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#i can't really.. block him from real life
surgepricing · 3 months
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I think about Azula shooters often and their common refrain of "if Azula hadn't had a mental breakdown, she would've won" and I'm here to tell you that no, she wouldn't have.
There is no universe in which Azula was winning that fight with Zuko (or Katara, for that matter).
Azula spent so much of Book 2 being built up as this deadly terrifying force against whom the heroes are badly outmatched that it can be difficult to catch exactly how quickly Zuko is advancing.
Back up a bit to Book One. For the fearsome exiled crown prince of the Fire Nation, Zuko's not that impressive a firebender. He's not bad by any stretch, and he's able to lay the untrained Sokka and Katara flat pretty easily. Then he gets in the ring with Aang, who is an airbending master, and the difference between a regular bender and a master becomes apparent when Aang literally puts his ass to bed:
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People have attributed this to the fact that no one's fought an airbender in 100 years, but I think it's also worth noting that Aang (a 12 year old from a pacifist nation) has probably never fought anyone before. Like, ever. And yet the second Aang thinks "okay, I'll attack back", the fight's over.
Zuko's got the same genetic predisposition for firebending talent that Azula does, yet it never seems to manifest because of his mental blocks. At the beginning of the series, he's already so beat down that all he really has is conviction, pride, and anger, so even with training from Iroh (the firebending master, thank you very much), he struggles. Yet throughout Book 2, when he has no time to train because he's on the run, he actually seems to advance faster. The fact that his bending is literally tied to his character arc (as his morals become tangled and he has to fight off aforementioned mental blocks) is pretty brilliant. Like, by the time of the Crossroads of Destiny, Zuko getting his ass handed to him by Aang is a pretty consistent feature of the show--he just can't match wits with him.
Hell, at the beginning of the series, he and Iroh (again: the actual firebending master) launch a combined power surface-to-air attack...which Aang casually swats away into a nearby ice wall. Come the Crossroads of Destiny, however, and Zuko by himself launches this bigass fireball that blows through Aang's defenses.
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Zuko advances so quickly that it's scary. That prodigious talent is in him even if it doesn't come through as cleanly as with Azula. Who, by the way, was busy about to get flattened by Katara some few dozen feet away, until Zuko took over and then effectively stalemated her himself.
All of this in retrospect makes it abundantly clear why Zuko's firebending seemed to skyrocket so much when he learned true firebending from the Sun Warriors: it was really the only thing left. He's hard a hard road learning how to fight waterbenders, earthbenders, and airbenders, and even if unconsciously, he's applying the philosophy Iroh taught him about augmenting his bending style with aspects of other styles (see also, the waterbending-like fire whips he uses in the above gif). Once he actually understands fire and how it works, he's got it mastered. Hence why any gap between him and Azula effectively disappears as soon as their next fight--before her friends have betrayed her and her stability goes out the window. There's no real sense of urgency to their fight at the Boiling Rock prison. True, Sokka's presence with the sword helps, but Zuko doesn't look remotely worried and he counters Azula's every attack perfectly.
All her life, Azula only ever learned fire. She was taught by the best people the fire nation can employ, so she knows all the cool tricks, but she's still poisoned by the corrupted firebending practiced in the modern ATLA timeline. Unlike Zuko, who managed to get the basics if nothing else from Iroh (fire comes from the breath, and can be used to survive as much as to kill), Azula has always used fire as a weapon and a means to hurt others. She has no true knowledge of the craft, meaning she's got the same weaknesses as Zhao, she's just better disciplined to the point she can make up for it.
Zuko's victory was a given considering Azula's complete loss of control by the time of Sozin's comet, but even had she been in a perfect mental state, she'd have lost, because in many ways Zuko is simply the better firebender.
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And that's the truth of it.
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skteezcursed · 2 months
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❝greedy little darlin❞ — p.sh.
PAIRING. frat!park seonghwa x fem!reader.
GENDER AND WARNINGS. smut. dom!seonghwa. switch!sub!reader. university au. frat members ateez. sex talk (among adults). drinking (not too much, but just enough). pet names (mostly darling, reader is called slut once, good girl and handsome, prob more but i cant remember now). blowjob. hair pulling. cunnilingus. tongue fucking. over stimulation. sex with a condom (please remember to do that irl). light chocking. three? slaps on the ass. not proof read. i guess that's all, lmk if i forgot something.
SYNOPSIS. everyone knew you and Seonghwa were into each other, your friends even places a bet on when that would happen, although it never did. until he gets tired of your antics and decides to put you in your place.
RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.
WORD COUNT. ~5,6k.
NOTES. english is not my first language. part of the ateez frat boys (that i will still make so give me a moment) and of the atz house event you can't out rage us. shout out to @bro-atz for helping coming up with the idea for this, and to @seulrinnie-rinrin for betaing part of this. hopefully this is me leaving my slump so yeah, bye ♡.
IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.
CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡
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Nothing was ever simple with Seonghwa. 
Ever since the beginning, it was as if something was pulling you two closer and closer, the tension growing at each encounter. At first, everyone thought it was because you two didn’t know each other, the thing is that, after you met, the tension didn’t falter, it actually increased exponentially, to the point where your friends were making bets as to when and who would break first. 
Park Seonghwa is the type of guy that makes you question everything. Because how can a man be so drop dead gorgeous with minimum to no effort? How can he look the squishiest human being with those adorable boba eyes, but also have the devilish look on his face when his eyes became siren and the smirk in present, making you question if you should really keep that line between friends high, blocking your passage, blocking you to reach his collar and kiss him like you need oxygen, to feel his marvelous tongue in between your folds, his hair in between your fingers as he -
“Earth to (y/n), you there?”
“Yeah, yeah sorry,” you looked around your friends with an apologetic look before focusing on the food in front of you, sighing. “What are we talking about again?”
“Damn, you truly dozed off,” the chuckle Mingi gave, was followed by some of the others as San just turned to you with that sweet smile of his, the dimples present, a reminder he too, was holding back a laugh. 
“Since midterms are over, we were planning on having a little get together at the frat, no big party, just a few drink with friends, it’s not like any of us have time to organize it anyways,” you nodded taking another bite of your food, the movement being noticed by San who exchanged glances with the others. “So, can we count you on?”
“Don’t you consider me a friend, Sannie?” Everyone laughed as you leaned to kiss San’s cheek, apologizing. “I’ll be there, just let me know when.”
  “We are all gonna be there, by the way,” the knowing smile that Wooyoung sent your way, made you want to push his face against his plate, “in case you want to dress up.”
  “Why would I dress up to a get together with you guys?”
  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because Hwa is gonna be there.”
“And you have a huge crush on him,” Jongho continued Yunho’s line and you could see Yeosang opening his mouth.
“And let's not forget the sexual tension there is!”
“You two should honestly just fuck already and end everyone’s suffering at this point.”
“What the fuck you guys talking about, and another word from you,” you pointed at Wooyoung who had made the last remark, “and I’ll shove your face against the plate!”
“Oh, kinky, should we let Hwa know?”
Yunho commented and all the boys bursted into laughter as all you wanted was to be buried six feet under. 
  Of course you had a crush on Seonghwa. Of course whenever you two were together there was this small flirtatious situation, and the sexual tension was definitely high whenever you two were close in a room, but that didn’t mean anything. 
“I’m sure he’ll cave in soon and fuck you,” San’s words brought you back, making you eye him slightly shocked. “What? He thinks you are hot, he even said it to us the first time you two met, but I also don’t know why he hasn't done shit.”
“Because he likes to play with his food before eating it.”
Wooyoung jumped from the table the same second he finished his sentence already running from you trying to slap him, making everyone at the table and around you seven to laugh at the situation.
“I’ll fucking end you, Jung Wooyoung!”
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  You dolled up, he knew you would.
