul, considering whether you like Isaac romantically or not, and all he can say is, “I dunno?”

This is not the Jamie Tartt you’ve become best friends with.

That Jamie would be down to hunt this secret admirer with you. That Jamie would be helping you figure out if Isaac had a chance with you. That Jamie would be way more engaged than the one sitting in front of you right now.

But, you suppose maybe that Jamie died in Vienna, so you stop bringing it up.

—

It’s day ten. Valentine’s Day is in four day, and you’re nervous.

You’ve decided you don’t like Isaac like that, mainly because it shouldn’t take you that long to decide if you like anyone. There has to be an initial spark, and you shouldn’t try to manufacture it.

Still, you’re not sure it is Isaac, so you’re not going to say anything about it. The scarlet red roses hang on your office wall, permeating the room with their scent.

You feel like you’re dying.

This is a cruel joke and you’re dying.

The building is basically empty right now. Rebecca and Higgins have some meeting, the team is on the pitch (including Will) and various other staff are somewhere far away from you. So, you jump a little when Trent Crimm comes tripping into your office.

“Vienna,” he says, no greeting. “If you didn’t want to talk about it, you wouldn’t have told anyone. I’m assuming you do want to talk about it, but you don’t want judgement from the people you love. I’m here to offer my services as a neutral party.”

You look at him. “Trent. You are a journalist. Your whole job is writing down people’s secrets. Why on earth would I talk to you about the worst day of my life?”

Trent shrugs. “I’m good at keeping secrets. This would be off the record. I’ve never lied to people about off the record, also. I consider it bad journalism.”

You consider this for a moment, then sigh.

“Alright,” you concede. “At least if this gets out, I know whose head I’m shaving in retaliation.”

Trent looks at you in surprise, seeing you in a whole new, slightly threatening light.

“It happened two months ago. It was around Christmas, and I didn’t have anywhere to go…”

—

Your family all had their own separate plans that Christmas. Plans that didn’t really involve you. Same with your friends. You said something casually to Rebecca, and the next day she told you she had booked you a trip to Vienna. Call it an early Christmas present, she said. It was at the Aumaris Vienna, and it was gorgeous and ridiculously out of your budget, but she said you worked hard and gave her peace-of-mind, and you can’t really put a price on that, can you?

So you went.

But here’s the thing.

Someone else didn’t have Christmas plans.

So when you brought up your trip at your daily lunch, said someone else casually asked, can I come?

You almost choked on your sandwich.

Because here’s the other thing.

You were, maybe, kind of, possibly just a little bit head over heels in love with this someone else.

You’re not sure when it happened, really, just that it was probably in August and that it was soul-crushing because you knew for an absolute fact that he did not, and never would, feel the same way.

You didn’t tell anyone except Keeley, but under the condition that she just let you say it and that she never, ever give you a response to it. Just listen.

She did, but you were pretty sure she almost combusted.

But who are you to say no when Jamie Tartt invited himself on your luxurious Christmas vacation saying, I’ll pay extra to get a plane ticket next to you?

You were doomed from the start.

To make matters totally and impossibly worse, he couldn’t find another room.

He had his tickets, but the hotels, he said, were packed.

It was Christmas, after all.

So that’s how you ended up in a luxury hotel with Jamie Tartt for a week and a half, one day of which was Christmas.

You know the, “there was only one bed” trope that everyone thinks is so cute?

It was that, but only if you add deep, shattering heartbreak to it.

Because every night, you had to listen to Jamie say, “goodnight, love,” and then get into that giant, soft bed as far away from him as you could manage.

Every morning you woke up to the pillow barricade long gone, one of his arms thrown around you. Or one of your legs on top of his. Or a million different scenarios where you end up literally asleep together, some weird gravity pulling you to each other.

You were falling so hard and so fast, that you felt like the air was knocked from your lungs when Jamie started talking about the girl he liked.

“She’s just so fucking beautiful,” he’d say, staring at an Alpine mountain. Or, “Swear she’s the smartest fucking person I’ve ever met,” while traipsing through the city. Or, “Pretty sure she’s ruined me for everyone else,” while getting facials at the hotel spa.

To be fair, you were the one who teased him into admitting he liked someone.

You just didn’t expect it to hurt so much.

The entire trip felt like heaven and hell had simultaneously converged on you, and you never wanted to leave but also desperately counted the days till it was over.

You came back and broke down in Rebecca’s office. Ted and Beard were there. The whole thing came spilling out, about how you loved the trip so much it felt like your heart would explode but that Jamie loved someone else.

They all exchanged looks amongst themselves and did their best to comfort you.

You pulled yourself together and they promised never to say anything to anyone.

—

“So that’s Vienna,” you finish.

Trent is just staring at you, mouth slightly agape.

He finally says, “My god, that’s fucked,” with such emotion that you decide right then and there that you like Trent Crimm and his rainbow mug.

Now, you just shrug. “I did it to myself, honestly. That’s why I’m tripping out about this secret admirer thing. And god, Trent, the roses. They’re so beautiful and it’s so romantic, and whoever it is obviously knows me well so there’s a part of me that wants to like this person, but…” you trail off.

“But there’s a part of you that’s hoping against hope that Jamie’s behind it all,” Trent finishes.

You let out a little laugh. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Trent looks at the roses, then at you. “Maybe you should talk to Jamie,” he says, gently.

You reply with a forceful, “No,” and then follow up with a small, “That’s what Ted and Rebecca say, too.”

Trent stands up, shrugs, says with a small smile, “Just a thought,” then he’s out the way he came.

—

It is Valentine’s Day. And it’s a Sunday, which means you are legally required to stay in bed until 10, at which point you will get out only to make yourself decent enough to go buy a good cup of coffee and maybe (definitely) something to eat.

You’ve just finished putting on your shoes, when there’s a knock at the door.

You take a breath, and get ready to let down your secret admirer as gently as possible.

You swing open the door to reveal-

“Jamie! What are you doing here?”

Jamie Tartt is on your doorstep, hands behind his back, looking shyer than the day you first met.

He opens his mouth and says the last thing you’d ever expect:

“D’you remember Vienna?”

Your heart, which had already been going fast because his dumb floppy hair was all dumb and floppy in his stupid, cute headband, is now working double time. You manage a nod.

Jamie takes this as permission to continue. “D’you remember how I couldn’t get another room, no matter how hard I tried? That wasn’t true. I could’ve.” He pauses, and you wait for him to continue.

“And d’you remember when we met, when I told you Keeley told me to invite you out? That was a lie too.”

You tilt your head, confused. He keeps going.

“Look- I fucked it. I fucked it a million times and I told Ted and I told Beard, but they kept helping me un-fuck it and giving me chances, and then Rebecca bought two tickets to Vienna and slipped me the other one, and they all told me I had a perfect shot.”

You’re still not understanding what he’s saying. He might as well be speaking another language. Jamie sees the confusion in your eyes, takes a breath, and tries again.

“Keeley told me to invite you out, but only because I’d seen you around and thought you were fit. Then Isaac and all the lads thought the same thing, so I didn’t even get to fuckin’ sit with you. And then you started sayin’ things about not bein’ ready for a relationship, so I tried to let it go. I really fucking tried. But I just couldn’t. Your eyes are too sparkly and your laugh is too fucking cute and I couldn’t let it go, so I started eating lunch with you and you fucking let me. I knew the moment I said anything about liking you, it was over.”

Comprehension has started to dawn, but you push down hope until Jamie’s done speaking.

“Everyone told me to shoot my shot in Vienna. We shared a bed, for fuck’s sake.” Here, Jamie looks bewildered. “But I dunno, I didn’t want to make shit weird. So when you asked if I liked anyone I said yeah, and started fuckin describing you, but you never fucking picked up on it. That’s when I got the idea to try one more time. All by meself, no help from anyone else. So…yeah.”

Jamie Tartt is standing on your porch confessing his love for you on Valentine’s Day and it is not a dream, because if it were your teeth would be falling out and his hair would probably be neon pink.

“I’m an idiot,” you breathe. “You like me? Like, like-like me?”

Jamie quirks a smile at that. “Not quite, darling. Pretty fucking sure I love you.” He pulls his hand from behind his back to reveal a bunch of scarlet red roses. The same from each gift.

“Got these for you,” he says. “D’you know how hard it is to get red roses in February?”

You don’t answer him because you’re leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve thought about doing every day for what feels like forever. He’s kissing you back, hand with the flowers pressed against your back, other hand in your hair.

“I love you too, Jamie,” you whisper against his mouth. He smiles and pulls you in again.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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kookies2000 · 10 months

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Because I feel like it.

Yellow sky? Bare footed characters? Mostly a mess? Over exaggerating some of the Hispanic features. I saw the first episode, and it was just poorly written in general. And what mother calls their son "cochinada." Roughly translates to dirty or trash.

What's good Latino/Hispanic representation?

Colombian 🇨🇴

In the Caribbean region of Colombia, they light up candles and lanterns on December 8, before sunrise. So the candle giving them magic was a wonderful detail. Generational trauma is a thing for us Latinos, and this film handled it in a healthy and matuer manner. And I love how they didn't shy away with how Spaniards attacked and colonized latin lands.

Mexicans 🇲🇽

Yes, us Mexicans love death. 🤣 But hey, I was always taught to respect death, La Muerte, and our ancestors. So, it makes sense that many Mexican films talk about death. But I also like that Maya and the Three have Aztec, Mayan, and Incan mythology. Natives to Mexico.

Dominican Puerto Rican 🇩🇴🇵🇷

Luz mom is Dominican, and Luz dad is Puerto Rican. I appreciate a good interracial couple and a mixed child. Luz name also translates to light, and some Latinos are known for doing witch craft. Or at least knowledgeable about witches and demons, and no, we aren't evil. We just know how to handle this stuff. Plus, the owl has many meanings in Latino culture. To some, I believe the owl is a messenger of death and is telling everyone that death/danger is near.

Afro Latino. Puerto Rican 🇵🇷

I am a massive sucker for interracial couples and mixed kids because of this. I was working at a hispanic store as a cashier. This woman walks past me and starts talking to the bagger. The bagger has blond hair, blue eyes, and white skin. The bagger looks at me worried because she doesn't speak English. So brown skin, black hair, me has to tell the bagger that the lady wanted ice in Spanish. I then talked to the lady in English. Her reaction? "YOU SPEAK ENGLISH!" Same for a dark skinned man. So many people skip me and talk to him in English. He's Dominican, and he only spoke Spanish. I appreciate films that show Latinos in different skin types and features. We're not all brown. So yeah, the mass diversity in this film is just beautiful. And I love how they wrote Miles relationship with his parents. Realistic conflict and healthy communication. Not falling into toxic stereotypes.

Spainard Puss 🇪🇸 Mexican Kitty & Perrito 🇲🇽

Spaniards are considered Hispanic but not Latinos like Mexicans. And again, interracial couples for the win. And I love the realism in their romance that heals through healthy therapy. Many people see Mexicans as toxic, so having Perrito as a therapist and the one helping everyone emotionally, it's nice. Not every Mexican is toxic. And I love how you can tell their Spanish and Mexican even though their animals. Puss Spanish accent, Spanish actor, him being a ginger like some Spaniards, flamingo dancing, and gazpacho. Kitty, Mexican accent, Mexican actress, black fur/hair like most Mexicans, quinceañera, and I love how they gave her a luchador mask. Something that originates from Mexico. Also, my brother and I joke how we as Mexiacns can't swim and Kitty nearky drowns in the 1st film. 🤣 Perrito, he's a chihuahua with a Mexican actor. Enough said. I also want to say death is Brazilian because of his actor.

I don't know much about Spanish culture, but someone said the wishing star has a connection to Spanish culture. Is that true? If so, COOL! Because death is connected to Mexican culture. So, Dreamworks finding a way to combine Spanish and Mexican culture in one film is 100% magical.

There are many more, like Beverly Hills Chihuahua 🇲🇽. 🤣 That film is better than Primos. Emperor's New Groove, Peru 🇵🇪, and Rio, Brazil 🇧🇷. Not Hispanic but Latino culture. But this post is getting long. Primos! A huge step down in Latino/Hispanic representation. Especially since we have so many good films and shows that have proper representation.

#primos #encanto #maya and the three #maya and the 3 #coco #book of life #the owl house #toh #owl house #puss in boots #puss in boots the last wish #spiderman across the spiderverse #spider man: into the spider verse #into the spider verse #spiderman: into the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman #spider man across the spider verse #across the spiderverse

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joydemorra · 1 month

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Do you ever start something as a joke and lose complete control over your life?

In a world of dwindling hope, love has never mattered more... [read the full blurb here]

What is Hunger Pangs?

Hunger Pangs, often shortened to “Phangs” by the self-proclaimed phangdom, is my debut romance novel, published in Nov 2020, featuring a deaf, disabled werewolf, a neurodivergent, mad scientist vampire, and an all-powerful enchantress who is the last of her kind.

It is the first book in a slow-burn, polyamorous gaslamp fantasy romance series focusing on the relationship(s) and antics of the three main characters, Nathan Northland, Vlad Blutstein, and Lady Ursula, as they work to save the world they love from imminent magical and ecological disaster.

The first book primarily focuses on the relationship between Nathan and Vlad, with Ursula heavily alluded to in the next book (Pride and Folly) via some shameless flirting and stolen, impulsive kisses.

No love triangles here. Just three highly competent, world-saving bisexuals sharing the same brain cell the closer they get to each other.

There are two editions of the novel. The Flirting with Fangs edition depicts on-page sexual acts, and the Fluff and Fangs edition which uses alternative scenes/fade-to-black scenes for those who prefer not to read depictions of sex. You can read more about why I decided to do this here.

How Did Phangs come to be?

Like most things on my blog, the original concept began as a joke. My friend and enabler, @jeneelestrange, and I were talking about our least favorite tropes in romance/erotica, including but not limited to toxic “alpha” werewolves, brooding stalker vampire boyfriends, and the absolute profound bullshit that is the Conflicted Love Triangle and Bury Your Gays.

Eventually, it culminated in this post:

(source)

It was meant to be a joke. I really cannot emphasize this enough. It was meant to be a shitpost between friends.

A throwaway ADHD impulse.

Tumblr, however, wanted more of these posts, and like a swarming mass of drift-compatible rats in a trench coat, grabbed hold of my lack of impulse control and Ratatouille'd me into becoming an international bestselling author, and, well, here we are.

I also started writing the series while dying, which I highly do not recommend as a functional creative process.

Absolutely do not start a 500k five-part novel series about love and hope while dying from an undiagnosed genetic disorder. Or if you do, make sure you actually die so you don't have to edit the damn thing. (I am mostly kidding.)

What are the themes/tropes/character dynamics of the book?

In the simplest of terms, Phangs is a queer-polyamorous-paranormal-satirical-romance series featuring vampires, werewolves, and all other manner of creatures that go bump in the night.

It is set in a pseudo-regency meets fake-Victorian Gaslamp Fantasy world, complete with gothic castles, enchanted forests, and just a smidge of industrial coal dust.

Style-wise, Phangs has been described by readers as "like reading the queer, goth love child of Terry Pratchett meets Jane Austen," and I've never been more proud of anything in my life.

If Game of Thrones ascribes to the idea that the night is dark and full of terrors, Phangs is the monster-fucker politely sidling up to them at the bar and asking if they can buy them a drink.

It is also primarily a love letter to fandom, which has led some people to believe it’s fanfiction with the serial labels filed off. But as the person who spent five years agonizing over the world-building, I can assure you this is all very much the product of my weird little ADHD brain picking up tropes, shaking them upside down, and running off with whatever fun and interesting things shake loose.

As already stated, the first book, True Love Bites, focuses primarily on the relationship between Captain Nathaniel J. Northland and Viscount Vlad Blutstein.

The first part of the book primarily focuses on Nathan coming home injured from war and trying to find his place in the world as newly deaf and disabled -- something which alienates him from his werewolf family, who don't know what to do with an injury that can't be mended by a full moon.

While working on the island of Eyrie, he encounters Viscount Blutstein -- Vlad-- a neurodivergent, mad scientist dandy vampire with an enthusiasm for demonic botany and a streak of unfailing kindness as broad and expansive as the sky.

It's not so much love at first sight for the pair as instantaneous lust hampered by the restrictions of polite 1880 society and old ingrained prejudices that make them think the other couldn't possibly be interested in them that way. They're just misreading all those heartfelt stares and sexually charged chess games.

