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#the others EVENTUALLY caught on to what was going on
hairmetal666 · 1 day
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Steve wins the bat plush at a fair when he's seven. He doesn't care about bats, but it's the prize for making all five baskets in the basketball game, so he gets the little bat. Its eyes are a little crooked and one wing is slightly smaller than the other, but it being lopsided sort of makes it cuter.
He and his dad, they're supposed to be going on rides now, but his dad's pager keeps going off. He puts Steve next to a funnel cake stand, tells him not to move, and goes in search of a pay phone. Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve is bored under the flashing lights and tinkling music. He wants to play not sit and wait.
Eventually, he drifts back towards the midway, watches the people rushing by, searches for a sign of his dad's return. His attention is caught by another boy at the basketball booth. He has to be about Steve's age, with a mop of dark curls on top of his head and a jean jacket that's slightly too big, sleeves flopping over his hands as he lines up his shots.
This boy, he's terrible at basketball. Every shot is too high or too short or goes wide, but he's trying. Even from this distance, Steve can see how hard he's trying. He uses up his five balls, fishes into his jacket pocket for more money, and gets five more.
He misses every shot. This time, when he goes back for more money, he comes up empty. Steve thinks he sees his lip shaking.
A man, one in a leather jacket and boots that Steve thinks look mean, comes up to the boy, drops a heavy hand on his shoulder. He's too far away to hear the conversation, assumes the boy asks to play again and the man's response is a shaken head and a tight smile. They walk away from the games, right towards Steve, who slinks back to the side of the midway, not wanting to be caught staring.
"What was it you wanted? That stupid bat? Just another piece of trash you wanna bring in my house." Steve hears as they pass.
The boy nods, but keeps his eyes down and to the side.
He feels bad then. Felt bad before, but now he looks at his own bat, at its funny eyes and poorly attached wings, and wishes he could hand it over to the boy who really wants it. Steve almost does, then, makes to go after them, but his dad appears, dropping a hand to Steve's shoulder and saying, "ready to hit those rides?" And he knows the opportunity is gone, knows his dad will say it's too soft, not what men do.
Steve manages to lose himself for a while in the swirling lights and funhouse music and carnival rides, forget about the little bat in his back pocket and the boy who wanted one so desperately. But then his dad's pager goes off some more, he goes back to the pay phone, and Steve ducks into the low brick building that houses the bathrooms.
His eyes immediately land on the same boy from the basketball game. His eyes are red, face damp, obviously from tears, and Steve just--
"Here." He shoves the bat into the boy's chest.
For a second, the brownest eyes Steve's ever seen widen at him, before narrowing in a harsh glare, the boy's teeth barred.
"Why?" He snarls.
Steve thinks he may regret every choice that led him to this but he says, he says, "Because I want you to have it."
The boy blinks a few times, hand reaching out to gently pinch the bat's smallest wing. "You sure?"
Steve nods and the bat is slowly withdrawn from his grasp.
"No takesies-backsies?"
"It's yours."
The boy looks at the bat in awe, and Steve says, "see? It already looks happier with you."
The boy's beaming smile is cut-off by a voice calling from the door, "you in there,? I ain't got time to be waiting for your boohooing."
"Coming!" The boy carefully tucks the bat into an inner pocket of his jacket. "Thank you," he whispers, eyes big and glistening and happy, before he disappears out the door.
---
13 years later, give or take a few months, and Steve stands in the cracked shell of a bisected trailer, rummaging through what remains of a life well-lived, searching for anything whole. He's already found a few undamaged mugs and clean hats, but this room--it took a lot of damage. The brunt of it, really. Some sick sort of joke, after everything.
It's mostly rubble in here, scraps of fabric; slivers of notebook paper, magazine, poster; crumbled shards of vinyl and cassette plastic. A few times he comes across the disembodied limb of one of those dnd figures, and something weird happens to his throat.
In the far corner there's half of a dresser collapsed into itself, and he shuffles through the debris to see what he can find. There's something, soft and black, just the edge of it, peaking out from under half of a drawer face. He pulls it out, careful as can be and it's--it's a plush bat. It's a little dirty, but unharmed, though its eyes are a little wonky, and one wing is smaller than the other.
He holds it and he stares and he has to brace himself against the wall. It can't be--it's not the same one--but he remembers those big brown eyes and the curls and--
"Harrington," a warm, rich voice calls from what's left of the hallway. "You get lost in there?"
Eddie shuffles in, slow, careful with his crutches. And it--it took so long, months and months of convalesce and physical therapy, still physical therapy, but he's here. He's alive. He's perfect. And the something blooming between them, it's not spoken yet, but it's there, growing, and now, now--
"Oh my god, you found Lilith! I thought she was toast."
"Lilith?" He's still cradling the little lopsided bat in his hands, but moves closer to hand it over to Eddie.
"Yes, Lilith." Eddie takes the bat, presses it to his chest. "The first boy I ever loved gave her to me."
His heart turns over in his chest and when he swallows his throat clicks. Eddie doesn't notice, he's smiling softly at the bat, at Lilith, but then, "why are you looking at me like that?"
"First boy you ever loved?" He says. He thinks he sounds normal.
Somehow, Eddie's smile grows even softer. "Yeah. Roan County Fair, years ago. Tried to win her, but--" he clicks his tongue--"never had great hand-eye coordination. And then this kid just gave her to me out of nowhere. I used to think I was going to marry him."
"And now?"
Eddie laughs. "I grew up, Steve."
And for a second, he doesn't know what to say, but then, "I was right then, huh? That she'd be happier with you."
He stares at Steve, those same big brown eyes, wide and glistening. "Steve that was--Steve?" Eddie presses a hand over his mouth, overcome, before launching himself into Steve's arms. The crutches clatter to the floor, but Steve has him, will always have him, no matter what.
"I can't believe you kept her," Steve whispers.
"God, I carry her everywhere. She's Corroded Coffin's mascot, and you--Steve, I can't believe that was you."
"Surprise," he bumps Eddie's forehead with his.
They hold each other in the center of the destruction, but none of that matters right now, not when it feels like every moment since they very first met as children was leading them to this.
From the other half of the trailer, they hear footsteps, chattering, Wayne and Robin and Dustin, but Steve wants this to last a little longer.
"So, marriage...that still off the table?"
Eddie laughs softly, nuzzles his face against Steve's neck. "Are you kidding, sweetheart? No way I'm letting you go."
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navybrat817 · 3 days
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Hold You Tight: Part 2
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Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.
Chapter Summary: You're anxious before your date.
Chapter Word Count: Over 3.1k
Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, stalking, coercion, threats (not against reader), creepy and unhinged behavior, flashback, possessiveness, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies enjoy and thank you for the feedback so far! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You loved working at the flower shop. Putting together beautiful arrangements and bringing joy to others made you happy. But today, the morning after that stranger showed up in your home, you weren’t fully alert as you went about your tasks. The air around you felt different, thicker. Flipping through the order book, you attempted to look busy instead of walking around in a haze.
Whenever you began to focus, your mind would drift back to Bucky Barnes and your upcoming date. You hadn’t told Addison or anyone else about it because what could you tell them? How could you explain your situation?
You hadn’t even slept in your own bed thanks to that man.
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You weren’t sure how long you stayed seated on the couch once Bucky left your place. You’d have to move eventually, but you were replaying what happened in your head like a song on repeat and tried to make sense of it. A man broke into your home, but didn’t steal anything. Held you in his lap, but didn’t violate you.
No, that last part wasn’t true. That was exactly what he did. He violated your safety. And demanded a date with you.
You jerked when your phone dinged, but your heart only pounded faster when you saw a message from a new contact.
Bucky.
“I wish I could’ve stayed the night, but I’ll dream about you and count down the minutes until our date. Don’t forget about your gifts.”
He knew the date was on because how could you say no?
Your stomach dropped as you glanced down the hall. Wiping the remaining tears away, you got to your feet and cautiously made your way toward your bedroom. You weren’t expecting anyone to be there, but who knew what he did while you were at work? And what if he came back?
Would you scream for help or call the police?
“Just go in,” you whispered.
Pushing the door open with a shaky hand and flipping on the light, everything looked normal as you looked around and approached the bed. Everything except the garment and gift bag in the middle of it. They taunted you, daring you to look inside. At the very least, to read the small card on top of the bag.
You caught a small whiff of the cologne he wore as you picked it up and read the single statement.
“This is just the beginning, doll.”
The card slipped from your shaky hand. It would’ve been romantic under normal circumstances. You looked inside the gift bag next, but it did nothing to calm your nerves. Not only was it your favorite perfume as he stated, but it was the largest size available.
You unzipped the garment bag after and gasped at the sight of the dress. It was from a designer you admired, but could never afford. Simple yet beautiful in design, you had to stop yourself from running your hand over the fabric. Yes, it was a beautiful dress and it was just the right size.
But it came with strings attached.
“How?”
You half expected to see a blinking light when your eyes darted to the corners of your bedroom, but everything still looked ordinary. Nothing looked out of place. It didn’t stop your skin from crawling at the thought of him watching you. Because how did he know your size and the kind of perfume you liked? That you liked having a glass of wine when you took a bath? The password to your phone?
How did he know anything about you?
That was perhaps one of the most terrifying aspects about your ordeal: He was clearly powerful and connected, yet you didn’t know exactly what he was capable of or how far he’d go.
It took you a minute to type back a message to him. “Thank you for the gifts.”
A response came back almost immediately. Was he waiting by his phone for you? “Like I said, it’s just the beginning. I have another gift waiting for you, but you’ll have to wait until tomorrow for that one. It’s a surprise.”
You suddenly didn’t like surprises.
Could you accept gifts wrapped in pretty bows if it meant keeping those you cared about safe? Would you be a living doll to satisfy whatever craving he had that led him to you? At the very least, you’d have to play along for one night to try and get some answers.
“I’m sure it’ll be a nice surprise. Good night.” You sent, hoping he’d get the hint and leave you be.
“Sweet dreams.”
Grabbing a blanket, you made your way back to the living room and curled up in your oversized chair. There wouldn’t be any sweet dreams. Not tonight. Not with the way your mind raced.
Because who the hell was Bucky Barnes and why did he want you?
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The bell over the door rang, pulling you from your thoughts and reminding you that you had a job to do. You blinked as a tall man with golden hair and bright blue eyes walked in. A new customer from what you gathered, and an intimidating one at that. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you exhaled once he smiled in your direction.
“Hi,” you said, closing your book. “How can I help you?”
“I’m here to get some flowers for my girl,” he replied, the deep timbre gentle yet commanding. “No special occasion or anything. I just want to surprise her.”
A smile touched your lips. “That’s one of the best reasons to get someone flowers,” you said. You liked to imagine your future husband would get you flowers just because he felt like it. “Does she have a favorite?”
“Tulips,” he answered without hesitation. “Any color as long as they’re tulips.”
You stepped around the corner and led him to the premade arrangements. “We have this multicolored bouquet that she may like. Brightens the room and has an uplifting aroma.”
The gentleman reached out to touch one of the petals before he nodded. “She’ll love them,” he said more to himself than to you.
He sounded like a man in love.
“I’m sure she will,” you agreed, carefully carrying it to the counter so you could ring it up. Your skin prickled when you felt his eyes on you, but you told yourself to relax. This guy wasn’t like Bucky. You were paranoid after last night and he was likely watching just to make sure you didn’t drop the bouquet. “Will this be all for you?”
“Which one is your favorite?”
“My favorite?” You repeated as he waited for your response. The question surprised you, but you nodded to one of the recent arrangements you made. “It’s hard to choose a favorite, but I like stargazer lilies.”
You sometimes brought arrangements home for yourself since you couldn’t remember the last time anyone got you flowers.
“I’ll take those, too,” he said, going to get the vase himself. “I really appreciate your help.”
“It was nothing,” you smiled, ringing up the order. “And you made my job very easy, so thank you.”
“Your partner must feel very lucky to have you,” he said before you paused.
Biting your tongue, you stopped yourself from correcting him. You didn’t have a partner. A possible stalker? Yes.
His brows furrowed as he quietly paid. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
You shook your head and put your best customer service smile back on your face. “No apologies. I actually have a first date tonight. Maybe he’s the one,” you told him, the words tasting like ash in your mouth. “I hope your girl enjoys her flowers.”
He smiled back as he took the bouquets and receipt. “Me, too,” he said, something sparkling in his eye when he added, “Good luck on your date.”
The blonde left without another word, leaving you to grip the counter and wonder how the hell you were going to get through your evening.
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You stood in front of your bedroom mirror hours later, admiring yourself in the dress. It fit you well. Beautifully, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. You spritzed yourself with the perfume too. Might as well use it since Bucky was likely expecting it.
The scent should’ve brought a smile to your face instead of tears to your eyes.
“Hey! Still on for hanging out tomorrow?” Addison messaged you as you checked the time on your phone.
You blinked the tears away and realized you hadn’t messaged her once today. You were afraid to. If you mentioned Bucky, it would tempt you to spill what happened since you hardly kept anything from your best friend. And if you told her what happened…
Bucky would know.
With a shudder, you messaged her back. “Yep! See you then.”
The tension in your body skyrocketed when your doorbell rang at 7pm, right down to the second. “Be right there!” You called, shoving your phone in your clutch before you took one last look in the mirror. What did it matter if you looked good or not? It was a forced date.
You exhaled as you opened the door and froze when you saw Bucky standing on the other side. You foolishly thought he wouldn’t show, but luck wasn’t on your side. The sharp, dark suit he wore and air of confidence he carried had your heart pounding in your chest. The glove covering his left hand somehow worked with the suit.
“Fuck,” he breathed, his gaze sweeping over you. Why did he look at you like you were something to be desired? “You are so beautiful.”
Butterflies filled your stomach despite your fear. If only he had approached you and asked you out like a normal guy. “Thanks,” you whispered, locking the door once you were in the hall.
Did he have your spare key or did he find a way to get a copy?
“I wore this suit to match your dress,” he said, giving you an expectant look.
The guy was actually fishing for a compliment. “And you look very handsome,” you said, a smile lighting up his face.
“Thanks.” He held his arm out, satisfaction filling his eyes when you took it. “I’m glad you said ’yes’ to this date.”
“I’m sure you would’ve found a way to convince me if I didn’t,” you told him, reminding yourself that accepting this kept your loved ones safe and sound.
“I would have,” he agreed, keeping you close as he led you outside to where a luxury car was waiting. The car likely cost more than what you made in a year. “But you saved me the trouble by agreeing like the good, smart girl I know you are.”
You didn’t thank him for the “compliment”.
Bucky didn’t wait for the driver to open the door, grabbing the handle and helping you inside himself. You slid across the seat and tried to keep your dress from riding up as he got in beside you. He didn’t allow you any breathing room as the glass partition went up and the car took off. You were alone with him.
He could do whatever he wanted.
“You can sit in my lap if you’d like,” he said to break the silence. “It’s nice and comfortable.”
“No thanks,” you said, glancing ahead at the glass when he took your hand. You’d been in his lap the night before and that was more than enough. “Doesn’t seem safe.”
“You can sit here after dinner then,” he suggested, smirking when you glanced out of the corner of your eye.
Your stomach turned at that. He mentioned it took everything in him not to drag you to bed. You believed him. How long would he hold out before he tried to make a move?
“Sorry I didn’t text you today. I didn’t want to bother or overwhelm you while you were working,” he continued, kissing each of your knuckles as you stared straight ahead again. “At least not right away.”
“How considerate of you,” you muttered.
He chuckled and pressed another kiss to your hand before he held it in his lap. You stiffened and for a moment you thought he’d put your palm to his crotch. You weren’t sure what to expect from him.
“Look. I want tonight to be good for both of us. I’m sure you have a lot of questions and I’ll do my best to give you answers,” he said, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear as he addressed the elephant in the room. “I know a lot about you, but I imagine you don’t know much about me.”
“No, I don’t,” you admitted. As tempted as you were to look up his name, you refrained and couldn’t put your finger on why. “If I ask you questions, will you lie to me?”
“I have no reason to lie.” He brought a gloved hand to your cheek and forced you to meet his gaze. Even in the dark of the car, you could see the want in his eyes. “I want you to trust me.”
Trust the man with zero respect for boundaries? Could you do that? “Addison’s bachelorette party was a month ago. Was that really the first time you saw me?”
“It was. Everything changed when I saw you,” he replied, moving his hand from your face down to your neck. Like he just had to touch you. “Though it didn’t take a month to track you down, it did give me time to do my research and find out everything I could about you. Where you live, where you work, your interests, your routine. I like to be thorough.”
You turned your head away when it began to spin, trying to understand how he sounded so casual in his admittance to stalking you. You also couldn’t keep looking into those blue eyes. They would drown you.
What you wanted to ask was if he was watching you in your home. But trapped in that small space with him, what if his answer freaked you out more? He said he wouldn’t hurt you, but would he keep that promise?
The question that came out instead was, “And you just decided during that time that you wanted me?”
Your eyes shut as his lips touched your ear. “I wanted you the moment I saw you,” he whispered, making you shiver at the feel of his breath. “And the more I learned about you, the more you pulled me in. I’m just a moth drawn to your flame. And you’re exactly who I want by my side.”
His words washed over you, wearing you down like a stone sinking in the water. It was too much. Too intense. “Where are we going?”
“Mmm. Our date.” You exhaled when his fingers brushed along your arm. “I thought about renting out a restaurant or taking you away to an island for our first date. Something intimate and private. Then I thought, what’s more intimate and private than my penthouse?”
“Your penthouse?” You asked, opening your eyes.
“Yeah, my home,” he smiled, either not noticing or caring when your eyes rounded. “It’s the best spot in town, of course. Can’t beat the view. And we don’t need any eavesdroppers now, do we?”
Your heart sank as you reached for your phone. People would at least be able to see you in a public place, but his home? That was like going into the heart of a lion’s den. It would be so easy to message Addison or Dana and ask for some sort of help without giving too many details. You could-
Bucky took the phone from your hand and tucked it in his jacket pocket. “You won��t need that tonight,” he stated, something in his calm tone telling you not to argue. “I have a chef preparing dinner and a dessert and I selected a nice bottle of wine for us to share. I also want to give you a tour after the meal since it’s going to be your home sooner or later.”