  You always did whenever you two were to meet, only to be even more irresistible in his eyes. The fact that his brother’s from the fraternity knew how badly he wanted you, didn’t help as they would always create situations for the two of you to get close. Not that neither bothered to argue. Seonghwa had tried to reason with the younger ones, but as soon as he realized you didn’t really care, even indulged whenever it happened, made him decide to test how far you were willing to go.
  As if you knew about it, you played along. 
You accepted his drinks, laughed at his jokes, shiver under his touch, lean towards him when he was close. Yet, you would also pull your own strings. You knew he wouldn’t be jealous, you noticed on the first few tries on how he simply would smile or laugh at your useless attempts at making him feel anything when you were with someone else, which was not the case when he was the one trying to make you jealous, even if unintentionally. 
So you changed your methods. From revealing clothes and trying to make him jealous, you simply decided to make yourself present, being there if needed, and flee if that was not the case, you stopped trying to get his attention, deciding to enjoy your time and maybe, just maybe, get with someone to alleviate the ache between your thighs whenever Seonghwa got too handsy with you before leaving you high and dry.
  ATZ frat was known, as any other house on the Greek Road, to be just to mess around, never to create a relationship. Although you knew Wooyoung since you were kids, you knew that to be true whenever you and the other boys would get together, even San who appeared to be the one who leans mostly towards dating, would fuck around from time to time. The odds weren’t in your favor, so you decided to brush it off, to have fun with your friends, to go to their frat from time to time, and that was when your ‘relationship’ with Seonghwa started to change. 
Both of you knew that this was never going forward. The moment you realized that, it was like something shifted in him, he started to go towards you whenever you met, regardless if it was at the frat or not. You knew that didn’t mean he was going to accept your advances, especially after you found out Hongjoong had established a rule that family and close friends from the members were off limits after a complicated situation happened a few weeks back and that you were highly aware of.
  “So, you guys actually decided to throw a low profile party, hm? That’s a first,” you comment as Seonghwa opened the door and took a step back to let you in the frat before taking your jacket off, which he quickly took it in his hands as he closed the door. “Is anyone else coming?”
  You asked, looking around, trying to see anyone, but the house looked rather empty. “I don’t know, but the main entertainment has finally arrived,” he purred against your ear, making you shiver as you smirked, keeping your composure. “Care for something to drink?”
  “Sure, I’ll have whatever you are having,” you answer quickly, trying to brush off the shiver as you follow him towards the kitchen. “Heard it was a get together with friends… Was kind of expecting more people, if I’m honest.”
  “Anyone in particular?” Seonghwa asked as he handed you a bottle of soju, clacking the bottles before bringing it to his lips, predatory eyes scanning your face. “Or are you asking to be sure you will be the only one here?”
  As he took a step closer to you, you changed the weight of your foot before bringing the soju bottle to your own lips. “No one in particular, and we both know I don't mind sharing attention.”
  Your eyes wandered across his face, lingering on his smirk before your fingers played with the necklace that hung low on his sheer shirt, the small opening where the necklace hang allowing your fingers to brush along the skin, as you noticed the smirk on Seonghwa’s lips grow slightly, his tongue poking out before you move away from him with a smirk.
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  “C’mon man, a hundred!”
  “Fuck off Wooyoung, I’m not joining,” Mingi said pushing Wooyoung slightly chuckling as both their eyes landed on you, “it will be just another night and you know it, you will lose money.”
  “So why you scared of betting?” 
  Wooyoung smirked at Mingi with raised eyebrows. “What you two up to, this time?”
  “Betting if you and Hwa finally give in and fuck,” Wooyoung says bluntly making you scoff as you took another sip of your drink as you watch Seonghwa from afar talking to a few other people. “I’m betting it will, but the others are sure it’s just another night where you two keep with your cat and mouse game.”
  “He knows I’m down, it’s in his lane,” you chuckle at Wooyoung’s words as you finish your drink. “I’m getting another bottle, do you guys want it?”
  Both denied as Wooyoung continued to patronize Mingi, making you shake your head as you moved past Seonghwa, a little too close for comfort as your hand brush on his ass and you notice his eyes fall on you as you kept going to the kitchen, giving him a smirk as you open the fridge to get another bottle of soju.
  “That’s your fourth bottle,” you hear Seonghwa’s voice, seeing him eye you from the counter, the bottle on his hands half empty, “shouldn’t you slow down?”
  “Oh, is the mighty Park Seonghwa worried about me?” You smirk as you choose your bottle, opening as you eyed him. “That’s adorable, and I would actually believe it if it was a different scenario…”
  “Why do you think I’m not?” 
  His eyes followed your form as you walked towards him, his hand instinctively finding your hip pressing it lightly, as he noticed your breath hitch as the bottle met your lips. 
  “Because we are at a party, a chill one, where nothing major is gonna happen…” Your eyes followed down to his sheer shirt, nails tracing down, touching his skin and abs over the shirt as you reached his pants, fingers vagally there before it went to the hook of the pants. “And I’m getting bored.”
  His hand on your hips pressed, making you bite your lip as he took a step closer, his lips hovering over yours as his eyes studied every reaction. “So you intend to get drunk?”
  “It’s not a solution, but it’s a possibility,” you say as your body gets closer to him, the freaking magnetic relationship you had whenever you two were together. “You have pretty friends…”
  Your eyes avert for the people behind Seonghwa, who follows your eyes as it lands on some of his colleagues and friends before reaching yours with a small knowing smirk. 
  “I don’t think they are available…”
  “Funny, because some of them already engaged in a few conversations with me,” you chuckle watching him, as one of your fingers extended and touched near his crotch area lightly, “and i can’t say I’m not interested in what they have to say…”
  “Then have your fun with them, I’ll be waiting to hear about it later,” he hinted with raised eyebrows to you as his bottle reached his lips, his eyes never leaving you. 
  “Oh, so they are the kiss and tell type…” You murmur looking at his friends once more. “Might as well prepare for a performance then.”
  “You wouldn’t need to if they knew what they were doing,” his eyes burned on you, as a smirk played on his lips, his hand pulling you as it reached your lower back, pressing you against his, against the bulge in his pants. His lips brushed against your ear, “but hey, if you are gonna fake better put on a memorable show, which I’m sure you are more than capable of doing.”
  “I always do,” your voice sounded steady but your body was betraying you, as usual. “Wouldn’t be bad to not have to fake it everytime.”
  Your hands moved between your bodies as you squeezed his bulge lightly, hearing him wince. “Feeling brave today, are we?”
  “No, just needing to relieve some stress, after all, finals are finally over.”
  You brushed your lips against Seonghwa’s before squeezing his bulge once more before pushing him away with the hand that held the soju bottle as you moved past him, smirking. 
  “So this is how we are playing tonight?” Seonghwa said under his breath. “Good luck with your boy toy search.”
  He said a little louder, which you only raised your hand dismissing his comment, as his eyes lingered on your figure. The pants becoming a bother. Finals week had taken its toll on him, and just like you, he also needed a release. His eyes trailed on you as he watched you move, talk, touch and laugh at everyone's commentaries, a knowing glint in his eyes, the smirk always present as he called in one of his friends.
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  As it usually happened, neither you nor Seonghwa engaged once more throughout the night as you went on and on talking to every male, choosing if you’d bring any of them back home with you. The soju bottle now empty as your eyes wander on the last choices.
  “Found them already?”
  The amusement in Seonghwa voice already told the smirk plastered on his lips. “Maybe…”
  “I’ll take that as no then,” you felt him get closer to you, his front pressing on your side. “I may have someone for you, if you want.”
  “Didn’t know you were into voyeurism,” your eyes quickly shot him a confused but amused look. 
  “And you seemed too bothered right now, so what is your answer?” 
  His hot breath against your neck and ear as you felt his lips touch your skin as his eyes studied you, as yours followed around the room trying to catch a glimpse of his friends, missing one as you turned to him with a smirk. Lips almost touching as you did, feeling his hand on your lower back. 