(The love is requited, your honor, they're just idiots.)

Both characters are explicitly queer/mspec, as is Ursula, who drops into their world like a magical atom bomb going off, but not before she spends her own parts of the book desperately trying to figure out what manner of dark entity is killing the magical shrines around the world that keep the world alive.

Thematically, the series touches on many things, but the book’s overriding theme is love. Romantically, of course, and love between families, both found or otherwise. But also love as an act of courage. As a choice. An act of defiance in dark and troubling times, and what it means to be loved and belong even though you’re different.

Especially when you’re different.

And I really fucking hope you enjoy it.

To read the full synopsis and check out the heat ratings, buy links and content tags, go to www.joydemorra.com

#hunger pangs: true love bites #info post #Hunger Pangs master post

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tumbleweed-run · 8 months

Text

Could Gale ever be Poly?

Situationally. Yes

Am I the person who wrote an entire post about Gale being a jealous (rightfully so) man? Yes.

But hear me out, in the aftermath of BG3, as long as we took everyone's "good" route. I could see him eventually agreeing to a 3rd. Not just any but very specifically Astarion. And while this is partially bloodweave brainrot I assure you I have considered it.

It wouldn't be easy for either of them, and realistically Tav. But Gale would start out as the main, Astarion and Tav are just BFFs. Astarion learning that love can be without strings.

They invite him to Waterdeep, away from the city and it's memories but also towards a potential Vampirism Cure/Day walking spell that doesn't involve becoming Cazador. Because Gale would be the most qualified to find that cure. And I bet his tower is easily traversed in the daylight hours without risk to Astarion.

It could just stop there, the three of them happy.

But we're discussing a triad.

I think the first crossroads towards romance would actually be Gale/Astarion. Astarion would still be himself and while his innuendo and flirting is generally accepted as just Who He Is and no one pays it mind. Maybe Gale off handedly agrees to whatever entendre that is proposed, as a challenge or just truly "yes I would agree to doing this dirty thing you've joked about." Astarion would be

at first. Mostly from shock but then he'd dwell on it. Tav and Gale aren't shy with touch, with each other or him. He's regularly hugged and cuddled, sometime's he's even the initiator. It's not uncommon for Gale to emerge from his study after hours to find them curled up on the same couch each immersed in their own thing.

Gale's probably the first one to be surprised by his own lack of jealousy when he happens upon the scene for the first time. But it just becomes the norm. And when Tav is off working on their own thing it eventually becomes common to find Gale and Astarion knee to knee in the study, each with excessively large tomes, leaning over one another because they're both working from BOTH books.

So that first time Gale is blatantly like "yeah lets do that" Astarion is struck by the fact that... he actually might want to. But he's reluctant because Tav's (and admittedly Gale's) friendship is unexpectedly more important that anything as fleeting as 'romance' or 'lust'.

But Tav is 200% on board when the conversation get brought up by Astarion (in the 'ahaha you wouldn't believe...' way). They love both these idiots, albeit in different ways, and wouldn't mind. Even if it was just Gale&Astarion.

But it would never be JUST those two because of how deeply both men care for Tav. Whatever they build to becomes normal. Maybe all three sleep in the same bed, Astarion position on the outside so he can sneak off when he's done resting. Maybe they just constantly find each other making overlapping decisions about future adventures or where to look for a rumored cure.

Part of the reason why this works is Gale and Astarion are not dissimilar. They face their trauma with different takes but it's deeply embedded in who they are and how they'll approach life forever more. While Gale is 100% willing to try and give Astarion more autonomy than he's ever dreamed of, believing that 'if you love something set it free' line. Astarion would spend a lot of time trying to get Gale to see and accept that while he made mistakes he was far from the villain in his story. Tav would spend most of that time trying to run around thwarting miscommunication and reigning in Astarion's god-killer urge despite also wanting very much to punch Mystra.

So while I think both men deserve to be 100% the center of someone's affections, I also believe they could eventually find a healthy trio dynamic.

(and also do whatever the faerun equivalent of an eiffel tower is to tav regularly)

#bg3 #gale dekarios #astarion ancunin #bloodweave #kind of #bloodweave adjacent #bloodweave x tav #bg3 spoilers

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iceprincessviviane · 7 months

Text

In silence

Type: Dark romance, may be read as soft yandere

Paring: CEO!Namjoon x Shy!Skinny!P.A!Female!Reader

Genere: mix of everything, beaware - smut.

It's a oneshot.

Warnings: Dark romance, alcohol, smut and sexual themes - size kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, possessivness, marking and creampie. Brief swearing, breaking up and cheating, low selfesteem, age gap (around 5 years), abusing power as boss (nothing too much), reader is skinny - around 40kg-45kg and silly jokes creates by me. English isn't my first language so sorry for all mistakes.

Author's note: It's technically my first smut, so it can be a little cringe.

Dedicated to @aft3rhrs because this beautiful meance (angel) has always support me so there is a piece of my work. Also please check her content is absolute amazing!

Minors please do not interact.

Namjoon was fixing his a little creased and elegant shirt in elevator. His hand went through silver, disheveled hair and he looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't look that bad, his brothers have seen him in worse condition. He just didn't want them to notice almost immediately. He stepped out in 47 floor, for a short period of time looking at city down below. This time they were meeting in Jin's new apartment. He moved a little bit closer to centrum, but his house on outskirts were always available. Heavy steps echoed through hall, when he sped up. Namjoon was late exactly fifteen minutes.

Taehyung opened door with mischevious smile, everyone greeted him, J-hope came for a brothely hug. Jin looked at him from kitchen, adding last touches to dishes he prepared.

"Look who it is. Even Jimin was be able to be on time." Yoongi teased crossing his legs elegantly on a couch.

"Hyung!" Jimin hissed with a offend.

"Car traffic." Namjoon shrugged placing a bottle of expensive wine on countertop.

"Don't you have the most skilled driver?" Jin said looking at him with amusement.

"Will you stop?" Namjoon snapped a little.

"Don't talk back to elders." Yoongi pointed at him with his finger.

Namjoon sighed sitting down and taking off his expensive jacket. Jungkook was observing him carefuly with bunny smile. He looked at his hyungs giving them almost invisible nod.

"Nice place Jin I must admit."

"Thanks. I'll be finally able to see you all often."

All of the cheered at his statement. The oldest placed his dishes on coffee table. There were mostly snacks and Jimin opened this expensive bottle filling everyone's glass.

"I have also something stronger." Jin said sitting down.

"We don't wanna to get drunk hyung." Jungkook stated reaching for a fork.

The conversation has begun, they were talking about almost everything, but mostly about job. Each one of them was successful CEO, their parents were friends and they have met in early childhood. Their bond was more than a friendship, they were a brothers. Protecting each other, caring about each other and worring about each other. As soon as their complains stopped and all the jokes were told a silence has fell upon them. All eyes were fixed on Namjoon, he gulped on his glass.

"What?" He asked bluntly.

"You would deceive us, but this expensive, feminine perfumes are all over your body." Yoongi said tilting his head a little on right.

"Isn't that the right time to make a move? How long does she work for you? Three years?" Jin asked.

Namjoon sighed and put down his glass looking at his brothers. He clenched his jaw.

"Yes, three years. But she has a boyfriend."

"As if that mean something." Taehyung scoffed.

"Seriously hyung you need to quit fucking around and take matters in your own hand." Hobi said softly looking at his hyung with worry.

"You won't forget her through that, I know what I am saying." Jimin added.

"Unless you'll fire her." Yoongi summed up.

"Fuck, never. Besides all of this she is a great P.A. with my clumsiness and forgotting stuff, I would be doomed." Namjoon stated.

"So we have an answer." Jin said looking at him waiting.

"Look guys, I appreciate your concern, but I don't want to scare off with any movements or make her hate herself or blame. She might quit or ran away."

"I am pretty sure that you are perfectly capable of convincing someone to stay at your side." Yoongi noticed playing with his glass.

"Yeah and you can totally attract anyone hyung, not to mention all the women you fucked up in previous three months." Jungkook shrugged.

"And if you're afraid of breaking her, then do it and fix it." J-hope helped with serious gaze.

}*{

The morning went very smooth, Namjoon was passing through his building with wide smile, diamples showing, some workers greeted their boss and his smile improved humor a lot of them. It was past lunch time, he had to do something earlier so only now coming to his office. He entered big room with wide windows, large desk behind them and armchair.

"Good morning Mr-Mr. Kim." This little hesitation made him stop on his tracks.

Under a wall, near the entrance was another desk, but smaller. A lot of shelves, computer monitor, binders and board with pinned small papers. He looked at his personal assistant with surprise, but she seemed to ran away from his gaze, lean to look on papers, hiding face. His brows almost met each other in deep frown, but he decided to be quiet about it. He put away his light coat, it was spring but sometimes the cold wind was showing up, took his laptop and sat behind desk. The room has been filled by silence, but not one, that Namjoon enjoyed. Usually it was comfortable silence, which was distrubed by keyboard or shuffling on his or her side. Today it was like her fingers were typing almost silently, long hair covered almost all of her face. He really wanted to ask what happend, but she would said as always 'Everything is okay Mr.Kim, thank you for your concern.', but nothing was so visible as today's matter. On right side of her desk was a finished cup of tea, nothing more. Namjoon frowned again.

"Did you have your lunch break Miss L/N?" He asked looking at her.

She jumped at sudden silence breaking, slowly looked at her boss and noded. "Yes Mr. Kim."

She was paler than ususal and cheeks a little bit reddish. Make up little stronger, than he know. It had him wonder. Y/N was always dressing aproppriate to work, neat and crisp shirt following by pencil, long skirt then usually elegant jacket, because even in spring she would be cold in the office. She went back to her work, but he was distracted, fighting inside to ask or to remain silent.

"You seem to be little away with your thoughts."

"I-I'm sorry Mr.Kim. It won't happened again."

Her little figure shrugged and shrinked under his words. He didn't mean it in harsh way, but in a chance for her to explain, well it didn't work. During whole day he noticed as she was looking at the wall in front of her with glassy eyes. When finally the end of the work has come, he really wanted to ask her, but she hurriedly turned off her PC, excused herself with early bus and went out taking her things.

Y/N has never allowed herself to cross any line between boss and worker, that's why Namjoon was so hesitant to make any move towards her. But now he felt like the small bond between them was fading and she was slipping out of his grasp, running away for unknown for him reasons. He won't be having any of this. Never.

}*{

Sun was no longer on the sky, when Namjoon grabbed his phone and dialed Y/N's number. He was sitting in his wide and luxorious apartment still distracted by his P.A behaviour. Outside started to rain, but he couldn't care less. She picked up almost immediatly.

"Yes Mr Kim?" He could swear that her voice was a little shaking in the beginnig.

"I'm sorry to calling you on that time, but I really need to adjust my schedule. I'm afraid that, I need your help with that. Also it's Friday and I want to do it immediately." It was all lies, but he would do anything, to have her in his apartment right now.

"It's all right boss, after all it's not that late. I will come to office with all my notes." She reassured him.

"There is no need for you to come to the office. I will send a driver, we'll meet in my apartment." He stated using his soft tone.

"I-... of course Mr. Kim." She corrected herself.

Then, he hung up. Namjoon knew where she was living due to workers files, he sent his driver and started to clear living room and thinking about credible reason, why he need to redo his schedule. Not even an hour has passed, when he suddenly heard a ringbell. He straightened his elegant shirt, fixed hair and glasses. On the coffee table was lying laptop with few papers scattered. Namjoon opened door with little smile.

She looked stunning with cheeks marked by cold, evening wind, hair free and little wild and shy demanor. Her outift was the same as in the office today. To be honest, he also had the same clothes. He let her inside and closed carefully door. Y/N started to taking her coat, when Namjoon's strong hands helped her.

"Thank you sir." She mubled grabbing her bag and peaking around a little.

"No problem, please make yourself home."

After taking off shoes, he lead her to coffee table with two armchairs in opposite sides. She sat down her and took out trusted notebook with some papers.

"Coffee, tea?" Namjoon asked looking at her.

"There is no need." She lifted her eyesight unsure.

"You should get warm after being outside and I am afraid that we will spend some time on this."

"Then tea, if it's possible." She said polietly.

He nodded and took two cups, little bags of herbs, each in different taste, then kettle full with hot water.

"Choose your favourite, but be careful it's really hot." Namjoon said and the took a seat. He already know her favourite one, but didn't want to scare her. As he suspected she picked it and put into a cup.

"I want to have free on Tuesday and Wednesday, I see we have a couple of meetings in those days." He started looking at his laptop's screen.

"Yes." Y/N checked her notes. "They are not so important, but the issue is that the Thursday and Friday are packed... and we wouldn't want to delay that stuff..."

"Plus there's a meeting with Mr. Lee, he's a important chairman." Namjoon added.

"Yes sir." Y/N agreed. "Maybe I could call him and put this meeting actually in next week, but in the early evening?"

"That would be perfect, I can pull a longer day of working. How about you?"

"Of course Sir."

They were able to clear schedule for incoming Tuesday and Wednesday, but making next week more busy. If Mr. Lee woukd agree, there would be a meeting at 6 a.m anf it meant whole day of working for both of them. P.A declared that during a weekend she is going to make necessary calls to make it real. Namjoon was stealing glances at her behind his laptop. It was now or never.

"Actually Miss L/N, are you sure, you want to come to work for full shift during my absence and then, in next week work till late hours?" He asked with the softest tone. "I'm not questioning your skills, I'm just concerned."

"I'm sure." She said slowly. "I'll prepare files for the meetings with Mr. Lee."

"Today you looked a little tired. I was actually hesitant to call you." He pressured a little.

"I-I'm perfectly fine. If it's everything, I'll be heading home. It's getting late." She muttered meekly.

Y/N started picking her things really fast, when she stood up, Namjoon was able to catch the sight of her eyes - all glossy. He also got up, but she already went to the door, clutching a belt from a bag in her hands.

"Wait!" CEO pleaded, but she didn't listen.

When P.A reached hand for a door handle, he caught her wrist and yanked, turning her around to face him. His worried features met tears streaming down her soft cheeks. Namjoon grabbed Y/N's arms to prevent any escape attempts.

"Tell me what happend." He demanded in tone mixed of authority and worry.

"It's so embarrassing..." She whispered trying to wipe out tears.

"You can trust me." Namjoon reassured and looked into her eyes intensly.

Because of that Y/N looked down and her voice was still but a whisper. "M-My boyfriend. He cheated on me, couldn't stand how do I look. He said that he need a real woman, then broke up with me."

Her knees gave up, seemed like a confession took her whole strength. Namjoon was able to catch falling woman, embracing her and then sitting on the floor. Small figure between his legs with cheek pressed to his wide and firm chest. CEO's blood has boiled because of her words. In addition to that, it looked like dam has bursted and now she was crying strongly, staining white shirt with hot tears. Y/N's body was shaking terribly, as if it was going to shatter into pieces without his strong arms around her waist.

"He's an idiot." Namjoon said seriously looking down a her.

"It wasn't a first time, I heard something like this..." she admitted quietly curling inside.

"Please don't care about that shit talking, it isn't true." He whispered softly.

"Then why did he do that? Why did he approach me when wasn't attracted to me in a psychical way?" Cute sniff reached his ears. "And why he had to marked it so harshly?"

"Because he's an idiot." Joon repeated with a frown, but she couldn't see it.

"It doesn't matter, even if again someone is going to like me, my looks'll scare them off."

Namjoon sighed quietly couldn't believe what he's hearing right now. His thumbs rubbed comfortly her sides in attempt to calm her down. After some time the tears slowed and quiet sniffes could be heard. Y/N's body relaxed a little, wasn't that tense as before, so Namjoon carefuly put an arm under her knees then lifted without any troubles. Really she was so light, he could carry her with one hand. His P.A squirmed a little realizing the situation.

"Don't worry, I won't drop you." He chuckled slighty.

"I should go home..."

"You can stay for a while, my driver will take you home once you are going to calm down."

Namjoon took her back to living room, where the coffee table was and put on a couch carefuly, then took off a jacket and covered her shoulders with it. He sat beside and pushed back on his nose glasses, hearing her taking a deep breath, then their eyes meet. Y/N froze and fixed her eyesight on a coffee table.

"Sir it's inappropriate. I really should go."

"If I want to be a good boss, I need to take a good care of my employees right?" Namjoon smiled showind his diamples.

Y/N nodded slowly, but hugged her knees, then rubbed cheeks to take rid off tears. He hand her tissue to wipe leftovers and smeared make up.