You choked on your next breath. “It’s what?”
“We’re here,” he smiled, terror gripping you when the car stopped in an underground parking garage. “You can ask me more questions inside.”
“Bucky, did you say this is going to be my home?” You pressed as he helped you out, having to rush to keep up with him as he pulled you to an elevator.
You hoped that wasn’t the gift he wanted to surprise you with tonight.
“Not right away, but yes. My place is a bit safer than yours and it’s close to my club and your shop. A win-win,” he said, scanning a key card before the doors opened. “Don’t look so surprised. Most couples live together.”
You refrained from telling him that you weren’t a couple. “I think that’s moving a bit too fast,” you said, your voice cracking as he pulled you inside, keeping you right beside him even though there was plenty of space to be apart. “This is only our first date,” you added, not wanting to upset him.
“That’s why I said it wouldn’t be right away,” he teased, pressing the button for the top floor as his other hand rubbed your hip. “But soon.”
You kept your breathing under control as the elevator climbed higher. The man had your future mapped out and you had only known him for a day. Was this some sick, elaborate game that he was playing to scare the hell out of you? Or had he convinced himself that this was romantic?
“I hope you like it,” he said softly as you stepped out together and walked toward a man who stood by the door. He was just as large as Bucky, but didn’t dare make eye contact with you as he opened the door and let you in.
The spacious entrance opened up to a large living space with high ceilings and marble floors. It was admittedly gorgeous and you hadn’t seen the rest of the place yet. But that wasn’t what caught your attention. It was the flowers in the middle of the table a few feet in front of you.
The coy smile on Bucky’s face made your blood freeze when you faced him. “Those are your favorite, aren’t they?” He asked.
They weren’t just your favorite flowers.
It was the same arrangement of stargazer lilies you sold to the blonde gentleman earlier today.
“I told you, doll. I know everything about you,” he began as the clutch fell from your hand and the door shut with a heavy thud. “And I have eyes and ears everywhere.”
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Zero chill, lovelies. What's the surprise he has for you? How will this date go? And did you like the appearance from the man in the shop? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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b14augrana · 2 days
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‘The Death Of You’
The pursuit to being the greatest of all time comes above everything, including your health.
Barça Femení x reader
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masterlist
Warnings: slight overshadowing of injury
A/N: edited this author’s note way too many times buttttttt im not making a pt 2 of this because its just a silly little blurb that’s been rotting in my drafts and thats i wanna say okay thanks enjooooyyyyy
“When you think of passion, you think of someone that does anything for their club, and that’s (Y/N). The blaugrana is everything to her, and it is a part of her. She puts the badge before herself, and all she emits, all they admire of her, everything she represents, is Barça.
(Y/N) is Barça, Barça is (Y/N)” — Mapi León.
For Barça, you would give your life. You have put your body on the line and taken the hits until your skin turns the colours of the jersey you truly believe you’ll die in.
It’s what your mother says will eventually kill you. Going down with the jersey, for the jersey, your love for the greatest club in the world coming before all. It’s proof, almost, that Barcelona is so great, it’s worth dying for.
But, the funny thing is, you hadn’t loved living in Barcelona growing up. In fact, you hated everything about it. It felt like an asylum or some sort of confinement where the only things left to stare at are the four walls you’re enclosed by, except, those four walls were littered with posters of men you constantly watched play at the stadium of your dreams, and the only thing that made staring at those four walls so much of a punishment is the fact you were a girl and there was no such thing as a woman footballer.
You had shitty friends to remind you of that every single time they caught you stopping in the street (though you don’t even stop, your foot just drags along the ground a bit slower than usual) just to take a closer look at a mural of some Barça legend.
You hated living in Barcelona because you had nobody on your side that believed there was a place for you or any other woman behind the huge, towering walls of Camp Nou.
Barcelona went from being an asylum to a garden that was nurtured with every match played and goal scored, a title or medal sprouting from the buds of every stem and bush.
You would die for Barcelona. Hell was worth living through, for Barcelona, just to feel whatever emotion devoured you when you step out to a full stadium in the famous blue and garnet.
You want to be the best. That comes above everything — there is no point in devoting your life to something if you’re not going to be the best at it, and you had given more than what was required for Barça.
What you also want is to create a legacy not only for yourself, but the club as well, one title at a time. A legacy associated with winning, and being the greatest of all time. The last thing you need to implement this reputation? The Champions League.
You take in the stadium, the raindrop-covered grass, the noise. That headache inducing noise, caused by the record attendance in the stadium. The headache inducing noise that, when you focus on it, begins to become coherent and recognisable as the Barcelona anthem. With every step closer to the pitch, you find it harder to pay attention to anything around you, and the anxiety in your stomach is more apparent than ever before.
You kill the period of time between exiting the tunnel and finding your place on the field by warming up (or in other words, doing whatever you can to shake the nerves). You step out onto the pitch and feel the pinch of the cold wind which, for some reason, elicits an epiphany; the only thing separating you and that trophy is these 90 minutes.
Those 90 minutes drag on. Pass after pass, unsuccessful dribble after unsuccessful dribble, you’re not getting any closer to the goal but you can’t feel disheartened or unmotivated because all you have is 90 minutes. Everything can change in 90 minutes.
Everything does change. You don’t know how it happened, or who passed you the ball, or whether you even called for it, but you had it and you were moving quickly with it. Managing to glide past Renard, leaving her behind you to grapple at your jersey hopelessly, you find yourself up against Endler on your own.
Although there are 20 other players on the pitch, discarded behind you, it feels like it’s just you and Endler in an empty stadium. The goal looks bigger than it should be as your foot swings down onto the ball, and the raucous noise of the stadium can only intensify when the ball just misses the tip of Endler’s glove and meets the back of the net.
It is hard to ignore the unfamiliar discomfort in your knee, but you do it anyways. You run off to celebrate and don’t pay it another thought. You don’t mention it to anyone amidst the celebrations because how could you possibly ruin this moment, and it’s basically gone by the time you return to the midfield.
For a moment, there's hope. Your goal sparks new light into the eyes of your teammates. One golden boot shines brighter than a golden glove and there's a connection between your foot and the ball that just makes sense, and it's put away in the back of the net.
But when the ball starts rolling again and it meets the feet of Van de Donk, you realise 1 goal isn't enough.
No, it's like hanging off the edge of a cliff, fingers clawing for whatever jagged edge of a rock they can reach, clinging onto the little thing you have keeping you up. But with every minute, every intercepted pass, missed or deflected shots, the cliffside is crumbling.
Lyon is an exceptional team. That's why they manage to put one past Sandra, and you're back to square one. Your mind, drunk on pride, pushes you to do more, to give more. Your body feels like it can't possibly give anything more, yet you still run up and down the pitch without slowing down once and you throw yourself at the ball every time you find the opportunity.
It’s what your mother says will eventually kill you.
So it does, internally. When the final whistle pierces your ears and the minority of Lyon fans in the crowd burst into cheers, it kills you, because you would die for this club and it hurts to come so close but fall short.
The winning legacy you were so close to completing, was now tainted by your failure to actually win.
Your knee also hurts. A lot.
You lie down on the pitch, its soggy and uneven surface being the only comfort you have in this place where everywhere you look, there are reminders that you’re not good enough. The more you think about all the sacrifices and things you put on the line for this title, you wonder, ‘When’s it gonna be my turn?’
Disappointed fans filing out of the exits, your teammates surrounding you trying to hold in their tears, the dancing and celebrating from Lyon.
The sound of sniffles can be heard from beside you, and you roll over to see Mapi, her eyes bloodshot and her cheeks dusted with patches of red.
As you line up to receive your medal, you don’t even want to wear it. Silver will never be better than gold, there’s nothing good about being second to best, being outperformed is nothing to be proud of. But you still keep the medal on.
You hang your head and look away from the winner’s stage, because your heart is too sore to take in the fact that would’ve, could’ve, should’ve been you.
‘When’s it gonna be my turn?’
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peppertoastuniverse · 19 hours
Text
pep reads: geto suguru – long fics
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But dang, i didnt realise we were all so thirsty for geto the brainrot is so real
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚
☆ as we walk by cerialilith [AO3] [status: unknown ◦ 29/? chapters] [singledad!geto] [slow burn] [eventual smut!] [nocurses!AU] #sweet, softest sugu
He only loves two things in life: the scent of coffee and his daughter. But perhaps he can make a few adjustments.
— In which the single mother across the hall manages to catch Geto’s eye without him realizing it.
☆Temptations by @peachsayshi [AO3/tumblr] [status: ongoing ◦ 5/6 chapters] [ smut!] [nocurses!AU] #sugu treats you RIGHT #pep MELTED Suguru Geto is a playboy. A man who's had more lovers than he can even count. You've never been in a relationship, not even experiencing a real kiss when you first meet Suguru. But the two of you fall for each other, and you know that he's the one you want to experience all your firsts with.
☆ Breathe Me In by lovelied [AO3] [status: completed ◦ 5/5 chapters] [smut!] #pep love this characterization of Suguru Desperate for distraction, a troubled Suguru Geto began inviting you over each night. It began as a casual arrangement, but over time, you found yourself yearning for him in ways you couldn’t quite explain.
☆The good morrow by @temozarela [AO3/tumblr] [status: ongoing? ◦ 2/? Collection of fics] [smut!] #pep’s comfort fic
You narrowed your eyebrows as you felt your body being jolted, large hands gripping your face, and then your shoulders. Groaning softly, you turned in your sleep, trying to make sense of the voice fading in and out of your brain. It didn’t sound like it was from your dream… It was hushed… low… soft…
It sounded like your name.
aka.
geto finds you after his defection to say goodbye
☆ Mascara by softsellars [AO3] [status: unknown ◦ 5/7 chapters] [smut!] [tw!cheating] [nocurses!AU] [artist!suguru] #complex reader, patient sugu
You've never been a particularly good person, you're self-aware enough to know it. It's your only flaw, and recently you've actually been working to better yourself.
For example: paying for a 30-dollar Uber so you can take your friend home only for her to ditch you for some guy when it comes down to it. Although you’re pissed, you decide to try and make the best of it instead of get into a screaming match with her.
It's an easy thing to do when Getou Suguru is offering you everything to do just that. Everything a party entails: liquor, weed, and sex with a perfect stranger.
And Getou knows perfectly well you have a boyfriend, so it's not like he'll want anything serious.
***Porn with a little plot
☆ Whisper of the Petals by @nanamis-baker [tumblr!] [status: on going ◦ 2/? chapters] [slow burn] [College!AU] #SO SO SWEET #sugu with dumb feelings
A mystery blooms on your doorstep. A breathtaking bouquet of white flowers, a silent whisper of apology... but it's not for you. Delivered under the name of a man so handsome he takes your breath away, the mix-up sets your heart racing.
Fate seems determined to keep throwing you together, and soon you're caught in a whirlwind of chance encounters and undeniable chemistry. It was almost as if it was trying to bring you together. ☆ AFFECTION'S EDGE by @rush-the-stars [AO3/tumblr] [status: completed ◦ 3/3 chapters] [omega!verse] #THE INTENSITY?!
“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”
*** Suguru tries to tame you.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚
bonus!
☆ Musubi by Penrose_Quinn [AO3] [status: unknown ◦ 2/? chapters] #LOVE THE CHEMISTRY
Then there was a quiet shrewdness in the way he carried himself. You would call it cocky, but this one proved to be more poised and collected on how things would unfold for him. Framed with the anchor of his composure, legs stretched out in front of him but not overly laid-back, and his mind – whatever unfathomable brilliance that dwelt underneath – was unperturbed, self-assured. You wouldn’t claim to have known him entirely though like this, Suguru looked more like himself. “But you won’t disappear,” he concluded. “Not yet anyway.” You gave in to a hum. “You’re really making it tempting for me to leave you hanging on nothing.” Suguru listened, waiting. His pursuit was a game of patience and you chased after the gamble.
Or: the string of each encounter was an entanglement to what brought you closer to him, twisted in each other’s darkness, torn and tied back together throughout the years.
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justlemmeadoreyou · 3 days
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the date (part 2 to meet-cute)
read meet-cute here
Summary: after the smooth exchange of numbers with harry, he offers to take you on a date.
Words: 3.8k
Warnings: flirting, teasing, kissing, fluff
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*
"I still can't believe you left your number for me," Harry chuckled into the phone, grinning uncontrollably. "That was smooth as silk, darling."
You giggled bashfully on the other end of the line. "Well, I had to take my chance when I saw it! Couldn't very well let you slip through my fingers now, could I Mr. Styles?"
"Just Harry, please love. And I'm certainly glad you didn't - I've been kicking myself for not asking properly."
"Mmm, well luckily for you I'm a modern woman who knows how to shoot her shot."
Harry threw back his head with a deep, rumbling laugh that had butterflies erupting in your stomach despite the phone between you.
"That's my girl! Speaking of shots though...how would you feel about letting me take you out to dinner this weekend? Make it an official date and all?"
You beamed so hard that your cheeks started to ache. "Harry Styles asking me on a date? However will I contain my excitement?" 
"Is that a yes then?" You could practically hear the smirk in his raspy tone.
"Yes, oh impatient one! It's a definite yes. I'd love to go out with you."
"Brilliant! Say, Friday around 7? I'll make us a reservation somewhere nice but lowkey so we can just... talk and get to know each other better." His voice dropped an octave on those last few words, the graveled timbre making you shiver.
"Sounds perfect," you murmured, fiddling with the ends of your hair. "I'll be counting down the minutes!"
"Me too, love. Me too."
When Friday night finally rolled around, you were a desperate tangle of nerves and excitement. You'd spent far too long fretting over what to wear, determined to look your best for Harry but not like you were trying too hard. Eventually you settled on a flowy printed sundress with strappy sandals and loose curls framing your face.
"You've got this, Y/N!" you pep talked your reflexion in the mirror, smoothing down non-existent wrinkles in the soft fabric. "It's just Harry. The super famous, ridiculously talented, impossibly gorgeous Harry Styles who you've had a crush on for years and years and - oh god, what was I thinking?!"
You were seconds away from ripping the dress back off when a car honk sounded from outside. Stomach swooping with panic and anticipation, you did one last makeup check before slinging your purse over your shoulder and hurrying out.
The sleek black Mercedes idling at the curb made your heart kick into high gear. When the driver's side door popped open and Harry unfolded himself out, your mouth very nearly fell open.
Dressed in a slightly rumpled blue button-down and charcoal slacks, the man looked like he'd stepped straight out of a magazine spread. As his shoulder duster jacket fell open, you caught the peek of Gucci loafer adorning each foot. His hair looked artfully mussed with just a touch of his natural curl visible. It took everything in you not to openly gape like an idiot.
"Hi there!" Harry greeted you cheerfully as you approached, those sinful dimples peeking out on either side of his radiant smile. "You look absolutely gorgeous - take my breath away a bit there!"
Your cheeks instantly flushed to match the rosy print of your dress. "Thank you, you don't look half bad yourself," you managed to reply, willing your knees not to dissolve beneath you.
"Ahh, just 'not half bad', is it? Well I'll have to try harder than that to impress you, won't I darling?" he teased, voice dropping to that low register that never failed to make your toes curl. 
With a wink, Harry opened the passenger door for you in a gentlemanly flourish. You couldn't resist shooting back a playful, "I guess you will at that, popstar."
You were rewarded with another one of his deep, husky laughs that vibrated straight through you in the most delicious way. Harry just shook his head in amusement as you settled into the plush leather interior.
"You're trouble already, sweetheart. I dunno if I'm prepared for this..."
When Harry slid in beside you with those mile-long legs you suddenly found it very hard to breathe. There was just something inescapably sexy about seeing a man like him in such a confined space. Like his raw masculine presence took up every available inch of oxygen.
"H-Hopefully not too much trouble," you quipped lightly, trying to recover some of your banter despite your wildly hammering pulse. "I do know how to behave and use my indoor voice."
Harry fixed you with a heart-stutteringly heated look through those unfairly lush lashes of his. "Oh, I certainly hope not, pretty girl."
The two of you held one another's gazes for a beat too long, the air sparking and thickening around you. Until finally Harry cleared his throat and faced forward, fingers visibly flexing on the steering wheel.
"So! Dinner at Luigi's sound alright?"
Mutely nodding, you tried to concentrate on taking some calming breaths as Harry guided the vehicle into traffic. You hoped he couldn't sense the myriad of butterflies currently swarming frantically in your belly. Already your highly anticipated date was shaping up to be just as dizzying and delicious as you'd always dreamed.
By the time Harry pulled up to valet, you'd managed to regain at least some of your composure. Not enough to avoid staring a bit too intensely when he rounded the car and gallantly offered you his arm to escort you inside. But honestly, you were beginning to question how anyone kept their chill around Harry Styles in person.
The interior of the restaurant was dimly lit with an intimate, cozy ambiance. Soft Italian music played from hidden speakers and the scents of garlic, wine and baking bread hung thick in the air. 
As the maître d' guided you towards your private table in the back corner, Harry's hand rested securely at the small of your back. You fought not to shiver at the barely-there brush of his fingertips against your bare skin.
"This okay, love?" he murmured in your ear once you'd been seated at the small, candle-lit table. "Not too public or anything?"
You nodded quickly, struggling to find your voice for a moment. "It's perfect, thank you."
When the waiter came round with your drink orders, shockingly flagrant heart eyes and a request for Harry's autograph, you couldn't help the small giggle that escaped. Harry merely flashed the young man a tight smile and politely declined while squeezing your hand where it rested on the white tablecloth. 
"Sorry 'bout him, darling," he murmured with a slight grimace as the waiter retreated with reddened cheeks. "Not exactly the most romantic welcome, eh?"
"Oh hush, you," you swatted his arm playfully. "Although I will admit it wasn't the most subtle 'hot for Harry' look I've ever witnessed."
Harry choked out a surprised laugh, green eyes dancing merrily in the soft candlelight. "A bit familiar with those kinds of looks then, are you sweetheart? Should I be worried?"