  “I guess you got my taste correctly.”
  “Darling, when I say I know you, I mean it.”
Lips quickly found your cheekbone as his hand pulled you closer to his body. You held any sound not giving him the satisfaction.
  “Cocky as always, aren’t you?” You chuckle but not move away from him, your nails scratching his abs through the shirt and subtly, as you feel them contract. “Why don’t you go get him then? I’m getting rather tired.”
  “He went upstairs though, should we go fetch him?” His eyes were siren-like, a small smirk as he took your wrist, guiding you up the stairs. The look from some of the boys from the frat only made you laugh as you shook your head. “What’s funny?”
  Seonghwa asks curiously as you reach the second floor. “Some of the boys looked at you guiding me.”
  “I guess that’s fair,” he chuckled as well, his demeanor changing a little as he kept his hand on your wrist guiding you through the rooms, reaching the one you knew to be his. “Someone spilled a drink on his shirt, he asked to borrow one of mine.”
  Your eyebrows raised, nodding still processing what was happening, as Seonghwa was a master of teasing you and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d guide you to the rooms — or his in specific — only to get you even more frustrated. Your eyes studied his features as his hand opened his room motioning for you to enter. 
   “I’m not fucking your friend in your room, Seonghwa.”
  “Who says anything on those lines, darling?” A chuckle left his lips. “Now, will you be a good girl and enter the room, or don’t you trust me to have your best interest in heart?”
  You bit your lip, noticing his gaze fall on them for a second before you motion to enter his room, eyes looking for the friend who was indeed with a shirt from Seonghwa and a stained one in hand. 
  “Oh, hello,” the boys said moving away from his phone, putting his shirt in a corner before his eyes fell on you and then Seonghwa. “Wingman, hm?”
  You shook your head at his words, noticing Seonghwa nod as you focused on the boy that took a few steps towards you. 
  “A good wingman, nonetheless,” your voice was laced with amusement as his friend reached closer with a smirk, his hand going to cup your face. “Now, shall we leave?”
  “Just give us a second, will you, darling?” Seonghwa said against your neck as you noticed both leave you, allowing you to take a breather. Of course Seonghwa would pull something like that. Few seconds later you hear footsteps and the movement of the door. “Thank you for being such a good girl, darling.”
  At that, the door closed the same second Seonghwa’s hands found yours hips pulling you against his front making you gasp, before chuckling lightly.
  “Smart, I gotta give you that.”
  “Couldn’t have made it easy for you to figure it out, could I?” 
  His lips quickly found your neck as you moved your head to the side giving him access as you arched your back, pressing your ass against his bulge. One hand found his on your hip as the other went to the back of his neck tangling on his long locks.
  “Of course, what would be the fun in that?” You chuckle before gasping as you felt him suck on the skin of your neck, as you put pressure on his nape, feeling his right hand lower towards your exposed thigh, the tips quickly wander to your inner thighs going up teasing your clothed core. “If you are just teasing this time, I swear —”
  “I’m done with your antics, darling, it’s time to put you in your place.” The whimper that left your mouth made him chuckle against your neck as he put pressure on your clothed clit making you jolt. “C’mon darling, I think we postponed this for far too long,” his hands quickly turned you to face him, one hand on your chin before going to your hair. “Why don’t we start with you on your knees?”
  You oblige letting him push you down, until your knees felt the floor, his crotch eye leveled, your mouth watering as his other hand undid his pants, the one on your head entangling with your hair as his pants fell, leaving him only in his underwear, the outline of his cock on display as you swallow hard. A light caress on your scalp was the only ‘okay’ you got before your hands quickly went to his waistband, lowering the underwear slowly. 
  His cockhead glowing with precum as you licked your lips feeling him pull your head near his pelvis, your hands pulling the rest of his underwear down as his cockhead quickly met the touch of your lips. The groan that left his lips making you smile as the pool in between your legs grew. As one hand finished pulling down his underwear, the other quickly met the base of his cock. 
  “Such a handsome face with such a pretty cock,” you said with a smile before opening your mouth, taping his tip on your tongue, feeling his fingers tighter on your head. 
  “Such a pretty filthy mouth, I wonder how it would look filled with my cum.”
  Without a warning, he pushed your head down his length, moaning as your lips and tongue made contact with his cock, your hand working on the base of the cock as the other rested on his thigh. In swift movements you started to little by little take him in your mouth, gagging lightly from time to time, before he let you breath, the spit line connecting your swollen lips to his cock only making him twitch before fucking your mouth once more. 
  “Fuck, darling, do you like when I fuck your mouth like that, hm?” One of his hands caressed your hollowed cheeks as he slowed his movements a bit, to be able to look at you. “Such a pretty little thing for me, taking me in your mouth so well like that, I wonder how your cunt feels if this is how well your mouth treats me.”
  You mumble with your mouth around his cock, making the vibration run through his body as one of your hands went up his abs under the shirt, which he quickly took it off, throwing somewhere along the pants and underwear as you started to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks, one hand on the base of his cock, sometimes joining in the movement your head was making. The sounds and cusses that went out of Seonghwa’s mouth only made you wetter by the second, if it wasn’t for your damped panties, you sure would have made a messy spot of arousal on his floor.
  At this point you tried your best to keep yourself composed, mouth open and holding yourself steady as he fucked your mouth, holding your head in place before his movements become more erratic. You could feel him twitch on your mouth the last few times, the cockhead reaching the back of your throat, your eyes watering as your nails sank onto the skin of his thigh before his release filled your mouth and throat.
  Before he could pull it out you held his base, slurping as you got the last drop of his cum in your mouth, swallowing and opening your mouth, putting his tip again in your tongue. The smirk along with the groan that left him was enough to make you want to do it all over again, to have him fuck your mouth once more, but his hand was quickly on your chin pulling you up, before connecting your mouths, making both moan against your lips. 
  Your hands quickly found his half-hard member, swift movements as your tongues explored each other’s mouths. His hand kept firm on the back of your head, holding you close to his as he ravish on your mouth, while the other went to your thigh, raising your dress to the waistline before slapping it harshly, making you jolt and moan against his mouth. A smirk could be felt as he slapped your ass one more time, pulling your hair, parting your lips, before smacking it once more, a glint in his eyes as he watched your whole body tremble.
  He quickly moves you to the bed, pushing you down as his lips meet yours once more, your hands moving to his hair as one of his keeps holding your neck, the other quickly parting your legs as he pressed his knee to your clothed core, the hand holding your hips in place as you instinctively you started moving slowly as he restrain your movements from the grip on your hip making you whimper against his mouth.
  “Please, please Hwa, I need — argh!” You complain as you feel the pressure of his knee against your clit, his mouth leaving wet trails of kisses along your neck and collarbone. “Please fuck me, please Hwa, I need you to —”
  “I said I’d put you in your place, not take orders from you, I’m sure you know the difference, right?” He hovered over you as he finished saying that, his hand previously on your hips going up under your dress to pinch your nipple making you whine and throw your head back onto the mattress. “I need an answer, darling,” he said once more, his lips hovering against yours as he forced you to look at him, his other hands massaging your breast as he pressured your clit once more, making you move your hips searching for friction, only making him chuckle. “Be a good girl and answer my question and you’ll get to cum, although I do like to play with my food before eating it, makes it even more delicious to watch you come undone on my tongue.”
  “Fucking hell,” you breath as you saw the smirk and watched his eyes fall to your parted lips, as the friction with his knee helped a little, but only made your insides burn with the need to have him inside you. “Yes, I-I know the difference, now ple-please touch me, please, Hwa.”
  “Looks like you know how to beg, that’s cute,” he said before both his hands found your dress, pulling it over your head, exposing the majority of your body, the only covered part being the place you wanted him the most. “Time to grant your wish, darling.”