"I'll make another tea?"

"Yes please."

He got up and went to an open kitchen, to take a kettle with a hot water. When he came back, she looked more comfortable, sitting properly. Scent from his jacket hit her nose, plesant chocolate and honey made her relax a little.

"You feel better?" Joon asked sitting right beside after filling again her cup.

"Yes... thank you Sir."

"And please don't hate yourself or care when people are talking about your looks. You are beautiful." He marked with soft smile.

"You think I'm beautiful?" She clenched the cup harder looking at him meekly.

"Yes, I do miss L/N." Namjoon said with smirk. "Not only me, some people in the office too."

Y/N giggled slighty at that news and a warm feeling spread inside her chest following by blush on cheeks.

"Thank you sir."

"Please call me Namjoon."

"I can't." She sighed quietly.

"What if I want to?" He looked at her, his gaze calm but face serious. Being this close she realized how big her boss was with wide shoulders, chest and strong arms. She gulped slighty thinking about right words.

"Thank you sir, but I shouldn't brag about my private life and problems. It was unprofessional and will never happen again."

"I'm glad that you did. Sometimes those things can dig a hole in a soul and I could reassure you that you're in fact stunning."

Blush on her cheeks was now more reddish and visible, Namjoon smiled showing his diamples, but she looked away. He had none of it, grabbing her chin gently, to make her look at him. Y/N released a shaky breath looking at him with eyes wide open. The proximity was so much, everything become silent at once. She wanted to say something, but he just leaned in connecting thier lips in a sweet, slow kiss. Y/N could feel Namjoon's presence everywhere, his scent from jacket, warmness radiating from his body and soft lips on hers. When they broke away from kiss his forehead touched hers, deep breaths filling the silence.

"I can show you how beautiful you are." He said in raspy voice, causing her to shudder. "I can take care of you, if you just let me..."

Second kiss was more intense, knocking breath out of her lungs. Y/N could feel his scent causing her head to spin, his hands found a way back on her waist. She placed hers on his chest and pushed a little. He held back looking at his assistant if there wasn't anything else, she looked conflicted and hesitant, Joon chuckeled deeply.

"Focus on me." He said caressing her reddish cheek with such care.

Y/N nodded following him, kiss deepened and Namjoon managed to pulled her on his lap, her delicate hands on his firm shoulders looking for a support. His chest released a deep rumble and his lips moved to kiss her jaw gently then focused on neck, soft whimper escaped from her causing CEO to smirk against her hot skin. He kissed her pulse, feeling it fastened because of that.

"You smell so nice." A whisper which caused her to squirm a little.

Whole room was on fire, her skin was on fire it was almost unbearable. She pulled away calmly only to see Namjoon wetting his lips, sinful it was but so goddamn sexy.

"I need to use bathroom."

He nodded with little smirk. "Second doors on a left."

She left his lap a little awkwardly and put away his jacket - there was hot anyway. It was small bathroom only with a toilet, sink, small cabinet and shelf. Y/N removed the smeared make up completly and corrected it a little, also put cold water on her cheeks and forhead. She looked at herself in the mirror.

"What are you doing?"

It helped her calm a little and think what's next, she just make out with her boss for God's sake. Yes, he was handsome and attractive but also caring and kind. It was a mix hard to resist. After taking care of everything she left and closed bathroom's door quietly. The apartment was now quiet, she looked around unsure. Namjoon was standing in front of big windows, which were spreading from floor to roof. He turned back once he heard the doors and just rolled sleeves from his neat shirt up. Y/N really wanted to tear her eyes from his strong hands, but she felt like enchanted, also they felt very nice on her skin, so gentle but so firm.

"Come and see. View maybe isn't perfecy, but I like it." He stretched out his arm to her.

She almost tip toed to him and accepted warm hand, now fully aware of all the rings on his fingers. They were gold, matching expensive Rolex on the other hand. Outside was still raining but clouds formed into unseen shapes and figures, it was pretty dark, but skyscrapes lights were on. The apartment now dim, only lamp from living room and kitchen.

"I would prefer you to stay until rain'll pass."

"I don't want to be an inconvenience..."

"You can tell, that I enjoy your presence here miss L/N."

She looked away shying from him and again this damn blush crept on her cheeks. Namjoon chuckled once more and put a lost strand of her hair behind an ear.

"Where did we end?"

"I don't know mr. Kim." The whisper came out shaky and more quiet that she's expected.

"I should remind you."

He stepped closer, so close that again his warmness reached her to dive into it. This time only his left hand was on her waist, but right cupped her cheek so, so gently. Namjoon's diamples showed again and Y/N could swear that she was going to melt right there. This kiss was passionate, deep and a little messy, his hand moved to back of her neck. Content hum spread through a room when his assistant squeezed his biceps delicately. Soon again his lips moved to cover her jaw with kisses, Y/N was standing on her toes to reach any of his height. Namjoon smirked and didn't waste any time, his hands sneaked under her thighs and picked her up without any trouble, she squealed suddenly looking down at him, her arms wrapped around his neck. He almost grunted feeling that she's wearing stockings under the skirt. Hot kiss was pressed again to her pulse.

"Perfect." He commented.

"What are you doing?" She whispered looking at them both.

"I need you closer." Namjoon breathed into her skin.

Not long after he started walking with her towards next room, he almost kicked door open and soon Y/N was placed on soft mattres, carefuly, delicately. She pulled off - it was probably his bedroom, the bed was big and so soft, cusions in light grey color. Night stands on both sides of the bed, the lights on wall automatically went on, when they got inside. Namjoon stood up and pushed his hair back looking down below at her just like that. There were a lot of pillows she counted six at least.

"Wanna continue?"

Y/N rose on her elbows and nodded feeling hot everywhere. He smirked putting away glasses.

"I need to hear you pretty thing."

"Yes, I want to continue."

"God, you don't know what are you doing to me, when you are so fucking obedient." He took off his watch and wanted to do the same with golden rings.

"No, no let them stay. They're beautiful."

Namjoon nodded. "Any more wishes?"

Y/N shook her head and then he knelt on a bed touching her knees delicately, to spread her legs and moved between them smoothly, the skirt get in a way, but it rolled up to Y/N's midthights. She whimpered softly, putting head on a pillow. Joon didn't waste any time capturing her lips in deep kiss, but he fast moved down to jaw, neck and his skillful hands opened first button of chemise, each opening was followed by soft, butterfly kiss on her skin. Her fingers found a way into his hair, going through delicately, making him groan. Y/N squirmed when hot kiss landed between her breasts and Namjoon smiled, but continued till he reached skirt and last button.

"Can we take it off?" He asked playing with hem of the shirt and locking their eyes.

"Yes."

Namjoon helped her take it off and smiled admiring her body, much smaller comparing to his well built and large.

"Yet skirt needs to go and I'll be content. For a while." He smirked.

Y/N nodded and pulled down a zipper on a side. Then it was easy to get rid of the skirt. Namjoon sucked breath loudly. She was having matching, black underwear with stockings and stocking belt. His eyes wandered on her skin slowly, intensly and greedyly.

"You don't like it?" She asked with a worry then her gaze running at the side.

"I love it. Now I can't look at your pencil skirt in the same way." He chuckled lowly, causing her also to smile.

"Can I touch you?" Y/N asked in small voice her eyes trailing to his crips shirt, which also happen to have buttons.

"Touch me, bite me, scratch me. Anything you like angel." Namjoon grabbed her hand and put it on his chest.

She also started to opening his shirt, feeling only strong muscles beneath hot skin and felt need to touch it more and more. He smiled into her lips when all the buttons were opened and she slid down the shirt, slowly exploring now naked shoulders and arms. CEO hummed with satisfaction, his thumbs made a cricles on her ribs. Y/n giggled softly.

"It tickles."

"Sorry." He said into her collarbone, the shifted down reaching the panties and belt, placing both of his hands on her hips and pressed long, open mouthed kiss on a stomach, then looked up locking their eyes and rubbed the belt.

"I know how to take if off." He said proudly.

"You do?"

"It happens to be a very useful skill."

Namjoon carefully freed stockings from attachments and took off first one slowly looking only into Y/N's eyes and gave a kiss to her calf, doing the same with second stocking, then he turned material of the belt a little and opened it like a bra, then sent it flying across the room. She laughed covering lips with a hand, but still a shaky breath managed to escape after he pressed a finger between her breats and touched a bra.

"What about this?" He asked with a deep voice, eyes slowly clouding by desire.

Y/N bite her lip, then took it off all by herself. Automatically her arms went to cover nudity, but Namjoon grabbed her elblow gently.

"Don't. Relax." He put her hand at his neck, then leaned in to kiss exposed skin, when his other hand touched a nipple and started to play with it. Y/N moaned softly closing eyes.

Despite being wrapped by a pleasure she asked anxiously. "Aren't they too small?"

"I don't care, they are perfect."

She felt extra blush on her cheeks and smiled involuntarily.

"Actually, I love small, cute things." He smirked hearing her giggle.

He pressed to her, she could feel his hard dick rubbing her clit just perfectly and Namjoon released low groan kissing her passionately.

"I need to be inside you."

His hand slid down reaching her inner thighs and caressed skin gently. Y/N shudder and felt wetness gushing out of her.

"I need you inside me." She said quietly in response.

"Fuck."

Fuck indeed, they both got rid of her panties, she was so wet Namjoon grunted, when she started to undo his belt. He took off the expensive trousers along with boxers, going back between Y/N's thights. She reached for his dick and wrapped her fingers delicately around it. Now he shuddered almost closing eyes.

"No teasing." Namjoon marked hurriedly.

She nodded and he touched her slit, then hummed contently rubbing in lazy circles her clit and Y/N moaned shamelessly.

"Let me know if something isn't right."

She nodded and kissed him tenderly, he responded with soft grip on her waist looking between their bodies.

"You are so tiny..." he grunted and sighed at skin to skin contact. "I'll be gentle."

Comparing to a lot of things, she was indeed tiny. Namjoon leaned in kissing her passionately, when pushing slowly his hips, Y/N mewled sinfuly and clenched around him. He did it slowly to make it easier to accommodate to stretch and she was greatful for that. The room disappeard, there were only them pressed tightly to each other. When his hips were flush against hers Namjoon groaned and pressed hasty kiss on her neck. She tenderly wrapped hands around his shoulders and her eyes rolled into skull, she felt so full and so hot everywhere. It was like heaven. He pressed soft kiss to her collarbone and started to move slowly and she clenched again.

"Shit, how am I supposed to control myself, when you feel so good?" Namjoon asked and hissed, the pleasure was unmatched.

"Then don't. I trust you." A heated whisper fell into his ear.

Low groan escaped his throat and his pace went faster. He rose her thigh and wraped it around his hip now reaching deeper and earning the cutest whine. Namjoon also made sure that his hands aren't leaving her body, cupping Y/N's cheeks during a kiss or making lazy circles on her skin. Soon, her breath was fast and deep and he smirked connecting their foreheads gently.

"You're close angel?"

"Y-yes."

Namjoon just felt so right against her body, giving her all the pleasure she needed, but didn't ask. It was truly a new experience.

"You're so good for me darling."

"Harder p-please." Y/N mewled weakly and Namjoon released a shaky breath.

"Say that again.

"Please."

His thursts fastened and became more raw. The way her's velvet walls hugged his cock, made him twitch. Y/N could feel her skin tingling and limbs went numb when she started cumming. Namjoon sealed her lips in passionate kiss, feeling her small body shuddering strongly under him. The softes whimper left her lips muffled and he stopped, then cupped her cheeks with a sly smile.

"Oh God. It was amazing." Y/N stated with a deep blush.

CEO only chuckled looking straight into her eyes, which were a little misty.

"Do you want to go another round?" He asked shamelessly their noses touching.

"Yes." She giggled and kissed him.

He started to move again with slow, but deep strokes now. After first orgasm, she knew that second will follow soon and a particular brush against her sweet spot made her dig nails into his back, leaving crescent marks. A soft squeal left Y/N's lips when she felt Namjoon biting her shoulder, then licking it. His hips stutter when once again she clenched around him. He was close to high and twitching inside her.

"I'll take a pill." She whispered softly.

After these words his pace quickened and she moaned into his lips. The pressure was building fast in her abdomen and Namjoon was slapping his hips against hers, chasing his release.

"Say my name." He demanded with a grunt.

She looked at him little confliced but goddamnit they were fucking right now, it couldn't become more inappropriate.

"Come on."

"Namjoon." She breathed into his lips, causing him to shudder and take a wild pace.

Y/N came clenching hardly around him, seeing stars and after that he was breathing harshly and spilling himself inside her. Namjoon's head fell on her chest. They both were panting.

"Thank you... for showing me." She whispered after a while, still in a bliss.

He chuckled playfuly and lifted head to look at her. His lips reached her forehead with a tender kiss, he grabbed the duvet and covered them both, then rolled, having her on top of him. Y/N blinked clearly not understaning and fighting a exhaustion. Namjoon kissed her hair.

"Sleep, I'll wake you up."

"But..."

"Hush. It's okay, rest."

Y/N didn't protest more, carefuly putting head on his wide chest, then closing her eyes. She had to be really tired, because soon, the room was filled with quiet, but calm snores. Namjoon was looking at her with eyes shining, his fingers were making shapes on her back gently. He fell asleep with chest filled with a warm feeling to the brim.

Morning came and sunlight hit her face mercilessly. Y/N scruntched her nose and slowly opened eyes, covering them weakly by a hand. Her ears were filled by silence, she felt strong arms on her waist. Namjoon was still sleeping like an angel, so beautiful like that, his skin radiating in morning light. She smiled observing his face and shifting a little, to take off her weight from his body, only put leg over his waist, head still on his chest and hugging him around smooth waist. It was so peaceful, that she wanted to stay there forever. Soon Namjoon's eyes flickered and he woke up. His hand with golden rings brushed hair from her face then tenderly caressed her cheek. Y/N smiled lazy, opening eyes and looked at him with shyness.

"Good morning angel." His morning voice was deep and horse, then he pressed soft kiss to her temple.

"Good morning."

"Did you sleep good?"

"Like a baby." Y/N giggled softly.

"That's good to hear."

They were lying in a bed, comfortable and peaceful. She put her head back on his chest, listening to steady heartbeat, he was lazily drawning shapes on her back. It was Saturday so they could stay like this.

"Are you hungry? If I remember correctly, you didn't eat any supper yesterday."

"Maybe a little and you have right, I didn't."

"I'm not the best cook, but let's do some breakfast."

Y/N nodded and sat on the bed looking for her clothes from an yesteday. She wrapped duvet around her and didn't see that Namjoon actually couldn't tear his eyesi from her.

"Wait." He stood up then put on his briefs and walked to wardrobe. He picked fresh, but casual shirt and turned back to her. Y/N blushed heavily at his idea, but nodded and accepted it. She put it on, it was so big that it reached around her knees.

"Thank you." She smiled softly.

He grabbed her hand, so small and lead her to the kitchen. He made her tea, when she picked up ingredients for a vegetable salad.

"Would you like some toast?" He asked unsure scratching his nape.

"Yes, do you have any jams?"

"Of course, unfortunately I know someone who hasn't." He responded with a smirk.

She looked at him questioningly, but he brushed it off. Once they sat down and started to eat, silence filled the apartment. Namjoon was looking only at her, causing her cheeks to go reddish once more.

"Can we see each other tomorrow?" He asked looking at her carefuly.

"I- I have things to do..."

"It's okay, I know this was... unexpected." Namjoon smirked and she giggled.

"Unexpected, but very nice." She said with shyness in her voice.

"Great to hear that."

They ended up talking casualy about small things, but after a breakfast she went to picked up her things. Namjoon insisted her to take a shower and meanwhile he changed clothes into something more appropriate, but not so elegant as yesterday. There was casual shirt followed by jeans. He was tempted a little to enter a bathroom, but somehow resisted this idea. Feeling Y/N smell like his shampoo made his stomach squeeze. He exhaled loudly and smiled widely.

"I'll drive you."

"There's no need I..."

"That's not under negotiation." Namjoon stated grabbing his keys.

Again he grabbed her hand and they went out of the apartment. His car was in underground parking, they talked a little, she was asking about living in such area. Y/N gulped seeing very luxorious Mercedes, but he only chuckled.

"It won't bite you."