"Well let's see...how jealous do you get when Perfect Polly Instagram won't stop flooding my feed with thirsty tongue emojis every time you so much as breathe?" You quirked one cheeky brow at him over the rim of your water glass.
Harry's grin only broadened, clearly delighted by your unexpected brashnrss. "Well now, darling, sounds like I may need to have a few stern words with Polly myself. Letting the world know in no uncertain terms just whose girl you are."
A fresh blush crept across your cheekbones at his words and the undercurrent of possession laced through them. No matter how much you wanted to play it coy and unaffected, you couldn't deny the arousing trill of satisfaction at Harry considering you his.
Before you could formulate any sort of snarky reply, the waiter arrived to take your orders. Harry gallantly allowed you to go first, regarding you intently in the meanwhile. As soon as the poor man left again, he fixed you with such an endearingly besotted look the breath caught in your throat.
"Have I mentioned lately how stunning you are, Y/N? Because you truly take my breath away."
You rolled your eyes instinctively, though a soft giggle escaped along with it. "Pretty smooth there, rockstar. Though I suspect you've used that line on a few girls in your day
Harry let out an amused chuckle, not even attempting to deny your playful accusation. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, all loose-limbed grace as he regarded you with a tender warmth.
"Can't say it's my best material, I'll admit. But then, something tells me you'd be able to see straight through any less-than-genuine flattery, darling."
You arched one eyebrow teasingly. "Oh? And what gave you that impression, Mr. Styles?"
"Call it a hunch," he murmured, gaze dropping briefly to your lips before flickering back up to hold your stare steadily. "You seem like the type who'd appreciate a man being honest and upfront."
A delighted shiver coursed through you at his words - both the graveled timbre and the implication behind them. Before you could formulate a suitably flirtatious response, the waiter returned bearing your steaming entrees.
"Ah, perfect timing!" Harry exhaled with a crooked grin, deftly switching gears. "I don't know about you, gorgeous, but I'm famished."
As the mouthwatering aroma of seafood linguine wafted up from your plate, you realized just how ravenous you were as well. You'd been so wrapped up in Harry's charming presence that you'd nearly forgotten about sustenance altogether. Shaking your head slightly, you picked up your fork with an answering grin.
"Well then, we'd better tuck in before it gets cold! I want you to have the full authentic experience."
Over the next little while, you and Harry fell into an easy flow of idle conversation and shameless flirtatious banter. He peppered you with random questions about your interests and background, seeming to hang on your every response with rapt fascination.
"How does a gorgeous, talented thing like you end up gracing this city anyway?" he asked at one point, toying idly with the stem of his wineglass. "Surely some bloke back in Cheshire should've snatched you up ages ago."
You couldn't bite back your snort of laughter. "What, you don't think I'm capable of being a self-assured, independent woman?" 
Waving a dismissive hand, you continued before he could protest. "I came down to Venice for uni, fell in love with the energy and creative pulse of the city. Never looked back really!"
Harry's dimples peeked out as his lips curved into an admiring grin. "That's my girl - chasing her dreams on her own terms instead of waiting around for someone else's validation." He topped off your wineglass with a wink. "Though I suspect you have a fair few blokes - and birds, let's be real - kicking themselves for not locking it down sooner, eh?"
You made a show of batting your lashes coyly even as warmth bloomed across your cheeks. "Well I certainly can't complain about the options in London..."
"Hey now!" Harry cut in with a laugh, pointing his fork accusingly. "Don't go getting too big for your britches just yet, missy. I'll have you know I'm quite the hot commodity meself these days."
"Oh I'm sure," you tittered, delighting in the back-and-forth. "Though sadly the panda fever seems to have passed me by. Do go on though, I'm all ears for these sordid tales of Harry Styles: Omega Idol."
Harry made a playfully outraged sound, clutching at his chest. "Omega?! Why I never...if anything, I reckon I'm more of a prime alpha specimen."
"Is that so?" You leaned forward slightly, resting your chin on one palm as you gave him an overtly assessing look up and down. "I don't know, popstar...I'm just not sure you've got the stride for it."
With a wicked glint in his eye, Harry pushed back from the table and stood in one lithe movement. He began slowly unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt as you watched with rising heat, finally shrugging the jacket off his shoulders entirely and letting it pool on his vacant chair.
"How's this, darling?" he purred, voice like liquid velvet as he stalked around the table towards you with leonine grace. "Giving you more...alpha...vibes now?"
Your mouth went abruptly dry, eyes riveted to the expanse of golden skin and corded muscle on display now above his slacks. Harry came to a stop directly beside your chair, towering over you with one large hand braced on the table and the other settling on the back of your seat.  
When you managed to tear your gaze up and meet his heated stare, your insides clenched with a molten thrill. Those emerald depths glittered with sin and challenge and something so magnetic it stole the air from your lungs.
"Well?" Harry's smooth baritone rumbled through you, lips curved in the most sinfully sensual of smirks. "Any other concerns about my...prowess, love?"
As if in a daze, you slowly shook your head. Your fingers itched with the fierce urge to reach out and map the hard planes of his chest and abdomen for yourself. To revel in the warmth and solidity of the man caging you in his orbit.
Just as you felt yourself leaning inexorably closer, chasing that gravitational pull, a discreet throat clearing had you jumping nearly out of your skin. You whipped your head around to find your waiter standing by with wide eyes and twin spots of color in his cheeks.
"Ahh, s-Signore Styles!" he stammered slightly, adjusting his tie with unsteady fingers. "Is there, ehm, anything else I can get for you and...and the signora?"
Harry didn't so much as spare the younger man a glance, languid eyes still burning into your flushed face with heated promise. His hand came up to toy with one of the curled tendrils framing your neck, featherlight touch raising goosebumps along your skin.
"No, mate," he rumbled, voice gone low and thick as smoke. "We're quite alright for now. Thanks though."
As the flustered water beat a hasty retreat, still blushing furiously, you let out a breathless giggle. "Poor bloke looked seconds away from a heart attack!"
Harry's teeth flashed in a wolfish grin as his fingers continued tracing idle patterns against your sensitive skin. "Can't say I blame him, love. I'd be scandalized too if I had to look at something as sinfully gorgeous as you for too long."
Oh good lord, how did he always manage to rob you of oxygen with the smallest comments? Knowing you had to regain at least a modicum of composure before this evening descended into a lust-crazed fiasco, you squeezed Harry's bicep gently.
"Right, well I'll kindly ignore your skewed vision for now, mister. But maybe take a step back before you give the other diners something to gawk at besides rugged good looks?"
Chuckling again, Harry obediently slid away, reclaiming his seat in one smooth motion. But not before dipping to brush the faintest whisper of lips across your blushing cheek.  
When he straightened, that cheeky glimmer was back twinkling in his eyes like he knew damn well the effect he had on you. Still, you welcomed the brief chance to take a few calming breaths without his intoxicating presence overwhelming you entirely.
Over the next while, you and Harry continued your flirtatious back-and-forth in between sampling bites of dessert. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, keeping him on his toes while simultaneously swooning over every sinfully appealing aspect of him. 
Mercifully, the arrival of your shared tiramisu dessert provided a temporary reprieve from the thick, smoldering tension crackling between you. Though you had to swallow down a fresh wave of want at the sight of Harry wrapping those obscenely lush lips around his first bite.
With a soft moan of appreciation, he closed his eyes briefly as the flavors melted across his tongue. "Oh darling, you have to try this...it's heavenly."
Hazily, you gave a jerky nod and accepted the offered forkful. The rich, creamy taste burst over your senses in a blend of cocoa, espresso, and perhaps just a hint of Harry's unique musk.
A slow smile curved your lips as you let out a moan of your own accord. "God yes, Harry...it's amazing."
Dinner finally devoured, you settled back with a contented sigh and studied him through your lashes. He was nursing the last sip of his wine, cheeks faintly flushed and hair deliciously rumpled. You'd never seen a more beautiful sight in your life.
"What?" he rumbled out, almost seeming to read your thoughts.
You shook your head minutely but allowed your smile to deepen. "Nothing, I'm just...really enjoying this. All of this. Thank you for tonight, Harry."
His features melted into an expression of such tender warmth your heart physically ached. Wordlessly, Harry reached across the table to thread his fingers with yours. The pad of his thumb traced slow, maddening circles over the pulse point of your wrist. 
"No, my sweet girl. Thank you." 
His voice was scarcely above an intimate murmur, vowels rasping with palpable sincerity that left you breathless. Those searing emerald eyes burned into your very soul as if entreating you to understand everything unspoken behind his simple words.   
"Shall we take a little stroll before calling it an evening?" Harry suggested softly, though his gaze never lost its ardent intensity. "Work off a bit of dinner before dessert, so to speak?"
Those last few words vibrated between you like the richest melted chocolate - sultry promises in every syllable. You gave a small, dazed nod, utterly helpless to resist this man's charms.
"I'd love that."
Outside, the evening summer breeze was balmy and scented with the rich greenery of Hyde Park across the street. Harry looped your arm through his as you began ambling the quiet paths winding through the gardens. 
For a few blissful moments, you simply soaked in the peaceful ambiance of being so intimately entwined with one another. Harry's familiar crisp cologne surrounded you, his strong bicep flexing beneath your fingers. Occasionally, he'd dip close to murmur some silly pun or observation that would have you giggling softly against his shoulder.
Coming around a bend, the two of you emerged beside a small, glassy pond with a quaint wooden bridge arching over. Tiny white lights had been strung across the handrails, casting a warm romantic glow across the entire scene.  
"Oh Harry...it's gorgeous!" You breathed out in wonder, tugging him forward eagerly. "We have to get a better look!"
Harry chuckled indulgently behind you but hurried to keep pace as you practically dragged him along. The sound of your breathless laughter and happy footfalls filled the intimate little enclosure, echoing back from the dark trees surrounding you.   
When you reached the apex of the bridge, you turned to face Harry with eyes shining brilliantly and smile beaming. A few loose tendrils of hair had escaped their soft updo to feather around your flushed cheeks. You looked utterly radiant in the ethereal lighting.
"Thank you for tonight," you sighed out, slipping your fingers through the soft hair at his nape. "It's been...everything I could have dreamed honestly."
Harry gazed at you with undisguised reverence, hands settling at the dip of your waist as he slowly pulled you flush against him.
"The pleasure has been all mine, I can assure you. Every second with you has been magical...you're magical, Y/N."
Then his mouth was slanting hotly over yours in a searing, drugging kiss. You melted into his strong embrace with a soft moan, fingers tightening against his silken locks. Harry's tongue swiped across the seam of your lips in a blatant request for deeper exploration that you instantly granted.  
One broad palm pressed insistently into the curve of your lower back, arching your body even further into his solid heat. The rasp of his stubble abraded your skin deliciously as his mouth moved with skilled insistence against yours. You could taste the lingering notes of the rich Cabernet from dinner alongside his own uniquely masculine essence.
Only when your lungs were screaming for air did Harry finally tear away, foreheads pressed together as you both panted harshly. His eyes were dark as sin, heavy-lidded and smoldering in the low light.
"God, I've been wanting to do that from the first moment I saw you with paint on your nose," he confessed in a low rasp. "Nearly drove me mad, you were so bloody gorgeous."
Shivering at the rough timbre trickling down your spine, you nipped at his jawline playfully. "Is that so, Mr. Styles? I'll have to make sure to wear more paint around you in the future then."
Harry growled out a dark chuckle, flexing his fingers against your waist in a possessive squeeze. "You ought to be careful, sweetheart. This alpha has been on his best behavior...but only for so long."
Your mouth went dry at the heated promise in his words, desire throbbing through you like a physical force. Before you could even think to respond, Harry ducked in to capture you in another mind-melting embrace, this one deeper and more demanding than the last.  
For long, hysterical moments, all conscious thought faded into a swirl of roaming hands and twining tongues. You could hardly tell where he began and you ended, your very essence tangling and melding most divinely.  
"Y/N," Harry gritted out in a low, strained tone, pulling fractionally back. The stark hunger ravaging his expression would have stolen your breath away if his searing kisses hadn't already accomplished that.  
"Yes?" You exhaled his name back like a respectful sigh.
Those mossy green irises you loved so dearly blazed into yours with naked yearning.  
"Let me take you home."
***
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jasmineoolongtea · 1 day
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hii!! i recently just started following you and i don’t wanna overload you with anything so i stress that i urge you to take your time and if you feel like you need to tweak anything then you can since i noticed you barely opened requests :)) i was just wondering if you could write something ( whether it be headcanons or a fic ) about gojo having a jujutsu sorcerer for a girlfriend / partner and his students don’t know so they’re all shocked when they just see this badass person next to gojo and he just casually introduces them as his partner lol. just a thought!! make sure to take care of yourself 💕
a/n: thank you smmmm for the kind words <333 yes omg i love this idea and honestly, i imagine gojo pretending to be chill on the outside but on the inside he's fangirling the same way his students are over his partner cause he's just so whipped and down bad for them jdjsndnsbd
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"Shhhh! Quiet down, you two or you're gonna get us all caught." Nobara hisses through her teeth at Megumi and Yuji, trying her best to be quiet. It was quite a comical sight actually, the three students were all stacked on top of each other as they all attempted to crane their necks into the doorway as discretely as they possibly could.
"I still don't understand why we can't just ask like normal people." Megumi sighs, clearly exasperated at his friend's antics.
"You're such a buzzkill, Fushiguro." Nobara scolds him over her shoulder. It was like he didn't even understand the gravity of this situation.
This wasn't a situation where they could just waltz in and chat it up like regular unless they were intent on embarrassing themselves. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to meet the current rising star of the jujutsu world: the newly minted special-grade sorcerer L/N Y/N who was famed for being highly elusive, never being in one place for too long to be tied down to somewhere.
Rumours and stories were constantly swirling about you ranging from the more serious ones about your incredible feats of jujutsu and how you managed to exorcise a grade 1 curse for one of your very first missions without breaking a single sweat to more silly ones like that you only wash your face with the purest spring water that was imported from the Swiss Alps and that allegedly you and Gojo Satoru were seeing each other. She thought the last one was particularly dumb as she was sure that a person of your calibre would have better taste than to date their man-child of a teacher, even if he was the strongest. Whatever it was, Nobara was not going to let those two ruin her chances of possibly being able to talk with you face to face.
Above her, Yuji groans out in pain as he feels an elbow jam into his stomach.
"Hey! That hurts!" Yuji complains loudly, his grip tightening around the wooden door frame.
"Can't you be in pain more quietly?" Nobara asks and with that, the two of them were sent into a bickering spat as they traded harsh whispers and snappy comments. However, this would prove to be their end as Megumi eventually loses his balance from all of the commotion above him and tumbles onto the floor with the other two following suit as they land in what can only be described as a failed human pretzel.
Unfortunately, their crash was not as quiet as Nobara was hoping for as one of the office's inhabitants stood up from his seat, seemingly made aware of their presence. "Oh? It seems like we have some eavesdroppers in our midst."
You hum to yourself, your back still facing the doorway as you turn to your white-haired companion. "Is that true?"
"Yes, I think I might know who they are as well. If only they would be so brave enough to reveal themselves." Gojo sighs dramatically, even bringing a hand to his chest as if to feign sympathy. You can't help but giggle softly at his behaviour.
The three of them take that as their cue to stand up, dusting themselves off as they slowly make their way into the office in a single file line. When Nobara sees you, she can't even let herself fully fangirl because the amount of embarrassment she has at getting caught trying to eavesdrop is far outweighing it right now.
Gojo makes his way towards his students as they stand lined up, his hands rubbing together and a devious grin on his face as he puts on his best menacing voice. "Now now now, what do we have here?"
"Satoru, take it easy on them. I'm sure they meant no harm by it." You place a hand on his shoulder as you stroll up to his side. His arms immediately fall to his side as he melts under your touch.
An adorable pout graces his features, his bottom lip jutted out in an attempt to put on his best puppy dog look as he whines at you, "Awww, but you're ruining my funnn. I don't get that many opportunities to do this."
"Sensei, they know you by your first name?" Yuji questions, his head tilted slightly to the side as he tries to figure out what relationship you two could possibly have.
A sly snicker is heard from Gojo as he quirks his eyebrows towards you. "They know me in a lot more ways than just that" he quips back, his tone bordering on being an outright innuendo.
You roll your eyes affectionately at him, clearly used to his playful nature by this point, and give him a light shove on the shoulder to which he pretends to exaggeratedly nurse in pain.
"Sorry for not introducing myself properly, my name is L/N Y/N and I'm a special-grade sorcerer here on a visit to Tokyo Jujustu High." You smile warmly at your boyfriend's students, your hands clasped in front of you as you greet them.
Nobara could feel her breath hitch in her throat as a million thoughts ran through her mind. Oh my god, you, her idol, were actually right in front of her and were acknowledging her. She swears she could die happy right this instance but that would mean that she wouldn't get to take full advantage of the chance to talk to you fully. With that, she snaps out of her star-struck daze and politely inquires, "If you don't mind me asking L/N-san, what are you here for?"
"Oh, they're here to visit yours truly, me!" Gojo chimes in, a megawatt grin on his face with a sense of pride radiating off of him as he motions to himself.
A tsk sound escapes Nobara, clearly distrustful of her teacher's statement. "Yeah right, they have way more important things to be doing than that."
"But it's true though! My lovely partner is here to pay a surprise visit to me!"
"There's no way that that's true. You and them?" As if to punctuate her point, she points at you and Gojo standing side by side and firmly shakes her head. "Nuh uh. They wouldn't date the likes of you."
A soft smack is heard as Gojo theatrically clutches his chest, stumbling back from where he stands to drape himself over you. "It wounds me to hear you say that Kugisaki." He claims, his expression twisted into one of faux pain. When he turns to face you, his demeanour suddenly switches as he leans in towards your ear, a roughish smile on his face with a faintly seductive lilt to his voice. "Maybe we should kiss to prove that it's true."
"Don't be crude, Satoru, they're your students and they're right in front of us." You try to brush him off of you in an attempt to spare his students from becoming witnesses to their teacher's love for PDA but he doesn't let go of his grip, instead choosing to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck as if trying to coax you to stay with him in his embrace. Like always, you relent to his touch with your fingers carding through his snowy locks, a soft sigh of approval leaving his lips.