  His lips quickly started a trail of wet open kisses down your neck, one of his hands holding your waist, the other playing with your nipple, pitching it as the other was finally met with Seonghwa’s mouth as he sucked in and played with the nipple, both with his tongue when he wouldn’t let marks over your chest. The lust in his eyes only got darker as he saw the marks embellishing your skin. 
  “Hwa, please… It hurts,” you whimper as you move your hips quickly against his leg, making him chuckle as he starts to kiss down your stomach, kneeling before you, siren eyes locked on you. “I’ve been good, now please fuck me.”
  Although you did plead, your voice carried a hint of demand that made Seonghwa arched his brows and smirked as his hands spread your legs wider. You lifted your upper body, resting it on your elbows as you wanted to see the sight of Seonghwa’s head between your legs, as you have imagined and dreamed about it so many times before, only to groan when he kissed your inner thigh, neglecting the heat coming from your clothed folds. 
  “Patience comes for those who wait, darling, and I rush for no one,” his voice was laced with lust and a hint of a challenge, making you bite your lip, knowing if you pushed his rules, he might leave you high and dry. His smirk grew as he realized you caught up with his hint. “I knew you were a good girl, a brat even, but good to know you can be easily tamed,” his lips touched your damped panties right above your clit making you jolt and curse under your breath. “Now, lay down on the bed and let me have my fun with you, okay, darling?”
  Before you could do as he said, his lips found your clothes core making you throw your head back with a moan, feeling his hands moving and pulling your panties to the side, his lips finding your sensitive clit making you jolt as he chuckled at your reaction, tip of his tongue touching your clit as he ravish on the sight of you squirming on his bed. Your hands quickly found his hair pulling it to you, which he obliged for the time being.
   As his lips enveloped and sucked your clit, his fingers that were parting your legs found your core, coming up and down your entrance, making you jolt and clench around nothing as he would never put them in too much.
  “Fuck Hwa, please please please please,” you squirmed already feeling tears fill your eyes as you looked down at him. “Fucking hell,” you said once more as your eyes met, the siren lustful eyes that you only dreamed of having between your legs before feeling his tongue play with your clit as two fingers enter you, making you throw your head back and arch your back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck!”
  You screamed as you felt the build up in your stomach, only for him to stop completely before you feel his hands tanking off you panties before hovering over you, kissing your lips once more as his fingers played with your slit before entering you and curling inside, his thumb pressing on your clit as you moaned against Seonghwa’s lips, cussing and begging at the same time, as all you wish was to cum.
  “My fingers or mouth, darling?”
  “Both.”
  “Greedy little darling, unfortunately you can only pick one,” you open your mouth to complain but only a moan escapes as he adds another finger making you squirm under him. “Choose now, or you won't have any.”
  “Mouth.”
  You say breathlessly as he lowers himself so his lips hover over yours. “Good girl.”
  His lips are soon connected to your clit once more as his fingers leave you making you whine at the loss and clench around nothing as he quickly starts to ravish on your cunt. His tongue enters you in places you never thought it would be possible as his nose flickers on your sensitive clit making you tug on his hair as moans, curses and Soenghwa’s name leave your mouth at each strip he licks and each time his tongue enters your core. 
  “Fuck Hwa, so good, fucking god—”
  “Cum for me darling, I want you to cum on my tongue, only then I’ll fill you up, so be a good girl and listen to what I say.”
  You could barely process what he said as the build up in your stomach became too much, as you tried to push Seonghwa away as the stimulation started to become too great but he didn’t pull away, smirking at how much you squirmed because of his mouth. As heat flushed through your body making you numb, Seonghwa took his type to lick you clean watching you jolt from how sensitive you were before hovering above you once more.
  “You ready for my cock, darling?” You just nodded as you watched him smirk, going for a condom that was in his drawer, quickly putting it on before positioning himself at your entrance. “I need to hear it.”
  “I want you to fuck me senseless, Park Seonghwa.”
  “My pleasure, my darling.”
  At that he thrusts fully into you, holding your hips in place, keeping steady as he watched you, wondering if it was okay for him to move. Once you started to breathe again and your hand met his forearm as the other went for your breast, he smiled and started to move. Steady at first, watching how your facial expressions would change, playing with your body as he wanted to see what would make you tic, what would bring the sweetest sound from your mouth, but most importantly, what would make you come back to his bed. 
  “Fuck Hwa, yes, please, just like — argh fuck, YES!” 
  You couldn’t care less if someone was listening, if you had to take the walk of shame tomorrow, if this was only a one night stand, how you’d face Seonghwa once more if that was the case, none of it matter, all it mattered was how well he was rearranging your organs as his fingers sank into the flesh of your hip and he’d pull you towards him. 
  “Is my greedy little darling enjoying my cock?”
  “Yes, yes, yes fucking yes.”
   Seonghwa smiled at your words as one of his hands left your hip to find your clit, making you scream the moment he started to put pressure there, feeling you clench around him, his eyes closing as he could only think about making you cum on his cock, think about hearing you moan like that once more for him. As he felt his own orgasm coming closer, his other hand went for your neck, squeezing it just enough to make you roll your eyes back as his thumb still moved slowly on your clit as his thrusts became erratic.
  “Cum for me darling, cum on my cock like the good slut you are, yes?”
  And that was enough to push you over the edge as you screamed, arching your back as you creamed around his cock, feeling his thrusts start to slow down before his last thrust kept steady inside you as you knew he had emptied himself. His hand on your clit went to the mattress as the one on your neck found your cheeks caressing it lightly before he locked your lips together. 
  “So that just happened.”
  He chuckled at your words, making you laugh as well, before he looked at you with the boba eyes you knew so well on certain occasions. 
  “I’m gonna pull out, okay?” You nodded whining at the loss of his cock as you watched him take the condom out and toss it on the trash as he got a cloth to clean you up, surprising you a little, bringing a chuckle to leave his mouth. “Are you okay?” He asked as he carefully cleaned you up, eyeing you with concerned eyes when you hissed a little and he quickly apologized.
  “It’s okay, Hwa, don’t worry about it,” you comment, trying to get up already looking for your clothes, only to have Seonghwa hold you by the arm as your legs failed you. “I’m fine, I’ll be okay in a bit, just —”
  “Lay down,” it wasn’t a request although it sounded like it coming from his mouth, by how careful he said it. “You are not leaving this room, we will sleep and then talk about it tomorrow, unless you are uncomfortable —”
  “It’s fine I— I thought you’d want me to leave since…”
  “I’m a little cold, yes, but not that cold. I could never make a girl leave my room right after something like this, especially if that girl is you.” Your breath hitched and Seonghwa smiled at you. “Now, let’s go lay down, do you want one of my shirts to sleep on, darling?”
  You nodded, smiling at him as you sat back on the bed, as Seonghwa smiled at you handing you a shirt and boxers, which you thanked as he pulled the covers after putting shorts himself and laying next to you in bed.
  “Thank you, Seonghwa.”
  “No need to thank me,” he kissed your temple pulling you closer to him on the bed, his hands playing with your hair as he noticed you drifting to dreamland, chuckling lightly. “Goodnight, my darling.”
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keefechambers · 7 months
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I wanna be blunt about this ongoing James somerton suicide threat issue but I don't want to connect it to my IRL Twitter to comment on the dogshit takes I'm seeing there or the good and well meaning but maybe too kind takes I'm seeing here.
Obviously, I hope that this is a false alarm cry for help fake threat. Yes, it would reinforce that Somerton is a self-centered egomaniac who can't handle consequences but that's preferable to dead.
But I work in local news and let me tell you something. I've covered half a dozen family annihilating murder suicides and heard hundreds of men making suicide threats over police scanners and a huge swath of these don't happen because they're depressed or because people are mean to them on the Internet. They're punishment. A person with an enormous amount of entitlement towards people around them gets backed into a corner and they punish the people closest to them by killing themselves or threatening to kill themselves.