He opened a door for her as gentleman, then sat on a driver's seat. Engine roared coming back to live. Whole drive his hand was lying on Y/N's tight and comfortable silence was filling the space inside. He parked under her apartment and looked at her with a smile. She smiled back unsure.

"So we'll see each other in Monday?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"Perfect."

He cupped her cheeks and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Y/N melted into it and it was very hard to break off. Namjoon smiled on her lips, then parted away.

"Have a nice weekend and be careful."

"You too Namjoon." She said as goodbye, then left the car.

He inhaled deeply and wide grin appeared on his face. He made sure that she reached the flat, then drove off.

}*{

The weekend was passing very slowly in Namjoon's perspective. He had to hold himself to not call Y/N during Saturday, but he allowed himself on Sunday. She picked up and they had a brief talk, she was in hurry. He couldn't focus on and get her out of his mind. Her lingering scent in a bedroom didn't help either. The same day he had meeting with the boys but refused to elaborate why he had such a good humor, even if Jungkook was annoying as hell. Also the images of him hiving her on his office desk were haunting his mind. Finally the Monday has come and he was in office point 8 a.m, but his P.A was nowhere to see. Namjoon put on his best suit to look amazing. His hand was decorated by rings she liked that much. He shifted on his armchair and frowned. Inside got his manager with a thick layer of papers.

"Sir it's good to see you this early. We can look up at candidates."

"Candidates?" He repeated unsure.

"Oh yes, as far as I know miss Y/N L/N has filled a resignation letter due to personal reasons. She said she has informed you before."

Namjoon has opened his mouth then closed it, processing what he just heard. His jaw clenched along with fists and for a while he was seeing only red. He excused himself and stormed out of the office, almost whole drive cursing the whole existance, he parked under her flat and went inside jumping over two stairs at once. He had the addres remembered since first day, when he reached right door, didn't hasitate to press a bell button. Softly 'coming' could be heard behind and the doors opened slowly revealing Y/N in home clothes - shorts and small shirt exposing stomach. Her shoulders dropped and fingers started to fidget anxiously.

"May I come in?" He asked with serious voice.

"Y-yes." She stuttered.

Y/N moved to let him in, then closed doors. Apartment was small but so cozy, he could spot bathroom doors, kitchen in front of exit, small bedroom and salon. He turned around, almost trapping her between him and doors. She leaned on looking at floor.

"Explain." Namjoon demanded sounding almost desperately.

"It's my fault." Y/N confessed honestly. "I enjoyed our... meeting, but I cannot force myself to work with you. It's unfair and wrong."

"I can be discreet! And it doesn't explain why you left without a word." Namjoon frowned deeply.

"I... you... I know my place in line. The office is filled with rumors, I'm none to judge but... if I was just another woman to have a nice night with, that was a right thing to do, because it meant something to me." She whimpered helplessly.

"I would ask you out first day, when your shy smile charmed me, but I knew that would scare you off." He said slowly.

Her breath hitched inside and eyes opened widely, but she shook her head violently.

"You can't be serious."

"I am."

She lifted her eyesight at him. Jaw clenched and gaze focused only on her. He looked sincere even determinated. Y/N couldn't even say anything, because he cupped her cheeks, pinned to a wall and connected their lips, putting in that kiss all his emotions. When they stopped, their foreheads were still touching.

"I need you at work and I need you in my private life, I don't care what people will say, you are coming back." Namjoon marked leaving no place to argue.

"But-"

"No buts." He cut her off. "I can be fair towards my employees and just because we're going to date, that don't mean I'm going to favor you. Even without that you are doing a great job."

Y/N smiled a little. "You really think that?"

"Yes."

She nodded and hugged him putting her head on his wide chest. He kissed her hair tenderly and wrapped arms securely around her waist. Maybe his brother were right and one move changed everything? Anyway it was worth waiting those three years. Now Y/N was safe and sound in his arms forever.

#bts namjoon #bts ff #bts smut #bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #soft yandere #ceo!namjoon

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shepherds-of-haven · 10 days

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hi!! So. i like writing for Trouble and my MC but i spend so much time clowning on him and making up silly scenarios that now i have no idea how to write him actually catching on to one of the moves she makes and what kinds of moves he cant explain away. Please do you have any tips or crumbs to throw my way to help? I need to write him making out sloppy style w my girl PLEASE!!

Anyway I really love shoh and I think about Trouble and my MC almost every day so tysm for the lovely gift of him <3 i also wrote this ask intending to be silly but if it sounds demanding or rude i am SO sorry I would never demand anything of u and will love anything you may kr may not respond with whether that be in 17 minutes or 17 years 🩵

Aw, thank you so much for this sweet message, it made me so happy to receive! 💖 Please don't worry about sounding rude at all, your words were so kind and made me grin ear-to-ear, so thank you!

To answer your question, I like this excerpt from the old novels to explain how I think Trouble can be in a romance: I usually envision him being casual or friendly and light-hearted, and then catching onto something--some shift in the mood or a lingering glance--and then kind of abruptly shifting into a more intense version of himself. It's not a side of himself he shows very often--we're mostly exposed to the goofy, jocular Trouble, but that 'intense' dominant Trouble is there, lurking underneath it all, and that's kind of the part that he struggles with because it's also tied up in his ferocious past and his temper. It's the same Trouble who can go from smiling and laughing with his friends in a bar to completely unsmiling and intimidating when he overhears some guy being a dickhead to a server nearby, except obviously in these scenarios it's sexual/romantic tension he's responding to (even if he doesn't fully know it's that) rather than regular like situational tension. I don't know if you have access to the alpha build, but the scene in the cave in Chapter 7 when he's warming up MC's hands or the abrupt change from "yay we're having fun" to "something just happened" in his latest day off (when Cordy flirts with you) are good examples of this, too! This sort of stilted "everything is great 95% of the time and then 5% of the time something happens and he can't control it" that's impeding him and MC's easy friendship is what's really throwing Trouble for a loop; he starts to feel guilty and confused and tormented about it because he thinks he's the only one feeling these things and getting in the way of what should be a smooth companionship, so he's just... feeling a lot of things and not knowing what to do with them, lol.

So I imagine 'heated makeout' tends to happen during one of these sudden changes to 'intense Trouble,' when he catches on to something he can't ignore--but I generally don't think it happens because of an outright flirtation or hint of MC's, because he can usually just laugh those off as them just joking around, so he doesn't really respond to those like one might expect? He's dazzlingly good at not catching on to things like that (short of an outright serious confession), so maybe that's why you're having trouble imagining it! I tend to imagine it happening entirely randomly, during some moment of unthinking intimacy, like in the cave in Chapter 7 or during a mission when emotions are high or something like that. Here's another example of what I'm thinking of!

...Or something like that, idk lol! Obviously take all of this with a huge grain of salt and don't let me influence you; however you write Trouble and MC's romance is fantastic! Hopefully some of these tips help you in some way!

#Shepherds of Haven #Trouble #Trouble Alder #fluff #novels #original novels #novel #original novel #writing

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marmot567 · 23 days

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bitter orange — okkotsu yūta [1/3]

pairings. okkotsu yūta + f! reader/original character (main); past!orimito rika + f!reader; past!okkotsu yūta + orimito rika warnings/themes. mentions of death, jealousy, hints of obsession and possession. just a lil dark romance practice (which is barely any dark romance tbh who am i kidding) sprinkled with food motifs but i dont know what im doing im just here for the vibes :P mostly sfw with nsfw themes but nothing sexual bc im too scared to go down that dark path (also no use of y/n bc i started writing with an original name and it unfortunately stuck lawl... can be treated as either or it doesnt matter tbh i cant write anything outside of 2nd person anwyay) word count. 2.8k words nothing too crazy xd playlist. knuckle velvet, ethel cain; velvet ring, big thief; pure, cigarettes after sex; only in the dreams, the marias; be my mistake, the 1975; mary, alex g next

it’s been a long time since i have seen my beloved. the moss has grown on that abetachibana tree

PART ONE: ichigo daifuku

Gojō Satoru tells you that love is the most twisted curse of them all.

He had said it in passing after your first solo mission, right as you were entering the car back to Jujutsu Tech before talking your ear off with his lame jokes. The mission had consisted of exorcizing a curse that had persistently haunted an abandoned apartment complex in Omotesandō, assigned to you by the higher-ups in accordance with your newly promoted rank as a Grade 2 sorcerer, having decided that a Grade 1 was doable enough for someone of your caliber. The curse itself wasn’t anything special, though, only repeating gargled confessions of its love to some ‘Chiyo-chan’—whoever she was—the whole time you were dodging its attacks, which was incredibly annoying. You liked your battles in silence, quick and succinct, but curses make that difficult to achieve.

Gojō muses it could have been a past lover, this Chiyo-chan—its love for her having cursed itself. You didn’t really care. If you keep up the good work, complete your required missions and get another recommendation, you could be ranked a Semi-Grade 1 by your second year, then a Grade 1 by your third and nothing else after that because unless you were someone like Gojō Satoru, then you are capped forever at Grade 1.

“So anyway—snacks you like?” said sorcerer asks, finally done with his previous tale. Something about an old coworker. “Mochi, senbei, or taiyaki? Personally, I'm a mochi ice cream type of guy!”

You look at him.

“Why are you here again?”

“... Is your memory that small, Ume? I was proctoring you,” he tuts, mouth turned downwards. “Congrats on the promotion, by the way.”

You shrug. “Ichigo daifuku is good, I guess.”

He smiles, wryly.

“You’re joking, right?”

The building facing your childhood home had been home to Orimito Rika, an unsuspecting property with a decent front yard and the occasional street cat or two often shooed away by her irate grandmother. “Mean granny,” you’d often call her, the insult drowned out by your hushed giggles as you played with your dolls. Rika wouldn’t say anything about it, wouldn’t dare verbally agree with you, but she would always nod her head down, the corners of her lips turned up too high.

You didn’t particularly hate the old woman, but there was a certain kind of satisfaction to saying it behind her back after all the times you’ve caught her looking at her granddaughter in unbridled scorn, your own little form of revenge. You could never understand how her only remaining family could look at her like that, not when Rika was so beautiful and kind; like the cherry blossoms during spring, falling gently along with the wind. Sure, she could be a little cunning at times, and none of the other kids at school liked her because “something’s odd about her, can’t you just hang out with us instead?”—but that’s what makes her interesting, right?

Rika isn’t weird, she’s pretty, and you’re the bee drawn to her. She’s only older than you by a year, ten instead of nine, but she always played with you, taught you how to make flower crowns at the park, and when you walked home from school she’d always hold your hand. Her smile is blindingly bright, the sound of her voice a song you couldn’t stop listening to. Selfishly, you wish it would always be the two of you together; playing with your dolls, walking home with your hands intertwined.

But when she came back from the hospital, so did Okkotsu Yūta.

You could never see what she saw in him; he was short and just a little bit pathetic, always trailing after her like a lost puppy at first. You could push him off the swing and he'd move on with a sniffle, the kind to give up the plastic shovel even though he desperately needed it to finish his sand castle because he didn’t want to fight a girl. He smiled shyly and hid his hands behind his back, looking at you like he was looking for your approval. Of course, you never gave him the time of day, because it felt like he had stolen Rika—your Rika. It was supposed to be just you and her, but that wasn’t the case anymore. Now there was Okkotsu Yūta, who held Rika’s other hand after school, who took away her attention from you so easily.

“He’s so cute, isn’t he?” she asks often, a light blush dusting her face.

“I guess,” is your reply.

“Ne,” she calls, presenting to you a small, black box. You look at it in apprehension, wincing when she eventually opens it. “What do you think of this ring? It was my mom’s. I’m gonna give this to Yūta-kun, do you think he’ll like it?”

The ring was immensely simple, a silver-colored band with a small diamond in front, glinting under the light. Nevermind the fact that it was too big for a child’s fingers to fit in, Rika presented it to you as if it held all the answers to the world. Although her parents were dead, and she had definitely stolen it from her grandmother’s dresser, the ring spoke full of promise. When she takes it out of the box and lets you inspect it, it feels heavy.

“... You really like him, don’t you, Rika-chan?” you ask, quietly.

Rika looks at the stupid piece of jewelry, painfully smitten.

“Mhm,” she affirms. “I really like Yūta-kun. I want to be with him forever! Of course, I like you too, Ume-chan. You and Yūta-kun are my favorite people in the world!”

You close the box, handing it back to her. When Rika looks at you expectantly, you realize then that you could never bring yourself to take that happiness away from her.

The koinobori flies.

“It’s so pretty!” Rika exclaims, eyes wide and staring up at the sky where the huge, windsock carp moves around. It’s bathed in all sorts of colors—from red to blue to white to green—dancing along the azure expanse in commemoration of Children’s Day. The weather is just right, not too hot nor too cold, and the wind caresses your skin gently, the sun not too harsh. It makes the color of Rika’s hair shine in all the right ways, adds more sparkle in her already bright eyes. She’s wearing a yellow sundress, a nice change from her usual blue one. The cream-colored hat you let her borrow covers her face with the shade, but her smile remains bright and blinding. She looks pretty.

She gives you all of her ichigo daifuku, and shares Yūta’s snacks. She doesn’t even like chimaki.

“Are you sure, Rika-chan?” you ask, looking at the two sweets in your hands.

She beams. “You like them, don’t you?”

You keep them with you until the end of the event.

The day passes by incredibly fast, your little trio having exhausted yourselves from running around the park alongside the other children. Yūta chases Rika around the park, and you watch them squeal and laugh at each other and hold hands. You watch them take a nap under the shade, their pinkies intertwined, and you watch as the ugly color of green blinds your eyesight. You leave them be.

Sometimes, you wish you’re the colorful koinobori flying in the sky. You’d let Rika hold on to you, let her fly and hear her amused laugh as the wind tickles her skin. Sometimes, you wish Yūta slapped the ring away from her hands when she handed it to him. Wish he stomped it on the ground and at the same time stomped on her heart. Wish he didn’t take it with a huge smile and agree that he’d marry her when they get older; he’s not the one who’d wait long lines just to get her the best ichigo daifuku, not the one who’d jump at the other kids when they so much as think of insulting her, and he won’t be the one who’d choose to stay with her when she’s all gray and old cause he’s a boy, and boys would never do that.

Sometimes, you wish he never liked her at all—because he never deserved her in the first place.

Okkotsu Yūta could never love Orimito Rika like you.

He sits beside you at lunch.

Rika’s been bedridden for the whole week, which subsequently ruins your week. Yūta doesn’t seem to mind her absence all that much since he doesn’t see her a lot during classes anyway, but they’re supposed to be engaged. He should always be thinking of her, should be acting as miserable as you even at the unripe age of nine. He looks too okay with her absence when he shouldn’t be.

“What’s this?” you ask, pointing at the small bag of snacks he had placed on the cover of your bento.

“Hm?” he looks up. “Oh, it’s norimaki senbei.”

“... And?” you prod.

He tilts his head. “You don’t want it?”

“... I don’t want it.”

He looks at you thoughtfully.

“But you like them, don’t you?” he asks though he’s acting like he already knows, like you’ll take it regardless of what you say. It’s annoying.

You look at the seaweed-wrapped rice crackers—the stupid norimaki senbei—in mild contempt. “Why are you giving it to me?”

Yūta’s smile is small, knowing. “Because you don’t like sweets.”

You frown.

She’s a sweet girl.

You think of Orimoto Rika like that because it’s true—she smiles sweetly, she speaks sweetly, and she likes sweet things. She tells you that her favorite snack is ichigo daifuku, the very same confection you always begged your parents to buy for you just so you could share them with her. It pays off all the time because then she’d look as sweet as the daifuku itself, her cheeks as red as the fruit within it. She also likes hanami dango, but she doesn’t like the green part because she doesn’t really like the subtle taste of yomogi, so you eat the rest for her because she doesn’t want to waste it. She likes cold tea instead of hot, sweet instead of savory, like yuzu iced tea or bubbly ramune in comparison to the nutty taste of hōjicha. When you go to the store, she always gets the kompeitō with some random anime character on the packaging because those were the “cutest kind of kompeitō,” and Rika likes cute things.

She also likes the color pink, but when you ask her what her favorite color is she’d say it’s blue. It’s blue not because she wears that blue dress all the time, but blue because it’s the color of Okkotsu Yūta’s eyes, bright and round and always looking at her. Rika likes it that way—she likes how Okkotsu Yūta is always looking at her with his blue eyes, unwavering and full of adoration for her and her only.