There's a beat of silence as Nobara and Yuji try to process what they've just learned and the fact that they've just seen a visual confirmation of it before that peace is shattered and they erupt into a thousand questions. You field all of their burning questions ranging from ones about you to about your relationship with Gojo with grace, amused and endeared by their excitement and insatiable curiosity. Secretly, it warms your heart deeply that Gojo and his students are so comfortable with each other and that he can be himself around them without the pressure of the greater Jujutsu world on his back.
You turn to look at the clock and sigh at how fast time has gone by. "Alright, I'll see you at home Satoru and Megumi." You comment, packing up your belongings as you get ready to leave to attend to some business. Gojo leans down to your height as you place a lingering kiss against his cheek and wave him and his students goodbye.
Unblinking, Yuji and Nobara turn to each other and then to Megumi before they exclaim simultaneously. "You all live together!?"
Oh boy, Megumi knows he's going to be in for an earful with that.
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hyukalyptus · 1 day
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heyy could u do smthing like txt reactions to u using the safe word while at it????
omg of course!! i love this idea sm.
cw. use of safe word, all of them stop ofc, sex, rough bdsm stuff is not mentioned, soob is big and clumsy and reader likes pushing limits, gyu uses red/green/yellow system and likes pushing limits, pet names (baby), aftercare, tae's kinda vanilla and feels guilty, kai is kinky asf (but that's not discussed here; go check out lia's duality for that lol), cuddling, kissing.
smut(?) under cut!
yeonjun - omg honestly i think he’d be the absolute sweetest. stops in his tracks, lifts his hands off you, but stays inside you to wait for further instruction. doesn't apologize because you've ask him not to in the past (makes you feel guilty) and he's worked so hard to make sure you feel safe with him and that you're not hesitant using the safe word. he's so proud (but doesn't show it) that you feel safe enough to use the safe word with him. "what did i do? what can i do to make it better?” doesn't touch you until you say its okay. once you've caught your breath and have calmed down, he very cautiously and with your permission picks things back up, finishing you, but he doesn't finish himself. he can get off later.
soobin - he's the one that insisted on creating a safe word in the first place. he knows he can sometimes be just a bit too clumsy and a bit too big that he doesn't know if he's hurting his sex partners or if they're just playing into it. so he learned quickly that he needs to establish a safe word every time, especially since you like pushing the limits. things start getting a little too hot and heavy for your liking and he's getting a little too carried away. it feels so good at first, until he takes it just a bit too far. typically, you're usually comfortable enough to ease him down with body language and talking, but something was off today and you needed it to stop. he comes to a slow stop, relaxing his hands, loosening his grip on you and turning them into soothing strokes and caresses. asking and giving exactly what you need.
beomgyu - first of all, i see him as the type to use the red, yellow, green system. and can definitely see him pushing you into yellow a lot. and he loves it (as do you), but he's cautious. the second you say red, he drops everything. "was that too much for my baby? i'm sorry..." going to get you some water and sitting down to have an in-depth conversation about what was too far. "did you like the idea of it and i just went too far? did you want to try it again but slower? was what i did completely out of the question now? what can i do to make you feel safer next time? do you feel safe right now?" turns into soft and slow aftercare that eventually warms up to slow and sensual sex to make up for it.
taehyun - i think feels the most guilty out of them. he doesn't strike me as the kinda guy to be super into kink stuff, so i think he almost doesnt know how to handle it other than apologizing. asks a lot of questions, like, "are you okay? you sure? do you want me to finish you? i'd be happy to if you like." and you agreeing that you'd still like to come as long as he still wants to and is comfortable to keep going but as soon as he's inside you, "are you sure you're okay if i finish too?" maybe becomes a bit too nervous before both of you agree its better for both of you to stop completely and cuddle the rest of the night.
hueningkai - honestly i feel like kai's kinky asf and i will not be silenced any longer. he talks a lot about it with you beforehand anyway, so its rare that you (or any of his partners) get to that point because he knows all ur limits and how to push them and how to not push them too far. so you saying it is a bit of a shock, but he knows exactly what to do. drops everything, slides out of you, asks what you need from him. and when you request cuddles, he's the biggest cuddle bug ever. cheek kisses, whispers in ur ear about how perfect and beautiful you are. dragging his nails down ur arm. omfg i love him.
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hiraethwrote · 12 hours
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❝ I AM TELLING YOU I LOVE YOU PT. 2 ❞
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✧ including [seperate]: m. fushiguro, y. itadori, y. okkutsa, n. kugisaki, m. zenin ✧ summary: the first time saying 'i love you' to each other ✧ cw: f!reader, all aged up (20ish) FLUFF!, crack, mild cursing, jealosy, arguing, sexual innuendos, no use of y/n, established relationships ✧ word count: 3.9k (600-950 each)
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MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
Right on cue.
Just like most nights, his bedroom door creaked open followed by tiny taps of quick footsteps making their way over to him. He was startled from his half-slumber when you practically threw yourself in the bed beside him, draping your arm across his chest and tangling your legs with his before burying your face in the crook of his neck, taking in his scent.
You hummed satisfied now that you were finally able to be pressed up against your boyfriend after a long and exhausting day, reactively relaxing your muscles when you could just barely feel his thumb stroke the faintest circles on your shoulder.
“Hey you,” he mumbled, only causing you to squeeze even closer to him.
“Hi.” Shit. Just from that single syllable, Megumi could tell you weren’t even the slightest bit tired. Quite the opposite, actually.
You’re schedule often went into the late hours of the evening which resulted the adrenaline still pumping through you by the time you turned in for the night. There was not a single chance you’d fall asleep any time soon, which Megumi knew would mean he had to prepare himself to have you talk his ears off until your exhaustion eventually caught up with you.
“How was the shift?”
“Oh my god, you will not believe one of the customers that came in today,” you groaned, pulling away an inch so you could talk freely as your eyes followed the attractive line of his side profile. “She kept trying to haggle, but I would not budge. So she went on to threaten me with a lawsuit.”
“You kidding?”
“No, dead serious. Batshit crazy. My boss had to come and throw her out.” You spotted the corner of his lips quirk up into a tiny smirk. “Then there people in the store until the very last- oh my god, I can’t believe I forgot to tell you!” You yelped, interrupting yourself.
He flinched at your sudden movements of disappearing from his embrace, resting your entire hand on his chest. Peaking open one of his eyes to take a look at you, he wallowed in the sight of your pretty bottom lip tucked between your teeth in excitement, hair tied messily back in a bun so he was able to admire your face.
A deep sigh parted his lips, closing his eyes again and tucking one arm under his head to get more comfortable to listen to all you had to say.
He didn’t mind, though. Frankly, he could listen to you go on and on about any topic for hours, no matter how little it concerned him. It truly pleased him to witness how eager you got when talking to him and telling him all about every aspect of your day.
“What?” He said in a hushed groan.
“Yuta’s got a girl!”
“Oh?”
“Yuji told me. Apparently for a while now as well. But he hasn’t really told anyone because he didn’t want anyone to butt in.”
“I could understand that,” he sighed. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the curious look you gave him.
“Care to elaborate?” As he was about to answer, a grunt was pushed out of him at the sudden surprise of you swinging one of your legs over him to sit on his stomach, hands slowly rubbing his chest. His hands found your thighs and squeezing softly, reaching just under the edge of your pyjama’s shorts.
“I didn’t tell anyone about us for a long time.”
“Really?” The amusement on your voice rang in his ear, having him open his eyes talking you in entirely, eyes instantly drawn to the tight tank top he found a little too enticing.
“I mean,” a shy shrug of his shoulders. “If I somehow screwed things up, no one would know.”
“Huh.” He narrowed his eyebrows, surprised at how little you had to say about it all.
“What?”
“Just funny how different we are. Nobara knows everything from the moment we started talking until now.”
A shallow breath you thought was supposed to be a chuckle slipped out of him. “That explains a lot.”
“Speaking of Nobara,” you trailed off, sliding your hands upwards to cup his cheeks, watching as he fought the urge to roll his eyes, certain he knew where this was going. “She asked me to go shopping with her tomorrow-“
“No.”
“Please,” you whined, a sweet pout on your face as you leaned forward, hoping that teasing him with a kiss could convince him. “I want you come along.”
“Not interested.”
“I’ll suck your dick,” the grin audible in your voice, instantly causing him to chuckle.
“Babe, I love you but I don’t wanna trail along-“
“Hold on, hold on, hold on. Rewind a few seconds, mister!” You said eagerly, sitting up straight again.
“Nothing.” The dimmed light from the moonlight searing through the window revealed the blush that had crept onto his cheeks.
“You love me?” You teased.
“No, I don’t. I take it back.” He’d closed his eyes again, hoping that his embarrassment would evaporate if he didn’t have to look at you.
“Nah-ah, not allowed. You love me,” you sing sang, leaning forward again to brush the tip of your nose against his.
“You’re a menace,” he sighed.
“Good thing I love you too.”
“You do?” Daring to look at you again, there was such genuine compassion in your eyes, nodding with enthusiasm, telling him you’d been waiting to hear those three words. Hands roaming up your waist, he wrapped them around you to pull you closer, your excited squeals mixing with cute giggles.
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YUJI ITADORI
Even though the sun had gotten low on the horizon, setting the sky on fire, the life of the fun fair showed no signs of slowing down. Flashing lights and loud cheers from every corner of the fair only fed your own excitement.
You’d both turned in the last exam and the fun fair was the perfect way to celebrate having survived yet another semester. Having just come down from a romantic trip around the ferris wheel, you now simply strolled through the place with your hands intertwined.
You had no time to react to Yuji’s grip on your hand tightening before he pulled you after him, suddenly standing in front of one of the many booths lining the path.
“Yuji-“ you gasped softly at the abrupt loss of his touch as he had reached deep in his pockets to fish out some of his tickets.
“Sorry, babe,” he was quick to apologise by placing a tiny peck on your lips. “But just let me do this!” His eyes glistened with childlike joy which quickly softened the line between your creased eyebrows.
With much eager, Yuji grabbed the first baseball that had been placed in front of him before succumbing to complete focus. Aiming straight at the centre of the tin can pyramid, he swung his arm and hurled the ball with immense power only for it to miss the cans entirely.
Your lips pinched together in a an attempt to hide a small smirk that was making its way onto your face. “You’ll hit on the next one.”
He rolled his shoulders and exhaled a sharp breath. Another swing — and another miss, the ball flying straight into the net behind the pyramid. “Shit,” he breathed softly.
“Good thing you’re a batter and not a pitcher,” you mocked him, instantly have him spin around to face you, sporting a strict scowl and his bottom lip out in the tiniest pout. “Sorry! Kidding. Third time’a a charm, you’ll knock ‘em down now.”
He prepared himself to throw the last ball, confident this was the one, where he’d win the biggest prize so he could proudly gift it to you.
One last time, the ball pierced through the air, barely grazing the can standing on the top, carefully tipping it over while the rest of the pyramid stood just as strong as before he even threw the first ball.
The disappointment came crashing over him like a tidal wave, shoulders slumping over as he ogled with sad eyes at the tiny teddy bear he was handed as a constellation prize.
“Those things are always rigged!” You tried to comfort him as you’d started walking away from the booth where Yuji had just had his confidence absolutely obliterated. “Don’t think too much about it.”
“You trying to tell me ball toss is rigged?” Seeking comfort, he let his hand slide along your back before tenderly grabbing your waist and handing you the teddy bear.
“Why else would you mess up all three throws so badly?” You said, a hint of humour in your voice that seemed to cause the corner of his lip to tug upwards just a little.
“Just really wanted to win you a big one.”
“I know, baby. But I prefer this one anyways,” you shrugged as you placed a small kiss on his cheek as a thank you.
“You’re a great liar.” You were more than pleased to be able to have eased his mood as you heard a slight snicker had made its way into his tone.
“I’m not lying!” You exclaimed. “The big one would just take up your space in bed anyways, so this is for the better!”
“Promise?”
“Yes, I promise,” you smiled and cupped his cheek, having him instinctively lean into your touch. “I love it.”
“And I love you.” The words simply fell out of his mouth, your smile faltering instantly in pure shock, cheeks flushing a bright red.
Say something… anything!
Never had you been as speechless as right now, so badly wanting to let the words tumble out of you, just like he had managed to let them slip. But every single confession died before they managed to get passed your lips.
As the uncomfortable silence lingered, the colour drained from his face and his overcompensating nerves took control of his mouth in order to try and redeem his dignity.
“If that’s okay!” He rushed. “If not we can pretend I never said anything and go take the ferris wheel again- even though I do mean it. Sorry! Again, forget I said it. Want cotton candy?” He rambled before grabbing your hand to drag you along with him for another ride — any ride — but didn’t manage to get far as your firmly planted feet haltered his movement.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, watching how his face winced at the feeling of you using all your strength to clench his hand.
“Ow, ow, ow, babe, you gotta let go-“
“I love you!” You blurted out, all three words melting into one incoherent mumble, but by the pure adoration visible in Yuji’s expression, you suspected he heard you.
“Really?” The innocent question sounded from him.
“Yes?” You swallowed, scared beyond belief having uttered those three so important words.
The insecurity was quickly smothered when Yuji didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, lifting you up in a bone crushing hug and placing a passionate kiss right on your lips to seal the truth you’d both finally spilled.
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YUTA OKKOTSU
“You know when you’ll be coming back?” You asked lazily, still tucked under the duvet aS you gazed lovingly up at your boyfriend who was packing his backpack, just about to head out the door.
“Not sure yet. Have classes until three and then we’re supposed to have study group,” he sighed.
“I say you skip lectures today and stay in bed with me instead,” you suggested innocently, gawking at him with puppy dog eyes.
A weak smile danced on his lips and he turned to look at you. “You know I can’t.” At least his tone served as some comfort, telling you he’d much rather spend time with you than fulfill his responsibilities as a dutiful student. “Classes are mandatory, and it would be kinda shitty just to bail on the group.”
“But bailing on your girlfriend is okay?” You moped, bottom lip jutting forward in a dramatic pout, earning you a lighthearted chuckle from Yuta. He made his way over to you, taking a seat at the edge of the bed, capturing your plump lip in a deep kiss.
“You’re a minx.” The hint of playfulness in his voice quickly wiped away the pretend disappointment, unable to do anything but smile after receiving such sweet affection.
“Only for you.” Your hand lurked out from under the covers to tug at his fingers, desperate to be in contact with him as long as you could, since you eventually had to say goodbye for the day.
You knew you were overreacting, as he’d walk into the dorm later that evening and you’d talk about his day over shared dinner — probably some Chinese leftovers from the day before.
But on days like these, where the universe had decided to mismatch your schedules, lining up his most busy day of the week with your off day, you got particularly whiny about missing him seeing as you’d grown so accustomed to his company most of the time.
“Gotta go now,” he sighed sadly and leaned forward to place another small kiss on your lips. “Love you, bye.”
Got up and left… what?
The dorm became eerie quiet, just a confused ringing in your ear as you tried to wrap your head around the bomb he dropped before jetting out of there without another word.
Taking a glance at the clock on the wall, you realised you’d just been sat in the bed in utter disbelief for a good ninety minutes, digesting it all. When you finally managed to gather yourself and get up, you anxiously paced around the small room, desperate to put all the chaotic emotions somewhere but it didn’t work.
Checking your phone constantly, there had been no text or call from him, which was unusual. Not a day went by where you didn’t hear at least a single ding just to ask how you were doing — you knew he was churning over the slip of the tongue as well.
The hours came and went, instantly jumping up from the desk chair when the door peaked open, a hunched over Yuta making himself known.
“Hi,” you croaked when he’d stepped all the way inside, both hands tucked behind his back.
“Hey,” he said sweetly. Slowly, he removed his hands from his back, revealing a lovely bouquet of colourful flowers, filling the room with a delightful floral scent.
“Oh, they’re beautiful,” you breathed as you gathered up the courage to accept them, tingles pulsing through your body when your fingers brushed against his. “Thank you.”
“I’m really sorry about this morning.” Making direct eye contact, his eyes were filled with pure compassion, so many unsaid words hidden in them.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” your lips twitching in a tiny smile.
“I shouldn’t have just stormed out after that. I didn’t mean to-“
“I love you too!” You interrupted, causing him to blink at you, lips slightly open in disbelief before you saw his shoulders relax.
“So it’s not too soon for us?”
You pondered for a second. “Isn’t that kind of up to us?” A soft smile grew on his lips, hand reaching up slowly stroke your cheek with his knuckles.
“I guess you’re right.”
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NOBARA KUGISAKI
Hands neatly folded behind your back, placing one one foot graciously in front of the other, showing off from your best side in an attempt to brace yourself for the wrath that might face you once you told her about your little accident. Anxiously, you kept fidgeting with the envelope you hid in your hands.
“There my beautiful girlfriend is,” you purred once you reached her, leaning forward to place a tender peck on her forehead, instantly feeling her eyebrows narrow under your lips.
“What did you do?”
Gaping at her, exaggerating the offence you took at her vague accusation. “Why do you assume I did something?” Now she raised her eyebrows, tilting her head at you with judgement in her eyes.
“Looking too cute to be innocent.”
“Always so smooth. And pretty. So, so pretty-“
“Spill,” she demanded, instantly hitching your voice in your throat.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you presented her with the white envelope, covered in red lipstick stains shaped as your lips, an innocent grin spreading from ear to ear.
“What’s this?”
“A gift obviously,” you mocked her, making her roll her eyes.
She didn’t dare take her eyes off you, trying to deduce what might have happened. “This is extremely cheesy. Even for you,” she teased, wiggling the envelope in front of her to get her point across.
“Will you just open it? Please?” With a deep sigh, she slid her finger under the glued sheet, ears on guard in case you decided to reveal what it was you might have done for her to deserve this treatment.
In it was the ugliest, lovey-dovey card Nobara had ever laid her eyes upon, plastered with hearts and kisses all over. With another sigh she used her thumb to tilt the pages apart to reveal a gift card — blatantly ignoring the ink you’d scribbled on the empty pages.
