#Bill Skarsgard Fluff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writermani4c · 22 days

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Wise Man - Willard Russel x Reader

@pizgif

Summary: He waited for her for a long time, but she was much better than his fantasies. A wise man knows when he has found his wife.

Warnings: English is not my first language. Not the second or third, I'm sorry. I'm just a Brazilian woman with Bill Skarsgard fever who likes to write to relieve tension. I hope you like it and that the BIG mistakes don't bother you while reading. With love, me.

It's romantic, kind of fluffy (if you like men who are madly in love) and with a slight spice of obscenity. Carefully follow along.

She smelled like lilies when she walked into the cereal aisle.

Every man prepares for that moment. The moment when your life will be turned upside down, all because of a peculiar smell that makes you turn your neck without any concern other than finding its source, then you come face to face with a woman. Your girlfriend, your wife, the mother of your children, the warm hand on your shoulder after a dog day, the smell of lilies on the pillow on the other side of the bed, the soft voice that will say “honey, is that you?” when you get home or “why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” in the morning.

Willard was waiting for her. Even though he didn't like to admit it out loud, he hoped there was someone like that in that strange, inhospitable hole in the world. And when she turned the corner, holding a bag of flour and some eggs, smelling of lilies, with dirt-stained fingernails and a yellow dress that had seen better springs, he knew that this would be his wife.

She looked up only subtly, acknowledging his presence because he was tall enough to block the view of some items on the small shelf, but not tall enough to notice that he was losing his breath at her handsome face.

Beautiful eyes.

Her eyes burned into a particular corner of his brain, coming into his dreams like two headlights. Willard never liked sleeping, seeing it as necessary as eating and pissing, but much more boring. He slept and felt paranoid about being so vulnerable. But when he started dreaming about her eyes, sleep became a pleasant escape.

Small town, people talk. They said that her father had left early, so it was just the mother and daughter in a house falling apart. The mother was sick and the daughter took care of keeping them alive and fed, took care of the family garden and sold flowers to the local flower shop, also repaired worn-out clothes and cleaned some houses. Willard brought shirts and she took them like treasures, pressing them to her chest before thanking him for thinking of her for the service. She didn't know that he himself cut some holes in his shirts and stopped buying some items for the house to have an excuse to see her. It was worth it when your shirts came back sewn and smelling of fresh earth, tulips and daisies.

Someone needed to take care of her. Someone needed to keep her warm at night and scare away the strangers who followed in her footsteps when she make your purchases.

Most of them started to cower when she started waving at Willard when she saw him on the street. He almost chickened out himself, thinking about what chance she had of seeing him with some affection, and took a while to return the wave, which gave her the confidence to do so more often.

'Good morning, Mr. Russel' and ‘Good afternoon, Mr. Russel’, always with a sweet voice and a small smile at the corner of his mouth, that corner that made him want to lean over her, hold her face and run his index finger across her lips, because they were beautiful, they looked soft and smooth. He told her to cut the formalities, but she always called him that, changing to her first name only when he went to her house with clothes to mend.

─ You have a lot of clothes to sew." She smiled and Willard thought she might know.

She was beautiful in a disconcerting way. She had that face that made the day seem less depressing, with a smart smile and sparkling eyes, and that body that made him wish ─ and then feel even slightly guilty for letting his thoughts go so far ─ that he could travel with his mouth, kissing her curves. as he breathed in the scent she must have had beneath her clothes, that skin as smooth as silk at his mercy. She wasn't stupid, though.

─ It's as if termites do their damage whenever I take my eyes off them. Sorry for bringing you so much trouble.

─ No, you don't need to apologize for that. But you spend a lot of money on me.

─ It's money well spent.

─ I… ─ She breathed in, batting her eyelashes as a gentle rebuke to whatever was in her brain. Without meaning to, Willard took a step forward. Don't beat yourself up, my blossom, that's what she wanted to say, but she stopped herself from taking that step inside the screened-in porch of her house. ─ You…

─ Willard.

─ Willard. ─ He waved with a resigned smile. ─ I don't want to be rude.

─ Please be. Be rude all you want, I won't care.

─ Do you want to stay for dinner?

His heart became a nearly dead muscle beneath her words, only to start beating full force again, skipping beats like a runner in a marathon. He couldn't believe it. A huge smile spread across his face. It would be the first time she invited him in. This gave him hope. He gave him a duty.

─ I want it.

Once inside her personal space, the place where she lived, he felt enveloped to the core, because the entire house smelled like her. Soft earth and flowers.

Her couch was warmer and more comfortable. The table at home, although small, was warmer and the chairs were comfortable. The smell of his food made him feel a dormant, wild hunger, something that was more inside his head than his stomach, roaring and digging with sharp nails into his flesh. He went to the bathroom, with the window facing the backyard. A small window, but one he could sneak through, and he left it open from the inside.

That night, he had dinner with his future wife and her mother, a lady so laughing and talkative that she filled him with questions full of ulterior motives.

If he was married, which he gladly answered no, looking at the flush-cheeked girl at the other end of the table. If he intended to get married, he said yes. What he worked with, whether he drank, whether he was baptized, whether he was up to date with his church obligations. Willard maintained a helpful smile because he knew she heard all his answers and, somewhere, evaluated everything he said.

Later, when they said goodbye, she walked him to the door.

─ Thank you for staying. We don't receive many visitors.

─ Thank you for dinner. No one has cooked for me for a long time.

─ You can come when you want to be questioned over a plate of food.

Under the yellow light of the screen porch, the world seemed very small and very simple. There was nothing but him and that woman. Nothing but the way she looked at him, her face lifted to meet his eyes, and the way she breathed, how she filled her lungs all at once and emptied them more slowly. Her cheeks were warmer in the yellow light, the glow in her eyes was like the gravitational force making him yield to her, and the flutter of those eyelashes stirred Willard's heart once again.

He waited for her, but he couldn't believe that reality could be so good.

His right hand touched hers, gentle but lewd, and he leaned in, consuming the air between them, to kiss her left cheek.

He didn't apologize or look back before walking through the balcony door, hearing the thud as it closed behind him. He walked through the garden and disappeared into the darkness, but he didn't go away. He watched her touch her cheek with her fingertips and take a deep breath, then a smile spread across her face.

Every night for two months, he climbed in through that bathroom window in the middle of the night and walked silently around the house. He touched the notes she signed by hand, her grocery list or some reminder on the refrigerator door, ran his fingers through the clothes on the line at the back of the house and went through her things. He defiled her space because he felt a certain comfort in it, in walking through the house and pushing open her bedroom door, watching her sleep peacefully in the narrow bed. She looked peaceful and carefree, as she should be. She looked fragile, small (and that had nothing to do with her height) and defenseless against all the dangers of that land, a little sparrow that he wanted to hold in his hands and keep, because flying around would get him into trouble.

Every time he was invited to dinner, which started to happen more and more frequently, he allowed himself to leave a kiss as a farewell.

A kiss on the cheek, on the back of her hands, on her knuckles, on her forehead. It was like a small dose from a bottle that he hoped he could take a bigger swig of. Holding her face and bringing his lips to her temple, breathing in the scent of her hair as he enjoyed the feeling of his own lips on the skin of the one who stole his heart, because he couldn't take her mouth and, by the good Lord, no part underneath that yellow button-down dress.

One night, when he turned his back, she followed him outside.

─ Willard! ─ The urgency made him stop in place, but it took him a while to turn on his heels, finding her outside with him, away from the yellow lights.

Outside, the world was different.

The darkness of the night was infested with dangers and evil men. The world smelled not just of soft earth and flowers, but also of gunpowder and blood, ambition, power and unbridled pleasure, suffering and bitterness, things that didn't feel like her but were familiar to him. She came after Willard and he waited for her because she was too small to be alone. She didn't need to be alone. Never again.

─ What was it?

─ I don't know.

─ Yes, you know. ─ She needed to know, because the wait wasn't just exciting. It was heartbreaking too. Each night watching her from afar, unable to run his nose along the delicate curve of her neck or cover her when she moved in her sleep and made the blanket slide, slipping away to reveal a pair of breasts covered only by a soft nightgown. The things he did to himself imagining having those breasts in his mouth... ─ It's dark out here. Whatever you say will remain in the dark.

─ What if it’s bad?

─ Nothing good is said in the dark, my dear, that's why we only talked alone on your balcony.

She nodded.

She was barefoot. Most of the time, she stayed barefoot inside the house, limiting herself to wearing lace-up boots over socks when she needed to go into town.

─ I want to be your darling.

─ You are. Always has been, ever since I laid eyes on you.

─ No, not like that. I want to be more than I am now. ─ She took a deep breath. ─ I want you to come and have dinner here every day and not have to pay for me to fix your clothes, because it gives me great pleasure to do so. I don't want you to have to leave after you kiss me.

─ Be my wife then, darling.

That time, she was the one who held his hand. Her fingers were smaller than his, knotted from working with the earth and sewing threads, and that only made her more perfect. She intertwined her fingers with his and leaned forward on the tips of her toes, seeking him with that warm, inviting mouth, her breathing quickened beneath her dress.

Willard married her twice.

The second time was in the church where she was baptized, with God's blessing. He gave her a white dress and a veil, only to move it away from her face and kiss her when the priest gave him permission. Few people went to the ceremony and neither of them cared, they didn't have a party, they just went home and he carried her to bed.

The first time, however, was in the dark, outside the house. And it smelled like soft earth and lilies.