You think Orimito Rika is a sweet girl, but sometimes she’s more than that. Sometimes, when the other kids get brave enough to drag you away from her, tell you to stop hanging out with her, they say it’s because Rika doesn’t like anyone else but Okkotsu Yūta.

Sometimes, when they tell you that, you wonder if Rika liked you at all, way before Okkotsu Yūta came into the picture.

But most of the time, you don’t really care. Even if Rika didn’t like you, you’d still like her. Even if she’d only have her eyes set on Okkotsu Yūta with his stupid blue eyes and his stupid norimaki senbei and stupid chimaki that he shared with her on the fifth of May, you’d still like her because she’s Rika—beautiful, kind, and wonderful Rika.

She has things she doesn’t like, too, such as other people but never Yūta-kun or Ume-chan! She likes it when people compliment her and praise her looks and give her free stuff like ramune or ichigo daifuku or Sailor Moon-themed kompeitō from the store, but sometimes she tells you that she dislikes this certain group of girls from Yūta’s class, dislikes the boy assigned as your seatmate, her homeroom teacher, the “weird” guy who works at the konbini a street over, and dislikes it even more when her grandmother looks at her and tells her she killed her own father without even saying anything at all.

You know all those things because you know Orimito Rika. You like her even if she holds intense dislike for the people outside her circle, people who tick her off just a little for you to see her smile crack at the edges and go stiff, the little twitch of her brown eyes, and most importantly, you still like her when all she wants in the world is the attention of the boy who wears her deceased mother’s ring.

You’ll always want sweet girls like her.

“Where’s Rika-chan?”

“Her grandma won’t let her go out today,” Yūta says, sitting next to you on the bench. “So it’s just you and me.”

He says it dejectedly, but it’s not enough for you. If he was really sad, then he’d be as sad as you are, so you start packing your belongings. “I’m leaving, then.”

He startles, standing up. “Huh? W–wait! Don’t leave just yet!”

“But Rika-chan’s not here,” you frown. “There’s no point in hanging out today.”

He falters, looking down at the ground.

“Even if she isn’t here, we can still play together…” he offers, looking up at you timidly. “We’re friends, too, aren’t we?”

The green-eyed monster stares at the silver chain wrapped around his neck, the ring acting as its pendant tucked underneath his shirt—like an unattainable treasure trapped inside a chest with the key thrown away somewhere you cannot find it. We’re not friends, the monster says with a snarl, stay away from me.

If there is one thing you know, then it’s that you have never wanted to be friends with Okkotsu Yūta, not after he took everything from you. He can butter you up by sticking to you during class and sitting next to you at lunch and even offering you some of his not-ichigo daifuku, not-yuzu iced tea, and not-colorful anime-themed kompeitō but you will and have never liked him for the green-eyed monster will always sit on your shoulder so long as he wears that ring on his person, a physical manifestation of his promise with Rika. Your Rika, even if that’s not really the case.

You will never like Okkotsu Yūta, because—because he—

“... What’re we even gonna do?” you ask, slowly.

He immediately brightens up.

“… Wanna get ice cream?” he offers. “There’s a new flavor I wanna try!”

His suggestion does not entice you at all, but when he stands there with an outstretched hand waiting for you to take it, like it’ll matter if you reject him, you find yourself at a crossroads. But you make your decision soon enough. Like it’ll matter, like the green-eyed monster isn’t there, staring.

“Okay,” you say, moving past him to start walking. He blinks incredulously at the blatant rejection before gathering himself and following after you, a prep to his step regardless of your actions.

You try to ignore the warmth of his body next to yours.

He’s too close.

“Yūta-kun’s birthday is in a few days,” Rika announces, lying on your spare futon. “Did you get him anything?”

You didn’t. “... Yeah.”

“Really? What is it?” she cranes her neck to face you. “What’d you get him?”

She doesn’t want your gift being better than hers, it checks out. “Um… just a toy. A garbage truck.”

“Oh, okay,” she turns back to face the ceiling. “I made him a scrapbook with photos of us. I worked really hard on it… do you think he’ll like it?”

“He’ll like anything you give him.”

She’s already given him a ring—what else could compare to that?

Rika smiles. “I guess… you’re right.”

Soon enough, she goes to sleep, breathing softly beside you as your fan fills the silence of the night. You continue staring at the ceiling, making out the little dents despite the lack of light. You squeeze the hand that holds your under the cover, before closing your eyes.

You hear her softly breathe on a steady beat alongside the fan whirring in the corner, and you close your eyes, squeezing her hand tighter underneath the covers of your too-close futon.

You’ll have to ask your parents for some money tomorrow.

“Rika-chan isn’t here again,” Yūta says dejectedly. “Her granny’s too strict.”

“She hates her,” you say quietly.

Yūta looks at you, confused. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing. Your birthday’s coming up soon, what are you doing that day?”

“Uwah—you remember?”

“Rika-chan told me.”

“Oh, well,” he smiles sheepishly, “we have school that day, but after that I’ll be celebrating at my house. I’m thinking of just inviting Rika-chan and you over… um, so, will you come?”

“I’ll go if Rika-chan is going.”

He blinks, before a smile blooms on his face. “Okay! I’ll see you, then.”

It happens when you aren't there.

It never should have happened at all.

Orimito Rika is pronounced dead at the age of eleven, her body unrecognizable under the heavy weight of a blue truck.

#yuuta okkotsu x reader #jjk #yuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen #jjk okkotsu #jjk x reader #yuuta okkotsu x you #yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x you #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta okkotsu smut #jjk imagines

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periprose · 11 months

Note

I don't know if my ask got 'eaten' or not, but I did send it while I was on the road so I may have screwed it up anyway. My ask is based on your reblog of the 3 word sentences and if you care to, it's a twofer based plot: numbers 12 and 18 (just do it and you look lost) because I am a dithering decision maker except!! when I am going somewhere in which case my overconfidence gets me in trouble, something Peter knows too well himself. Love your writing!

unfortunately it did but I love this prompt so thank you for resending it!

Prompts can be found here

Peter is fairly sure that he's the one who's always late to everything. Every single seminar for this new Oscorp tech breakdown, he's the one who's five minutes late, and he swears it's not his fault.

It's just that he always happens to run into Spider-Man duties. He always finds another old woman who needs to cross the street, or a newspaper stand that has just been stolen from, and then after saving the day, he can make time towards catching the next subway train to Oscorp and hopefully run up the stairs, through the door, into the lobby, elevator, and then to the board room with a minute to spare. It always works out better in his head.

He doesn't understand why Harry needs him there. Peter knows technology stuff like the back of his hand– he already understood what the seminar leader who oversaw the development of the new tech was saying halfway through the meeting, and basically put the concluding points together before the meeting was even over.

Peter is nothing if not a good friend. Or employee who will be sent off with a strict warning if he doesn’t at least try.

This time, though? Peter has just made it to the subway station, and his glance catches onto a woman with a muted blue handbag, looking mostly competent and professional in a blazer, staring at the map, very obviously confused. He decides to be a good civilian and take a moment to help her. Just as Peter Parker, good guy who has two extra minutes to spare. Not because she happens to be a little more pleasant to look at than the rest of the passerby. She does really have bright eyes, though, and the way they catch onto every written detail of the map has Peter wanting those eyes on him.

Unfortunately, as she’s dithering and Peter approaches a little too slowly, about to work up the nerve to ask if she needs help, she suddenly mutters “Just do it! Who cares…” with a sudden bout of confidence, and she walks off towards the train heading North. The same train Peter is due to take.

Peter is kind of elated by this, even though he knows he’s a total dork and he doesn’t actually have the courage to speak to her. Even though Harry makes life sound like a romance movie– that apparently all it takes is the right conversation starter– Peter knows he can’t manage it. He’ll trip over his words and make the wrong jokes, and she’ll give him a polite nod while secretly dialing 911.

He’s just happy to have a commute crush to stare at.

The southbound train arrives from the opposite side of the road, and loudly beeps as the doors open.

Peter’s Spider-Sense goes off and he sees that a bunch of people are starting to exit the train, right into the poor woman who gets turned around a bunch of times and then looks utterly lost. Helpless. Eyes widening with the telltale fear of someone who doesn’t know where they’re going.

Well, we can’t have that, can we? Peter decides to saunter up to her and be her hero of the day.

You are so horrible with making decisions sometimes. Unless, of course, it’s taking a new journey somewhere, with directions you’re not exactly familiar with– for some reason leaping into it headfirst works better, cements it into your brain better if you have to travel around these parts around later, and you usually have the time to figure it out.

Of course, this time you’re late. This time, when you need to present a great big presentation at Oscorp, where your big new tech job is, you’re late, and you had to be overconfident about figuring out the directions.

God, couldn’t you have just asked for help?

As you’re beginning to spiral– was it the north train, or the south, will this crowd ever dissipate properly, and is there time to look at your notes for your presentation on the train?– someone taps your shoulder.

“Hey.” A friendly looking guy with warm brown hair, and eyes, is staring at you, not unkindly. He pulls you aside, out of the crowd, and you’re thankful– but a little wary.

“You look lost. Are you good?” The man has to lean in closer to you, and kind of yell-speak over the crowd, who are finally moving away to the above ground.

“Uh… No. I’ll be honest.” You cross your arms and huff, glad that someone could see that you needed help, and you feel a little happy that your saviour happened to be a smart, handsome guy who doesn’t look particularly judgemental, and you pull out your phone from your bag. “I’m trying to get to–”

“Oscorp?” He reads your phone and blinks, and then looks affronted that he spoke so soon. “Sorry. I just read your phone screen– I know that’s not proper etiquette. I’m going there too.”

“Uh-huh.” You fix your eyes on him, and Peter feels a funny twinge in his heart– something warm and soft as you size him up, making your own teasing assumptions of him. You half-smirk. “How do I know I can trust you? That you won’t just lead me to a random dungeon full of murdered women?”

You feel that you might’ve scared him off– you always come off a little too strong.

“Uhhhh, I was going to say I probably don’t look like a serial killer, but then again, you never know as a woman, right? Plus that’s some unnecessary bias and profiling on my part.” Peter fishes around in his pocket for his Oscorp ID, snorting at your joke, but also knowing that you’re not wrong to be concerned. “See? I’m Peter Parker. One of Oscorp’s biotech engineers.”

“Alliterative. Very cool.” You smile at him genuinely, glad to see that he is worth trusting, and he’s about to say something when the northbound train comes in.

“Hey, that’s us. Just two stops and then we’re at Oscorp.” Peter lets you walk ahead of him into the train, and you do so with some speed.

“Nervous?” He asks as the train starts going. He’s holding onto the loop for stability, while you lean against an arm rail. The train is kind of packed– and Peter is just a teeny bit happy for it, since it means he gets to stand a little close to you. He’s not trying to be a creep– you’re just cute.

“Very.” You shake out your hands, trying to chill out, and then reach inside your bag for your cue cards. “I’m starting out as a software developer– working on a genome editing program– and I’m doing a presentation on that today.”

“Oh, I’m in that seminar too. Although usually it’s just some dude presenting… not exactly someone like you.” Peter immediately facepalms, hiding in his hands for a moment before shaking his head, brown hair flopping about. “Sorry, I just mean… he’s not a cute girl, you know?”

Nice going, Parker. Peter groans and his hands remain on his face now, totally embarrassed by what he’s said.

“Oh–” You turn to him, but Peter interrupts you first.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t mean your looks are everything– I know how hard it is to be a woman in STEM, to get judged on things that have nothing to do with your credentials–” Peter swallows and sighs. “I’m not saying you were hired for your face– I’m sure you’re a very intelligent person.”

Peter feels your hand hesitantly touch his and move them, so he can get a look at your expression. You don’t look upset, just flattered, maybe with a hint of a laugh crossing your eyes.

“Hey, don’t worry. I didn’t take it that way. Good to know you’re not a typical STEM bro, though.” You read through your notes again, and Peter feels a bit of relief. “Thanks, by the way. You’re a cute guy too.”

You don’t know where exactly that came from, maybe an unexpected bout of courage bolstered by the adrenaline from your oncoming presentation, but it’s not like it’s false– this guy is very cute and you know you’re going to struggle if you have to work with him. You can’t quite look at Peter for the rest of the train ride, staring out the window. You catch a little grin on his face.

“So, genome editing, huh? That’s actually part of my work right now. Except more in the lab at the moment– working on synthesising frog DNA.” Peter shudders jokingly, and you laugh as you walk with him.

“Yeah, I’m basically the one who made the software program you’ll be using from now on. I just gotta make it easy for you guys to understand.” You inhale, and Peter can see that you’re still really nervous about your presentation.

“Hey.” He gives you a comforting squeeze of the shoulder, in front of the building. “You got this.”

“Really?” You look up at him, bright eyes glassy with sudden fears. “But you don’t really know me, right? For all you know, I’m going to run out of the room with stage fright.”

“No way.” Peter grins, self assuredly. “You wouldn’t be talking to an almost stranger if that was true.”

“I mean… kind of true. I just don’t want to mess up.” You sigh and pinch your forehead, thinking it over.

“Okay, how about this?” Peter decides on something silly, but something that also allows him to shoot his shot. When else was a pretty software developer going to just fall into his lap like this?

He ignores that image.

“If you don’t ace this presentation: who cares? People might be a little awkward about it, but they’re just people. It’s not a big deal.” Peter starts, and he sees you visibly brighten a little at that. “But if you do, you win something real special: a coffee date with Peter Parker.”

“Oh, I do?” You snort at his blatant flirting, but you can’t help but feel better with that potential date hanging over your shoulder. Peter Parker happens to be very sweet, at least so far, and you want to see just how far this could go. “Okay. I like the sound of that, but acing this presentation probably involves being there on time…”

You and Peter run through the lobby into the elevator– and you swallow your fears as you enter the boardroom, apologizing to the many developers and technicians about having to make them wait.

At the end of your very enlightening presentation– Peter knew there had to be no way he knew everything about this particular software since he had never tried it yet, and the fact that the original presenter seemed to be kind of vague on the details made it seem simpler than it was– you smile at him, and Peter grins back, knowing that he’s just won himself a date with you.

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gepardling · 11 months

Text

late bloomer w/ gepard.

desc. : Am i projecting a little? Gepard's reaction to falling in love feels like something I would do... I might make a 2nd part. (wc : 1.5k)

tags / cw : sfw, afab!reader, use of she/her pronouns, just fluff, mostly Gepard's emotional state, glaring romance trope if u can spot it, tried proofreading but i'm sleepy

index : part 2

Gepard, being a man driven by duty, has structured his entire life around fulfilling the expectations placed upon him. To be a shield. To protect the people. To fight for Belobog. This strong sense of responsibility has created a wall between his work and personal life, leading him to prioritize work above all else. The casual word for this would be a "workaholic," but Gepard vehemently denies this term if anyone were to use it against him.

He was NOT a workaholic, insisting that he had other hobbies. For instance, he enjoys cooking and tending to plants. Though he’d be too shy to really admit it, so does it even count? More often than not, he would be training if he's off duty anyways, driven by that same old galvanized stubbornness that's been bred into him by the Landau bloodline. Serval, his sister, had even called him out on it before, making repeated attempts to encourage him to relax.

"Gepard, you just can't seem to appreciate the delicate and fun things in life anymore…" Today’s topic: Women.

It's no secret that the Silvermane Captain was… To put it lightly, woefully unskilled regarding matters of the heart. In fact, he seems to avoid romantic entanglements altogether, putting off his responsibility to marry and carry on the Landau bloodline. This hesitancy was Gepard's sole reservation, yet he couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason behind it. He just wasn’t too focused on that aspect of his life right now, or so he’d convinced himself for years.

"Is that a streak of rebellion? Oh, heavens, no! Shame on you, Gepard! What would father think of your reluctance to do what's expected of you," Serval quipped, barely finishing her dramatic display before emitting the most irritating chortle that had ever graced Gepard's cochleas.

"What do you expect me to do? Drag some girl off the street?" He retorted, almost annoyed at his sister's amusement over his predicament.

"NO, silly. God, you're so serious all the time. Loosen up! That's not how dating works. No girl would want to go out with you if you're so stuck up about it."

Sure, Serval was only joking. Yet, those words made his heart clench a little, ringing painfully through his mind. Was he really just too serious? It felt as if he had abruptly become painfully conscious of his own personality, prompting a reassessment of his life up until this point. Serval observed a distant gaze in his eyes, and by now it was evident that this deeply troubled her younger brother.