“Can you please tell me what you did?” She whined, stress building up in you as she’s only retrieved the gift card inside.
Your face started to grow hot with anticipation, knowing sooner rather than later she would read the text you’d written for her. Swallowing your stress, you finally opened your mouth to explain your mistake. “I may or may not have snuck into your wardrobe and borrowed your white button up.” Slowly her eyebrows grew tighter as she dropped your name sternly. “And I may or may not have accidentally spilled coffee on it.”
A low groan escaped her, hands dropping into her lap. “You did not!”
“Hence the gift card!” You hurried to say, finally gathering up the courage to sit down beside her, placing a soft hand on her thigh. “And also this,” you whispered shyly as your finger lightly tapped the text.
“Girl, you know that shirt was one-“
“Please just read the damn card,” an insecure chuckle slipped you by, causing you to capture her eye.
“Oh, okay.” Holding your gaze, she saw there was something deeper beneath the surface. Without saying much more, she accepted your agitated plea and let her eyes travel the page, slowly taking in the words, expression smoothing the further she got until she reached the end.
‘I love you.’
Snapping her head up to look at you again, her eyes had welled up with tears. “Really?” She squealed.
“Really,” you confirmed, grabbing her hand in yours to contain the tremble pulsing through your body having finally been brave enough to confess.
Her free hand didn’t hesitate to find your face to pull you in, lips colliding in a deep kiss, pouring all the devotion she had for you into it. “I love you too!”
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MAKI ZENIN
You slammed the bathroom door shut with the power of a thousand suns, certain it could be heard in all the other dorms surrounding you. Quickly you locked the door before she had the opportunity to even try and barge in, turning around and sliding down it until you sat firmly on the ground, wrapping your arms around your bent knees.
One - two - three - four - five knocks banged against the door. “You’re acting ridiculous! Come on out so we can talk about it!”
“Sure, that’ll make me open the door,” you shouted back. You pictured her clear as day; one hand leaning on the door frame, the other resting on her hip as she tapped her foot frantically and rolled her eyes into the back of her head.
“This is not worth getting upset about.”
“But it is. And I am!”
“Fine!” You practically heard her pinch the bridge of her nose before a low thud made you flinch slightly, telling you she’d sat down against the door as well. “I’ll be here when you’re ready to stop acting like a brat and come out.”
A sharp breath left your nose, determined not to be the one to fold. Maki could sit there and wait for all you cared — you were not going to open that door until you heard an apology leave her mouth.
The silence fell over the two of you, resulting you in pulling out your phone to pass the time. It didn’t last long, however, as after just an hour the battery icon glowed red.
“Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, knowing you’d probably have to surrender due to boredom eventually. Not to mention you did miss her, despite only sixty minutes passing and the fact that she was separated from you with as little as three inches of wood. “Maki?” You dared to speak, hearing shuffling from the other side of the door, suspecting she’d gotten up on her feet.
“Yeah?”
“I’m still upset!”
“Figured.” You couldn’t know for sure, but there was a chance there was no frustration to be sensed in her voice. Maybe she actually just wanted to fix this for once without all the huffing.
“Can you understand why I’m upset?”
“I mean-“ then came a sigh, but not an upset one per say. Just one that was deep in thought in order to see it from your perspective. “Maybe a little.”
You too, made your way onto your feet, resting you hand on the handle. “It bothers me to see other people all over you, Maki!” Silence. “And I wish, that sometimes you could do more to shut it down.”
Maki chewed the inside of her cheek, carefully leaning her forehead against the door and thinking carefully over how to best approach this. She did think you were being a little silly, because it shouldn’t matter. She was with you, and she planned to keep it that way, so she didn’t see why this was all such a big deal.
“You know I don’t care about anyone else, right?”
It wasn’t often she got like this — soft and thoughtful. She usually had her cold guard up, not even engaging in any physical affection. That was definitely your department, though she liked it more than she’d admit, tiny smirks curling her lips whenever you laced your fingers with hers.
But she seemed to have gotten the picture that this really bugged you, which demanded her to bring out her soft side.
“I know,” you grumbled stubbornly.
“Because I love you.” The door swung open at the speed of light, Maki nearly colliding head first into you at the sudden loss of the door she was resting on, catching her balance just in time to look at you stare back at her with eyes the size of saucers.
“You’re sick if this is some joke to get me to open the door!” Maki couldn’t help but chuckle smugly at the sight of your panicked face paired up with your strained and rushed statement.
“I wouldn’t joke about something like this. That would only make me a bitch.” You simply quirked an eyebrow at her. “Fine. More of a bitch.”
Slowly, but surely, your nerves began to settle as you reached out to grab her fingertips slightly, craving to feel her touch. “Love you too,” you spoke sweetly, lips pursed in a tight pout.
Maki couldn’t help herself, reactively leaning forward to place a small kiss on your inviting lips. “So we’re good?”
“Buy me dinner and we’re good,” you hummed, she only rolled her eyes at you.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
a/n fun fact, the customer interaction in megumi's part is inspired by the time i actually got physically assaulted by a customer lol fun times...
also wanted to include inumaki but i couldn’t come up with a scenario that would do him justice so maybe next time
(and another also… been having a mild case of impostor syndrome considering how many followers i gained since my last fic so now im scared nothing will live up to it hehe)
reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated
plagiarism not authorized
205 notes · View notes
zepskies · 3 days
Text
Every Second Counts - Part 1
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Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader
Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the first one you trust to help you find him. 
AN: Finally, here we are at Part 1! Remember that A Line and a Half functions as our prologue here.
Word Count: 5.7K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some mature thoughts. Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, drug use, mentions of drug addiction and alcoholism, skeevy men, and a tinge of spice.~
💜 Series Masterlist
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Part 1: "Permission Granted"
“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 
You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still at the Wyoming University campus after your last class.
Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.
“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.
After brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, she went to you and set her hands on your shoulders.
“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.” 
Your face began to heat up in a blush. You crossed your arms.
“All right, no one said there was going to be any of that,” you replied. “It’s just a date. Barely a date, mind you.”
“A-huh,” Dory said with a sneaking smile. “Out of curiosity, what was it about him that hooked you? You’ve been dodging Chris’s valiant attempts for like a month now.”
Chris was a French and Spanish professor. His office was on the same floor as yours, so you two occasionally crossed paths whenever you ventured into the teacher’s lounge.
He usually caught you in the morning while you were grabbing your free coffee fix at the Keurig. He’d chat you up about his classes and his dog and his new boat, and all the while you’d struggle to get a word in edgewise. Despite that, he was good-looking and pleasant, for the most part. It was just…
“I don’t know. He’s not my type, I guess,” you shrugged. You kind of liked conversations where both people got to speak.
“And Russell is?” Dory said, in a teasing tone. You chewed the inside of your lip, fighting a smile.
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Kind of want to find out though.”
“Okay, well, let me know what you find,” Dory said, more wryly. You caught a bit of melancholy when her gaze drifted off. Your brows furrowed in concern as you drew closer, setting a hand on her arm.
“What do you mean?” you asked.
She was hesitant, but she eventually answered you with a confession.
“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”
You could understand that. You squeezed her arm in sympathy.
“Well, he really seems to want to know you now,” you said. You remembered all the questions he asked you when he helped you carry your files back to your office after lunch today—most of them about Dory, about her career, your friendship, and ultimately, if she was happy.
“What happened to you guys?” you asked. “Why are you all so distant? Colter included.”
Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”
You dimmed at that. You knew their mother still lived in the cabin they grew up in, but Dory had never quite been able to tell you what happened to their dad. You’d never pushed the subject. You knew better than anyone what kind of pain that was. 
“I just wish we’d been able to stay with each other. Me and my brothers, at least,” Dory said. But she adopted a smile for you, before she returned to her desk.
“Okay. Go on your non-date at your favorite bar with Russell. I’ll be here, grading papers until Judgment Day,” she said, with a small laugh that felt like a coverup for thoughts she no longer wanted to think about.
You let her do it. You grabbed your purse and work bag off the spare chair in front of her desk.
“So you’re sure,” you wanted to confirm. “One last chance for me to tell him I came down with food poisoning.”
Dory collected her stack of midterm papers and gave you a cheeky look that said, class dismissed. Then she clicked her red pen and pointedly looked down at the first batch of papers to read through.
You smiled. Okay, you thought, giving her a little wave goodbye when you turned to leave. You had just a couple of hours to drive home and get ready to meet Russell.
“Goodnight,” you called.
“Goodniiight,” Dory replied.
You heard the smirk in her voice without even having to look back.
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After fighting through rush hour traffic, you were exhausted when you got home from work. Your tentative excitement and nerves about tonight gave you some new energy though, even if you thought those nerves were silly to have.
Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.
The Ring Camera beside the door chimed when you entered the house, signaling your arrival. You had to wrinkle your nose at the dank-ass smell that greeted you.
Frowning in annoyance, you dropped your stuff on the kitchen table for now and shucked off your heels. You made a beeline down the hall, to the bedroom that lied across from yours. You pushed it open without knocking. There you caught your older brother, Charlie, snoozing in his bed with the covers half pooling on the floor.
His room was a mess, as usual. Your gaze locked on the evidence of half a blunt on his nightstand and two smoked roaches beside it. You were glad it wasn’t remnants of white lines of powder, like times before, but there was also a large bottle of whiskey. It was almost empty, and hanging loosely from his hand.
He managed to raise his head a bit when you came in.
“Hey,” he said, blinking bleary eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to sit up.
You shook your head and picked around piles of dirty clothes and a couple of used paper plates on the floor. You swiftly grabbed the bottle from his hand and slammed it on the nightstand.
“You promised me, Charlie,” you snapped. “You promised me for the hundredth time that you’d quit all this shit. Where even were you last night? You weren’t home when I left for work this morning.”
He sighed, frowning at how loud you were, and sat up in bed. He swung his legs over the side and held his swimming head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair. It was nearly black, like Dad’s had been, but he’d inherited Mom’s lighter eyes.
“I got invited to a party,” he said. “I’m sorry, I know. This is the last time.”
You expelled a frustrated breath and shook your head.
“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said. 
“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say it,” he said. He shut his eyes tight, probably trying to fend off a headache. 
Good, you thought. Let that be a reminder of how bad he’d screwed up again. 
“And while we’re at it, what about your half of the bills? You’re a week late,” you said, testily crossing your arms.
“Yeah, I’m a little behind,” he said. Once again, he cleared his throat past a wad of phlegm. He was still a bit crossfaded too, you could tell. “You know they cut my hours to part-time at the museum. I’ve, uh, I’ve been looking into getting another job—”
“I already paid the phone bill. And the internet, the water bill, the electricity,” you said. “The house may be paid off, but the least you can do is pay your half of living here.”
The longer you stared at him, seeing the guilt hidden behind drunken eyes, you realized he wasn’t just late on his half of the bills.
“How much?” you asked.
He frowned up at you. “What?”
“How much do you owe?” you said. Your voice was as cutting as your gaze. Charlie lowered his.  
“It’s okay, don’t worry—”
“How much,” you pressed.
He looked up at you again, this time with pursed lips. After a beat, he sighed and gave in.
“About two grand,” he admitted.
You raised your eyes heavenward, muttering a curse. Your hands went to your temples as you had to pace the room. You were angry and exasperated in equal measure.
“Who the fuck do you owe two grand?!” you asked.
Charlie shook his head. “It’s better that I don’t tell you that.”
You paused. As you looked down at him, your anger dissolved into sadness, like it always did.
“If Mom and Dad could see you now, they wouldn’t recognize you,” you said.
Charlie fought not to react to that, his brows furrowing. Instead, he just looked down, unable to answer you.
“Charlie, you need help. I can’t keep doing this with you,” you said. Your shaky breath gave way to the burn of tears.  
His red-rimmed eyes became glassy as well.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said.
He was always sorry. And you always had to be the one to nurse him back to health, pick up the pieces, pay the bills. You were exhausted. The bone-deep kind of tired that felt like gravity wasn't so much keeping you down, but pushing you.
“I’m going to ask for two things: do what you need to do to get paid, and clean up your shit. If you can’t accomplish that, then I’m taking you to rehab,” you said.
“You know I’ve tried that,” Charlie said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Didn’t really work for me.”
“You left the program after two weeks!” you retorted.
“I did it on my own! I’ve been clean for months,” he argued.
“And what happened? You go to one party and all your good sense, all your training, mentally and physically—that all goes out the window?” you said. You had half a mind not to believe him.
“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”
Your mouth fell open incredulously.  
“I’m on your back?” you said. “Okay. I’ll get off. Do whatever the hell you want, Charlie. I’m done.”
You left his room in an angry huff. You headed over to your room so you could take a shower and start getting ready to meet Russell at Howley’s. 
By the time you got to your bedroom, you heard the front door slam closed.
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The truth was, you were no longer in a mood to have fun when you pulled up to Howley’s, but you needed to escape your house. Also, you weren’t someone who canceled on people last-minute, especially not on Dory’s own brother.
You found Russell waiting for you at the bar. He waved to you with a fifth of whiskey in hand and an easy grin. He’d saved you a seat beside him.
You found yourself smiling. Your mood began to lighten as you went over to him. He looked more or less the same, but this time the jacket and jeans combo was navy blue and dark wash, respectively. His hair was swept back, lightly gelled. You smelled the familiar, rich woodiness of his cologne when you drew near, along with a hint of spicy soap.
“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.
“Hey, yourself,” you replied, and thanked him for the assist onto the tall stool. You’d opted for jeans and a blouse, paired with your favorite leather boots. It was less dressy than he’d seen you before, but that was “work mode.” This was a more casual affair, even if you’d spent at least twenty extra minutes on your makeup.
You were glad he picked a spot at the end of the bar though. It put some distance from the group of guys getting rowdy as they cheered at the football game playing on the TV.
“How was the rest of your day, Professor?” he asked. “And what’re you wanting to drink?”
You let out a long sigh and turned toward him, resting your elbow on the counter.
“Awesome. I’m going to need two shots of tequila and an order of something fried, and preferably covered with cheese, please,” you replied.
Russell’s grin deepened. “Okay, I’m thinking ‘awesome’ is code for something. But we can get started on that order of Forget Today’s Unfortunate Events.”
He flagged down the bartender with a raise of his hand, but he shot you a glance.
“Though I’m hoping it’s not all of today that you wanna forget,” he said.
Your lips threatened another smile, as the memory of your hand being swept up into his, and soft lips meeting the back of your hand filtered through your mind.
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s possible,” you said.
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After about ten minutes of playfully debating the appetizer menu (you swore by the pretzel and beer cheese, but Russell had his eye on those spicy wings), he finally settled on ordering both.
“When in doubt, don’t go without,” he’d remarked.
You swept a pretty coil of hair over your shoulder and downed your tequila shots with a lime wedge. Meanwhile, Russell tried not to linger his eyes on the way your tongue swept over your finger to catch a drop of lime juice. Your nails were manicured, and the shade of the polish matched your lipstick.
Russell didn’t pretend to know the art and science of a woman’s wardrobe, but everything about you was thought out, it seemed, falling in line with what he’d expect from a (sexy as all hell) college professor. You’d also told him at lunch today that as of last year, you now had two doctorates: History and Ancient Studies.
Even with all that under your belt, you also seemed refreshingly down-to-earth, a lot like Dory in that sense. He could see why you two were friends.
“So, are you from here, or are you a transplant, like my sister?” he asked.
Dory hadn’t come to live in Wyoming until their aunt and uncle took her in, when she was about eight years old. Before last month, Russell hadn’t seen her since. It hurt his heart to think about, but he tried to focus on you.
You now seemed to be staring a bit listlessly at the glass of whiskey in his hands. He laid a hand on your arm and called your name.
“Hmm?” Your brows rose as you blinked to attention. “Oh! I’m sorry. Yes, I’ve lived here pretty much forever.”
“You okay?” Russell asked. “Tequila hit ya a little hard?”
You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry…”
You raised your hands up to your temples. You debated whether you wanted to open up about this, but…considering who Russell was, you thought he might just understand.
“Dory told me you’ve been trying to reconnect with your brother, right? Colter?” you said.
Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.
“Well, you could say I’ve got a brother issue of my own,” you said, laughing humorlessly. “You don’t have to talk about yours, but maybe you’ll understand… My brother is a veteran too. He was a Captain, air force pilot. He fought in Afghanistan, mainly.”
Russell processed that with a nod. “Yeah, I was there too. Special Ops.”
“Wow, okay. Then you know what it was like for him, coming back home,” you said. Your gaze fell to your empty shot glasses. “It was hard, after…”
“After?” he prompted.
You sighed. “Near the end, he lost half his unit in a raid, off of some flawed intel.”
Russell’s brows knitted together. Hmm. Grief, survivor’s guilt, feeling like you don’t belong.
He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.
You didn’t notice, but you did push the shot glasses away from you.
“I helped him the best I could,” you said. “I got him a job at the museum I interned at when I was in undergrad. He’s there as a security guard, but it’s not really enough, you know? It’s like, nothing satisfies him. I just…I don’t think I know how to help him anymore.”
You couldn’t help it. Emotion bubbled in your throat, making it close up on you as tears stung in your eyes. Your lower lip wobbled, and you tried to turn your face away. Embarrassment coiled up in your chest and made your face hot.
You felt a hand cover yours on your thigh, squeezing warmly. You looked up and met Russell’s gaze, both sympathetic and understanding.
“I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to calm your shuddering breath. “This isn’t exactly first date material. I can’t believe I unloaded on you like that.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “Believe me, I get what your brother’s going through.”
He pushed the plate with the last piece of soft-baked pretzel over to you.
“You finish that if you want, then you go ahead and pick something else off the menu. I won’t even argue with you this time,” he promised with a grin.
It got you to laugh, at least, and he gave you a napkin for your tears.
God, get it together, you told yourself. You’re a damn mess.
“Thanks,” you said. You managed to smile as you blotted at one corner of your eye. You hoped you hadn’t just irreversibly smudged your mascara.
Russell surprised you by brushing his thumb against your other cheek, wiping a stray tear away. Your face began to warm with a blush.
“Again, I’m sorry for dumping on you. We had a fight right when I got home,” you admitted.