No one wants to talk about this feature of suicide because...you want to help people who are struggling and guide them away from this path and being blunt about the fact that sometimes people die of suicide as a consequence of their own shittiness towards the world does not really help actively suicidal people. But suicide rates are higher in men not just because they have higher rates of untreated mental illness (a societal issue we must address for the sake of all) but because some people, often men, use suicide (but more often the threat of suicide) as a tool of abuse and control.
I'm not saying somerton is like, an icky abuser bad guy, he's just a run of the mill grifter scumbag, but his actions in the past show a clear pattern of escalating behavior that aligns with this.
Somerton gets called out -> somerton alleges physical threats of violence against himself and his fans rally around him supportively -> Harry calls somerton out in a bigger way -> Somerton says he's hospitalized but there are inconsistencies with the story but no one wants to talk about that because you wanna be nice-ish about a guy who just tried to kill himself and now he's trying to be framed as tragic but it doesn't really stick -> somerton apologizes again but his apology is rightly called out for lies and manipulative framing as well as his continuing attempts to profit off the community he betrayed -> James posts a suicide note publicly putting the onus of his own suicide on the loss of his friend Nick who he repeatedly threw under the bus and now everyone is rallying to say nice-ish shit and wring their hands in concern over poor james -> indefinitely repeat this vicious cycle forever until he actually does die or finally gives up and gets real, intensive therapy and a day job.
Thats not to say anyone's concern is misplaced, it's 100% better for him to be a living scumbag than a dead one. He deserves the chance to grow and learn and have a life outside of youtube.
But you don't have to portray this as the action of a sad depressed man who got bullied off the Internet. It's manipulation, whether he intended to go through with it or not and whether someone intervened or not. Not denying that internet bullying is a thing, I'm sure there were some people who were shitty directly to James but he made the choice to not unplug from this and to try and keep being a public figure rather than taking care of himself. He could have deleted Twitter, blocked anyone who was an asshole, gone to therapy and tried to move on with his life but if he'd deleted his channel he'd have lost monetization... Can't have that, right? So he posts some apology videos so his channel stays active and then complains about how ruinous this is while never trying to take real accountability.
But the reality is that people would have forgotten about him so quickly and maybe his job prospects would've been impacted but...that's on him, and that's for him to figure out but it's not actually life ruining. He chose to continue to engage knowing he'd get backlash and hate and he'd feel worse and worse and things would never get better without the time and space for people to forget.
He made the choice to make a public spectacle of his own alleged suicide. That is the action of someone who wants to put the weight of their suicide on someone else's shoulders and is morally wrong. He can be held to account for that, alive or dead.
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skeltnwrites · 1 month
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A/N: I think this is the first time I've ever been so emotional about something I've written 😭 this hit a little too close to home for me
Summary: You help Eddie wash his hair when he can't. | 0.9k words
TW: depression, best friend!reader
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“Nooo,” Eddie whines, voice muffled by blankets. “Stop– Seriously!” 
Your grip around his ankle only tightens from where you’ve fished it out of his cocoon. You tug, ripping his sock off in the process, until he’s halfway off the couch, clinging onto a cushion like his life depends on it. 
“You’re so annoying,” he slumps into a sitting position on the floor, eyes peaking out of the fold in his comforter. 
You crouch in front of your best friend. “Yes, but you love me.” 
He leans away when you peel the corner of the blanket away. He’s pale, which is typical, but it’s summer and he looks borderline vampirish with how visible his veins are. A palm brushes his bangs back to meet the knot secured to his crown. He bends away from your touch a second time. 
“Hair’s greasy,” he mumbles; a weak excuse, like you’d ever care about that. 
“I can wash it for you,” you offer seriously. 
His lips tilt into a sort of smile and his brows knit together, “What? Like in the sink?” 
“If you want?” 
He hums, “Prolly uncomfortable.” 
“Okay, in the shower then.”
A real smile this time. “If you want to see me naked just say that.” 
You punch his shoulder lightly. Normally you’d shove him hard without a second thought, and he’d probably push back equally, but it feels wrong to do so when you know he won’t put up a fight. “You can put swim trunks on.”
“I don’t feel like changing.”
“Okay, then in this.” You pinch the hem of his t-shirt sleeve. 
“That’s a little weird.”
“Since when do you care about weird?”
He shrugs half-heartedly, “I guess. If you want.” 
In the bathroom, you turn the shower knob, “Hot or cold?” 
“Warm.” He’s slumped on the toilet lid in his pajamas, having ditched the duvet in the hall. 
“Okay, here.” You whisk the curtain open fully. 
He shoots you a look that says, ‘Am I really doing this?’ before stepping into the tub. His eyes widen when you climb in right after him.
“You’re crazy,” he grins and it makes your heart leap. You’ve missed the way his eyes crinkle at the edges and his lashes kiss the tips of his cheeks when he smiles. 
“Not as crazy as you.” You hook a finger under his scrunchie, gently working it until his curls spill over his shoulders. 
He sighs, eyes drawing shut when you tilt his head back. His clothes are already soaked through, clinging to his slender frame like a second skin. He blocks most of the stream but stray droplets catch your arms where they connect with his head.  
“Have you eaten yet?” You ask, massaging shampoo through his hairline. “I could go for some takeout right about now.” 
He blinks at you. “I know what you’re doing.”
You crane his head to the side to scrub his nape, “I’m not doing anything. I’m hungry.”
You’re not looking, but you practically feel him roll his eyes. 
“So, pizza?” 
He knows you only suggest it because it’s his comfort food, but he’s too tired to argue about getting something you both want. Eddie nods into your hand. You thumb his cheek, studying him self-indulgently while his eyes are sealed again. 
You work conditioner through his dead ends, tenderly detangling, and sticking spirals of black hair on the shower wall as they are combed out. 
Silent tears mingle with the water dripping off his chin. The tremble in his breath gives him away and you acknowledge it with a wordless hug. He reciprocates, squeezing you under the warmth of the showerhead. His nose digs into your collarbone and you trace the knobs on his spine. 
This is not the first time you’ve seen him cry, or held him while he did, for that matter. You are well-versed in handling his depressive episodes. Knowing when to push and when not to pry. Knowing when to hold him and when to give him space. And most importantly knowing that most of the time he just needs someone there. Not to talk about it necessarily but to just be with him for a night so he can pretend not to feel like shit for a few hours. 
You wrap him in a towel and scour his room for fresh pajamas. There was a time when he’d have been embarrassed to let you see his room in such a state, but you’ve drilled it into his head that you love all of him, even the messier parts. 
You change out of damp clothes in his room while he does in the bathroom. A handful of his things are put away while you’re in there, but not enough for him to scold you for doing so. 
He meets you back in the living room where he sinks back into his spot in front of the TV. You dial his favorite pizza place before joining him on the couch to brush and braid his hair. He thanks you, though you don’t need it. 
With his legs thrown across your lap and half a greasy pie split between your bellies, the hum of a movie soothes you both to sleep. Outside, the world spins on, but for now, here with him, everything feels still.
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Text
Breeding.
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Warnings: NSFW, AFAB!Reader, Fem!Reader, PinV, breeding kink, lactation kink, they briefly call each other "Mommy" and "Daddy".
A short story.
Please be aware of the content you consume.
𐙚
Anakin hates kids.
Well... he doesn't hate them, but he surely doesn't like them.
They're snotty, nasty. They talk to much and ask too many stupid questions.
To be honest, he doesn't even really want them. He's a Jedi. He's supposed to be celibate. But he also just doesn't see a life where he's holding and raising a child on his own. The world is too big and scary for that. He'd surely burst a blood vessel due to nerves or just from holding a hand that's sticky with an unknown substance.