"Listen, Gepard," her tone softened greatly from before, "There's nothing wrong with you. If you need any help, you know you can always count on me. Even if it is about girls." She smiled, giving him a pat on the back.

Gepard smiled and expressed his gratitude, then stepped out of the workshop to endure yet another round of patrols. Despite the abundance of heaters scattered around, the air felt noticeably chillier. Maybe this is what it feels like when you suddenly realize the emptiness inside? No, now he's just being overdramatic. It's really not that bad…

In the weeks that followed, Gepard found himself paying closer attention to his soldiers’ banter. They often talked about their lovers, or shared tales of their nights out trying to charm attractive women. It puzzled Gepard that people could pursue courtship simply for… Enjoyment? Without the intention of marriage? However, he remained too reserved to participate in those conversations. It wasn't rare for him to overhear his name being mentioned, followed by "Nah, he wouldn't be interested in joining us."

It stung a little. Even his own soldiers don’t see him as someone who could loosen up and have a good time. They believed he was too detached to truly enjoy their company… Damn, no friends, no lover. Gepard really is married to his own job at this point. Little did he know that his life wouldn't be so bland forever. On this particular day he would cross paths with an ordinary girl from Belobog, destined to change his perspective.

The meeting was awfully unceremonious. Gepard, carrying out his usual patrol duties, was stationed in the town. Just as he had reached the bottom of the steps of Qlipoth Fort, the sound of rapid footsteps grew nearer. Everything happened so fast that he barely had time to process it. Suddenly, a girl sprinted around the corner, clutching a stack of papers and a brown bag tightly to her chest. Before she even noticed Gepard’s presence, it was already too late…

The air filled with the fluttering of scattered papers, accompanied by the sound of vegetables hitting the cold stone ground. In the chaos, her head collided with Gepard’s armored chest piece (this was a very dangerous garment, in hindsight), emitting a resounding clang. A startled shriek escaped her lips. Reacting swiftly, Gepard managed to catch her before she could tumble to the ground. However, her belongings were lost, whisked away by the wind.

"Ooowwww…" she groaned, her hand tenderly rubbing the fresh red bruise on her forehead. "Watch where you're g…" Her words trailed off as her gaze traveled upward, meeting his face. Oh no. She found herself instantly recoiling, attempting to distance herself from the imposing figure of the tall Captain.

"I-I'm so sorry, Captain! I didn't see you, I... uhm… I mean, I didn't mean to!" Her apologies poured forth like a frantic stream, falling from her mouth like a waterfall. The Captain’s silence only made her panic more, and the firm grip on her arm indicated that the situation might not bode well.

But he wasn't upset, no not at all! In fact, he was so captivated by her beauty that he barely registered what was going on around him. Her words entered one ear, and exited the other. His gaze remained fixed on her eyes, marveling at how they shone like pure geomarrow crystals. The sun reflected off the snow in her hair like tiny diamonds, framing her face in a heavenly glow. But then his eyes landed on the red bruise on her forehead, shattering the idyllic dream he had momentarily found himself caught in.

"M-My apologies," he stuttered, his typically unwavering demeanor momentarily shaken, "You're injured. Please allow me to escort you to the clinic."

"Huh? What?" She reached up to touch her head and felt warmth bloom under her fingertips, accompanied by a slight stinging sensation. Her hand came away with a faint crimson stain.

"It's just a graze, no need to worry about me," she insisted, stepping back from the Captain's hold. But it wasn't just a graze, it really hurt! And the longer she spent out of his support, the more wobbly she felt on her own feet. Sensing her instability, Gepard swiftly wrapped an arm around her shoulder, preventing her from stumbling again. His sturdy hold on her stood in stark contrast to the mushy feeling swelling within his chest.

"We should really get you to a doctor," he began, tone tinged with a hint of worry. She no longer had the strength to protest, the pounding headache alone was overwhelming enough.

They were both silent for the remainder of the walk, neither having something constructive to say to the other. When Gepard handed her over to the doctor, he disappeared without a trace. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of rudeness in his sudden departure. He didn’t even give her a chance to express her gratitude for his understanding, fearing she might have been reprimanded for lack of civility. Well, he was probably a busy man. She couldn’t expect someone of his stature to care about someone as insignificant as her, right?

But right now, Gepard was desperate to quiet the racing of his heart. His knees felt weak, as if they were made of jelly, while he struggled to look normal and composed as he exited the clinic. But who was he kidding? The sweat on his brow and his burning ears were a dead giveaway to his current emotional state. He could only beg the Aeons that no one took notice of his stupor. What was he supposed to do again? Patrols? Yes, patrols. He needed to get back to work.

Throughout the remainder of the day, Gepard found it increasingly difficult to maintain focus on his duties. The telltale signs of his distraction did not go unnoticed by his soldiers. They observed the annoyed bounce of his leg as he hurriedly completed his paperwork, his mind clearly preoccupied. No one dared speak to the Captain, silently acknowledging the departure from his usual composed demeanor.

The soldiers, witnessing his uncharacteristic behavior and urgency behind his actions, couldn't help but speculate and gossip amongst themselves. Some would interpret his distraction as a sign of work-related stress or pressing family matters. Others would suspect something entirely different, an infatuation that had captivated their usually composed Captain.

Without lingering a moment longer than necessary, Gepard promptly left his post and made his way to Serval’s workshop. Each step he took amplified the beating of butterfly wings in his chest, the sensation bordering on discomfort. It seemed to knock the air from his lungs whenever he tried to articulate his thoughts.

"It happened," he tells her bluntly.

"What? What happened?" Serval shook him by the shoulders, her voice filled with urgency. "Gepard, you're gonna have to give me more than that!"

this was meant 2 be sum quick filler but i got rlly invested in it... my style feels more formal but mby tht's bc i jus finished studying. am a lil braindead, had to take a break from the hardy-weinberg equation and do smth productive. no more broad sense heritability, only geppie ♥︎

#gepard fluff #gepard x reader #gepard x you #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #gepard landau #gepard hsr #♥︎ | milky writes

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pasta-in-the-pudding · 2 months

Note

Jane the Killer,Ben Drowned,Homicidal Liu and Eyeless Jack with Filipina!Proxy!S/O Who Teach Them How to Speak Tagalog? also I Lived in Philippines(so Yeah But Don't Tell Anyone about my Country)

I love getting to write for Liu he's so underrated :(

Also, I am not from the Philippines nor do I know anyone who is so I'm gonna be basing this off of some light research so if I get anything wrong, let me know!

Thank you so much for requesting!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jane The Killer

Jane loves getting to learn about new cultures

She isn't super into learning new languages, but for you, she would love to!

When you start teaching her, she writes little notes in this vintage leather notebook she bought a while ago, she just didn't have a use for it

She also writes all her notes in sparkly purple ink <33

She's surprisingly a very fast learner, she is speaking simple sentences within two weeks

I think that once she is fluent enough in Tagalog, she would mainly use it to gossip about people without other's understanding

Or alternatively, she will whisper romantic things to you in Tagalog

Eventually she will build up enough confidence to send you special love letters when she is away on a long mission

All written in dark purple ink and sealed with a dark purple wax seal, of course

Not only is the sentiment sweet, but she knows that only you will be able to read it, making it even more special to you

In general, she uses her newfound Tagalog ability to fluster you and romance you like the hopeless romantic she is

Ben Drowned

Ben has never really had an interest in learning a new language, and is too lazy to put in that kind of effort

Yes, even for you, as sad as that sounds

BUT! He will ask you from time to time how to say certain things

"Hey babe, how do you say 'stupid cock sucking loser' In Tagalog?

That's kind of a joke

Kind of

Most of the time he will ask how to say things for you

For example

"How do you say 'can I kiss you' in Tagalog?"

He's so stupid, but its ok because he puts his little tiny bit of brain into being there for you

Homicidal Liu

Liu, being Columbian can speak a little bit of spanish himself

It's not much, because his mom only taught him a little bit, but he doesn't really mind

So when you come around, asking if it's alright to teach him your native language, he gets super excited!

A new way for you guys to bond and spend time together? And he gets to learn a new language while doing it? Hell yeah!

He is very enthusiastic about the whole thing

Once he gets enough to put simple sentences together, he tries out saying things in Tagalog just to surprise you

To which you get excited, even if he gets it a little wrong, because you know he's trying

And seeing you get excited gives him the motivation to keep learning the language

He eventually, like Jane, uses this to whisper sweet nothings into your ear that only you would be able to understand

He uses this new pond of knowledge mostly for romantic purposes tbh

He just loves you so much !!

Eyeless Jack

Jack, being the nerd he is, is always down to learn something new

He sat down and learned French once just because he could

He is very rusty now, but if he wanted to order a salad then he totally could

While you are teaching him, he barely talks

All you hear from his end is a bunch of scribbling in a notebook as he writes down every word you say

He also goes out and buys a bunch of books either on or in Tagalog, that way he can study more when you are sleeping, and so he can try out some of the words he's learned in an actual real world experience

Once learning about the language, this puts him down a rabbit hole

He then learns about the history of Tagalog, history of the Philippines, culture and traditions, folktale, food, etc

Which comes as a shock to you when he suddenly asks for you to make Lumpia, or if you can't make it, if you can go out together and get some

He insists that if you go to a resturaunt, that it be one that is actual authentic Philippine resturaunt that way he isn't getting some watered down version of traditional foods

He must know everything about everything

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jo-harrington · 1 year

Text

Standard Operating Procedures 1.03 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie is no stranger to disappointment, but it still stings, regardless.

Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.02 (Like...it immediately precedes 1.03)

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual pining and slow burn (yes still, always). Chekhov's...Guitar(?), Sad Boy Eddie, Disappointment, Kind of an argument, Disillusioned Eddie, Hurt/Comfort, fluff at the end as per usual.

Note: I am admittedly just making some shit up in this chapter strictly because I don't know how certain things were in the 80s and have already done my fair share of research and math for this fic. I'm a tired girl. Suspend your sense of disbelief. I hope it's seamless regardless.

Also, I just want to say, thank you for all the love this little series has gotten so far. Everyone has been so kind. If you haven't gotten some already, here's some soft internet magic to help you find your own Eddie Munson or mall romance or whatever it is you're looking for. *perpetual magical forehead smooch*

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other random Eddie Headcanons.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

"M'home!" Eddie announced as he bounded into the trailer. "Isn't it time to make the donuts, old man? Didn't expect you to still be here."

"Eh, Marty's got some appointment tomorrow, so I traded him for 2nd shift," Wayne sighed, sinking further into his arm chair. "Didn't get home too long before you and I don't plan to leave this chair for a good few hours."

"Well, I'll make myself scarce so you can enjoy Johnny Carson in peace," Eddie chuckled, knowing his uncle didn't get much of a chance to indulge in his favorite programs with his work schedule.

"Did ya' have a good session tonight?"

"No session. We went out to celebrate Gareth getting his drivers license."

"S'that why you're so giddy?" Wayne teased good-naturedly.

Eddie thought about it for a second as he kicked off his sneakers, realizing that he had been in a pretty good mood tonight. It had been a fun night out with the guys. And of course, you were there.

It made him happy that you got along with his friends.

And he got to sit next to you and sneak little glances when you didn't know he was watching. And he got to hear the little hitch of your breath at the jump scares and imagine that it would do the same if he kissed your neck the way he wanted to, someday.

You had leaned in close at one point and put your head on his shoulder...only to whisper some joke about a continuity error you spotted. And then grinned when he burst out laughing, only to get confused looks from the guys and curses from the other moviegoers.

It only got better when you agreed to go out on Halloween, as much as he felt like an absolute idiot for asking you.

Who asks a girl to go Trick or Treating? What was he, in 3rd grade? On the upside, it meant you still planned to be his friend come October.

Maybe you would be more than a friend by then.

If he could just get the courage to...actually ask you out.

It wouldn't be that hard, right? He would just have to...maybe hold your hand and ask if you'd ever want...well no that wasn't right...

Fuck. He'd done it before; he'd mostly gotten no's but...

"Y-yeah," Eddie finally responded, realizing his uncle was waiting for an answer. "Zombie movie. You know I like those. Gareth was practically pissing his pants."

"Well good. And you tell that boy not to let the driving thing get to his head," Wayne coughed. "He still owes me a new mailbox after your driving lessons.

"Speaking of which, there's mail for you on the counter," Wayne waved his hand in the direction of the kitchen.

Eddie shuffled over and thumbed through the envelopes, debating whether or not to pull a Carnac the Magnificent just to get a laugh out of his uncle, only to freeze when he reached the bright blue envelope at the bottom of the stack.

ROANE COUNTY PARKS, RECREATION, & COMMUNITY SERVICES

He didn't even need a second to think before he sprinted across the trailer to shove his feet back into his sneakers, grabbed his keys, and shouted a quick "imgoingtojeffsdontwaitup" as he raced out the door.

If it was any other time, he would have called first. Or waited until the morning. But if he knew his friends--and he knew them well--they went and got Dairy Queen after the movies, and Gareth would be pulling into Jeff's sleepy little cul de sac off Maple any minute now. There was no time to waste.

This was big, for all of them. He couldn’t do this alone.

He drove with the radio off, he kept his hands at ten and two, made a full stop at every stop sign, and didn't even speed like he usually would. Not one mile over the limit. He couldn't risk Callahan catching his scent tonight. And he prayed to every god, goddess, demon, devil, deity—every pantheon—he knew that everything could just be in his favor tonight.

It's just the fair, but what if this is the next step on the road to something bigger.

Eddie started honking as soon as he could see the tail lights of the station wagon. He didn't care who he woke up or what neighbor would call the cops. He didn't even remember putting the van in park before he jumped out; it could have rolled off a cliff, he wouldn't have cared.

The other guys started screaming as he waved the envelope at them.

"This is it, this is it. Did you open it yet?

"A real show, guys."

"Do we need new equipment? Shit, do we need eyeliner?"

"Alright guys calm down," Eddie grinned. "We have to open the envelope first."

They huddled together in the middle of the cul de sac, hovering over the envelope and Eddie held his breath for a moment. This would be the moment...

The moment that they could tell everyone they really started on the road to making it big.

The moment they got their first real set, their first big crowd.

Maybe there would be some talent scout at the fair. They showed up at these sorts of things right?

He might not even need to go back to Hawkins High come September.

Or even if he did…to know that he might be a real rockstar some day...He could ignore all of the shit from the kids and the teachers. It wouldn't need to be another year of ridicule and humiliation.

He ripped through the thin blue paper and pulled out the folded letter within, dropping the envelope immediately in favor of clutching it with both hands as he read.

His hands started to shake as he read, and it was only getting worse by the second.

He was going to vomit. Or...or pass out. Or...

Unfortunately due to the family-oriented nature of this event, the genre of music included in your proposed set list has been deemed inappropriate and we regret to inform you that your application for this year's Roane County 4th of July Festival has been denied.

Eddie was going to die. He would lay down, right here in the middle of the street, and die. They could just re-pave the street right over his corpse.

Here lies Eddie Munson.

Wannabe Rockstar.

He didn't even make it to his 20th birthday.

He finally looked up and passed the letter around, watching--painfully--as their dreams were shattered too. He gauged Jeff's reaction most of all, since he had been the one to propose the idea in the first place. But Jeff was fine; he was just looking right back at Eddie.

"You ok, man?" he asked.

"It's just a stupid fair," Eddie sniffed, ignoring the stinging of his eyes as he fought back the tears.

"Yeah," Dave nodded. "There's always next summer."

Next summer. Next year.

Another year he probably wasn't gonna graduate again. Another year stuck in this not-even-one-horse-town.

Sure, he was probably getting ahead of himself with the ideas of fame. But outright rejection? It stung. To be denied the chance to perform, to show off all of their talent, because of the set list he chose.

The guys all trusted him, he always chose songs that highlighted their strengths. Always wanted them to look and play their best. He was so proud of them, he never wanted them to fail.

But they trusted him and it let them down.

And because of that, Eddie couldn't let everything fall apart because he failed.

"They couldn't even let us pick some new songs," Eddie swallowed his pain and laughed dryly. "They don't know what they're missing out on."

It wasn't much, but it was enough to get them going.

"Hey maybe we could write some more original songs for next year?"

"I think if we practiced, I could really nail that one drum solo, hey Ed?"

"We would have totally melted some faces!"

They always held it together for him; he definitely could do it for them too.

---

“Are you sure he’s gonna like this one?”

“This is the newest model,” Eddie explained with a sigh, turning the box over to show off the list of New and Improved features on the back.