“What’s his name?” Russell asked.
“Charlie.”
“Older or younger than you?”
“Four years older,” you replied. “He enlisted a few years after he graduated high school.”
Russell flickered at a smile. Enlisted, huh?
Yet another thing he and Charlie had in common, except Russell hadn’t made it through high school in the classic sense.
“What do you think?” you asked.
“I think your brother sounds lost right now. I’ve known a lotta guys like him, unfortunately,” Russell admitted. “Walking back into civilian life, it ain’t easy. That I know my damn self. Just like I know a thing or two about being an older brother. He’s probably doing his best to keep it off your shoulders.”
You shook your head at that. Trying, maybe.
You weren’t even sure of that anymore. Still, it made you all the more curious about Russell and his family.
“I know I said I wouldn’t ask this, and you don’t have to answer. But did you and Colter have a falling out or something?” you asked.
Russell expelled a deep breath and took a sip from his glass. How was he supposed to navigate this minefield with you?
“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said.
“Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.”
He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”
He shook his head and drained the rest of his glass. 
“Well, my brother’s got an idea about me that isn’t true,” he said.
Your head tilted in curiosity. “Which is?”
His lips briefly raised in a wan smile. 
“We don’t gotta get into that one tonight. But uh, the truth is, I’ve tried reaching out to him several times now. He just doesn’t wanna hear from me,” said Russell.
You considered him for a moment. You laid a hand on his arm, covered by his jacket. 
“Don’t give up,” you said, with a sigh of your own. “Despite some things I said to him today, I know I can’t. My brother’s the only real family I have.”
Russell grew curious then. “What about your parents?”
You gave a weak smile.
“They passed away when we were young, but…we don’t have to get into that one tonight,” you said, borrowing his words. 
His expression fell. “Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you,” you accepted, twisting the napkin around your fingers.
An awkward lull of silence fell between you, until Russell nodded and blew out a breath.
“Well. Heavy, huh?”
You chuckled and rested your head against your hand.
“I know. Again, my fault,” you replied. 
“It’s okay, swee—. Mmm,” he cut himself off, shooting you a knowing glance.
“Were you about to sweetheart me?” you asked playfully, nudging his hand. “You know how I feel about that.”
“No, ma’am. Not at all,” Russell shook his head. His smile gave him away though. You laughed and grabbed his arm.
“Come on,” you said.
He allowed you to lead him out of his seat. He already had a tab open, so he’d settle up with the bar later. “Where we going?”
“You’re gonna lose to me at pool,” you said with a smirk.
Russell laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist instead.
“Oh, okay. I’m gonna give you a run for your money, though,” he promised.
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And he was true to his word.
Russell Shaw turned out to be a more than worthy opponent. You studied the board as you changed the angle on your cue stick no less than five times.
“You gonna make a move, or we going to be here all night?” he said.
He was smiling as he leaned against his own cue on the other side of the board. His clever moves had left you in a difficult position to get your three remaining solid-colored balls into the pocket.
“You hush. I’m thinking,” you said, fighting your own smile.
“Careful, you’ve got steam coming out of your ears,” he teased.
You shot him a narrowed look for that. But then you smiled, as the answer came to you. You walked around to his side of the board and nudged him with your hip.
“Excuse me, sir,” you said to him over your shoulder.
Russell made way for you, but his eyes followed the way you bent over to line up your shot. Namely the curve of your ass in those tight jeans. He could see you knew exactly what you were doing, in more ways than one.
You shot your shot. The solid green ball leapt over his white-striped blue one and managed to sink into the pocket. You straightened up and gave him a triumphant little smirk.
He tried to temper his smile (and ignore the way his cock twitched).
“All right, go on, do your little victory lap," he said. "But remember, I let you go first.”
“Like that matters,” you quipped back.
You went back to the other side of the board to line up your next shot. Russell noticed a pair of drunk men ambling your way from the bar, but before he could make a subtle move to put himself in between, one of the men’s gazes slid down your form and gave into the base urge to let out a low whistle.
And he slapped you right on the ass.
You gasped, grabbing hold of the pool table. Then your shock melted into ire.
Russell was already heading toward you with an angry frown of his own, but even he had to stop short, when he watched you throw a punch that cracked the drunken man across the bridge of his nose.
Good form, Russell thought, when the guy reared back with a howl. His nose dripped blood when his hands came away from his face.
His buddy started to raise his hackles, but that was when Russell stepped to your side. He angled himself toward you and loosely gripped his pool cue by his hip, like it was an extension of his arm. He was fully prepared to use it like one.
“Fucking bitch!” said the one who was still dabbing his nose in vain. He glared at you, his eyes watering involuntarily, while his friend tried to keep him upright. You rolled your eyes.
"You're the one who's crying, bitch," you returned. Russell held in a snort. He cleared his throat and looked on at the pair of idiots.
“I’d have a little sit down if I were you,” Russell told them, with a smirk. “Let that be a lesson to ya. And if it don’t stick? Well. Whatever you start, I can damn well finish.”
His steely gaze reinforced the promise of his words. The other men were still angry, but even drunks had some sense of self-preservation. They ambled toward the back of the bar to find another pool table.
Russell focused his attention back on you, finding you looking down at your hand, rotating your wrist and flexing your fingers.
“Well, look at you, slugger,” he said. You met his smile with one of amusement.
“That’s just what I needed tonight. A broken hand,” you quipped.
“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.
Damn, she really gave it to him, Russell thought.
“Sorry,” he said, but your hand felt fine, at least. More than fine. His gaze flicked up to yours as his amused grin deepened. “Good hit though.”
If he liked you before, he might’ve fallen half in love with you right there.
You laughed through the pain. “Yeah, my brother did teach me something. Shit.”
Russell led you back to the bar after you grabbed your purse. There he called to the bartender for some ice. The guy nodded; he’d seen the entire exchange and was sympathetic.
You knew this sort of thing was just par for the course at this kind of bar, but they had the best drinks. Charlie had to carry you out of here on your twenty-first birthday, drunk off your ass. Not to mention, he’d punched out two handsy dicks that night.
You recounted the story to Russell over a couple more drinks. Your conversation was lighter then, filled with laughter and a warm, companiable feeling. He was still rather evasive about his job, but you supposed he had to be, since it was government contract work.
Private security, mainly. Or so he'd said. This man made you infinitely curious, and a bit apprehensive, if you were honest.
And yet, at some point while you two shared and laughed and split a hot sandwich with another round of beers, you realized it.
I like this, you thought. And I like him.
However, the night had to come to an end sometime. Your third involuntary yawn told Russell it was time to call it.
"I'm okay," you tried.
"Nah, you've gotta work tomorrow," he said. He signaled to the bartender. "Let me go ahead and close out my tab."
“Oh, I can pay for half,” you said, reaching for your purse now hanging from your hip.
“You kidding me? Put that away,” he said, guiding your hand with your wallet aside.
Smiling, you accepted his generosity with a small thank you. Then, you let him take up your sore hand again, just to carefully press the half-melted bag of ice over it.
“Feelin’ better?” he asked.
Your smile became softer. “Yeah.”
You had no doubt that this man, tall as he was, with his broad shoulders and the controlled way he carried himself, could’ve laid both of those drunken assholes onto their asses. His intimidating gaze had promised as much.
But his hands were gentle for you.
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“I was about to win that game, no contest!” you said, laughing as you and Russell headed out of the bar and into the parking lot.
“Hey, hey, I still had time to win it back,” he argued. “I only had three more balls to go. I could’ve sunk that with my eyes closed.”
“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”
Russell snorted. “You think you’re funny, huh?”
“Hey, you laughed!” you said, pointing at him.
He shook his head, despite his amusement. He slowed to a stop in front of his car.
“Where’d you park, huh?” he asked.
“Over there,” you said, pointing several parking spaces down. Your eyes were drawn to his car, however. “Wow. This is your car?”
Russell grinned and patted the top of his black Chevy.
“Aw, yeah. That’s my baby,” he said. “She’s a Chevelle, 1967.”
You didn’t know much about cars, but you could see this was a classic beauty. You passed a hand over its sleek paint job without touching, so you didn't get any fingerprints on it. Though you quirked a smile over your shoulder at him.
“She?” you intoned.
“That’s right. She,” he confirmed.
You smirked and crossed your arms. You paused in front of the passenger door, and when Russell drew in closer, you had to crane your neck up to meet his warm gaze.
“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.
You tilted your head, your own eyes dancing.
“I’m sure you’re brave enough to find out,” you said.
Russell decided he’d take that bet.
He leaned in slowly. He made a show of hesitating, raising a brow, as if waiting for a blow. You were tempted to laugh.
But then he let loose a true smile, and he bowed his head to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fell shut, and your hands moved to flatten against his chest. A firm fucking wall. Jesus.
He circled his arms around your waist, bringing you in closer. Your fingers wound up in his hair, while he tilted his head to kiss you again. You met him with the same fervor with each new kiss, and the feel of your body, soft and pliant under his hands, each little sweet sound that you made, it all drove him to delve in deeper.
You moaned into his mouth at the first warm swipe of his tongue against yours. He tasted like the burn of good whiskey.
You pressed yourself flush against him on instinct. He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car. His hand tangled into your hair, gripping, then easing through the soft strands.
Russell veered away from your soft mouth after a while, just to burn a line of warm, wet kisses along your jaw, and down your neck with the added rasp of his beard.
His lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. He kissed and sucked at your skin, even grazing with his teeth. You gasped softly in his ear, shuddering against him. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his strong back out of a need to feel him.
His hands were heavy along the curve of your waist then, squeezing your hips. It all felt incredibly right. And by right, you meant body tingling, warmth churning in your lower belly, and wetness growing between your legs, for sure dampening your panties.
You tugged him back by his hair, so you could reach him for another steamy kiss.
“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.
You paused against his lips, parting from him softly.
“Or not," he added. "Just thought I’d mention.” 
You giggled, catching your breath, and then smoothing your hands down his chest. The faint throb of your core was telling you one thing, but the warning signals of your more cautious mind were telling you another. You thought for a moment…but then you sighed. 
“How long are you really in town?” you asked.
His wet lips tugged to one corner, ruefully. “A few more days, probably.”
“Right,” you said with a frown. “Russell, I like you. I actually, I really do. If you were sticking around for a while, it’d be one thing. But you’re my best friend’s brother, and I—”
“No, I get it. I can’t predict when I’m gonna be able to swing back into town, and you’ve gotta live your life,” he said, but not without care. He curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. 
Your heart tugged, almost painfully.
“You’re a good guy, Russell Shaw,” you breathed. “Why can’t you be a good guy who’s staying?”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. Then he cringed, knowing how you felt about sweethearting men. “Ah, sorry—” 
You smiled and covered his mouth with your fingers. 
“It’s okay. You have permission to sweetheart me.” 
After blinking his surprise away, his face eased into a grin.
“Then I’ll wear that badge with honor,” he said. 
Your shoulders shook with laughter when you let your forehead fall against his chest.
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Russell remained what he had been throughout the entire night: a gentleman, who accompanied you over to your car.
After another stolen kiss or two in front of your sedan, you parted ways from him with a bit of a heavy heart. You wondered if you made the right decision, or if you should’ve just gone for it for once, instead of second-guessing yourself like usual.
You did know this. The rumble of his Chevelle driving down the opposite road would be imprinted on your memory.
When you returned home, you realized that the house was empty, and in complete darkness.
Charlie still wasn’t home.
Worried, you flicked on the lights and began to text his cell, only to find a note for you on the kitchen counter.
And it worried you even more.
I’m sorry. I’m going to make it right. 
— C.
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AN: 😬 Well then! lol We're diving straight into the drama and feels on this one. What did you think of her "barely a date" with Russell? 😂
And where do you think we're going next with Charlie?
Next Time:
Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.
“You should call the police,” she advised.
You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.
You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.
“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:
“Colter, the tracker.”
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Rambles because I’m just thinking about introducing some of them to your family.
It started with Jason. Because look, this guy in my canon is RICH. He’s your boyfriend but he’s also your sugar daddy and it becomes obvious when you start wearing much nicer clothing and bringing home expensive gifts and eventually you’ll show up to your parent's house wearing a custom made outfit and they’re gonna have questions. So, you pull up with Jason one day when it’s time to introduce him, and he’s wearing what is obviously luxury clothing. He tried to tone it down, but it’s still obviously very luxurious, and his long ass hair is exquisitely done and he probably looks like he could be royalty, and your family is probably expecting him to be snooty and a bit arrogant, but he’s SO NICE?? Jason tries SOOO desperately hard to get your family to like him, so he is on his 100% best behavior possible. He helps set the table, he helps clean up after dinner, he takes an interest in everything your family says, and he’s sociable and sweet (not that he’s not normally like that around you) but it’s a bit of a shock. Needless to say, he makes a fantastic impression.
But then there’s someone like Jeff. He asks you if he should try and hide his scars, but you tell him not to. You’ve explained to your family that he was in a horrible accident and his body has suffered some bad scarring, but they don’t necessarily expect him to show up with a smile cut up on his face and burn scars across his whole body, along with other scars obtained from the job. He’s obviously a nervous wreck, he even tried to dress up, but his speech is pretty rugged and he’s obviously kind of rowdy and anxious, but that comes off as very down to earth. While your family was a bit nervous at first with his size and clumsiness and the concern about his scars, it’s very clear that he cherishes you so much, especially considering he goes out of his way to make sure you’re comfortable all night. He helps clean up, he even offers to grab everyone drinks throughout the night even though it’s not his house every time he gets one for himself, and once he settles down he starts cracking jokes and making everyone laugh. Despite starting off rough, another successful pass.
And then you have a guy like Tim. Well put together, nicely groomed, and well dressed, AND he shows up with a freshly baked pie. He’s sweet to your family, he offers to help with dinner, and he makes great conversation. Tim is an absolute gentleman and incredibly homey, and he gives off a very charming impression. God forbid you have a relative that loves fishing because my Tim is obsessed with fishing and he will sit there talking about different fish and rods and tackle and fishing spots for literal hours, and he’ll pull out his phone and show off all his photos of fish he’s caught. His fresh baked pie is absolutely loved and he even gives out the recipe and offers to leave them with other recipes as well. He’s well spoken and respectful, and Tim would literally pass any situation with flying colors when you’re introducing him to anyone. He promises that when next he visits he'll bring some fresh caught fish and make a fish fry for everyone to enjoy so they don't have to cook anything, and perhaps another freshly baked dessert.
Then we have dear sweet Toby. He’s an absolute nervous wreck. He’s worried about his Tourette’s bothering someone, he’s worried about saying something stupid, he’s worried that everyone will hate him and that they’ll demand you break up with him, and despite you reassuring him that would not happen, he’s anxious. He puts on his nicest shirt and some new pants, he brings flowers, and he hopes to God that everything will go well. Luckily, it does. The flowers are well received, and with how sweet and respectful he’s clearly trying to be, he’s welcomed in kindly. None of his tics or stuttering bothers anyone, and everyone treats him well, so he starts to relax. His more boyish side comes out, and his excitement is very endearing, and with him constantly asking if he can help out in any way, it’s obvious he cares about making a good impression and being there for you and your family. Yeah, he might have accidentally knocked a few things over and dropped some stuff on accident, but he's quick to clean stuff up and he always apologizes and makes well, and nobody really minds. He’s got a smile on his face pretty much the whole night, and before he knows it they’re already inviting him back again, and Toby didn’t know it could possibly feel this good to be accepted by your family.
Finally, I’m pulling in Slender. Obviously, he goes in his human form, and he goes by a human name, but the guy is classy. He’s very refined, wearing a freshly ironed and well put together business casual outfit. He brings gifts and is gentlemanly right off the bat. Slender is refined and graceful, and he commands the room in a very subtle way, making sure to be kind and not intrude on anything, but also making it quite obvious he’d like to get to know everyone. He makes intelligent conversation and offers assistance, complimenting your family on their home and any food he’s provided. It’s hard not to be charmed by him, with how knowledgeable and alluring he is, and the entire night goes off without a hitch. He asks your family what kinds of things they like, and promises to bring more gifts the next time he visits. He probably discusses things like books, maybe even shows or movies, and says he’ll look into anything recommended to him, and he does, and he also promises to send you home with anything he’s recommended to them as well. He comes off very well, his hundreds of years of age making him appear as what we’d call an old soul, and your family will probably ask you how you found someone like him in the first place.
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deathbxnny · 2 days
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Yanqing and teen!reader being a menace duo and takes the lyric from "Paris" 'if we go down, we go down together' a little too seriously. And JingYuan isn't sure if he should be glad they get along so well or regret the fact he introduced them
I absolutely love this idea, so thank you for the request Anon and I hope you'll like this!!<33
Content: Mostly platonic but with romantic undertones?, fluff, a bit of crack, Jing Yuan is over it, teen reader, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns!!
((Not proofread))
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Jing Yuan regretted ever introducing you two to eachother, mainly because you immideatley not only clicked, but also made it your personal mission to get into as much trouble as you physically can. Always on "accident" as you claimed, ofcourse. For a while, he even wondered if he should just "undo" his mistake, but giving up was eventually the less tiring choice for the older man.
You and Yanqing were the best of friends from day one too, never, ever seperating for too long. It felt wrong and unnerving when you did, which made you into a perfect fighting duo under your masters orders. If he couldn't keep you apart, then he might as well train you two to become perfect half of the other.
With that said, any trouble you encountered was faced with two menacing teens who often had a hard time understanding when to stop and just run. You encouraged eachother to do better, to become stronger and even braver... but that also came with an air of arrogance. No one could beat you two when you were together. Or well, that's what you claimed. The many times you hobbled half-injured into Jing Yuan's office said otherwise.
Since you spend every day together, you often use your downtime to go to the swordmarket or just hang around Yanqing's home, if the weather wasn't all too nice that day. You read boring lecture books together, often mocking the generals voice, who often was the one who forced you to read them in the first place. (He definitely caught you once and was not amused...)
You also absolutely love to prank the general and Fu Xuan, even if it ends you both in alot of trouble. There is something about getting back at all those "strict" adults as you run away hand-in-hand, cackling in the warm evening sun together that makes it all so worth it.