Willard married his wife the moment he lay on top of her, hearing her soft giggle as she hugged his waist with her legs, squeezing her thighs around him as the tip of his cock entered the folds of that tight, wet-as-hell pussy. heaven should be. He wanted to give her a good bed, but they didn't need that while they were numb with passion, their lips locked in a kiss full of voluptuousness and promises.

You'll never be alone again, he promised as he ran his fingers over her face, removing the strands of hair stuck to her sweaty skin, hitting that pussy.

You'll never be afraid, he gasped, because she was holding him tight and moaning against his neck, trying to contain herself. I didn't want her to have to hold back those sly, tearful, sweet sounds, but I didn't want her mother to suspect that he was between her only daughter's legs, so she whispered, between smiles, so that she would make less noise, and she would also smile, but he couldn't contain himself.

You'll never have to worry about anything in the world, he slid his hand between their bodies, while he felt his dick invading her, and he slid his finger over her folds, on that pulsing beam. He rubbed it just for pleasure and indulgence, watching her squirm, biting her right hand to keep still, as beautiful and ethereal as angels must be. Then he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting her on his tongue.

Every day and every night, my blossom, I will be the devil that guards you, her taste was like the best of drinks and the best of drugs. An addiction he would maintain with devotion.

She ran her fingers through his hair, tugging as her walls clenched so tight it was unbearable. He let her cum, kissing her neck and collarbone lovingly, running his hands over her soft breasts. Every day and every night, you will be loved like a goddess and a slut, my blossom, because you are mine.

#bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard fanfiction #willard russell #willard russel x reader #the devil all the time #x reader #fluff and smut

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minkyungseokie · 6 months

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Actors

Where I write for an actor or any of the characters they have played

Bill Skarsgård

Bill Istvan Günther Skarsgård is a Swedish actor best known for portraying Pennywise in the horror films It and It Chapter Two

Jacob Elordi

Jacob Elordi is an Australian actor known for Euphoria, The Kissing Booth film series, and Priscilla

Jeff Ward

Jeff Ward is an American actor. He is best known for his role as Deke Shaw in Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D

Peter Gadiot

Alan-Peter Gadiot is a British actor. Gadiot is best known for his role as James Valdez in the USA Network show Queen of the South and for his role as Shanks in the One Piece Live Action

Milo Manheim

Milo Manheim is an American actor. He is known for his starring role as Zed in the 2018 Disney Channel Original Movie Zombies

Pearce Joza

Pearce Joza is an American actor, known for Mech-X4, Lab Rats, and Zombies 2 + 3

Charlie Bushnell

Charlie Bushnell is an actor portraying Luke Castellan in the Disney+ adaptation of Percy Jackson and the Lightning Theif

Taz Skyler

Tarek Yassin “Taz” Skylar is a Spanish and English actor and screenwriter based in London. Kown to play Sanji in OPLA

Iñaki Godoy

Iñaki Godoy Jasso s a Mexican actor who is known for his role as Juan Ruiz in The Imperfects (2022) and Monkey D. Luffy in Netflix's One Piece Live Action

Morgan Davies

Morgan Davies is an trans Australian actor known for playing Koby in the One Piece Live Action. I love him sm

Tom holland + Zendaya Coleman

Thomas Stanley Holland is an English actor known for Spiderman Zendaya Maree Stoermer Coleman is an American actress and singer Spiderman, and more

Timothée Chalamet

Timothée Hal Chalamet is an American and French actor and producer.

Jacob Romero

Jacob Romero Gibson is an American actor. He is best known for playing Usopp in the Netflix series One Piece

Finlay MacMillan

Scottish actor who plays Enoch O'Connor in the film adaptation of Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children

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dreamilymagicalhideout · 1 year

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Coat

It has been a really long time since I posted something on tumblr. This was made from the bottom of my heart since I don't want to work, but I have to because I have to pay my bills *sad*. Here it is, I hope you guys like it.

Marquis Vincent de Gramont x f!reader

You take off your high heels and put it on the side. Your socks still cling to your feet. You were walking through your bedroom. Feeling the cold ties below you. You look around the fancy apartment, searching for Vincent.

You told him that you wanted to meet him to talk about something, which he did not reply as he seemed to be sulking at you because you were too busy with your work these days. He felt like you neglected him and yes, you have to admit that it is true.

This month was the last month of your contract. Your company wanted to extend it. However, you on the other hand, was not keen on the idea. You just worked there because you have bills to pay. It's not like it is your dream job or something. You just have to work because you need money. But all of it has changed since Vincent entered your life.

That tall handsome man with expensive suits managed to entered your life somehow, despite all the differences between the two of you. It has been a year since you met him. You still remember your first meeting with him. Your company was known to be a technological company who offered a course for a middle aged workers who happens to be lost in this digital era. And it turns out that your boss was an acquaintance of him.

:readmore:

You met him at the company's party. Which he attended and surprisingly you were invited too. Later, you found out that the reason that you and some of the workers were invited was just because of their good looks.

It was clear that everyone who attended this party was out of your league. You were glad that you were not overdressed, however it seems like it was a good idea to search for fresh air for a moment.

You were greeted by a cold air once you opened the glass door. Now you regretted choosing this type of dress where there is a low cut on your chest and a puffy shoulders. Which now make you felt cold. Even if you had a long skirt, it did not help a lot because your feet still have goosebumps.

Maybe it was not a good idea to step out here. However, going back in is not a pleasant idea either because you really loves solitude.

"You must be cold in that dress" Said someone behind you.

"Thanks for stating the obvious" you turned your head, wanted to see who was talking with you now.

"You're most welcome" He said with a smug smile on his oh-so-handsome face. You could see his face as he stood next to you. His tall body towering you even with those high heels on. You can tell that everyone here has expensive suits. However, his was seemed to be on a whole different level. His hair was styled neatly, making his forehead visible. Those long legs bent a little as he was talking to you.

"I am sorry if I interrupt your space here" You said with the intention of returning his rudeness.

"No problem" He said as he just standing beside you. You both were just standing there without talking, but it was not a comfortable silence when you see the scenery in front of you and he was just standing there while looking at you, making you felt agitated.

I mean should he introduce himself first since he was the one who interrupted your space?

"My mom said it was rude to just stare and not introducing myself. So Y/n" You introduce yourself first since you know he did not plan on introducing himself first.

"Marquis Vincent de Gramont" well that explains the accent.

"What should I call you?"

"Vincent would be fine"

You actually wanted to just enjoy your time here alone. However, this tall person did not support your idea as he kept staring at you.

"Do you perhaps needs something?" You asked politely.

"Yes"

"Is it possible for me to help you?"

"No"

"Okay"

"I need a coat actually because it is cold here. And from what we have seen here, it seems like you dont have any coat at your disposal"

He was just being a brat.

"Forgive me for not being able to fulfill the things that you need" You said sarcastically.

"That's fine actually, you don't need to feel bad" He said playing along with you.

"You are so ungentlemanly" You said while looking at his face.

"That was my sex appeal"

"…"

You are just keep staring at anywhere but him, but those eyes still clings into you somehow. You pretend like he did not have any affect on you. As if those green eyes did not make your face burning.

"It seems like you have felt warmer somehow" He could see that your face turns redder than before. You open your mouth to say something, but your brain just freeze, so you closed your mouth. Then, you can feel someone coming, you saw someone in a black suit walking closer. You looked at Vincent while he just looking at you. Clearly did not care about the guy who was approaching you.

"Sir" The guy is the black suit gave him a white coat. He take it without looking at that guy, he did not even say thank you. His eyes were locked on you. He put the coat around you. You knitted your eyebrows. So when he said he needed a coat he meant this? For you? When did he even get it?

"Searching for a fresh air in the middle of a party where you meet a tall handsome stranger, then he gave you a coat. What could be more cliché than that?" You just stare at him in dazzlement. Literally don't know what to say. He was delighted when he saw your reaction.

"See you later" And then he left. Just like that. Leaving you all speechless. You don't even say thank you to him.

It was such a scene from a movie, however he did not ask your contact or something that could keep both of you stay connected. But somehow, he managed to find you again and make another cliché moments with you until both of you were officially a couple.

Now that you are in your apartmrnt with Vincent. You called out his name, but no one answered. You thought that he might not come since he was still mad at you, so when you saw that there is a 6'4" man sitting at the couch in front of the plasma TV you were a bit surprised.

Here is the sulking man sitting there without any intention to move or answering you. He was in his usual three piece suits. His sleek hair was pushed to the back making his forehead could be seen. He was leaning to the couch, his elbow is on the arm rest while his fingers is on his forehead. Seems like someone was bored and angry.

"Well, hello there" You greeted him while you sat next to him. You've got no response from him.

"Did you wait too long?" He was still silent.

You wrapped your hands around his arms. He swayed a little but he held himself from doing so.

"I have a news that I would like to share with you" You tried to be clingy at him, batting your eyelashes as you soften your voice. He seems to be insterested as his eyes were looking at you.

"What is it?" Oh! It speaks!

"You must be pleased to hear it" he arched his eyebrows, waiting for your next words.

"I am no longer working because my contract has ended" You were looking at him in the eyes while you said that. You could see the glimmer in his eyes as you said those words.

"WelI, I have you all to myself then" He said as he starts to wrap his arms around you. His body which seemed to be unmoved was now moving to you.

"What do you mean? I'm always yours" You said with the smile on your lips. You could tell that he was amused when his lips turned into a smile too.

"I like where this conversation is going" he studied your face as you look at him.