But when he's buried deep inside you, the dull tip of his cock hitting your cervix- the entrance to your womb, he can't deny that he is just a man.
He pictures how you'd look with a belly swollen from the life put inside of you. He's the one who got to fuck his cum up into you.
Your stomach wouldn't be the only thing swelling, your breasts would too. You’d produce milk to be able to feed the combination of the both of you. He fantasizes about putting his lips on your sensitive nipples and sucking the milk out for himself, swallowing the food your body created for nurturing and feeding.
You. He'd be drinking a piece of you.
While he has you in the mating press- ironically, he finds himself caressing your stomach with his real hand.
"Gonna make you a mommy." He manages to tell you, rambling. "I can't wait to see your bump. To see how my children look like inside of you." His lips begin to trail down the side of your neck.
His thrusts have you squirming underneath him, panting even though you're not doing any of the work. "Make me a mommy, Anakin. Make me a mommy, and I'll make you a daddy."
"I'm ready to become one..." Anakin presses another kiss to your neck, before moving back up towards your mouth again.
"You want me to put a lot of babies in you...? Make you my pregnant beauty? Yeah?" He moves his hands around your body, caressing your stomach yet again as he does so. "To see what we make?" He kisses you again, biting your lower lip.
"Do you want my babies...? To feel them moving inside of you? To see what they look like after spending so much time in you? To see what you look like with a belly full of my children?" He mumbles against your lips.
"Yes!" You yell, wanting to feel him fill you with the warmth of his cum. Wanting to bear his child(ren). "Oh- yes!"
A smile grows on Anakin's face as he buries his face into your neck yet again, putting his tongue flat against your skin so that he can taste your sweat, his stomach tensing due to his approaching climax.
"We'll get you a nice and full belly soon..."
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Hello! I am still knee-deep in writers block, but I felt bad about my absence. I tweaked something that's been in my drafts for a while. I hope it is satisfactory!
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arminsumi · 1 year
Text
I want to kiss you — キスしたい
G. Satoru — さとる ⋅ fem reader
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NOTE : there's more parts planned for this, i just wanted to get at least this continuation out ✌️ it's maybe gonna be a bit of a slowburn thing, bc personally i love anticipating the buildup of two characters kissing. and also ugh i have such cute ideas in the drafts for this! like you and him using a magnetic drawing board to write down things that you take turns deciphering. and him writing a whole diary of his thoughts that he wishes he could voice to you, that he gives to you when you're leaving at the end of your visit 🥺 anyways!! lmk if you want to be tagged for any continuations pwease i'd value ur engagement very much !!
SUMMARY — you and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.
WARNINGS — slight underlying romantic tension between you and Suguru sooo potential love triangle?! one bed trope (you + Satoru), ik google translate is inaccurate but 🤷‍♀️ oh well
WORDCOUNT ≈ 4.6k
🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)
A continuation of this post
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Satoru's never really been in love before.
Sure, in high school he experienced crushes and a handful of dates. But the crushes were shallow and short-lived, and the dates were lousy and forgettable.
But you? Well it's funny, see, you live on a whole different continent and can't speak his language, and yet to him you're as unforgettable as the scent of spring.
His feelings for you seep into his skin slowly, beautifully; and yet he can't express a single one to you because he too can't speak your language.
During late-night video calls, Suguru tries to bridge the gap between you and his best friend. And in your group chat, both Shoko and Suguru combine their skills to help you and Satoru understand each other. They do it because they see how badly the both of you want to know more about each other; especially Satoru.
Satoru has never been so infatuated before; never quite so curious and unashamedly intrigued with someone else. You're all he thinks about day and night.
When you speak, he desperately strains his ears. When you text, he consults the dreaded Google translate. And he's always nagging Suguru to translate everything, because he wants to know your every thought and expression.
Around a year and a half after meeting you, Satoru realizes something when he's lazing in his bed with his fluffy white cat curled up on his stomach as it rises and falls with his gentle breathing.
He likes you.
On call, when you giggle at the cat's fluffy tail blocking the webcam, Satoru thinks;
あなたの笑いが大好きです I love your laugh.
When talking about you with Suguru, he receives a little teasing smirk from him.
あなたは彼女が好きですよね? You like her, huh?
During lonely nights, he scrolls through your socials and stares longingly at photos of you, ones where you're hanging out with your real-life friends or family.
とても羨ましいです。私も彼女に近づきたいです。 I'm so jealous. I want to be close to her, too.
Listening to you attempt to speak Japanese on a call while him and Suguru are on a walk around Tokyo, he thinks;
私の言語であなたの声を聞くのが大好きです。 I love hearing your voice in my language.
Any photo of your face that you personally sent him, he looks at with heart eyes and saves immediately.
キスしたい。 I want to kiss you.
He'd be lying if he said he never pressed his lips to his screen and closed his eyes, pretending he was kissing you.
Satoru thinks poetically about you. He pens down these elaborative thoughts into his diary that he plans to give you one day. Maybe then you can get an idea of how deeply he thinks about you.
But even if he could speak English fluently, or you could speak Japanese fluently, he's sure neither language could be descriptive enough when it comes to his feelings for you.
He tries so hard to learn some phrases in anticipation of your upcoming visit, but all he can say when he meets you for the first time at Haneda airport is;
"Hi."
And he waves cutely.
"Hi!" you giggle, waving back.
And all at once, there's a bunch of thoughts buzzing in his head. He's looking at you like he's captivated. Even if he knew any solid English, he's sure he'd be speechless anyways.
実物の彼女はもっと美しい、信じられない。 She's even more beautiful in real life, I can't believe it.
彼女が何を言っているのか全く分かりませんが、いい感じですね。耳元で聞く彼女の声だけが私が望んでいたものです。 I have no idea what she's saying, but it sounds good. Her voice in my ear is all I wanted.
なぜ彼女は私ではなくスグルを抱きしめたのでしょうか?その瞬間は混乱の渦だったのでしょうか、それとも彼女は私を抱きしめたくなかったのでしょうか? Why did she hug Suguru instead of me? Was that moment a whirlwind of confusion, or did she just not want to hug me?
When you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, the boys wait for you in their seats at the little airport cafe. The neon sign glows yellow above, plants hang from the ceiling; it's a busy place.
They're talking about you over their beverages.
Satoru groans dramatically, throwing his head back, fluffy hair flopping cutely.
"Oh Satoru," Suguru chuckles, "What's the matter? Why the groan?"
"I want to hug her."
Suguru's heart melts. "Then hug her. She doesn't bite. I think she wants to hug you, too."
"But then why didn't she hug me like she hugged you earlier? Maybe I don't seem huggable to her..."
"It was a rushed moment, she had just arrived you know? Don't overthink. Satoru, just hug her."
Satoru lets out a long, stifled noise that's a mix between a groan and a sigh. He tilts his whole body back, balancing precariously on the plastic chair. Rubbing his eyes until he sees some phosphenes, a habit he did when he was nervous. Suguru notices.
"Are you nervous?" Suguru asks tenderly.
"Really nervous. She's prettier in real life. I don't know what to do with myself." he admits quietly.
"Yeah, she is, haha. Oh, there she's coming back now — や!"
"や!" you returned, giggling.
That was Suguru's 'thing'. It's cuter in real life, seeing how his eyes curve up into a smile when he says it. There are details on his face that you didn't notice through the screen; he has an attractive trio of moles on his lower cheek, and when he smiles the left side of his lips curls up more to reveal some of his upper gum.
Satoru's heart beats a little harder when you sit closer to him. He's thinking;
Yay, 彼女は私の隣に座っています。 She is sitting next to me.
"Suguru, ask her if we're taller than she expected." Satoru asks suddenly. You just hear his voice next to you and it gives you tingles — there was a quality to his voice that only revealed itself in real life. An endearing voice crack accompanies the middle of his sentence.