The customer was a sleepy-looking older guy in glasses and a wrinkled polo, who walked in 10 minutes before closing, whose wife apparently sent him out for their son’s birthday present: a new Walkman.

And the asshole was really dragging his feet on a decision. Eddie had all of the options they offered laid out on the display case, they'd gone over the different features several times. He almost had the sale, and then the guy realized it was the red model instead of blue. Like it even fucking mattered.

It was Sunday night too. Not like Eddie had anywhere else he needed or wanted to be.

“And if I go to Sam Goody, they’re gonna say the same thing?” He asked.

“You could go down there and ask, but I’ll bet you that it’s gonna be marked up at least 15% more.”

If he left now, the gate would get closed right behind him. The sale wasn’t worth it.

“Hmmmm, fine,” the man harrumphed and began pulling out his wallet. “And throw in a couple tapes too, I guess. I don’t know what Michael likes; whatever you think is popular. You're the expert here, not me.”

As soon as the guy had paid and was walking out of the store, Eddie pulled down the gate and grumbled under his breath "what a fuckin' dickhead, can't make a decision to save his life or even be bothered to know what his son actually wants for his birthday."

Kyle's barking laughter echoed across the store from where he was doing markdowns.

"I can definitely hear you from over here kid," he chuckled. "You've gotta chill.”

"Sorry man," Eddie sighed as he approached the registers to start the closing tasks. "I'm just...I dunno, in a bad mood I guess."

"Well, you're doing a good job, people just suck sometimes."

The first time Kyle told him what a good job he was doing, Eddie nearly confessed that he was channeling Kurt Russel in Used Cars and rolled a D20 for persuasion before each shift.

Whether or not the D20 roll actually worked, Eddie still had some of the best sales numbers on the team. They’d nearly doubled their sales goal today alone. Because despite the entire town seemingly having it in for him, no one seemed to mind that he was the one helping them find whatever it was that they needed.

"Stop thinking about it so much," Kyle laughed. "You just keep making those sales, we keep beating our numbers, and your bonus check's gonna be enough for the last payment on that Warlock you've been drooling over since you started. Doesn't that cheer you up a little?"

Eddie hummed dismissively as approached the cash wrap to start closing procedures, and glared at the stack of handmade fliers for Corroded Coffin’s Tuesday night shows at the Hideout, sitting neatly on the electronics display case next to all of the special order catalogs.

Yeah that was the dream.

A stage-worthy guitar and an actual stage and crowd to go along with it.

But it was gonna be forever to get there at the pace he was going.

When he’d gotten home on Friday night and told Wayne about the rejection letter, his uncle clapped him on the shoulder and said “good things come to those who wait.” Of course, Eddie was grateful for whatever advice his uncle gave him. He was just…tired of waiting.

And he'd have to wait even longer, because tonight it didn't even feel like they were going to be able to leave the store at all, let alone on time.

Nothing was going right--or so it seemed thanks to Eddie's mood. And it just seemed to get worse as time wore on. He couldn't get the registers to balance, he kept fucking up the combination to the safe when he went to put the deposit away, the mixtape he put into the shop radio earlier in the evening had jammed, and it took both him and Kyle combined to jimmy it out of the player.

They ran into a problem with every single closing task.

And before long, you were outside of the store waiting, when he had typically made it his habit to wait for you.

It was just...one of those things that Eddie liked to do.

He could imagine he was picking you up for a real date. Watch you as you finished up your own closing tasks, enjoy the little things you probably didn't even realize you did--bob your head along to whatever residual music was playing in the mall, fiddle with your earrings with one hand as you signed deposit slips with the other.

The way you lit up when you saw him outside of the gate--gave him a bright smile and held your fingers up to say how much longer it would be--was one of the highlights of his week, after gigs at the Hideout and crushing the guys dreams during Hellfire.

He could have really used that tonight.

Instead, you were out there waiting as Eddie continued to fuck things up. You smiled and waved as you usually did when you first arrived, leaning on the little coin-operated horse right outside the store. Thanks to his frustration, he couldn't bring himself to smile back. He glanced outside every now and again, and felt his stomach lurch whenever he saw you kicking your feet or picking your nails. Bored. Annoyed. Sick of waiting for him, probably, if the lack of an expression was anything to go by.

He debated simply telling you to leave. That your night out was canceled and you could reschedule another time.

But if you agreed...you might get pissed off for wasting your time and avoid him whenever you saw him from that point forward.

How did this happen? How was it just 48 hours ago that he was coming up with a plan to ask you out? And now he might never talk to you again?

Because he was a loser, he wasn't worth the trouble, that's wh--

"Alright Ed, let's go," Kyle clapped a hand on his shoulder and Eddie jumped.

"What?" he stared at Kyle for a second.

"What do you mean what? It's time to go," Kyle explained.

"But the checklist," Eddie frowned, mentally tallying all the tasks they hadn't gotten to. "It's not done."

"You wanna stay and clean the bathroom? Mop the floors? I can just have Paulie do it in the morning," Kyle grabbed him by the shoulder and led him to the door. "Let's fucking go. There's a whole pan of lasagna waiting for me at home, and your girlfriend is out there waiting for you. Unless you want me to take her out instead?"

Eddie fumbled over his words as Kyle pushed him outside and locked the gate.

"Try to have a good night tonight; someone's got a crab up his ass," Kyle warned you with a wink before heading towards the exit.

You pushed yourself off the play horse and approached Eddie with a frown.

"Hey if you're not up to going out tonight, we don't have to," you offered.

Here it was, the first steps of rejection.

"Yeah, no," Eddie coughed weakly. "If you don't want to go out, that's cool."

He'd heard it all before.

"God you're such a loser."

"Who would ever want to hang out with a freak like you."

"You think I'd actually be into you?"

"It's not about me, I'm asking about you," you smiled gently. "I don't know if you had a bad customer or something. That always gets me in a mood."

Eddie scratched the back of his neck for a second and fumbled over his words. You weren’t turning him away. No you had to be letting him down easily...right? That had to be it.

Eddie…he’d just been burned too many times by so-called friends at even smaller inconveniences. It was hard not to expect the same from everyone else he let into his life.

Except that really wasn’t the way you did things was it? How many times has he expected one thing from you and you'd surprised him with another?

You weren't tricking him or out to get him or waiting for him to mess up. You were accepting him as he was and offering him whatever care or friendship he needed.

"Yeah," he finally scoffed, playing along. "This...this guy who came in right before we closed. Couldn't decide what he wanted. Wasted time walking around. Real piece of shit."

"Well fuck that guy then," you frowned, then paused. "You sure you're up for going out? Even if you don't want to be out and about, we can go back to my place and...I could cook something? Wouldn't be pizza like I promised, but I pretty much subsist solely on pasta if I'm not grabbing takeout or going out with you. You can just hang out, listen to music or something, it’s not a big deal.”

It sounded like the best night ever. Getting to see your space, adding another layer of trust to your friendship, giving you shit about your cooking just like you did with his dinner choices…but…

Eddie knew you had scheduled yourself to open on the 4th so you could see Corroded Coffin’s set. Of course this had all been planned before he knew they weren’t going to play. And he knew he would have to break the news sooner rather than later.

But...just like with the guys...he didn't want to let you down. You, who had your entire life together, who he was lucky gave him the time of day. If you got too comfortable listening to music, you might be reminded and you would ask him about it, and when you found out...

So he would keep you in the dark. For now at least. And then come that night when you met him at the Fair Grounds he could just tell you there was a mix up and you could just enjoy the fair and eat carnival food until you puked instead.

"As tempting an offer as that is, you'd be missing out on your first Benny's experience," Eddie forced an enthusiastic laugh. "Uncomfortable booths, shitty atmosphere. But you haven't really lived in Hawkins unless you've had a patty melt handmade by Benny himself."

"Surely not the famous Benny."

"The one and only. I can only semi-promise he won't scratch his back with his spatula, but he will blend a piece of apple pie into your milkshake if you ask nicely. It's the Munson Special."

Your eyes sparkled before you looked down at your feet for a moment, and Eddie vibrated restlessly, nerves getting the best of him once he wasn't being observed by you. You then looked up at him with your lips twisted to control a smile and you nodded.

What a relief...

---

It was an undeniable fact that Benny's was the heart of Hawkins, and Benny himself the soul.

He was a severe-looking man at first glance--wide-shouldered with a wild beard and furrowed brows--but he always had a laugh and a story to tell. He went out of his way to learn everyone's name and make them feel welcome and would already be prepping the grill for one of his regular's orders as soon as he saw their car pull into the parking lot.

And Eddie, by the grace of his mother's previous employment at the diner, was one of Benny's favorites. He told you as much and warned you of his "celebrity status" on the drive there.

"He's gonna be very loud, but he's really funny. And he might grill you about what sports teams you like, so he might give you some shit if you don't have one. Actually, are you a big sports fan? Oh, and he might grab me by the collar and shake me around a little, but it's ok...that's just his thing. He's been doing it since I was a kid after the one time I ate all the mints in the jar by the register."

"Eddie, don't worry it'll be ok," you laughed and shifted in the passenger's seat to get a better glimpse of him. "Oh my god, are you blushing?"

"What, no," he scoffed.

Yes, he most definitely was. And he could feel himself get hotter as you continued to watch him.

"It's ok, family can be embarrassing sometimes," you shrugged. "At least it's just funny embarrassing and not painful embarrassing."

Eddie swallowed nervously and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

Yeah this would be like meeting someone from his family, wouldn't it.

He was so caught up in his nerves and self-pity, he really hadn't thought of it that way.

"Unless Benny has some baby pictures of you on the wall something," you continued with a conspiratorial grin.

Fortunately, no baby pictures; unfortunately there was a picture on the wall near the old jukebox of a 9-year old Eddie with Benny and Rick, standing next to some massive fish they caught out on Lover's Lake. Whether to emphasize how big the fish was or how short Eddie was, he couldn't recall. All he knew was that he was missing a few baby teeth and his knees were all scabby from one fantastical adventure in the woods or another.

But you didn't need to know about that.

The diner was, thankfully, busy by the time you guys arrived, so you were spared Benny's theatrics short of a "how's it going kid" shouted from the kitchen and a bunch of muffled greetings from some of the regulars who were around when Eddie's mom was still alive. You did, however, get to meet Lynn, the blue-haired waitress that probably worked at Benny's longer than Benny had even owned the place. She was a crank and incredibly opinionated and always let Eddie's mom, then eventually Wayne and Rick, know all of the ways they were failing at raising him.

Now that Eddie was grown, she simply let him know every time she had a problem with him.

But Eddie was shocked at how swiftly you navigated the interaction with her, dodging all of the tricks and traps that typically set Eddie up for some kind of insult or life lesson.

Lynn simply took your orders--patty melts and fries with the promised apple pie shakes, "oh and extra whipped cream please"--hummed judgmentally and stalked off to top off various coffee cups. She didn't even say anything about the lack of vegetables on Eddie's plate when the food was finally ready, like she usually did when he came in for late night bites with the guys.

"How the fuck did you do that?" Eddie leaned across the table conspiratorially. "She's had it out for me for years."

"Old people love me," you explained. "I've driven my papa to enough doctor's appointments and sat through enough of his stories that I have...what did you call it? In your game? A bluff?"

"Buff," he corrected with a nod.

"Grandchild buff," you agreed and he laughed.

"Repel the Elderly," Eddie puffed out his chest and adopted his DMing voice. "A level 4 spell. No damage taken from anyone over the age of 65. But it only lasts 2 rounds. Let's hope the Harpy doesn't come back otherwise I'll need you to make a constitution saving throw. If you roll below a 10, she deals double poison damage; you might not survive."

You threw a fry at him and stuck out your tongue, then asked him to tell you more about Dungeons and Dragons. Everything was normal for a little while as you ate and talked.

Until Benny came to check on his patrons. He typically made the rounds every hour or two, stopping at tables and saying hello. The two of you were laughing at some joke Eddie made by the time Benny got to your booth.

"Hey, kid," Benny leaned his hip against the booth with his arms folded across his chest. "Long time no see; heard you got a real life, grown up job."

"Hey Ben, yeah. At the mall. Been more than a month now. I'm guessing Rick's been by?"

"You know how it goes: holiday weekend coming up, he pulls an all nighter getting supplies from his guy up in Milwaukee. Then he gets the waffle platter with extra bacon and we talk about all the town gossip."

"Nice to know I'm still gossip-worthy."

"You know how proud he is of you. This, uh...a coworker or something? You gonna introduce me or no?" Benny changed the subject and gave Eddie a knowing look. You, however, swooped in to introduce yourself as Eddie shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

He hadn't exactly told Wayne or Rick about you yet. Just that he had some new friends who worked at the mall too. It wasn't the same as talking to the guys. How many times had he had a crush over the years and came home excited about someone only to get his hopes obliterated. How many pep talks had he endured? Now, thanks to Benny's big mouth and Rick's unending need for gossip, they'd know he had taken a pretty girl to the diner.

He could truly only hope that there wouldn't be another pep talk associated with you.

"...ok Chicago," Benny sniffed as your short conversation came to an end. "You're alright. Backing the wrong football team...but still alright. Nice to meet you.”

He then turned back to Eddie.

"I need to get back to the kitchen but Rick told me about the 4th of July thing.” Eddie froze and his mouth went dry. "I'm sorry to hear about it. If you and the guys want, you can do a show here that night instead. Lot of families stop by for ice cream and pie and such.

"Maybe not that real heavy stuff you're into, but I know you boys know how to play some of the classics off the old jukebox. We could set you up in the parking lot. Phil's got some folding tables from the tree lot."

"Yeah thanks," Eddie nodded. "That sounds great. I'll bring it up to the guys when we have practice tomorrow."

"Just let me know so we can make sure you have everything you need." He turned his attention back to you. "Again, it's nice to meet ya'. Don't let Eddie scare you off, he's a big old teddy bear."

"Ben!" Eddie groaned and put his face in his hands.

"Oh he won't; I'm definitely scarier than he is," you cackled. "Nice to meet you too Benny."

Once he was gone, Lynn swooped in with the check. You immediately made to grab for it before Eddie could dare, but Lynn stopped you.

"No need honey; Edward already paid," she hummed. "As a gentleman should; seems Wayne taught you something right."

"It's always nice to see you too Lynn."

The older woman rolled her eyes and shuffled away.

You waited until she was gone before you turned your attention back to Eddie, gritted your teeth, balled the check up and threw it at him.

"Stop doing that! When did you even--"

"When you went to the bathroom," Eddie grinned triumphantly.

"You are a menace and you must be stopped!" You threw your hands in the air as you pushed yourself out of the booth to leave. "I'll get you back one day, I swear to God."

Eddie clasped both hands to his chest and gasped dramatically.

"No, please," he exclaimed. "No holy oaths in front of a lowly devil worshiper like me. I can feel the bullshit burning through me."

"Shut up, I hate you." You laughed. "Just let me pay for dinner next time."

“No, I let you pay for pizza," Eddie argued.

"You let me pay for a pizza. One. And you didn't let me do anything, I had to jump out of the van before you could. I don’t even think you had parked it yet."

“This is slander! I object.” Eddie put his hands on your shoulders, leveling you with the most stern expression he could muster. “I also let you buy cannolis.”

“Alright Perry Mason,” you rolled your eyes at him and swatted his hands off your shoulders. “You win this time.”

“Excuse me but Perry Mason always wins!"

---

You finally brought it up on the way to Lover's Lake.

It hadn't been Eddie's intention to always end your Sunday nights out at the lake, it just...happened. Pizza that first night, then Chinese food the following week when you lost track of time sitting in the employee parking lot debating which Indiana Jones film was better, Raiders or Temple of Doom. (It was Raiders. Obviously.)

Tonight, the plan had been to make s'mores on the fire pit in Rick's backyard. He had suggested it after he'd spotted a sandwich board outside of Scoops Ahoy advertising their knew Gimme S'mores flavor. He'd subtly asked you later if you had ever made s'mores before, and then gave you shit for your absolute throwaway answer.

"Like...yeah, in the microwave."

"The micr--are you shitting me right now?!"

"I'm sorry, there wasn't really an opportunity to start a bonfire in my fully paved backyard."

"Did you even have a childhood? No s'mores, no pudding, no sugar cereal? NO QUISP!"

So Eddie had gone to Bradleys and gotten marshmallows and chocolate and a variety of cookies. The plan, if you were ok with it, was going to be to smoke for a little bit--he'd dreamed of a s'more made with chocolate chip cookies when he had gotten high the other night and was very much looking forward to it--and enjoy the sweetness of both the s'mores and your company.