"I see that you are now unemployed. Now I hired you as my Personal Assistant"

"Is this serious?"

"Deadly serious. Now come on" He held your hand as he guided you through the front door.

"Where are we going?" You realized that he has changed now, back then he was just dragging you around anywhere by your arms or wrist. Now he he did not do that anymore, he held your hands and pull you with him slowly.

"Your first job, darling. We are going to Paris" he said with a lopsided grin on his face. You could tell that he was no longer mad at you.

"I haven't even packed my things"

"You don't have to do that, it's fine"

"We haven't signed the contract yet"

"There is no contract, you are already a permanent workers" Now you know that he was just joking.

"Wait, my shoes" You are now in front of your apartment without any shoes on. The height difference between you and him are now palpable as he walked in long strides and your short feet need to catch up to them.

"You don't need those shoes"

"It seems more like a kidnapping than a work"

"Either way you love it" his smile got wider as he said that.

"Tu es un morveuse mais heureusement je t'aime" He said smugly.

(You're a brat, but luckily I love you)

"Speak English" You protested.

"Oh wait je t'aime means i love you, right?"

"I don't know. What do you think?" He asked back.

"You should teach me more French"

"Say 'je veux te baiser'"

(I want to fuck you)

He said that with a glint on his eyes and a smirked that fully morphed on his lips. He was still looking at you while walking. Really waiting for you to say those words.

"I got a feeling that somehow it was not the right thing to say"

And just like that you are now on a plane to Paris. You currently have nothing to worry about. The days of having to get up early in the morning to pay your bills were gone. The man beside you could take care of that as his outfit right now costs even more than your salary in one year even with bonuses on.

*fin*

Yes! I fell deeply in love with bill. By the way, I apologize if the French was wrong because I use google translate:). I hope to see you again in my next writing soon. Until then, take care.

#marquis vincent de gramont #marquis vincent de gramont x reader #imagine #john wick #john wick 4 #fluff #soft #vincent de gramont fanfiction #bill skarsgard

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anastasiaskarsgard · 5 months

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Can you do a one shot where the reader is getting harassed by someone in a fancy party and while running away, the marquis backs her up and gets her away from that guy. They talk and they start to bond

“How do you even know these people?” You ask your friend Bethany, as she drives up the driveway of a massive estate.

You’d been driving towards the sprawling mansion for at least a mile. The grounds were all manicured and as you got closer to the home, you could see a large fountain before the entrance. There was even a valet.

Turning to your friend, you asked her again, but she just laughed and shrugged her shoulders. Rolling your eyes, you checked yourself out in the visor mirror and decided to reapply your lipstick.

You’d known Bethany since grade school, and you never were really close, but you’d party together sometimes. Her mother had married some rich guy a few years back, so now she ran in a different crowd.

When she’d called you earlier today and asked if you wanted to go to a party, you’d been excited just to see her again. Now you weren’t so sure. She’d changed a lot.

No more was the sweet girl that snorted when she laughed and only wore sneakers. She looked like she had gotten several cosmetic procedures, was dressed head to toe in designer couture, and had made you go change your outfit twice before she’d let you in her car.

Speaking of her car, you’d never been in a Bentley and felt very nervous about messing it up. You had been nervous to sully the car with yourself, and had felt like you were in some alternate reality.

As the valet opened your door and helped you out of the car, you didn’t feel any less out of place.

“Don’t embarrass me.” Bethany whispered to you as she took you by the arm and led you up the stairs to the front door: “you’re the only one from my old neighborhood that looks the part, if you can just act like it, we can go to more parties like this and maybe you can meet a rich guy and get out of the slums as well. “

Your eyes widened at her insult of her prior neighborhood. It wasn’t the slums at all! Your neighborhood was an upper middle class working people type neighborhood. The houses were average size and everyone took pride in their appearance. There were no run down homes in your neighborhood, and you all looked out for each other. Like when Mrs Dewey’s husband died and she was on a fixed income, and couldn’t paint the exterior of her home, the whole neighborhood got together and made a day of it. She cooked everyone a meal and next thing you knew it was a block party. Bethany had been there that day, and you remember how happy and carefree you both had felt.

Looking over at your friend now, hardly recognizable with her new nose, lips, and face injected with fillers, new hair that must be extensions, fake tan, fake nails, fake tits, fake lashes, fake teeth, and likely a bunch of other things you didn’t know to look for, you couldn’t help but feel bad for her. You couldn’t imagine allowing some doctor to butcher you into something society liked to look at. Everything that had made her different, and truly beautiful was gone.

As you followed your friend inside, you were too distracted by how similar all the women here looked to even notice the ostentatious wealth that surrounded you. Everywhere you looked you saw women that were thin with breasts and bums that didn’t look like natural proportions. They all seemed to have the same nose and lip doctor, and all appeared to be variations of the same kind of doll.

Offhandedly, you wondered how much time these women spent healing. You’d never had any work done, beyond getting your wisdom teeth taken out, but that probably didn’t count.

“Hello? Where did you go? Come back to earth, I want you to meet my friends, and I swear to God, if you embarrass me girl…” Bethany warned you, with a fake smile for appearances on her face.

Noticing a group of people looking expectantly between the two of you, you could already tell by the way they looked you over, that you weren’t going to like them. Pushing those thoughts to the back of your mind, you decided to make the best of this night, and not judge anyone before you spoke to them.

Bethany introduced you as her childhood friend, and then listed a brief list of your accomplishments and interests, as if she were at a livestock auction, talking up the next beast up for sale.

They appeared to be 3 couples and one single man, that had walked up half way through Bethany’s introduction and visibly flustered Bethany when she turned to see him standing there.

You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing as she stumbled over her words, before falling into an awkward half bow, half curtsy turning the color of a stop sign.

Although the man was extremely statuesque, attractive, and well dressed, he also appeared to be no older than his late twenties and appeared to be friendly. Maybe she had a crush on him? You didn’t know, but you did know you were thirsty.

Looking around the large Ballroom, you could see a bar not far from your group, and decided to just go grab some drinks while your friend got her wits about her. She just needed a drink to take the edge off.

As the bartender prepared your Long Island ice teas, you turned at the sound of someone clearing their throat right next you.

It was one of your friends acquaintances, so you smiled and turned your attention back to your drinks being made.

“So why did you run away? Scared of the Marquis, or just don’t find any of us appealing?” He asked you.

Looking at him incredulously, you shook your head and told him that taken men weren’t your type. “Furthermore, I don’t even know if anyone even holds a Marquis title anymore. Last time I checked, most of the aristocracy was wiped out during the Revolution.”

“That whore isn’t my girlfriend. She’s been run through by more guys than your dear friend Bethany. They’re just a bunch of spoiled rich girls, that me and my boys are sick of, so we told them to bring us fresh meat.” The guy chuckled, before reaching over and taking a piece of your hair between his fingers. “This is your real hair isn’t it? I’ve never seen you before, and I would have noticed you.”

Feeling extremely uncomfortable, you side stepped away from him, and decided to just ignore him. You knew guys like this, and nothing you said to defend your friend, or tell him what a jerk he was, would be able to penetrate his ego.

“You really have no idea who I am do you?” He asked as he took your hand in his and tried to pull you back over to him.

Planting your feet firmly, and flashing him your fakest smile, you attempted to pull your hand from his, but he was gripping it so tightly, it was almost painful. Not wanting to make a scene, you blocked out what he was saying into your ear, and nearly jumped for joy when the bartender delivered your drinks.

“Looks like I need my hand back,” you told him, batting your eyelashes at him, like you weren’t desperate to escape him. “I need to carry our drinks.”

Glancing at the two drinks before you, he pulled you closer to him, with an expression on his handsome face that you were sure he thought was alluring. Too bad it had the opposite effect on you.

“Listen buddy, I’m trying to be polite, but if you don’t let my hand go, we are going to have a problem.” You bit out, unwilling to be touched by this jerk another second.

He cocked an eyebrow and smirked down at you arrogantly, “ooh so you’re from the working class. Lucky for you, so am I. You look like you belong here, but you really just won the DNA lottery and look this way naturally. You see, every woman in this room pays me hundreds of thousands of dollars to look like you. I must say tho, you are exquisite. I’ve never said this to anyone, but I don’t think you need anything done. Maybe some nice fuller breasts? Would you like that? I can make that happen for you. I could make anything you want happen.”

You were shocked by the things this guy was saying to you, and it only got worse, the more he spoke. “Are you fucking with me? Bethany had to have put you up to this right?” You laughed out loud at how long it took you to catch on to the prank. No one was this delusional. When your laughing calmed a bit and you turned to see his dumbfounded face, you burst out laughing again.

“Oh my God! Ok ok! You can stop. You’re an amazing actor. I honestly thought you were seriously some ego maniac that I was going to have kick in the balls to eacape from!” You watched as his expression grew more confused, before his jaw tightened, lips thinned and he glared menacingly at you.

That wasn’t good. Once again unsure of this man’s intentions, you snatched your hand away, picked up the drinks, and made a mad dash to Bethany.

Finding Bethany still speaking to the mystery guy, you quietly stood next to her and placed the drink in her hand. Before you could introduce yourself, Mr. Wonderful stormed over, had excused himself and said he had to speak to Bethany about a pressing matter.

Bethany looked at you accusingly, but let the guy pull her off to the side.

“Pressing matter my foot.” You stated out loud, forgetting you weren’t alone.

“I think you have hurt Andres feelings.”