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Sorry this took so long, Anon... unfortunately, the end of year exams are coming up, and I'm STRESSED, lol, but anyways, thank you for the cute request, and I hope you liked this!!<33
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lutawolf · 2 days
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“My Stand In” Episode 7 opinion and commentary.
esinegerp asked:
Lovely Luta, I just got caught up on My Stand In … I do love some tortured tears from a toxic boy who is now learning a painful lesson.  Please bless me with some commentary on the latest episode.
So here I am!
I would like to start by emphasizing that Ming is not a good person. Now, that doesn't imply a lack of affection towards him. I am merely highlighting the obvious to ensure that everyone is aware that I am not blind to his shortcomings. He exhibits sporadic instances of kindness; however, please note that this does not make him a considerate individual. He is not a nice person, but a person who can be kind.
This makes him an almost villainous love interest, which I appreciate. I genuinely appreciate that he is not our typical main lead. He is a selfish asshole, who does what he wants without regard to feelings. Unless he cares about you, which is rare. There are few who can get past his trust issues for him to care. Which is why he is in the conundrum that he is in. He doesn't trust people and likes even fewer. Ming’s instincts are telling him to trust Joe, but his typical distrust is getting in the way. 
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Let's start this episode off by discussing the agreement between Joe and Ming. Ming is required to buy Joe's mother a house and pay her medical expenses. Does that include a housekeeper/caretaker? Cause that is who Joe and his mother are greeted by when they arrive at the new home. Is that stipulated in the agreement? I have my doubts, yet here she is. Allow me to explain. It could be inferred that Joe is responsible for obtaining her. However, it is worth noting that he is not the same Joe who possessed some wealth. And he likely expended the majority of the funds he had earned on the initial hospital payment that he had to make prior to Ming's arrival.
Now to the next scene. That kindness and assholishness is being shown right off the bat because Ming immediately.  The question, “Have you eaten?” is the kindness. But then, knowing his character, you can imagine that he is asking why he cares while he is nodding in reply to Joe. Which is why he so rudely throws the towel and tells him to take a shower.
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I want you to look at the body language and expressions here. One conveys dissatisfaction, whereas the other expresses regret. When I say that Ming is so confused, this right here shows it. He feels immediate regret for hurting Joe, but he doesn't know why. This further agitates him. That's the thing to not forget, he can feel Joe in there, but his brain is telling him it's not true. Wouldn't you second guess yourself on that, too? Plus, he's being told that Joe is alive. So here he is in a pull and push game. Pulling him near because he can feel Joe in there but pushing him away because Joe is alive and this can't possibly be his Joe. Ming is going batshit crazy inside himself, and to be fair, he wasn't exactly sane to begin with.
That robe keeps taking me out of the scene. That is the tackiest wardrobe pick.
Oh, this scene kills me, but I think it expresses what I've been trying to say. Both of them are going through hell, but we tend to sympathize with Joe because he's not an asshole, and we know what happened. We also get to see his perspective, whereas we are left piecing it together with Ming.
Ming is an asshole, but the boy has been alone for two years, wallowing in guilt. He is clearly lonely and touched starved. Before, he was affectionate to the people he cared about, but now we've observed that he's really kept the people at arms length now. Not nearly as handsy with Tong as previous. He might not know to hate or blame Tong yet, but he knows that he was a source of discomfort for his Joe. He's living out the ideology that his Joe will come back, so he is trying to set everything in place for that. Furthermore, he is now in showbiz when he never wanted to be before. He is doing that so wherever Joe is, he'll eventually see him and recognize him. He does the watch commercial featuring the watch his Joe got him, just in case Joe might see it from wherever he is and know that Ming is waiting.
Everything Ming has shown thus far is that he truly believes that Joe is alive and will eventually come back to him. So why is he pulling this Joe close when it goes against what he believes? He doesn't have the answer to that either.
Ming is clearly disappointed to be waking to an empty bed.
Let us revisit the agreement once more as we watch Ming watch Joe make breakfast. Currently, Joe is intended to serve as a substitute boyfriend for a duration of one year. There is no mention of making breakfast in the agreement I heard. Yet here is Joe, making Ming breakfast. Until told otherwise, I'm working under the assumption that Joe felt the need to make Ming breakfast. If so, that speaks volumes, now, doesn't it?
Ming tells Joe to hurry back, that he'll wait for him. There is almost a softening to him here. All the flashbacks getting to him, or does he feel Joe more at this moment?
Sol makes Joe a main character. Does Sol finally feel Joe, or is he just finally moving on and he has a type? I would like to remind everyone that Ming immediately felt Joe, while Sol didn't. So right now I'm working under the assumption that Sol is moving on, and he has a type. Which isn't a bad thing, in the real world we would want someone to move on and find happiness.
Oh, no! Sol recognized his back!
Joe is trying to put that distance up. Is it for himself? Or is it for Ming? Both maybe? He can't possibly miss that he is basically reliving his past at this point.
Shit, suspicious Sol. Joe, you are a terrible liar, and you are also suspicious. “Even in death, misfortune still finds him.”
Sol is now asking himself, how you knew Joe had misfortune in life.
Allow me to point out that Joe is polite to Ming, but not to Sol. When he answered his phone, he didn't say, “Please excuse me.” As he does with Ming.
Sol taking the phone from Joe… That was strictly to antagonize Ming, who he holds responsible for Joe's death. He is seeing the past repeat itself as well. Sol is taking this all in.
The way Joe so quickly takes the phone away to make the conversation private. Barely puts up an argument. Now we could say this is due to Ming paying for his mother and that would be true. However, Joe could at least be a little bit of an asshole, but not once is he. He put a little argument in there, but quickly caved and stayed respectful the whole time. He is trying to put distance by using Mr. Ming, but it isn't working well.
Ahh, look at Joe puzzling it out. “A new life… but why do I feel like everything... Is going back the way it was?”
I love Wut and their friendship.
Hahahahahahahah! Serves the dick right for not being recognized. I can only imagine this is the friend that mom doesn't like. I love Joe's witty remarks back. It appears that both men, named Joe, don't have great taste in men, but at least Ming loves Joe. If he had known it was him laying in the hospital, he would have been there every day. Tharn doesn't give one shit about Joe.
Mom and Joe's relationship is everything. He is really soaking up the motherly love he'd missed out on. Aww… She's so cute. She's just happy to have her son back, but she still feels the need to protect him. I get that on cellular level. Until you are a parent yourself to an older child, you don't realize how hard parenting is. This is when you start desperately looking around for an instruction book, and then you realize there isn't one. Even me with my counseling knowledge am clueless and have messed up, but I try. I tell my kids, I'm giving this parenting thing my all, but ultimately, they'll still have to see a therapist for something I did.
I love, love, the empathy of Joe. He feels so bad for the Joe2 that there are tears in his eyes. He feels for his new mom and the pain of what Joe2 went through.
“Right now, the only person I love is sitting right here with me.” I'm not crying, you're crying. He really is such a lovely human being.
Ming questing Joe about the accident and if he dreamed of anyone. He knows the two men are connected, but he isn't sure how.
Joe packing for Ming. Is that part of the agreement? Is Joe just Ming's to be ordered any way he wants. Let's say that's true, Joe could still push back, but he doesn't. Just because of the situation with his mother doesn't mean he couldn't at least give attitude, but he quickly agrees.
What do you mean, Luta…? Just look at this scene. He sees the watch and he is taken back. Ming comes in and tells him to go away, but Joe puts up a fuss. He might have still left, but he initially gave attitude at being told to leave and not finish packing. Are you guys picking up on that?
Now look. Joe expresses his feelings and opinion on sleeping with the crew and Ming, while not happy about it, doesn't argue. Are you guys catching what I'm saying? Ming is most definitely the Dominant one in this relationship; however, Joe isn't an unwilling submissive. He isn't just going along with things because he has to.
Haha! Face it, Tong, you just aren't as important as you once were. Sorry, not sorry, Joe is more significant. Tong's shock at Ming just getting up and leaving him is lovely. Oh, how I hate Tong.
Everybody is hating Ming, and I'm over here hating Tong. We are not the same.
Jealous, jealous, boy. Look at Ming being his usual jelly self. He wants to know who that boy was.
See! See Joe standing up for himself and what he wants. Their agreement doesn't mean that Ming owns Joe, and Joe doesn't have say. Which means Joe is doing things for Ming of his own free will.
Dude, how has Joe not gotten caught yet!
Lonely, Ming doesn't know how to say he is lonely.
I adore how rude Joe is being to Tharn. Have I mentioned that I hate Tharn?
Um... How does such a short ass boy overpower such a muscular man. I mean it can happen but not in this way. This scene really wasn't executed well.
Okay, so now they're fighting, but it's like Joe really gets Ming. He knows Ming's jealousy now, so he is trying to come in with calmness and sense. Unlike previously, but Ming triggers him. Because Tong is Joe's trigger. He triggers Ming with his words, and it does trigger Ming. Because he knows this is something his Joe would have felt. Ming does what he has always done when triggered with unfamiliar emotions he can't understand, which is to angrily lash out and say the most hateful things. “I bought you so you could wag your tail for me. Not bite me like this.” But in that hate is a confession. Ming is saying that those words hurt him. He is being more communicative than he typically is with anyone, even previous Joe.
Joe is pissed off for not being heard and then being dismissed as a sex toy. He is spewing anger. He is pissed off, but he never once fights Ming. Now in real life this wouldn't fly, and active participation is required to have consent. However, we aren't talking about real life but art and with that, we have to read between the lines.
At one point, Joe clutches Ming's arm. Clutching, not pushing him away. Remember, we've seen what Joe looks like when he doesn't want to have sex. Just previously, he was fighting Tharn. We aren't seeing that here. Now his face says he isn't happy, but this feels more like angry fucked up sex to me. And yes, that is a thing.
And here comes Tong, to add his annoying voice to the mix and not letting us see how they would resolve their anger.
Joe is pissed off that Tong is interrupting. Look, play back the scene. We can see Joe is not happy, and he is grappling with his feelings in the midst of this fucked up sex session, but the minute we hear Tong's voice, there is pain and sorrow. Then when Ming stops and answers the door, and says it's nothing. His anger snaps, but his negative feelings towards Ming are nothing compared to his rage at Tong. I repeated this scene five times and yeah, that is what I saw each time. Notice, though, as he says excuse me, he does not look at Tong as he is leaving. He is forcibly not looking at Tong.
That little smile of self deprecation on Ming's lips and the way he shoves away from the door.
OMG, but I love that Joe throws Tharn out. Just loses his shit and tosses him out in the hallway.
You mean you would like him to hang all over you again, Tong. Look at how Ming is putting up that wall and distance. Finally! Give it to Tong, Ming!
Oh, these two broken men.
“Make me a coffee, too.” And Joe does, no questions. There is hesitation, some grappling with his feelings. Yet, he makes Ming coffee and with care too, the way he knows he likes. Remember, we've established this isn't a part of the agreement, so he doesn't have to. He could have said, no, make it yourself and walked away. Instead, he makes it and then walks away. He made a point with that polite excuse me and walk away.
So Tong took the credit and didn't let Joe have it last time. That explains why Ming was such an idiot about not knowing, that of course, that was Joe's back. It wasn't just Tong saying he did it, he actually took credit for it in on the show credits. Have I mentioned that I hate Tong?
Now Ming knows. Let the devastation begin.
The way that everyone just watches Ming have a mental breakdown. Are they used to it now? And the way Joe just stood there and listened. He ate that shit up, but the boy has such low self-esteem that I'm sure later he'll make an excuse for this.
Ahhh, I need the next episode now.
Well, that's the end of my commentary. I hope you enjoyed it!
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Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 99... You have been warned...! 👌
[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]
*Ahem...*
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! THIS CHAPTER!!!! 😱 AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
S-Sorry about that folks, but uh... There is A WHOLE LOT to talk about with this chapter, so uh, let's into it shall we...?! 😵 [Aggressive Thumb SHAKING] ((👍))
So, to start things off... What happened at the end of chapter 98 was apparently just a false alarm, but it still managed to end the the graduation party after everyone ran to the bunkers... So, Henry asked Martha about what she was going to tell him, and well...:
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...She decided not to tell him the truth... 🥲
After this, Martha is seen crying her eyes out at her home...!! 😭 But after receiving a letter in the mail, she has a wonderful idea to write letters to Henry while she's away...!! 🥹
The first thing she writes to him is to see her off before she departs, but because the letter contained her exact location, these assholes "lovely gentleman" had to black out almost EVERYTHING MARTHA WROTE!! 😫 Which meant...:
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...Henry didn't show up... 🥲🥲
(Why Endo...? Just, WHY....?! 💔)
But even after that mishap, Martha would continue to write to Henry, and he even wrote back to her...! 🥹 But eventually...:
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Aw man... This image is just... It breaks my heart, man... 😔
Soon after that, Henry started to yearn to hear from Martha once again... But then, Martha and the rest of her group got some unexpected news...:
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AND THE WORST PART IS THAT THEY CAN'T ACTUALLY DECLINE TO JOIN THE FRONT LINES BECAUSE THEY WOULD BE LABELED AS DESERTERS AND KILLED!!! 😡 (SUCH FUCKING BULLSHIT!!! FUCK WAR!!! 😠😠😠)
While the girls are panicking, Martha steps up and says that she'll fight...:
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...And now Herny knows about it... 😞
Y'know... This chapter already had some crazy stuff in it... But nothing, AND I MEAN NOTHING, could've prepared me for THE VERY NEXT PAGE...!!!:
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MOTHERFUCKING YOUNG DONOVAN DESMOND!!! 😵😵😵
AND BOY, LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHIN'...! When I read what he said at bottom, that "Human beings are simply liars"... The first thing that came to my mind was...:
...HE HAS TO BE A FREAKING TELEPATH JUST LIKE ANYA!!! 😱
I MEAN, it's the only thing that makes sense, why else WOULD HE SAY THAT...!?!? 😵 He also could've been raised that way by his parents, BUT I DON'T KNOW ABOUT THAT ONE CHIEF!!!!
My goodness... THIS PAGE HAS GOT ME LOOKIN' AND ACTIN' LIKE THIS:
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Anyway, Young Donovan continues to speak about how as long as everyone hides their true intentions from each other, war can never truly end... And I just... I can't accept that...!!
Call me a dreamer, but I believe that we as people can make a difference if we speak up & fight back against ideals like Donovan's...!! I know that there is awfulness all around us and not everyone is in it for the betterment of others... BUT THAT'S WHY WE HAVE TO FIGHT BACK; THAT'S WHY TWILIGHT, YOR, ANYA, AND OTHERS IN THIS SERIES ARE FIGHTING FOR PEACE!!! So that we all can have a better tomorrow...!!! ✊
Anyway, back to chapter... And boy, it does not get better for Henry and Martha... 😔
After Martha writes a letter a telling Henry that she wishes that she could see him, it brings him tears and the only thing that he could muster to think of saying to her is "I wish I could see you too"... 💔 Then when going to mail another letter to Martha, Henry over hears on the radio...:
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THIS PAGE IS JUST SO HEARTBREAKING!!! 💔
Later at an assembly, Martha's group was brought up as valiant for giving their lives for the cause, but Henry was having none of it:
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...and then, they beat him up an locked him away...!! 😠 Then Henry's dad shows up and tells him that if he keeps this up, he'll never teach in another classroom again... And of course, Henry folds... 💔 AND I THINK THAT HENRY'S DAD NEEDS TO GET PUNCHED IN THE FACE!!! 😡
Time passes, Henry has a his famous monoclonal now (most likely due to be badly injured in his eye when those bastards beat him up) and is forced to marry someone for his family... Then, it cuts to place near the East-West border and...:
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Martha's still alive, obviously, but WHO TOOK HER IN AND SAVED HER!?!? 🤔
Could it be someone from the Blackbell's, someone related to Twilight, Shopkeeper or McMahon...? I DON'T KNOW...!! But, we'll have wait and find out in CHAPTER 100 BABY!!! 😆
And that was Mission 99, and it was FANTASTIC AND HEARTBREAKING ALL AT THE SAME TIME!!! 💔🥲💔 This why we LET 👏 ENDO 👏 COOK!!! 👏👏👏
But anyway, before I go....
SEASON 3 OF SPY × FAMILY WAS ANNOUNCED BABY!!! 😆
I am SOOOOOO EXCITED for this!! 😄 But when it releases, I'm not sure if I'll continue to do reviews of the episodes as they come out... Near the end of season 2, I got quite a bit burnt out from writing my anime reviews, so I never talked about the last 3 episodes of season 2... 😩 But, we'll see how I feel by the time when the anime returns...!! 😁
Okay, that's it now...!! 😄 So until the next Mission; take care, be safe out there and be kind to one another...!! BYE!!! 👋😁
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heavenlyraindrops · 2 days
Text
♱Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~Chapter Twenty Four♱
Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Chapter Twenty Four Warnings: profanity, Visit my pinned post to see all other chapters.
♱ In which the purest soul in Heaven falls from grace… for the Devil. ♱
[Chapter Twenty Four]
You dove into the red sky, wind tearing past your face as your eyes scoured the city skyline for the telltale silhouette of the Hotel, which Velvette had described to you- Velvette who was now clinging to your back.
“You’re quite light,” you said, raising your voice above the powerful beats of your voice. 
“Oh, shut up and fly,” Velvette scoffed into your ear, breath and body emanating heat. A few moments of silence, then: “There!”
Her arm shot out to point at the building looming up on your right. You were about to go there anyways- you could see the massive battle occurring from miles away, black tentacles lashing against electric blue sparks. You swerved and Velvette yelped, her grip on you tightening. 
Your feet hit the ground and Velvette slid off, tensing as you both assessed the situation. You dove to the ground, knocking her down with you as a black tentacle lashed out. 
“Fuck,” you cursed, crawling to safety. She followed suit and you twisted round. “I’ll drag Vox out and you direct the backup while I try and calm Alastor from his little…” you glanced around. “…Tantrum. Okay?”
Velvette rolled her eyes but nodded, standing up and dusting herself off. You dove back into the fray, rising up with your wings spread. Forcing through the weaving threats of blue electricity you grabbed Vox’s shoulders.