Instead, it had all shattered around him as he turned onto Cornwallis.

"So..." you began hesitantly, tapping your hands on your lap.

"So...?" Eddie asked, glancing over at you. You leaned forward a little, eyebrows raised expectantly. "What?"

"Benny's offer...for the 4th..."

"What about it?"

"You guys should do it!" you exclaimed. "That sounds like a really fun time."

You went on about the intimate venue and the regulars who already seemed to know Eddie and the guys, if what you had just seen at the diner was any indicator. The more you spoke, the more irritated Eddie seemed to get.

Not irritated...with you. No, just uncomfortable in his own skin. Uncomfortable with the fact that his failure was being perceived.

He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, his hands fidgeted on the steering wheel, his chest hurt. The van seemed to be getting smaller and hotter, the seat more uncomfortable, the longer you spoke.

By the time you finished, he barely felt like himself.

"No," he coughed. "No, I don't think the guys would be up for something like that."

"Why not?" you questioned. "You were getting ready to play at the fair right? What makes this different?"

"It just is," Eddie shrugged.

"I mean I get it's not a stage but--"

"You're not even gonna ask why we aren't playing at the fair?" Eddie cut in, attention fully taken off the road as he stared at you expectantly.

Because...because yeah you were nice, but it didn't make any sense that you were just...going along with whatever you heard. Why were you so quick to try and get him to accept this pity offer from Benny. Why weren't you throwing it in his face that plans had changed and his dreams were shattered.

"Ok. Why aren't you playing at the fair?" you asked and Eddie scoffed. "I'm not trying to be passive aggressive or anything, you just seem irritated that I didn't ask first. So now I am asking."

"Does it matter?" Eddie shrugged.

"Yes, because you're upset."

"I'm not upset."

"Eddie, please," you sighed. "Even Kyle said something was bothering you. I'm not trying to stir the pot and if you want me to drop it, I will. You just...when you talk about your music and the band you're always so excited. I want to understand why you don't want to take this opportunity."

"Because it's a reminder that I'm a failure!" Eddie shouted, hands coming off the steering wheel as he held them up beside his head. "Sur-fucking-prise! I can't seem to do anything right and that's usually fine, but yeah, you're right, this was one of the only things that really mattered to me and the guys. And I couldn't even get that right.

"Benny isn't asking if we wanted to play because he likes our music, because he thinks we're any good. No, it's because he feels bad that we can't play at the Fair. Because I chose what I thought was a really fucking cool set list and they turned us down. Because I fucked up and he wants to cheer me up."

"What's so bad about that? What's so bad about people who care about you wanting to take care of you?" you asked.

"Because it isn't care; it's pity!" He argued. "It's always pity of one kind of another, right? Pity that my mom died, pity that I live in a trailer park, pity that I have this dream that's gonna get me nowhere, pity that I can't even pass senior year after two freaking tries. What's the point anymore? I'm tired."

The van rumbled along, but it was silent otherwise. Eddie couldn't look at you after his outburst so he wrung his hands around the steering wheel.

Fuck. He really did it this time.

Eddie knew, he knew you were gonna ask and he was gonna try to avoid it and he was going to disappoint you. But he didn't know...

Eddie didn't like getting angry or really showing those kinds of emotions. It was different if he snapped at the guys to reel them in, or snark at stupid kids at school. It was harmless, no actual malice behind it. There were just some times...where he felt it all get too overwhelming inside of him and he didn't want to...

He didn't want to be like his dad.

It's why he liked smoking. And why he liked smoking. He wouldn't say he was someone with a lot of sharp edges to begin with, but they helped smooth out whatever rough burrs that came from the every day were left over on his soul after a tough week.

If only he had made it to Lover's Lake before you asked.

He had made the next turn back onto the highway when you spoke.

"Do you think I'm hanging out with you because I pity you?" you broke the silence with a small voice, and when he looked over, you were playing with your fingers and gnawing at your bottom lip. You didn't look scared or upset, really. That was a bit of a relief. But...

"No, I didn't mean..." Eddie paused for a second, because actually...he didn't think you were hanging out with him out of pity. But he was just waiting for the moment you realized it wasn't worth hanging out with him anymore because he was pitiful.

So maybe it was just worth it to end this whole thing now and save himself some unexpected disappointment. Just like it had been with everyone else who suddenly dropped him like a hot potato.

"I mean yeah," he shrugged. "Look at you. And then look at me. We don't exactly make sense."

"Make what sense?"

"You're like...you have everything figured out, you have your whole life together, you're like...on top of the world. Got your promotion to Store Manager, your apartment, everything. Meanwhile--"

"Eddie."

"--I can't even finish high school, my band can't play a bigger crowd than the Hideout, I'm pretty sure I...accidentally sold my soul or something because Kyle hired me and I'm actually doing a good job? But where am I gonna be in 5 years, in 10? Probably still right where I am. I've literally screwed up everything I've ever put my mind to. It doesn't make sense."

"When things don't work out for us, when we're disappointed, yeah it does feel like nothing makes sense," you sighed. "But that's why you need to let the people around you who want to help you, actually help you.

"It's not a bad thing to accept he--Why are we back at the mall?" You suddenly asked as he pulled onto the Mall drive and headed towards the employee lot.

"Well I figure the night is over, I would take you back to your car," he shrugged weakly.

You opened your mouth to say something, but quickly closed it and nodded.

Yeah, that's what he thought.

He still got out of the van and opened the door for you when he parked next to your car, he offered you some chocolate to take home if you wanted, and he even kissed your hand before you got in the car to leave.

"See you around sweetheart," he said softly through your open window.

"See you Eddie, have a good night please," you offered a small smile. "Please...be good to yourself ok?"

He tucked his hands into his pockets and watched you drive away before he got back into the van.

Be good to himself.

Weird, but that definitely sounded better the "fuck you" he usually got when people disappeared from his life.

---

Except you didn't disappear from his life. You lived in the same town, worked at the same mall, for crying out loud; you still parked your car kind of close to his when he came in for the rest of his shifts that week. You didn't eat lunch together like you'd gotten used to doing...but he would still catch glimpses of you as you passed each other on break.

It was almost...back to how it was before he had gotten the nerve to go and talk to you that first time. You would smile and wave and he would look away. Neither of you said anything to one another, but you weren't hostile and neither was Eddie.

The 4th of July arrived and Eddie had to work. He had originally traded shifts with someone so he could do a short mid instead of a close and he'd forgotten to switch it back. But that meant he caught you leaving Tape World at the end of, what should have been, your 15 minute break.

"What was she doing here?" Eddie asked Kyle, who was surprisingly decked out in as much flag gear as he could get his hands on.

"Who? Oh your girlfriend?" Kyle pushed his star-shaped sunglasses up the bridge of his nose as he filed some receipts away. The grin on his face was obnoxious.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Uh huh. Sure. Well, her shop radio broke again and she forgot her tapes again," Kyle shrugged. "What else is new? Hey maybe if I send you up there on official Tape World Business, you two can make up and you can stop being such a fuckin' grump."

Eddie ignored him.

That night, there was no concert at Benny's but he and the guys did end up going to the fair and eating funnel cake until they puked.

They actually had a good time; they had even watched the musical lineup for a little while. Whatever the clerk at the Park Department had chosen wasn't nearly as good as Corroded Coffin would have been. And that knowledge, paired with Gareth's heckling and Jeff's booing, kind of made him feel a little better.

The following Sunday passed by without your usual date night. Eddie still passed by your store on the way out to the employee lot. You didn't look at him or wave this time, you were at the register going over something with, what looked to be, a new hire. You laughed and his chest hurt a little.

Eddie knew how much those little dates, how much those lunches and breaks spent together, really brightened up his week. But it wasn't until he didn't have them anymore that he realized just how strong of a foothold you had in his life in such a short amount of time.

He really should never have pushed you away like he had.

He had fucked up.

He missed you.

---

"Hey Ed, once you clock in can you check the shipment in?" Kyle asked as soon as Eddie crossed through the doors to start his shift the following Wednesday.

"Yeah, great," Eddie sighed. “No problem.”

It wasn’t that he hated checking the shipment in….it’s just that there were about a million other parts of working at Tape World that he liked better. Talking to customers, choosing what would play on the store radio for the duration of his shift…shit, even counting down the registers at night. But this was tedious. Busy work.

It was an endless stack of boxes and he needed to make sure what was inside matched the packing slip. Thousands of little tapes. Great.

"There's some special orders back there too, if you can give the customers a call!" Kyle hollered after Eddie as he slipped into the stock room. Sure enough, there were a few larger boxes propped up by the little break area.

Now that was something Eddie enjoyed a little more. He'd call the customers--usually some desk jockey who got themselves something to get through their mid-life crisis, or a parent getting some dream gift that their kid would forget about come next month--and tell them their special order had just arrived. Then typically, they would drop into the store that day or the next day and he would get to help them unpack and test out their brand new guitar.

Aside from selling the sparkling new guitars from one of the many catalogs at the counter, this was the best part of his job. And knowing he would get to do it immediately brought his mood up.

Eddie himself had been waiting for the day where a package would be there for him. On his first day, as they were setting up the store before the mall had even opened, he had unpacked the box of catalogs and found a doozy of guitar that he had his eye on: A BC Rich Warlock. And he had been putting money towards it with every paycheck. Tape World had a plan, just like the holiday layaway at K-Mart, and combined with his employee discount...he was almost there.

He dreamt about it as he grabbed a box and pulled the packing slip from where it was attached on the side of the box.

Maybe in the next few weeks? Next month? He'd come back here and the label would say...

Edward Munson/Tape World/1 StarCourt Drive/Unit F3

Eddie blinked.

Yeah. That's what it would say.

Wait. Was he still high from after last night's show? When they'd made a very late McDonalds run and smoked in Gareth's garage?

Edward Munson/Tape World/1 StarCourt Drive

He blinked again. Nope, still the same.

Edward Munson

"Well?" Eddie jumped at the sound of Kyle's voice by the stockroom door. He had his arms crossed and he had the biggest grin on his face. "You gonna open it or what?"

"What the fuck man? Where did this come from?" Eddie questioned.

"I would assume wherever BC Rich makes their guitars? California, I don't know. I work here, remember dingus?"

"No I mean," Eddie fumbled over his words. "I hadn't made the last payment, where did it...did you..."

"Look at the packing slip man," Kyle gestured. "The order form."

Eddie quickly flipped to the Tape World order form stapled to the packing slip. There were lines of his signatures, and the amount of money he had put down with each payment...and then at the very bottom...

A very intricate signature. Yours. And the last hundred dollar payment, marked in red pen.

No. You didn't. You couldn't have. When did you even?

"I told you she was your girlfriend," Kyle cackled. "I fuckin' told you."

Kyle had been gracious enough to let Eddie take an early lunch so he could find you...confront you...kiss you...Eddie wasn't sure yet.

You opened on Wednesdays so right about now you would be taking the cardboard out to the loading dock and then taking your last break. He knew because, if not for the fact that he hadn't talked to you in over a week, he would be right there with you.

Still you jumped in surprise when he burst onto the loading dock, the heavy dock door slamming into the brick wall, just as you were hitting the button on the baler.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie," you put your neon pink, fishnet glove-clad hand on your chest. "Gave me a heart attack."

"Why did you do it?" Eddie asked.

"Do what?"

"This," he pulled the order form from his back pocket and crossed the short distance to show you. He tapped on your signature several times. "Why would you do this for me?"

Your mouth formed a soft "oh" and you sighed.

"Because you're my friend," you explained as if it was obvious. "Because you've been really down and you needed cheering up."

"This isn't just...cheering a friend up. It's too much."

"It really isn't," you shook your head.

"It's a hundred dollars!"

"I have savings," you continued.

"And you have, like...rent and bills and stuff."

"So do you...you said you've been helping your uncle with rent and bills and stuff," you said in a way that mocked him. He gritted his teeth.

"I was gonna use my sales bonus for the final payment."

"Well I'm due for mine coming up too."

"I'm paying you back!" Eddie insisted.

"No you aren't. I wanted to do this for you so I did it."

"If you felt sorry for me or--"

"I just wanted to cheer you up Eddie!" You exclaimed, slamming your hands on the baler button again in finality, as if crushing the already-crushed cardboard was somehow going to drive your point home. "I don't feel sorry for you. I don't pity you. You're my friend and you were really down, disappointed.

"Tell me yes or no? Were you on the verge of giving up? Yes or no, right now."

Eddie froze.

No he wouldn't. Except...hadn't he? There was no 4th of July Fair, which meant there also wasn't a show at Benny's. Their last set at the Hideout wasn't...well he wasn't as good as he could have been. As good as he usually was.

Maybe he had...given up on himself a little. Let the self pity get the best of him.

"No," was the answer he gave you though.

Your eyes hardened and narrowed in challenge. You placed your hands on your hips and stood toe to toe with him and although he was the taller one between the two of you, it certainly felt like you were a giantess towering over him, complete with layers of fishnet and rayon and tulle fluttering in the slight breeze off the loading dock.

"Maybe you didn't hear yourself in the van after Benny's but I did," you began. "You felt like everyone pitied you, that no one was your friend or on your side. You were alone, and in place of real pain and disappointment, and you said you were tired. What is the point of trying anymore, you're tired. You said that, Eddie. You did.

"And I've been there, ok? I'm not that much older than you but I kind of am in a different stage of my life. So I'm sorry if I've ever made it seem like things are easy for me...I'm sure in some aspects they are, but in others...yeah I've been there. It's hard not to compare yourself to others when you're down, but also, you can't just...push people away or think that they're taking pity on you when they're just trying to help.

"And I know it's hard to get over that little hurdle of feeling like everything is a trick or a trap and accept nice things from other people, so excuse me if I took the initiative to do it without your permission. Because when I was at a place of giving up and not wanting help or advice, someone did that for me. So I'm doing it for you now. And I would do it again in a heartbeat."

Eddie stared directly into your eyes as he processed everything. Back and forth, left and right, as your heavy breathing went back to normal.

"Because, if you fail to remember, you have been doing nice things for me these past few weeks, and you really haven't let me return the favor quite yet, so if you don't want to accept that I'm just doing something nice for a friend, then accept that I'm paying you back for all the nice things you've done for me."

He swallowed and looked down at his feet for a moment.

"It was just...some pizzas and snacks--"

"And chili cheese fries, and surprise sodas on the days we don't have our breaks at the same time, and that movie ticket, and dinner at Benny's, and all the gas you've used to drive us around when at this point I can probably navigate town by myself," you finished for him.

Eddie did a mental tally and yeah, you were right. He did do all of those things, and no, he hadn't and probably still wouldn't let you return the favor if you gave him the chance to be your friend again.

"I know friendship isn't supposed to be transactional, but the scale has been tipped immensely towards you, so instead of just sitting back and watching you feel like a failure and give up on your dream because some stupid...I don't know, festival...person has no taste in music, I wanted to do something to surprise you. To cheer you up."

"Why haven't you talked to me then?" he asked.

"What do you mean? You haven't been talking to me," you laughed. "I've been waving and saying hello...you dropped me off at my car that night and then...you haven't even looked at me since. So I figured you just needed the space. I get that too; needing some time, some space."

"I guess I thought you didn't want anything to do with me anymore," Eddie replied lamely. Because yeah, you had been doing those things. Maybe...maybe you were right, maybe he did need the space too. God, you were such a know it all. "I'm here now."

"Yeah I see that," you deadpanned. "Hi."

"Hi," Eddie parroted. "Thank you. For the surprise. I really...really was...surprised."

"Of course, any time," you nodded. "How are you feeling? Any better?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Just like you said, I needed some time to work it out. Spent some time with the guys, it cheered me up."

"Good."

"You missed out on all the carnival food. Made the guys ride the tilt a whirl...Gareth's puke was purple."

"Yeah," you scrunched your nose. "I really missed out."

"There's always next year."

"Great." You offered him a small smile. "We good?"

"Yeah. You still want to hang out with me on Sunday? I, uh, really missed you."

"I missed you too. Maybe...you can give me a private show this Sunday? With your shiny new guitar? Only if you're up for it, of course."

"Absolutely. Sundays with you are my..." Eddie hesitated.

Should he say it? Would it scare you away?

Before he could finish, you put your hand on his arm and squeezed.

"They're mine too."

---

Next Part: Interview Prep

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