Turning to the mystery man, you rolled your eyes and smiled. “Only if he was honestly hitting on me, and not just playing a prank on me. Bethany and I used to mess with people all the time. We were terrible children. He’s probably upset I caught on. He acted like he was some big plastic surgeon, that has run through all the women here, so he ordered Bethany and her friends to bring them new sacrifices. He even offered me new boobs, and I laughed so hard I think I peed a little.”

The man’s eyebrows drew together and he asked if you needed assistance cleaning up, or a change of clothes and you couldn’t help but warm to him a bit.

“I didn’t literally pee, it’s an expression. And I’m afraid to ask why you have spare women’s clothing in your car or something.” You said.

“I have clothing of various sizes in one of the guest -“ he started to say before being cut off.

“I’m sorry Marquis, but I need to take her back home,” Bethany stated overly cheerily.

“Why?” You asked.

Bethany gave you an exasperated look. “I’ll tell you on the way to the car.”

“Why can’t you just tell me now? Is it because of your creep of a friend?”

Bethany’s eyes widened and she looked between you and the Marquis close to snapping.

“I don’t think your friend wants to leave.” The Marquis started.

“She’s not my friend. She’s an acquaintance from years ago. I thought she was cool, but turns out she’s not.” Bethany stated, before turning to you again. “It’s time to go. You wore out your welcome, and they don’t want you here.”

Your mind started to race with what to do. You honestly weren’t too shocked that Bethany had turned on you so quick. You internally cringed when you realized that guy wasn’t kidding and had been being serious.

You contemplated telling Bethany what her “friend” thought of her, but before you could organize what to say, the Marquis stepped between you and Bethany, facing her.

“I’ve got her from here. You may go join your friends.” He said.

“With all due respect, I brought her here. She’s nobody. Just a girl I used to know that’s pretty, so I brought her here to meet my friends but she thinks she’s too good for everyone and was really rude to him for no reason.” Bethany explained.

The Marquis just chuckled shaking his head. “I know Andre very well, and I can guarantee there’s a reason.” Turning his back to her in dismissal, he offered for you to take his hand.

Glancing over his shoulder at Bethany’s furious expression, you turned your attention to the nice mystery Marquis, and followed him to the dance floor.

#bill skarsgard #marquis de gramont #the Marquis #Marquis Drabble #Marquis fluff #answered #my writing

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twistedbloodstain · 1 year

Text

keith toshko x reader: and you feel like home. | what’s love for us?

plot: the one where keith meets the one.

warnings: grumpy! reader, sensitive language (just cursing yall), pining from keith, himself and there’s no happy ending. (ambiguous)

masterlist

keith watches her.

a sweet melody produced from the violin and the bow echoes from the cavernous hall. she sat on a monoblock chair as she played the tune printed on the sheet paper. fur elise dances through his ears as he stands on the second floor, mesmerized with her movements. her eyes were shut, but her hands were focused on the instrument on her hands, as if she and the object were one.

he watches her in admiration. he always enjoyed watching people play their thing, there was always a certain aura that passionate musicians bring whenever they were in their element. this was no different, he could feel the devotion radiating through the place as you played.

her posture was stiff and composed, like her grip on the musical instrument, her hands gripped the instrument almost too tightly as if it was bound to her like chains. but there was lovely passion it emitted, like the violin was her lifeline. she was focused, extremely focused. right now, no one could deter her from playing.

as the music slowly comes to an end, she flutters her eyes open and her shoulders relax. she gets up on her feet and reaches for her case slinged on the chair to delicately place the violin back to its proper space when unused, keith feels tempted to clap and applaud for her piece because indeed, it was beautiful but he was afraid he might come off as a creep stalking on you.

he was already awkward to talk to, fumbling and rambling his words and often saying the wrong things or being excessively blunt with who he was speaking to, it was all unintentional but if that wasn’t enough it would be really bad if he came across as another dude ogling at a girl from the second floor, primarily as it doesn’t leave a good impression when initiating conversation.

he’s supposed to leave but he can’t. there’s a pull in him that wants to converse with her even if he’s not really good with it, he can at least try. he always welcomed an exchange of a fellow musician’s words and talent. but he contemplated wondering how would he even approach her or what words he’d say to her that wouldn’t lead to an unpleasant strain floating through the air.

silence always meant neutrality. not in his case though, silence often deepened the grave of awkwardness, making him contemplate to himself with the next set of words he would say but only for the person he’s addressing to completely lose interest and cough up an excuse to leave.

keith knows how to converse, there are several people who are proof of that excluding his family. he has spoken comfortably and smoothly with strangers that sometimes lead to intriguing conversations, it’s just that when it comes to speaking with him. you need to be patient, to hear and listen to what he has to say. the people who lost interest when speaking to him were often straightforward people who rolled their eyes at his rambling which only makes him ramble even more, when he visibly sees their annoyance.

nevertheless,he does know his worth as a person. he knows that if they’re not interested with what he has to say then they’re not worth hearing it. but with you he might be willing to make an exception,he really wants to speak with you.

he decides to just wave at her when she turns around. simple. then maybe he can catch up on her at the exit, foolproof.

he feels like a wildlife photographer attempting to take a picture with a deer, except it’s a trap of conversation with little to no chances of failing.

his plan makes him smile, glad that somehow he might not fuck up his first impression with you but fate seems to always have it out for him, whenever he has a chance to do something simple in his life some inevitable force out there comes back to throttle his neck and ruin everything.

because before he can make the friendly gesture you’ve already turned around to face the sea of chairs and him on the terrace of the second floor. your face is slightly astounded from the sight of him, likely confused why he was watching you, staring at him hardly with a firm curiosity in your eyes.

for a moment keith panics and freezes from your stare, you don’t seem pleased to see him. out of dismay, keith suddenly raises his hand and waves, too eagerly.

you blink at him and raise your eyebrows then just gaze at him. like really hard, your frown deepens at his gesture, still frozen on your spot with bow and violin on hand. your frozen state is nothing out of shock though, not like a deer in headlights but something like a lion awakened from slumber in their cave.

as if that wasn’t making him more nervous than he already is, the worst thing is you made no friendly gesture to reciprocate his wave and he realizes that it basically cemented that his presence was unwanted by you.

he flinches on the inside and slowly backs away, he can feel your eyes wander on him as he disappears.

he stumbles through the rows of books in deep thought, searching for the specific textbook his friend asked him to fetch. he was already looking for it for the past thirty minutes, he began to doubt the sharp memory of the librarian since she mentioned that it would be easy to find. she’d told him that he’d find it nearly five rows behind, every row looking more and more ancient than his own grandparents.

as he trudged through, he couldn’t help but reminisce of what happened earlier. annoyance and shame filling his veins as he remembers the details of the short encounter.

idiot, of course she didn’t like that. why the hell would she wave back at a stranger? he muses to himself.

he realizes that maybe that approach didn’t seem as friendly as he'd envisioned in his head. perhaps, he should’ve done that somewhere closer so you wouldn’t immediately shut down his approach. your silence was quiet but it spoke volumes, there were always things that even words cannot do justice.

he checks the titles in the spines of the previous books he saw, maybe he missed it and he was already wasting his time. it’s not like he was in a rush, after all today was some sort of a self imposed day off. right now, he has all the time in the world. however the current shame he possessed right now made the day feel longer than it should be and the desire to hide himself in his room and sleep off the shame was tempting.

he hears the voices of students chatting about certain academic tasks or homeworks a terror professor had assigned and the footfalls of exhausted learners as they searched for a book containing a piece of information that the internet doesn’t offer. looks near impossible, but the chances are low but never zero.

he senses someone enter the aisle between the two rows of books, he doesn’t look back, probably another stressed out and sleep deprived college student that wants to drop out. he feels the individual walk past behind him, he focuses back to the books lined up on the shelf, double checking if he missed the proper textbook he was looking for.

he hears someone clear their throat.

he ignores it and focuses on the books.

dry throat, probably. likely, not trying to get his attention.

someone clears their throat again.

this time, he uninterestedly spares a quick glance to the source of that sound then returns to the textbooks.

wait.

holy shit.

he hastily snaps his gaze back up.

god, it’s you.

no. not like god from heaven.

but you. the one playing the violin earlier.

you stand several paces before him, with a strap across your torso, your violin case strapped behind your back out of his sight. your face is stern and unreadable, your hands clasped together in a composed structure.

his eyes widen and the hold he has with the books slowly weakens, almost dropping one of them on the floor. it’s not until he reminds himself that earlier he’d embarrassed himself to you and that cannot happen again. he won’t afford looking like a fool to you for the second time, once is a coincidence and twice is an insult.

his jaw slightly drops from shock and confusion, he blinks a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating you because that would make it even worse and more embarrassing for him.

“hi.” he breaks the silence, slowly waving his hand to you for the second time that day.

you don’t return the gesture or verbalize a reply, for a second keith wonders if he actually conjured you out of thin air because of his shame with how quiet and still you are. which would be even weirder if he saw it as an opportunity to redeem himself, still unsure with the fact if you are standing in front of him right now.

“who are you?” you finally sternly ask, although not a greeting keith is glad that you’re actually speaking to him and he didn’t hallucinate you being here.

“i’m..keith.” he hesitantly replies at the strictness evident in your tone. as a friendly gesture he extends his hand for a polite handshake, you carefully eye his movement and stare at his hand then back at his face.

“..okay.” you mutter slightly in confusion, “you from here?” you question him, the strict tone maintained in your voice.