“Goddamnit, Vox!” You yelled. He turned around. There were angry, digital tears streaming down his face. “Get the fuck out of here!”
There was a hole ripped in his shoulder. Electric wires and blood seeped from the wound. “I-“
“You’re fucking losing!” You pointed at Alastor, who’d slowly begun to shrink back at normal size upon seeing you. “Get over your crush and get out of here!”
“I don’t-“ 
And conveniently, he short circuited.
You groaned, tossing his jerking body to Velvette who cradled it in her arms, punching in the digits of what you assumed was the backup- which you had called prior, but seemed to be running late- into her phone. 
You whipped around, body tensed, turning your attention to Alastor. Now, surely he’d go back to normal, you were both acquainted, you could have a civil conversation-
A tentacle wrapped around your waist, crushing the breath out of you. 
Inside the hotel, Lucifer pressed his hands to the glass on the window. Charlie stood next to him, watching the scene with wide eyes. “Do you think we should intervene?” She asked nervously.
“No, it’s-“ his breath caught as you appeared on the scene. “[name] seems to be, uh,” he cleared his throat. “Dealing with it, apparently.”
Charlie’s shoulders sagged in relief as Alastor shrunk down slightly. 
“Wait, fuck, why is he- why the fuck is he provoking her?” Lucifer spat, nails dragging down the glass. 
Outside, still in the crushing grip of Alastor’s shadow tentacle, you let out a piercing scream of anger and frustration. 
Alastor’s eyes narrowed, smile widening until his face split into two. Yes, this was perfect- he’d simply have to rile you up, just a little, and you’d eventually burst. 
You dug your nails into the coiled appendage which constricted your ribs, twisting and turning as you tried to worm your way out of its grip. “Alastor, if you don’t let go of me right now-“
He raised you to his face, eyes sparking. “Tell me, [name], how does it feel to be exiled from your own home?”
“What?” You blinked, caught off guard. 
He trailed a claw along the side of your cheek. “You have no one now. Lost, abandoned, forced to unite with the Vees of all people as a last resort.” A laugh rumbled deep in his throat. “It seems as though you’ve hit rock bottom.”
Yes, rile her up. 
You stared at him, heart pounding, bile rising.  
“What do you know,” you managed to utter. He grinned. 
“I don’t need to know, I can see. Anyone can see.”
Lucifer was prepared to slam his head into the glass. “What the fuck is he doing.”
Charlie shuddered. “Dad…”
“I knew it, Apple Pie. I told you.” He thrust his hand at the scene unfolding in front of them. “He lied, he’s doing this on purpose. Why else would he say that to [name]?” Fire burned in his gut, licking its way up his throat. How dare Alastor even lay a single finger on you, let alone talk to you about-
“Come on!” Charlie raced out, flinging the door in her wake. Lucifer stared after her, then followed suit. 
“Do you get it?” Alastor murmured to you. His eyes held pity. It was nauseating. Something burned hot beneath your skin. Your body jerked. “Why even try? There isn’t anything left for you now.” 
Your skin pulled away to reveal eyes.
Charlie put her hand on Lucifer's arm. Vaggie stumbled out. “Dad… Vaggie…” 
Alastor hissed as the tentacle sizzled, falling away in burning golden dust as you jerked back again, wings growing, body separating from what was normal; you could see. Everywhere. You could see. Your hair whipped around your head, halo extending past the horns that sprouted from your head.
Horns?
Your angelic form didn’t have horns-
Oh.
You opened your mouth in a soundless scream, lashing out with your hands. The eyes on your skin and wings pulsed. Alastor shot back, snapping to normal size as he slammed into the Hotel’s wall, which crumbled a little.
He groaned, and stirred, but didn’t move past that. Blood dripped down his chin.
“Alastor!” Charlie gasped, stumbling towards him. Vaggie grabbed her wrist and pulled her back, shaking her head. 
“What did you…” you gasped. The eyes pulsed harder, burning on your skin. Your halo was made of fire. It singed your hair. You tried to pull away from yourself. They were burning- your eyes were burning.  
They were red. 
They weren’t supposed to be red. They aren’t supposed to be red. You thrashed around, another piercing scream ripping from your throat, this time one of fear. It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it-
They all opened at once, settling crazedly at Charlie and Lucifer and Vaggie, all of who were staring at you in shock. Your heart wrenched. 
Don’t look at me.
You wanted more than nothing than to crawl into your own skin and never come out again. 
I’m a monster. 
“What’s wrong with her?” Charlie gasped, her voice coming out as a quiet murmur. Vaggie intertwined their arms. 
“I don’t know,’ she replied, voice shaking.
“She’s not used to it,” Lucifer said sharply, pushing past them. “The demon form, it’s hurting-“
He didn’t finish his sentence before suddenly unfurling his wings and thrusting himself at you. 
“No!” You screamed, flinching away, pulling your hands up to hide your face. Lucifer hissed and you lowered them, trembling, as blood seeped from a gash on his cheek. 
You flew back, voice quivering. “Don’t come near me,” you hissed. But he did anyways, grabbing your wrist. A sob tore from your throat as you tried to wrench your arm away, kicking out with your legs, but his grip simply tightened as his other hand grabbed your waist and his tail coiled around your legs, restricting your movements as you both plummeted to the ground. 
Pain bloomed in between your shoulder blades and the back of your skull as your head hit the ground, and Lucifer hissed too, grabbing you to try and reduce the impact of the fall, despite the fact he was affected too. 
You lay trembling on the ground, as Lucifer pinned you there, knee in between your legs and hands gripping your wrists as his wings shielded both of you. You were sobbing freely now, the fire sizzling in your veins slowly ebbing away, your burning eyes closing and disappearing one by one. Reality, solid being gripped your body. The world spun. 
Velvette stepped towards the huddle of wings and feathers, but Vaggie darted out, jerking her spear at the doll. “Away,” she growled. Hurt twisted across Velvette’s face, but she scowled, quickly replacing it with hostility as she grabbed Vox’s limp body.
“Fine,” she spat, dragging him over as a car with the Vees’s logo pulled up. She tossed him into the back seat, clambering in after him, shooting you one last concerned look and Vaggie a hateful one as the vehicle rolled off. 
You were still shaking as tears slipped from your eyes, hyperventilating. “L-lucifer, I…” your words were so slurred and broken you had to stop, whimpers still escaping from your throat. “I’m sorry,” you sobbed. Your vision was too blurry to see his face properly. 
He pressed his forehead to your shoulder, your cheek wet with tears next to his, and let out a small sigh. You started crying even harder. “Lucifer please, I'm really sorry. I swear.” Your crying had grown almost hysterical. 
“Hush,” he murmured, and his wings rustled above you. “You’re safe now, darling.” His lips moved against your cheek. “You’re with me now.”
You were still gasping for air, and he let out another slow, long sigh, stroking your hair until you calmed down enough to speak. 
“Y-you must- you must hate me now,” you choked out. He let out a small, half-hearted chuckle, shaking his head softly.
“I don’t hate you, darling.” He closed his eyes. Your sobs faded to quiet hiccups as your breathing slowed. “I… I love you.”
Your heart almost tore in two. Your eyes welled up again. “R-really?”
He pressed his lips to your forehead. “Really.”
You dissolved into another fit of sobs, flinging your arms around his neck and pulling him down flush against you to bury your head in his shoulder. “Oh my god, oh my god Lucifer I’m so sorry.” Your entire body shook.
“You don’t need to be,” he reassured you, as you dug your hands into his back. 
“I love you too,” you cried. 
He smiled softly, letting out a soft breath. It skimmed your cheek, and you relaxed, body unwinding its tensed state. You didn’t know how long you both lay there, heartbeats and breaths syncing together, until exhaustion caught up to you, dragging you down to the depths of sleep. 
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ghettogirly · 21 hours
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[🕷️] 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒!
authors note: please reblog and like so others can see! Hope you enjoy!!
[🕷️] 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄:
🕷️ - He would be very keen on spending time together one on one especially during his time in the cartel where it’s unknown if there will be another tomorrow.
🕷️- I think he would love staying inside his villa with you and enjoying a nice home meal while watching a movie.
🕷️- He would love giving you self defence lessons and training you in the gym, especially since that’s his element. This man would have a whole training and diet plan already made for you.
🕷️- Armando would try take you out every now and then, maybe to go shopping or for a nice dinner just to give you a feeling of a relatively normal life. He wouldn’t do this often though, probably only doing this for anniversaries as he wouldn’t want to place you in any danger.
🕷️- He would enjoy coming back home after some business he had to handle whether that was securing a deal or carrying out an execution, to see you sleeping in your shared bed. This would give him a sense of security and also spend some quality time of sleeping together.
[🕷️] 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇:
🕷️- He would not be someone to do public display of affection. The thought of someone seeing him be vulnerable with you would probably cause trouble.
🕷️- The only display of affection he would do would be longing stares at you if you walk past him, sneaky winks or he would hold your fingertips as you talk to him, making sure to hold eye contact with you.
🕷️- It would be a struggle at first to make him initiate affection as he grew up without parents. An incarcerated mother and a dad he grew up to hate? A whole lot of issues.
🕷️- However, he would eventually warm up to the idea.
🕷️-Behind closed doors, he would love wrapping his arms around you and hugging you as it gives him the satisfaction of protecting you.
🕷️- He would also love giving you slow, passionate kisses. (depending on his mood) The type to make you and him both, longing for more.
🕷️- however if he’s angry, you already know he’s going to be grabbing your face and forcing you into a heated, passionate kiss. His hands exploring your body as he releases his frustrations.
[🕷️] 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:
🕷️- He would openly compliment your superficial things such as your clothes, hair or makeup.
🕷️- However, getting something beneath the surface level for him would be tough.
🕷️- He’s overly critical and cynical of the world, believing evil things happen to everyone and that you never really know someone’s true self.
🕷️- However, his perception quickly changed when he met you.
🕷️- You showed him something different, a breath of fresh air. He loved the way you carried yourself, holding yourself with grace but not hesitant to assert yourself.
🕷️- One day he would say, “I really admire your character baby.”
🕷️- You would look at him in shock, not hearing those words before and quite frankly caught off guard at his sensitive words. Nevertheless you would smile and reply, “I learnt it all from you.”
[🕷️] 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄
🕷️- This wouldn’t really be a big one for him.
🕷️- I believe he would expect you to be able to do things for yourself, he wouldn’t be able to care for you, himself and his cartel as well. He would get frustrated at your lack of ability to be able to care for yourself.
🕷️- However, if you ever get hurt or sick you can bet on it that he’s taking care of you.
🕷️- He wouldn’t let anyone help you, only him.
🕷️- He would change your dressings or help you take your medication. Even bring you soup for your sore throat.
🕷️- He would help clean up around the bedroom and help you do basic tasks again.
🕷️- He has maids for the rest, so what’s the point.
[🕷️] 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆:
🕷️- Armando wouldn’t really get you surprise gifts, he would much prefer to give you money and allow you to buy your own.
🕷️- He would surprise you with an amount of cash and then you can buy what you want.
🕷️- Sometimes he’ll come back with a new necklace for you that has his initials or the name of his cartel, just to let other know that you’re claimed.
🕷️- If it was your birthday, you can bet the whole mansion would be decorated and there would be a private jet awaiting you, ready to take you on a holiday resort.
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bb-blu-love · 1 day
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⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆when the world is asleep⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
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tags: idol!bangchan x reader, established relationship, fluff, slight hurt comfort (really just a couple doing their best in a bad situation), reader has ~anxiety~
3:00 AM in the quiet part of town is your favorite place in the world. On the outskirts of the city, where only families and old folks live and the streets are empty this time of night, you have found what seems like the only place in the world where you and Chan can feel truly at ease.
You’d been waiting for him to come over all day, so when he finally called around ten saying he just left the studio you became giddy with excitement that soon turned into anxiety. It’s not like he had never been to your apartment before or that you felt uncomfortable around him; it’s just that you can never shake the fear that this time is when everything will go wrong. That this is the night you’ll be caught by photographers or fans and soon everyone will know and your relationship will change forever. That your whole life could change forever. These worries echoed in your brain as you went down to the entrance of your building to let Chan in. 
Your nerves were obvious; you didn’t hug him as tightly as you wanted to--trying to maintain the illusion that you could just be friends should anyone see you--and your smile twisted into a grimace as you kept an eye on your surroundings.
The summer night air ruffled the hair that stuck out from his hat “Hey, Baby!” he said with a soft smile “You feeling alright?”
“Yeah, I’m good. I’m glad you could come over tonight,” You shyly smile, still not being able to shake the tight feeling in your stomach. 
He hummed a response and, sensing how on edge you were , looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was around before asking, “Should we go upstairs? I brought ice cream,” and lifted up a convenience store bag in his hand.
After heading up to your apartment the two of you spent hours just talking in your room. You were mostly catching up—you hadn’t seen each other in a couple of days due to your schedules—but eventually, it dissolved into a mess of inside jokes, you showing him all the Tik Toks you’d saved for him, him showing you videos of the boys messing around in dance practice in return, and whatever other nonsense made you both smile. Even though your relationship could be stressful, actually being with Chan was the easiest thing in the world. Honestly, you would be happy staying here forever; cuddled in his arms in the dim light of your bedroom, listening to his laugh get all squeaky as he worked himself up over some dumb video you won’t even remember in the morning. 
What you will remember, however, is how hot you are right now. Turns out your fourth-floor apartment with one broken AC unit could spell quite the sweathouse in the summer—especially with the amount of physical contact you two are prone to after some time apart. Chan had already shed his shirt sometime in between his first and second popsicle, and you had all of your fans on high pointed at your bed where you both laid tangled up with each other.
Chan, after finally calming down from his laughing fit, let out a sigh as he stared up at your ceiling. "You know I love you, right?"
"Yeah, why?" You asked, confused by his sudden declaration.
He continued quickly, "And you know that I really like coming over to your place-"
"Yeahh?"
"-because of the lack of roommates and overall better smell?"
"Also, I have HBO."
"Yes, also that—so will you not take offense if I, hypothetically, say that I’m going to die of heat stroke if I stay in here any longer?" He looked over at you with a rueful smile.
You laughed silently as you looked into his eyes. "I’ll go get my shoes."
He let out a triumphant "Yes!" and pumped his fist into the air as you got off of the bed, satisfied with the result of your banter. As you continued to get ready, he moved to the edge of your bed and was brought back to how anxious you seemed when he first arrived. "We don’t actually have to go out if you don’t want to, though," he said, scratching his arm as a nervous tick. "I know that we both get all paranoid when we’re not in private, and I don’t want to ruin the night or anything."
You turned to face him and put a reassuring hand on his arm, whilst you tried to shove your own concerns to the back of your mind."Don’t worry about it. I was thinking we could go to that one spot—you know, where we went on your birthday?"
"Yeah, that sounds perfect." He said with a relieved smile.
And that’s what brought you here; after checking for paparazzi from your apartment windows, and after you went outside and checked again, ensuring you both had your incognito face masks and baseball caps on. Finally, you were able to make the epic journey two blocks down and one over to a small playground surrounded by some trees and a fence: your safe haven. Taking in the warm night air as the wind lightly blows across your face--gently wicking the sweat on your brow--and hearing the leaves softly rustle as you both sit on the old swing set and let your legs dangle. You did what you loved to do most with each other: you talked.
"I’m sorry it’s always like this," Chan said as he looked at his feet, the toe of his shoes sputtering over the rubbery ground as he swayed, "that we can’t just get together and go to restaurants and the movies or—I don’t know— win you a big teddy bear at a carnival," he laughs half-heartedly, "or whatever regular couples get to do."
You smile sadly. "I’m sorry too. Maybe I’m just being overly cautious." 
He reaches over, grabs your hand, and rubs gentle circles on the back with his thumb, letting you know he isn’t mad and that he doesn’t blame you for anything. 
"I could tell the company, and they could release a statement or something." His tone hitches up at the end, almost like it’s a question—or maybe just the only thing he can think of to ease your guilt.
Not wanting to worry him, and always the best at avoiding the hard topics, you raise your eyebrows and sarcastically remark, "Oh yeah, and that would go over really well."
"Hm, yeah, you’re right. What do you think they would say, though?"
You lower your voice and attempt your best soulless executive impression. "'How could you, Chan?! You’re being so selfish by having desires and feelings! How do you expect us to monetize you when we can’t sell you as a fantasy boyfriend? Blargh rargh raa!'" You both chuckle at the absurdity of your situation: "And then of course you’ll get punished by your company, and everyone on Twitter is going to eat you alive when they find out, and you’ll get a tidal wave of hate thrown at you-"
"Oh, for sure." He nods along to your pessimistic prophecy (and excellent impression).
"-and I’ll be, like, assassinated by a bunch of teenagers whose identity hinges on the fantasy that they are secretly your one true love." You finish with a breathy chuckle.
He smiles at the ground. "Hey, Stays are much more than that," he says in an only half-serious defense.
"Heh, not the ones that I’ll have to deal with," you reply, almost to yourself. He seems to draw back at that comment, whatever clever response he had lined up dying on his lips.
You press your toes into the soft ground and push your swing over to his so that your shoulders touch. "I’m joking, Chan," you say in a soft voice.
"No, you're not." He shoots back in defeat. You sigh and try to meet his evasive eyes.
"You’re right, I’m not," you sigh, leaning in closer to him, "but that doesn’t mean I regret any of this. I can wish things were different while still loving how they are now." He finally meets your eyes, and his gaze goes soft. You share a fond look and, without words, reach an understanding: you're the best thing that has happened to each other, and eventually your love may see the light of day, but for now, just this is more than enough.
He brings your hand up to his mouth and lightly kisses your knuckles before letting your arms fall in between the both of you. "You’re right. I love this too. I’ll love anything as long as we can do it together." His words are full of tenderness and a rom-com sincerity that only he can do right.
"Except sit in my hot apartment." You smile as you lean towards him, and he smiles too as he goes in for a kiss.
"No, I loved that too. Just a little less than this." His lips touch yours, gentle and grinning, as your giggles float up into the night sky and you feel truly at ease once more.
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