"Satoru asks if we're taller than you expected." Suguru asks you, habitually resting his chin on the palm of his hand while taking a long sip on his iced tea.
"Yeah! Actually, I was surprised, because I thought you and Satoru were the same height, but Satoru is very slightly taller... " you say.
Satoru is listening curiously, waiting expectantly for Suguru's translation. And then it comes, and Satoru smirks at you.
"Yes." he nods, "(Suguru, how do I say I'm taller?) — I'm taller."
You let out a short and sweet ha-hah that makes even Suguru's heart feel a little something.
Each time you laugh, Satoru's thinking;
私はあなたの笑いが本当に大好きです。 。 。 I really love your laugh.
You three leave the airport for your hotel, so you can check in. It's almost midnight, your plane landed late. Though he thought he'd be tired, considering he's not a night owl like his best friend, Satoru is energetically striding next to you, teasing you and laughing with you and throwing hand gestures to try and communicate better. Suguru's fondly eyeing the two of you out, admiring how your chemistry comes to life so beautifully — this is what his best friend wished about for so long; to be at your side. Now he's getting to truly enjoy your company. The dreamy-eyed exchanges between you and Satoru make Suguru think that the two of you ought to be in a novel one day, with how pure and wholesome your story is unfolding right now.
Though, he can pick up on Satoru's frustrated stuttering when he fails to communicate with you. Suguru doesn't mind being the translator, nor does he mind bridging the gap between the two of you; Satoru's nagging can never bother him.
They help you out when you're checking into reception at the hotel, but then suddenly...
"... oh, that's not good. He said your reservation got cancelled." Suguru tells you.
"What!" you panic, "Why?"
Suguru inquires further for you, and finds out that it's because of overbooking.
So you groan, the three of you walking out of the hotel lobby, standing in the glow of the light coming through its glass doors. Satoru silently offers to take care of your suitcase, attentively noticing how tired you'd become from pulling it around.
"Thank you..." you tell him.
"Mm." he nods.
Suguru is quick to offer that you stay at their apartment. "... if you're comfortable with it. Just for the night, until you can find another booking elsewhere. Or if you want to stay by us for the whole month, that's okay too — just mind the cat."
"Suguru... thank you. I'm sorry to be intrusive."
"You're not being intrusive, don't worry. And anyways, I think Satoru will be excited to know that you're staying with us. He was bummed out when he learned that you were gonna stay at this hotel, since it's a bit far from our apartment."
Satoru looks at the two of you curiously after he hears his name mentioned.
"She's staying with us." Suguru tells him. You quietly appreciate his voice, and how soft it becomes when he speaks to Satoru.
"Yay!" Satoru says with a very cute thumbs up. You can hardly believe that this man is older than you.
"Tell him he's cute." you request to Suguru.
"Tell him yourself." he teases.
"No! That's embarrassing! Ah, never mind."
Satoru already knows what you said, though, his ears picked up on that he's cute and your words repeat in his head like his favorite song while the three of you walk the streets at night. He feels dreamy.
There is something indescribably welcoming about Japan that you realize while heading across the street, looking at the faces passing by. It's clean. The lights glow warm and bright. The buildings stand tall, but not intimidatingly so. When you pass by chattering people, you wish you knew what was being said.
The three of you have to take the train to get to their apartment. While boarding it, a cute little exchange happens between you and Satoru that you can't quite explain, but it makes the two of you laugh shyly and look away.
Now squished into a seat at the very edge, another cute little exchange happens between you and him. Satoru is talking up at Suguru, who opted for holding onto the train handles after giving up his seat for an older woman.
Satoru uses lots of hand gestures even when speaking Japanese, his big hands fly around, dramatizing whatever he's saying — and then he accidentally flattens his palm right on top of the back of your hand.
Satoru's quick to remove his hand and giggle it off, but Suguru is even quicker to let out a teasing "ooh, cute" when it happens, so the two of you get completely flustered.
Satoru's heart thumps and throbs for the whole train ride. You swear you can feel a tension between your hands as they rest palms-flat on the seats, less than an inch away; you can feel his warmth, and he can feel yours.
But then the train ride is over, and before you know it Suguru's thumbing his key into the lock of the apartment door. It rattles, the door opens, and the automatic light comes on in the genkan.
"Just a sec — gonna see where Mint is. Make yourself at home." Suguru tells you quickly, voice shaking as he shimmies out of his shoes, and then he disappears down the hall to find the mentioned cat.
Satoru hears the name 'Mint' and gets the idea of what Suguru said based on that.
He nimbly unlaces his Converse, and leans down to neatly tuck them into the corner of the genkan, purposefully next to your shoes.
Then he straightens his body out, and you two have a small comedic exchange as you both notice the height difference between you and him.
"Uh..." he looks down at you. "Water?" he asks after thinking for a moment.
Your heart lurches at his thoughtfulness. "Yes, please."
"Mhm." he hums self-consciously.
He wonders if his accent sounds weird to you. Suguru's reassured him plenty times in the past that it sounds cute and oddly British, but he doesn't really believe that.
Satoru leads the way into the kitchen, clicking the lights on as he goes. And you follow. Such a simple moment makes him feel fluttery.
And then you drink some water with him in the tiny, cramped kitchen that's much too small to accommodate two people. You wonder how Suguru and Satoru can stand in it at the same time if even you and Satoru can't manage it without bumping elbows. He chuckles apologetically.
Ah, the kitchen scene. What a movie scene it is between the two of you.
"Uhhh..." he seems to be skimming his mind for any piece of English vocabulary, getting nervous as you blink at him, waiting for him to speak.
He holds up one finger, then pulls his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. He's a very simple, yet stylish dresser; jeans and a white shirt that's much too big for him. He is truly so opposite to his best friend's fashion that it makes you smile to yourself. Suguru's quite showy with his style, and you can tell he puts a lot of effort into his hairbun, too. But Satoru? Messy hair, in fact so messy that it looks like bed hair even though he did especially brush it and style it for you.
"Okay..." Satoru mumbles, typing things into his phone. Then he gives it to you, and you look at the screen.
飛行は乱気流でしたか? Was the flight turbulent?
You type your response. He watches you. And oh how he watches you — he looks lovestruck. His eyes are full of wonder. His mind reads like poetry.
He reads your reply when you hand him back his phone.
It was. I realized that I hate airplanes. そうでした。私は飛行機が嫌いだということに気づきました。
He nods. "Scary."
"Yeah." you nod too.
Satoru hesitates.
He's still bitter that Suguru got a hug and he didn't; it's on his mind. He just wants to ask you, but a deep-rooted shyness holds him back.
That is, until you look up at him.
あなたは私を見上げようとしてとても頑張っています。かわいい。 You're trying so hard to look up at me. Cute.
His whole body buzzes with the desire to hug you. He's had dreams of meeting you in person, of hugging you, of kissing you.
The two of you feel your bodies naturally pull together, as if subconsciously desiring to embrace, so it just happens. It just happens.
And you hug and he thinks to himself;
これは私が今まで経験した中で最高の瞬間です。 This is the best moment I've ever experienced.
You can feel his heartbeat and he can feel yours. For a moment, the world around you becomes a dream; and you and Satoru are the only things that truly exist. Everything in the world except your love seems fake, unreal.
You hear him swallow like he's choking up. Then he sniffles a bit.
泣かないで。泣かないで。 Don't cry. Don't cry.
くそー、泣いちゃうよ。彼女はとても柔らかいです Damn, I'm gonna cry. She's so soft.
And you break away to laugh sympathetically, he feels a bit embarrassed.
He's crying so softly that it makes your heart lurch.
Your bodies aren't separate for long, because he dives right back in for another hug in an attempt to quench the thirst from deep within his desirous soul. This time he squeezes tighter; you can feel the tones of his torso and the firmness of his bicep muscles as they press against your sides.