“um, no actually. i used to go here but..it was years ago.” he meekly replies ending with a chuckle to lighten the mood. your face slightly squints from that piece of information. he deduces that you are not currently studying here as well, maybe a college graduate just like him or a teacher. you didn’t seem too young to be fresh out of school or sleep deprived like most college students are.

in fact, you were confident, in a quiet sense. anyone could read that with the way you carried yourself. the effect that you carry was an accomplished and determined aura that radiated strong enough to momentarily stun everyone in the room and enough to catch someone’s pair of eyes and intimidate if you were to speak to them.

the polished and elegant impact you have oozes through every patch of skin you wield, it numbs him as well. your aura demanded the utmost attention like it was speaking to a god.

“that so? what are you doing here?” you follow up. keith starts to feel he’s being interrogated for information, he doesn’t know what goal you're aiming at but he’s happy to comply.

“just visiting with a friend.” he replies.

“i mean, what were you doing in the theater room?” you clear up, accentuating every word with intimidation as your voice hardens, you raise your eyebrow at him with your arms crossed.

you were definitely not making friendly conversation.

“i was just watching..you play.” he mutters softly, that isn’t something he’s proud of but it’s the truth. there wasn’t wrong with that, he hadn’t done anything wrong. it felt like being stabbed when you already didn’t look pleased to see him watching you play in the theater, any brunt of your irritation would definitely feel like twisting the knife.

“and?” you follow up.

“you played really great, to be honest.” he smiles as he compliments you. a sweet compliment for a pretty girl.

…get it together keith, he reminds himself.

“there.” you harshly point out, your voice slightly rising. keith’s eyes widened once again, with the burst of tone emitting from that single word. this makes him frown as the intended effect for that compliment gave an undesired result.

“what?” he asks out of confusion.

“you were watching me play. you said it yourself.” you assert to him.

“i was…i was watching you play fur elise. something wrong with that?” he repeats once again, still not catching your drift.

“oh? don’t play dumb with me. i know your fucking game, are you one of irene’s new toys for this month? you were spying on me for that good for nothing bitch!” you mercilessly yammer at him, this takes him off guard. shock and confusion envelops his senses as you quickly spit out your bitterness at him.

the deer didn’t fall into the trap and shot him instead.

why in the world were you accusing him of something deplorable? at least to you it seems, he doesn’t even know anyone named irene, much less spying for someone? completely absurd, you were borderline insane.

he always had this inside joke with himself where most violinists are insane overachievers, always seeking to please the almost high to perfect standards of their parents which lead them to seek and mold perfection into everything as they grow into their life. like the instrument, violins require a strict precision of understanding and time to master to achieve perfection, and like their parents they’ll need to hit the right tune to make their parents play the sweet sound of validation.

everything in their life from their image and daily routine must be flawless and according to their will. a single disruption that occurs to them completely throws them off track breaking down their walls revealing their uncontrolled anger.

anger for what he could not tell. but right now he could tell you might fit into that stereotype.

“hey-hey. i don’t know anyone named irene, i have no idea what you’re talking about.” he clears up as he explains to you and raises one of his hands.

“don’t fucking lie to me.” you retort in anger.

“miss. i don’t know what you’re talking about, i watched you because you did great. i did nothing wrong and i’m not lying to you.” he defends himself, at the end he couldn’t help but laugh. clearly, there’s nothing funny about invoking rage from someone but he laughed and honestly he shouldn’t have.

“are you laughing at me?!” your voice slightly raises, full of anger and fury. bad move, christ there’s literally a saying hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

“i’m-i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to, but i’m telling you the truth.” he shuts his laugh down and reassures you.

you stare at him and scoff. you eye him from top to bottom, your arms still folded on your chest. you turn away from him and walk away.

that went worse than earlier.

keith’s hand slowly shakes as he raises the glass of water to his lips, he takes a short sip of the water before delicately placing it back down. a friend inquires how he was and his current agendas in life, he politely answers a little more carefully with his words than he usually replies, his friend notices and laughs at this raising his eyebrow in a teasing suspicious manner, his eyes darting then nudging his head to the person to his right.

he hopes you don’t look at his friend. please don’t.

you were currently sitting across from him, knife and fork on hand as you nibbled away on your dinner, momentarily lifting your gaze at him. probably scrutinizing him as he sat across from the dinner table.

this was unexpected.

he couldn’t forget how wide your eyes went when you entered the dining room and saw him sitting beside your brother,

what were the chances of him eating dinner in your brother’s house? the chances of eating the dinner you and your brother made?

little…very little.

yet it’s happened.

fate really has it out for him.

earlier he was merely watching you play from yards and one floor away, you had him mesmerized and amazed with your musical talent, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you even during the talk in the library.

you were even more magnificent to see up close with only a few meters away from him, albeit the exchange ended rather unpleasant but he feels like it’s something to be thankful for, maybe it’s your aura or words that have a magnetic pull on him to keep his attention focused on you and you only.

or maybe because he finds you really intriguing.

or maybe he’s festering a little crush on you.

whatever.

now you are at least half a meter away from him and he can’t bear to look upon you. he wants to look up, so badly. but whenever he sneaked a glance , his sight was greeted with a mouth turned into a frown and eyes full of judgment, it made him hastily drop his gaze back onto the plate of food in front of him.

you, your brother and another friend of his were seated by the table, it had been lively at first. intoxicating stories and diatribes filled the room that made him forget the awkward encounter he had earlier. it felt good to talk and listen with them. he got to know about the current stuff in their life and it was nice to catch up with them. it was nice to air out thoughts he felt during tight situations that he often shoved down into the back of his head.

he began to tell them about his encounter with a girl earlier, when a click of the door creaked through the hall. the voices in the dining room began to stop, the brother called someone into the living room but no reply indicated a presence aside from the sound of entry and the thudding footsteps clicking on the floor.

he knew that his friend had family currently living in the house, he was slightly pleased with the thought of meeting the anonymous member since his friend had spoken highly of them. he often guessed it might be a sibling or cousin but no further detail was given due to how sacred you saw privacy was to you, to recount his friend’s words he said,

“i can’t tell you more than that, we’re related but they’re insanely private. like obsessed with it, they don’t want anyone to know about them unless they had met you firsthand but you’re meeting them tonight. think you’ll like them the most keith.” he says with a smile at the end.

who was to doubt that? he liked that friend very much and if this privacy obsessed mysterious person was someone he would’ve liked then it shouldn’t be a problem.

he had this vision that this stranger might be a welcoming and sweet person that would be easy to get along with, like his friend. he expected someone shy and anxious like most privacy obsessed people are. people, who are frightful of people getting to know them so hopefully it wouldn’t feel forced and still he was eager to meet said person.

but then you went through the door and broke his fantasy.

he feels his heart drop and his throat go dry.

your feet stay stationary by the entrance of the dining room, the voices of his peers slowly tuning out his ears as dread and shame sinks into his gut. your eyes filled with curiosity and sternness. once again his presence was unwelcome to you.

your right hand clasps your left wrist as you redirect your attention to his friend who is making his way to you. the formal stature you’ve reformed yourself to, soon cracked as his friend greets you to a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

oh god. had he been crushing on a friend’s girlfriend? he panics.

of course you had a boyfriend, even he was smitten with you before he even spoke a word to you. he wasn’t the only one attracted to the way you carry yourself, the way you spoke and the way you played. it had left his mind as the unexpected interactions with you jumped into his face.

his friend places his hand on your shoulder, further cementing his assumption that you two were together, until his friend speaks.

“boys, this is my lovely sister.” he cheerily introduces, “that’s james and that’s keith.” he adds, gesturing to the both of them.

his friend that remained sat on the chair, james greeted you and waved as you turned your gaze at him, when it was his turn he couldn’t help but force a tight smile for you, gripping the cutlery from discomfort.

he waits for you to speak as you take them in.

he doesn’t know what to expect from you. he doesn’t know what you were going to say.

he slightly expects you to call him out as the guy earlier in the theater and in the library. he expects you to confront him and maybe…just maybe kick him out of the house.

“i don’t think you’ve ever mentioned them to me.” you utter out.

he exhales.

okay, maybe he can salvage this.

but salvage what exactly?

your brother laughs at this and insists he did. he jokes about you being too immersed in your current engagements while he was talking about them, he motions for you to sit down with them.

now he found himself sitting across from you.

the dinner he previously enjoyed now felt like acid in his mouth as he forced it down his throat. your presence had shocked him to his core, as much as he wants to relish in this get together. the sight of you made his hands shake and his heart beat a little faster than normal.

he feels like a child when he’s around you.

that somehow and somewhat the way he breathes is wrong to you.

you reach out for the pitcher of water near him, he grabs it and you look up on him in surprise. your eyes dilate from his sudden movement and you stare at him for a while. thankfully, james and your brother were busy talking with each other and they didn’t notice the both of you.

you were still hesitant of him. that’s okay, he understands.

right now, you probably saw him as a stalker that creeped on you while playing the violin and you were probably frightened that he was now in your house and your brother’s friend.

you slowly present the intricately designed glass cup in your hand, he smiles to himself at this while he pours the water into your cup. you quietly thank him and resume eating your meal.

maybe he can fix this. maybe the both of you can talk this out.

the next time he sees you is at a christmas party, back in your house.

he knows much more about you during that and he saw you several more times when he visited your place. the interactions were much more polite and courteous compared to the first and second time.

people have always been greedy. greedy for money, power and for love, it turns them into monsters when greed looms behind them, because of that he’s learned to be content with what he hashas and know the differences between greed and ambition.

so why does he want to hear more of you?

yes, the both of you are “talking.” if you count simple pleasantries and courtesies but it feels forced and unpleasant for you. he feels like you’re only speaking but not talking, if that makes sense.

the heavy chatter of conversation is present through the living room, he notices a few friends and some of your family speaking away to their peers.

you aren’t there.

i mean, you were but you left,when people started to surge into the room.

you don’t like crowds.

and loud noises.

a grain of what your brother told you was true, you are privacy obsessed. no wonder you’re absent in the living room.

keith’s not talking to anyone right now,

not when you’re the person he wants to talk to and the only person he knows other than your brother.

he’s also drunk.

he’s been sitting here for several minutes hoping you’d come down to the living roomroom and maybe he could catch up with you.

he contemplates just leaving,seeing that you’re not going to come down.

before he can get up to leave, he hears a soft tune above the room. it’s you.

he knows it is.

he looks around and looks around but nobody except him seems to hear it, too immersed in conversation to hear the sound of the gates of heaven above them.

he slowly gets up with his drink in hand and makes his way to the stairs. he’s getting alcohol induced to function and think properly, he doesn’t get this bold much.

he softly walks up making sure not to step on the creaking wood of the stairs, as the tune sounds more clear to his ears. he doesn’t know where he’s headed but all he knows he needs to hear it.

it’s like a siren’s song to a weak-willed sailor, like a sleeping beauty being lured into her demise as he gets to the second floor and follows the sound of music to one of the rooms. once he realizes that he might be entering your room, he stops his movement and opts to just listen outside. he can learn to be content with the small opening of your door as long as he hears you play.

he leans his back to the wall, relishing in the piece as you come to an end. this forces him back to reality and realizes he needs to go should you come out of the room. he’s had a taste of your anger and rejection, he doesn’t need a spoonful again.

“you can come in.” a voice calls out.

he freezes, you know he’s there. he wonders if he should speak up or keep his mouth shut for a while and leave or come inside to you. he decided the former, so much for wanting to talk to her that he chickens out in the chance she’s given him.

“are you gonna come in or not?” you said getting annoyed with the lack of his reply.

fuck, fuck, fuck. how did you know? he’s sure he was silent when he made his way up here. did you have an extra set of senses he wasn’t aware of? you didn’t notice him the first time, what made you notice it now?

he’s still frozen on his feet, in a deep dilemma with what to do next. he keeps his eyes on the wall in front of him and doesn’t make a single sound.

“hey.” the voice calls out again.

he keeps quiet.

until something makes contact on his shoulder. a nudge. someone nudged him.

he looks back and sees you beside the door. in all your glory, your hand on the door knob slightly opening it for enough space for someone to pass through. he didn’t hear you walk up or the door creaking for entry. your eyes were on him, gone was the scrutiny and judgment but the annoyance was still there with a tinge of softness.

you look beautiful.

you look..nice, his breath hitches on his throat as his words are unable to leave. you stare at him in confusion so he walks in, with no words to reply at you.

as he enters he sees your bedroom, some clutter on the floor he notices your violin perched on the chair and some books scattered on the ground. he looks back and sees you standing there, motionless and silent.

he waits for you to say something before he does something. you leisurely make your way towards him and he stands to the side to make way for you. you don’t say anything as you kneel down into the floor and start opening the books with the lamplight on the side table illuminating luminescence for light reading.

“you can sit down.”

keith contemplates where to sit down. on the floor with you? on your bed? or on that loveseat beside the side table. keith decides to sit down next to you, just to be polite.

silence fills the air into your room. none of you speak a word, too nervous or too awkward to converse. keith realizes that this is the third time the both of you were alone and the second time you sought his company.

he assumes that his presence doesn’t agitate you, at least right now. right now, he’s sitting on the floor, his knees pressed up to his chest and his drink abandoned beside him.

you flip through the books,your back in front of him as you knelt. he notices that they were fictional books. mostly filled with fantasy as he observes the whimsical glossy covers full of intricate symbolism of medieval and magical content. bright tabs are trapped between the pages, you’ve read them before, he realizes. he doesn’t see any books that he’s read before, all unfamiliar to him maybe he can introduce you to a few jane eyre books if you haven’t read them yet.

he perceives that you know his eyes are on you. you look back at him and stare at him. devoid of emotion but there was softness seen in it, keith fiddles with the button of his shirt, nervous under your gaze. you observe this and return your attention to the books.

“keith.” you call out to him.

“..yeah?”

“i wanted..i wanted to apologize. for what i said the other day.” you apologize to him.

keith is..a bit stunned. he expected you to just shove and forget it ever happened considering it had happened a few months ago. your apology has taken too long to arrive, making him assume it would never arrive yet it has just appeared, it’s in your lowly illuminated room and won’t face him.

“it’s okay.” he replies, not adding much to it. what was there to say? you were rude to him that day, for someone to randomly accuse you of something you didn’t do.

“no, it’s not.” you retort, suddenly facing him.

“honestly, it’s okay. i don’t mind.” he assures you. it kinda hurts, he has time to thank for that since it doesn’t ache as much.

“well, you should mind.” you whisper to him as you scoot your way towards him. keith moves over to make space for you on the floor.

holy shit. you’re moving close to him. to him.

the both of you stay silent for a while. your backs pressed on the footboard of your bed. your legs crossed and his remaining pressed to his chest. silence is good. right now it is, the silent aftermath of your apology was like serenity after the storm.

“who’s irene?” keith asks out of nowhere.

your head snaps at him and your face turns unpleasant, like he said the spell to break the curse. forcing you to tear apart your walls and reveal yourself, fuck maybe he did that too early. if you didn’t hate him then maybe you surely do right now.

the burst of anger never comes. you shakily take a breath and ask him.

“you..really don’t know her? irene?” you question your voice slowly getting lower. he’s not sure if he’s seeing this correctly but he can see your eyes slowly tearing up. a sheen of glossiness fills your eye. this was much worse.

you were crying. crying, because of him.

fuck. fuck. fuck.

“i don’t.” he responds honestly, he doesn’t know how to comfort you other than offering you the truth. touching you was certainly out of the table, you look at the floor and toy with the edges of the skirt of your dress.

“fuck it. i really hope you’re telling the truth.” you mutter, “irene was…a friend. we used to play in the same orchestra together, until there was this new first chair position for the theater nearby the campus,” you add.

“i was going to audition for it. so i practiced, i put it a lot of blood,sweat and tears for this piece of..fucking wood. only for it to be botched, by her.” you explain anger and annoyance oozing your tone.

“you wanna know the worst part about that? there was this guy i liked and he’d insist on watching me play and i found it so sweet. i told him all about the audition and everything i was going to do…and he fucking told her.” you ramble, “turns out they were fucking each other, before i found out he stalled me on the day of the audition and the moment i arrived, she was playing. same fucking piece, on my fucking time.”

“i’m sorry. you don’t deserve that.”

“it’s not an excuse for my actions that day but it’s a reason why i’m..wary of everyone around me. especially people who loom on the second floor watching me play. it’s..just that..” you exhale, “ever since that happened i feel angry with everyone, that i didn’t see that coming, that i couldn’t prevent it.” you expound to him.

“i get it, but there’s no way you could’ve” he reassures, you frown at him and scoff “i mean, they had it out for you too.” he adds to his defense.

“it doesn’t matter, i shouldve watched out for myself. there were signs and i was too fucking stupid and lovesick to see it.” you retort, “and i feel more fucking dumb because i look insane when i think someone’s after me, and i just can’t help it because i don’t feel..safe.”

“i understand but it’s not your fault. sometimes people want to bring down great people.” keith does. he had invaded your private space and laughed at your reaction in the library, his invasion and amusement was probably like a flash of the past to your eyes.

the most precious thing to you was ruined by jealous assholes, something that should make you feel free and strong has turned you vulnerable.

“i understand the entire thing but..don’t you think it’s unlikely to happen again?” he ponders to you. the next thing almost breaks him apart.

you smile at him for the first time and it’s the saddest thing ever.

your smile doesn’t reach your ears, it’s sad and remorseful before you deliver the blow.

“it happened more than once.” you quietly say to him.

keith can’t believe his eyes sometimes.

you’re in his apartment for a new year’s day party.

the both of you seemed to have found the floor with his arm searching under the couch for his wallet that got kicked in during the party while you were sweeping the diverse color of confetti splayed on the floor.

he can’t believe that you’re here with him. not that the help is unappreciated but he hadn’t expected you to silently volunteer to come and stay over to help clean up.

he’d invited you, your brother and james to his little party. he was quite ecstatic when he saw you come through the door along with some fancy wine that your brother insisted “bought together” which you rolled your eyes at.

you friendship is better than ever. there was a visible development that he expected that might’ve happened in years but occurred in weeks. in the days after your brother’s christmas party, you two have shared your interest for books and he had attended a few of your shows nearby. sometimes when he came over at your brother’s house you two would talk about stuff…mostly about other people with a few sneaks of memories from the past.

although you were still quiet with him, it wasn’t out of disinterest but simply because you’re quiet and you have nothing to say to him. if you did have something to say you never keep it shut. that was nice and keith actually feels like the both of you are getting somewhere ever since you confessed your unpleasant past to him.

after dinner and some words exchanged while hours passed by, everyone found themselves searching for their which keith did not hold up against them. however when he thought everyone had left, he heard a clink of bottles on the floor in the living room and as he went to check it, he saw you quietly cleaning up the mess.

he called out to you saying that you should go home and he’s got the entire mess covered but you simply ignored him as his words fell on deaf ears.

keith finally feels the familiar leather of his wallet then pulls his arm out of the couch and sighs then reaches for the half finished wine on the coffee table. he calls out to you and urges you to come over.

the both of you are exhausted and should probably rest. he can clean all of this up tomorrow.

you look back at him and hesitate, you don’t look at him like before anymore. there was no annoyance and anger, just softness. it was still devoid of emotion, he thinks that you’re not sure how to behave yourself around him with the fact that first, he wasn’t family and second he’s not an opponent of yours.

to you, he’s just keith.

keith, the guy who likes to watch you play and applauds you every time you finish playing. keith who's been to one of your shows and sometimes treats you to an ice cream session after the event then sometimes shares his favorite parts during the event. keith, the dude who lets your borrow his stash of books and lets your share your thoughts on them for hours and hours. you share to him the parts of the story you liked and your criticisms from the plot.

keith, the guy who has a crush on you.

but you don’t know that, at least he hopes you don’t.

you walk over to him and plop yourself on the floor, next to him. he takes a chug of the wine from the bottle before passing it over to you. you reluctantly take it from him and take a drink, he wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt before setting it down on his lap.

“did you like the party?” he inquires.

“yeah, the food was nice. did you make it all by yourself?” you reply full of curiosity.

“i had a few friends help me over.”

“wise.”

silence occupied them again. a comfortable kind of silence though, the type that didn’t make him feel like he’d said or done something wrong. the time both of you spent together had warped the dynamics of your friendship. you weren’t judging him when you were silent just unsure with what to do, something he picked up along the way.

“how did your date go the other day?” you ask.

your talks together began with your simple interests to the current agendas shared from both ends, he can’t remember if he had told you about it or if you overheard from your brother.

“i don’t think i remember telling you about that.” he chuckles at your question.

“you didn’t, i overheard it from him.” you answer with no remorse.

“overheard? eavesdropping on me aren’t you?” he teases, you immediately scoff and retort in your defense,

“he has a big mouth that keeps chattering day and night. i bet our neighbors know about your date too.” you retort with a little joke at the end. he laughs at this and you chuckle with him.

“well shit. i don’t need your entire neighborhood knowing i’m a loser.” he jokes.

“she shouldn’t have done that.” you frown at his jest and comment when your laughter dies down. keith looks at you from that disclosure and disappointment emerges into his head again.

“well..some things just don’t work out and that’s okay.” he shakes off the dismay from his failed date.

“i mean she could’ve at least informed you she wasn’t going to show up.” you reply ignoring his words,

“why do you sound more angry than i am? what in the world did she ever do to you?” he teases again in false wonder. you scoff at this and face him, clasping his arm with a tight grip.

“you’re a good person, keith.” you state.

“sure, i didn’t see it right away but-that doesn’t matter, anyways what i’m trying to say is that, you’re always too eager to see the good in people. too forgiving that you ignore your own grievances. that’s not okay.” you whisper looking into his eyes.

“i think that eagerness led you here.”

“i know and i’m thankful for that. i’m glad that you’re my friend, i’m glad you gave me a second chance but forgiveness is a two way street. i earned your forgiveness because i confessed my mistake and apologized. you don’t even wait for an apology before you hand out forgiveness!” you exclaim. keith tries to speak but you interrupt him.

“i know you probably think it’s naive and stupid.” he jokes and looks away, not wanting to delve into the topic of conversation.

“i never said that.” you gasp slightly in mortification, you grasp his jaw and force his gaze back to you.

“i know that we should be kind and that holding on to anger doesn’t lead anywhere good but you don’t deserve that. you deserve so much better and things sweeter than life.”

he already has something sweeter than life.

you.

you make every pleasure in life look dull the moment he sees you enter his sight.

he knows you’ll never be his, he can never have you because you’ll never have him. it’s okay, he’ll learn to be okay.

“yes ma’am.. i will listen to that.” he smiles,

you smile at him and it’s so sweet, he wants to hold you and twirl your hair. he wants to be with at all times, so he can see you and watch you play. he wants to know every minute detail about you. he’s just filled with this yearning to love you. he hoped that his affection might dwindle down as soon the platonic structure of friendship hit him on the face.

but the deeper your friendship delved into the more he fell for you. he always said to himself and to others that what he felt for you was just a fleeting moment, he knows he shouldn’t feel anything like this because he knows that you won’t reciprocate his feelings. he knows that he’ll just get hurt and he should stop it at once.

but how? how could he have known?

how could he prevent it when stars glimmered in your eyes as if they were jewels glimmering in the sky? how can he call it fleeting when he fell for you the moment he saw you in the theater?

he exhales and smiles at you.

and shoves his feelings back down.

and tried to forget how his heart beats for you.

you scoot closer to him than you already are, his breath hitches in apprehension with how near you are to him. he takes you in all your glory, he can smell the sweet scent that you carry that used to intimidate him but now brought comfort and safety to him.

you smell like home.

he’s afraid you might hear the heartbeat in his chest that is pumping so loud now that it’s source comes closer and closer to him, like a moth to a flame he’ll burn out if you come any closer to the warmth of your body.

he’s afraid that if you see his fidgeting and breathlessness you might catch up on him and realize he’s in love with you.

he can never let you know that.

not when he sees how far your relationship has developed, not when you’ve welcomed him into your world, not when you’ve shared some of your secrets with him.

not when you make feel complete when you’re within his reach.

he can’t afford to lose all of that in a single stroke of words. he can never confess to you because he doesn’t know how you’ll take it, but he can only assume the worst. he can only assume that you’ll refuse him.

a popular and encouraging saying that’s often associated in his situation “the worst thing she could say is no.” is incorrect. the worst thing you could say is to turn him away and break your friendship. you would leave his life and he would have to go back living it without you. how can he do that?

and the worst part? he’s not even sure you’d even bother to say all that. he’s half sure you would abandon him with no message or explanation but your silence would speak enough more than those four words could ever say.

you don’t want him.

he can’t go back to that, your tranquility used to bring him anxiety but as time progressed it brought him solace and he felt like he could be himself with you, his stuttering and apprehensiveness had disappeared and you greeted it with eagerness.

he’ll keep it down for you. he’ll shut his mouth if you ever fall in love with someone and he loses his chance with you, he’ll keep quiet because it means having you. the best thing he ever gave you was making you feel safe around him. he can never afford to let the opposite happen in the future.

because that means staying in your life and yours in his. it means keeping you close and that’ll keep him happy enough.

it has to.

he feels something on his lap, more like someone. a tingling sensation wrangling itself to his hands, he looks down and sees a glint of jewel shining back at him. he realizes it’s your adorned hand, he looks back up at you where you’ve laid your head on his shoulder.

you feel his gaze on you, you always do and look back at him in curiosity expecting him to say something. keith doesn’t know what to say, he’s afraid that he might spill his heart out to you with the recent train of thoughts his mind has occupied, so he smiles at you.

you smile in return and he wishes he could he could see that forever.

his hand is tangled with yours as he lays his head back on you.

a life with you is all he wants.

he wants to stay like this with you forever, just the both of you indulging in each other’s company and living life with no abandon.

keith watches you.

you squeeze his hand three times to make sure he’s alright.

he squeezes it back in return.

“happy new year’s keith.” you mutter to him and pull your head back under him as he looks at you. you bring yourself to him and softly press a kiss on his cheek, with your hand on his jaw.

keith does his best to hide his surprise as he feels happiness burst inside him. you put your head back to its previous stance along with your hands. keith does the same.

this is okay. this is perfect.

love isn’t always butterflies and grand gestures with happy endings but sometimes love can be wine drunk, holding each other’s hands and splayed on the floor next to confetti.

and pain.

there’s still love even if it’s gut wrenching pain.

author’s note: this took so long i’m so sorry. i had a keith brainrot before my exam and it had to go because i need to pass. (which paid off : D ) i couldn’t choose a happy or sad ending because..i want to. jk i can’t envision a smooth sailing path for keith and the reader because it really needs to take some time and CONFESS. they don’t know how to act on that because they’re careful around each other with the rough start they began with. or maybe because i just wanted to write about a pining keith and an oblivious reader that doesn’t know how to manage their feelings. i am a staunch believer of finding ur lover in a friend soo anyways thank you for reading and feel free to like and reblog!

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loooopside · 2 years

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#tumblr polls #polls #tumblr poll #new poll #pennywise #it #it chapter 2 #it chapter 1 #richie tozier #reddie #bill skarsgard #bill skårsgard #eddie and richie #eddie kaspbrak #pennywise the dancing clown #pennywise x reader fluff #pennywise fanfic

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peachy-princess777 · 7 days

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Hi!! Could you do some angst that ends in fluff with Bill Skarsgård, please?🫣👉🏻👈🏻 And thank you💖

I hope this is good enough, darling,I truly don't believe I'm good at writing angst but believe me,I tried 😭

You stood in the kitchen, your eyes glazed over as you stared at the clock. Its hands ticked away the seconds with a mechanical indifference that matched your mood. The walls of the apartment felt like they were closing in on you, the air thick with the scent of leftover dinner and unspoken accusations. You had noticed Bill's peculiar behavior for weeks now, his late nights at work and his sudden need for "space." Your stomach churned as you replayed your last conversation in your head, his evasive answers and the way he avoided your gaze. You knew something was wrong, but you didn't know what, perhaps he was actually working later and not just making an excuse to go see another-.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Bill's footsteps echoed down the hallway, and you could feel his presence before you saw him. He looked tired, his eyes weary, but when he caught sight of you, a forced smile spread across his face. "Hey, babe," he said, trying to sound cheerful. You didn't return the smile. Instead, you folded your arms across your chest, a silent challenge. "We need to talk," you said, your voice firm and unwavering.

Bill sighed heavily, dropping his keys on the counter. He ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "Okay," he agreed, following you into the living room. He sat down on the couch, his posture tense, as if bracing for impact. You took a seat opposite him, the coffee table acting as a barricade between you both. "What's been going on with you?" you asked, trying to keep the accusation out of your voice. "You've been so distant lately, and I can't help but think that there's something you're not telling me."

He took a deep breath and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Look, I'm sorry," he began, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "I've just had a lot on my plate with work, and I didn't want to burden you with it." The words hung in the air, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, your fears were unfounded. But the way he avoided your gaze made your heart sink. "What kind of work?" you pressed, your voice tight. "Something big," he said vaguely, "something that could change everything."

Your mind raced with possibilities, none of them good. "Are you seeing someone else?" you blurted out, the question cutting through the tension like a knife. Bill's eyes snapped to yours, and for a split second, you saw genuine shock in them. "What? No!" he said, a little too quickly. "Why would you even think that?"

But you had your reasons, and you listed them out, one by one. The late nights, the secretive phone calls, the way he'd been so distant and cold. You watched as his expression shifted from shock to guilt, and finally, to anger. "You think I'd do that to you?" he said, his voice rising. "After everything we've been through?"

The accusation hung in the air, heavy and palpable. You felt your cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and anger. "I don't know what to think," you admitted, your voice shaking. "But you're not giving me much to work with here."

Bill's eyes searched yours, a storm of emotions playing out in their depths. He took a deep breath, and for a moment, you thought he might confess. But instead, he leaned back into the couch, his arms folded across his chest. "I'm not cheating on you," he said, his voice low and steady. "But I have been keeping something from you."

The room grew quiet, the only sound the distant hum of the city outside the window. You felt your heart rate spike, the blood rushing in your ears. "What is it?" you asked, bracing yourself for the worst.

Bill took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I've been planning something," he said, his voice measured. "A surprise. I wanted it to be perfect."

Your heart skipped a beat. "What kind of surprise?" you asked, the accusation in your voice fading slightly.

Bill stood up, his movements quick and decisive. He walked over to the bookshelf and pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook. "A road trip," he said, handing it to you. "To the beach. It's all planned out."

You took the notebook with trembling hands, flipping through the pages filled with handwritten notes and maps. "But why the secrecy?" you asked, trying to keep the anger from seeping into your voice.

Bill sat down next to you, his hand gently covering yours. "Because I wanted it to be perfect," he repeated, his eyes earnest. "I know I've been distant, but it's only because I wanted this to be a surprise."

You looked down at the notebook, the words and maps blurring before your eyes. A road trip to the beach had been something you'd talked about for ages, a chance to get away from the city and reconnect. The thought of him planning this, just for you, brought a lump to your throat. "Why now?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bill took a deep breath, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. "Because I know we've had our rough patches," he said, his voice sincere. "But I want you to know that I love you more than anything, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt the tension in the room shift. Was this really happening?

You studied the notebook, the details meticulously planned out. Dates, destinations, even the playlists for the drive. It was all there, a tangible symbol of his love and effort. You looked up at him, searching for any sign of deceit, but all you saw was hope and nerves. "When do we leave?" you asked, your voice now slightly hopeful.

Bill's face lit up, the tension in his shoulders visibly easing. "As soon as you're ready," he said, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "I've got everything packed in the car. Just grab your bag, and we'll hit the road."

The surprise in his eyes was unmistakable as you set the notebook down and stood up, your arms wrapping around his neck. "Okay," you whispered, feeling a mix of relief and excitement. "Let's go."

Within minutes, you were both in the car, the city lights fading in the rearview mirror as you headed west towards the open road. Bill's hand found yours, his grip firm and reassuring. The tension between you melted away with each passing mile, replaced by a gentle anticipation of the adventure ahead.

The drive was long, but the time flew by as you shared laughs, stories, and old memories. The playlists he'd painstakingly curated served as the soundtrack to your journey, each song seemingly chosen to remind you of moments from your four years together. You felt a warmth spread through you, a gentle reminder of why you had fallen for him in the first place.

As the sun began to rise, painting the sky with a palette of pinks and oranges, Bill pulled the car off the highway and onto a narrow, winding road. The anticipation grew with every turn, the horizon hinting at something beautiful waiting for you. Finally, the road opened up to reveal a stretch of sandy beach, the waves of the ocean gently caressing the shore. It was more picturesque than any postcard.

You stepped out of the car, the cool morning breeze kissing your cheeks as you took in the breathtaking view. Bill walked around to your side and fell behind you, his eyes reflecting the excitement he felt. "This is it," he said, his voice filled with a mix of nerves and excitement. "The place where I want to start our forever."

You turned around to face him, your eyes wide with wonder and a hint of skepticism. But before you could respond, you saw him drop to one knee, a small velvet box in his hand. Your heart stopped, and for a moment, the world around you was nothing but a blur. The waves seemed to pause, the seagulls froze in mid-flight, and the world held its breath.

Bill looked up at you, his eyes filled with a love so intense it took your breath away. "Y/N," he began, his voice cracking with emotion. "You are the light of my life, the one who makes every moment brighter. I know I haven't been the best at showing it lately, but I promise you, I want to make it up to you. Will you marry me?"

You stared at the ring in the velvet box, the diamond glinting in the early morning light. Your mind raced, trying to piece together the last few weeks of his strange behavior. Could it all have been for this? You felt your eyes fill with tears as you took in the serene beauty of the beach, the gentle whispers of the waves, and the man before you, kneeling with hope in his eyes.

"Bill," you managed to say, your voice choking on emotion. "Is this...is this real?"

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "More real than anything I've ever felt," he assured you, his voice shaking slightly. "Please, tell me you'll be my wife."

You felt a warmth spread through your body, the kind that starts in your chest and fills every corner of your being. The doubt and fear from the weeks before melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and belonging. You took a deep breath, letting the salty sea air fill your lungs as you made the biggest decision of your life.

"Yes," you whispered, and the word seemed to float on the breeze, carried away by the waves. Bill's face broke into a grin, his eyes shimmering with happiness. He stood up, took the ring from the box, and slid it onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as if it had been made just for you. You stared at it, the diamond sparkling under the new sun, feeling the weight of the promise it held.

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms around your waist, your hands clutching his shoulders. You could feel his heart beating in time with yours, the warmth of his body seeping into you. "Thank you," he murmured into your hair. "Thank you for saying yes." You pulled back, your eyes searching his, making sure this was real. You found no deceit, only pure, unbridled joy.

As you both stood there, the sun rising over the horizon, casting a warm glow over the beach, Bill produced a small picnic basket from the car. He'd packed your favorite breakfast, along with a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver ice bucket. The sight of the strawberries and croissants brought a smile to your face. It was clear he had thought of everything.

The proposal had been so unexpected, yet it felt so right. The beach had always been your place of solace, a place where you had shared so many memories together. Now, it was the backdrop to the next chapter of your lives. You watched as Bill carefully laid out the blanket, his movements methodical and precise, as if he had practiced this moment a hundred times.

He handed you a flute of champagne, and you clinked them together, the sound echoing across the deserted beach. The bubbles danced in the glass, mimicking the sensation in your chest. You took a sip, the cold liquid bubbling against your tongue, the sweet taste of victory and love. You sat down on the soft blanket, the sand cold against your bare legs as you picked up a strawberry, feeling the gentle weight of the ring on your finger.

The salty sea air kissed your skin as you took a bite, the sweetness of the fruit mixing with the saltiness of the ocean. Bill sat beside you, his eyes never leaving your face as he filled his own glass. He took a sip, and you could see the tension in his shoulders ease away, like the tide retreating from the shore. "To us," he said, raising his glass. "To forever."

You clinked glasses with him, the sound ringing out over the waves. You both sat in silence for a while, watching the sun climb higher into the sky, the colors deepening from pastel to a fiery gold. It was a moment of pure happiness, untainted by the shadows of doubt that had been lingering.

"It ends now," Bill said finally, his voice a gentle rumble beside you. "Whatever doubts you had, whatever fears, they're gone." He took your hand, the ring feeling surprisingly natural against your skin. "I promise to always be honest with you, to always make you feel loved, and to never, ever take you for granted."

You nodded, the tightness in your chest slowly easing as you sipped the champagne. The warmth of the sun grew stronger, and you felt its embrace, mirroring the warmth of Bill's words. You leaned into him, letting his love wash over you like the waves on the shore. "I believe you," you murmured, your voice still thick with emotion.

The rest of the morning was a blur of laughter, sweet kisses, and the sharing of plans for the future. You talked about the future aka the wedding, the house, the kids, and the endless adventures you would have together. Each conversation was filled with excitement and hope, the kind that made you feel like you could conquer the world.

---

Hehe👹 I might stop writing angst because of how shit at it I am💀🥲🤗🥵🤮🥸👽🔫

#x y/n #x reader #fluff #bill skarsgard fluff #bill skarsgard imagines #bill skarsgard smut #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard angst #bill Skarsgard x reader #bill Skarsgard x y/n #bill Skarsgard Y/N #bill Skarsgard x you #Bill Skarsgard x y/n fluff #bill Skarsgard x yn #Bill Skarsgard x YN

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