He sniffles again, the sound makes your heart lurch again.
あなたに言いたいことがたくさんあるのですが、どうやって伝えればいいのか分かりません。 There are so many things I want to say to you, but I don't know how.
でも、このハグで私の感情を感じていただければ幸いです。 But, I hope you can feel my emotions in this hug.
And you can; that's how closely connected the two of you feel in that moment. You can feel the emotions radiating from him, permeating throughout the air and seeping into your skin.
You can feel that he likes you. And he can feel that you like him back. It's fascinating to you, because before him you've always been saying I love you and I like you and will you date me? to people, or been on the receiving end of those phrases. But those words are unnecessary for you and Satoru. In fact, they're futile.
If he would say I love you, it would just be an accessory to his already evident love.
Then a sudden embarrassment pries the two of you apart, and you both start giggling to cope with it.
"Sorry... a bit much?" he mutters, half-sure of what he's saying.
"No, not enough." you tell him. He kinda understands what you meant, and feels fluttery. His nose is reddened from crying. He quickly pats his tears off with the base of his hand.
It's like your bodies hate being apart now, you and him can tell by each other's body language. Now at least that's one language both of you became fluent in, despite only being in each other's company for a few hours.
He looks at you. And you flick your brows up and make a funny face, as if to ask him what he's looking at. And he looks away with a bashful laugh, as if to apologize.
The romantic tension is so thick in the air between you two that when Suguru comes back, he feels it hit him like a wave.
おお。さっきまで彼女と一緒にいたとき、世界の存在を忘れていた。 Oh. When I was with her just a moment ago, I forgot the existence of the world.
"That cat is a menace. A menace." Suguru complains.
"What happened?" you ask.
" 'Got scratched." he holds up his hand, showing off the Hello Kitty adhesive across his knuckles. "Anyways, It's late. Are you tired? Satoru's gonna sleep with me, and you can have his room. Unless you want my room. I dunno. You can choose."
"Ooh... I haven't seen your room now that I think about it, except for that one video of you two pillow fighting."
Satoru's already starting to feel a small bit of jealousy and frustration, because he has no idea what you two are talking about.
Suguru's quick to notice this, and translates with a quick tongue.
"Tell her my bed's comfier than yours." Satoru says smirkingly.
"Wow, rude — Satoru says my bed is comfier than his." Suguru lies, refraining from laughing at his own mischievousness.
"Ah, I don't care, I'll be grateful for any bed... ah, actually can I use the bathroom to freshen up a bit?"
"Like I said, make yourself at home."
"Thanks..." you smile.
So Suguru leads the way to the bathroom for you, and you lock yourself in there to freshen up for a while. You sniff your shirt and smile — you smell Satoru's subtle scent on it.
The boys are fussing over the bed situation.
"Don't we have an extra futon stuffed away somewhere, the one Shoko left here?" Satoru thinks out loud.
"Ohhh, you're right." Suguru nods, looking for it.
"Anyways you embarrassed me!" Satoru pouts.
"Haha, did I?" Suguru pulls out the futon from the tippy-top shelf.
"Yeah, earlier you showed off how good you can speak English." Satoru grumbles.
They're softly grunting as they ruffle blankets and pillows.
"Oh, I guess I did. Sorry." he admits, "gosh, maybe if you would have learned a little something in preparation for her visiting then — "
"I did learn stuff! I learned... how to write." Satoru interrupts defensively.
"But why didn't you learn some common phrases?"
"I don't like my accent when I speak, alright." Satoru admits, huffing as he dives into the bed, ruining the artful neatness that Suguru just put so much effort into creating
"Okay, fair enough — oh my god, why would you do that, are you twelve? Oh hey, Y/n." Suguru smiles. "Satoru ruined your bed."
"Oh — two futons? Am I sharing with you or Satoru?"
Satoru rears his head at you from the pillow, looking very cat-like right then with his fluffy white hair. You can tell he's struggling to stay awake as the hour pushes onto two in the morning. He hasn't stayed up this late since he had a video game addiction and played all night with Suguru. Keeping his eyes open was a grand feat.
"No, you get to have two futons." Suguru teases, "Princess treatment."
"Haha, shut up. Be serious."
"Well, you can share with whoever you want or Satoru and I can sleep here together. Whatever you're more comfortable with."
"Didn't you once complain that you hate sharing beds with people?" you giggle.
"Mmm, yeah, but I don't mind if it's with you. Satoru's a cuddler. He also kicks in his sleep."
"That's so cute — well, let's ask — ... hey, I think Satoru fell asleep. Satoru?"
And surely enough, Satoru is asleep; he fell asleep to the sound of your voice without meaning to.
"He's not used to staying awake this late." Suguru tells you, softening his voice so he doesn't wake the cat Satoru.
"That's so sweet. He's really so sweet." you tilt your head admiringly.
You and Suguru are just alone there together, gushing over how cute Satoru looks when he has his cheek squishing into a pillow and his lips pouty and puffy in that sleep-like manner.
A long, nice silence settles in the room. You admit to Suguru that you're feeling a bit too wired to sleep just yet.
"I can stay up with you."
"No, it's okay. You look tired, you should sleep."
"I just always look tired. The night is early, anyways. I usually brood until four in the morning, you know me."
You smile at him, and he has to look away before he swoons. There's a small tension between the two of you, but the both of you force yourselves to ignore it.
The two of you assume a comfortable position on the futons, chatting as if you're not emotional about the fact there's no screen separating the two of you.
"Satoru's never been an insomniac, but in the week leading up to your arrival, he couldn't sleep at all. We'd stand in the kitchen together at midnight, talking about all the things we planned to do when you got here. I've never seen him so excited in a long time... it's really heartwarming to see."
"Really?" you blink at Suguru. He side-eyes you for a prolonged moment, then looks at Satoru who continues to sleep indisturbedly.
"Yeah. You know, he's such an idiot, actually. Because I told him to learn some phrases and instead he learned how to write English."
"That's a start! I mean, look at me, I can barely say a damn thing..." you mutter with lighthearted shame.
"Maybe that doesn't matter at all... I mean, with the kind of chemistry you and Satoru share, there's not much need for words." Suguru says.
You feel your face warm up a bit when he says that. "What do you mean?"
He wiggles his brows. "Oh come on, you know what I mean. I could feeeeel the tension in the kitchen earlier."
"Huh!"
He smirks and begins to tease, "I've never seen two people flirt so much and yet use no words."
You chuckle shyly. "Really...?" you look fondly at Satoru, who's become more curled up by now, face half-hidden under the blanket.
There's a long silence. You're looking at Satoru. Suguru's looking at you as if spellbound. And then he snaps out of it, and reanimates himself.
"Anyways... we should probably get some good sleep if we wanna drag you around on a tour tomorrow. I want your first impression of my home to be how good the food tastes here."
"Ooh, a food tour around Tokyo? Sounds nice. Won't it be too hot tomorrow, though?"
"It'll be fine." he says surely, "Anyways, are you sure you'll sleep here with Satoru? Like I said, he's a cuddler. He will cuddle you in your sleep."
"It's okay. I don't mind." You giggle.
"M'kay, goodnight then."
"Mhm, see you tomorrow." you say, standing with Suguru.
"Wow." he suddenly exclaims when he looks at you.
"Hm?"
Suguru stops on his way out the door, he seems taken aback. "I can't believe you're actually right here. I'm so used to pressing a red button and you vanishing from my screen." he laughs in disbelief.
"Yeah, I'm still a bit in disbelief, too. I feel like I'm in a dream and not standing right in front of you."
Suguru smirks. "Mm... well."
He leans down to hug you, pressing your smaller body against his chest with a lovingness that you never envisioned he would possess.
"Have you ever tried to hug someone in a dream? It's pretty difficult." he jokes.
"N-no, haha." you chuckle nervously against his neck. He feels your laughter on his skin, and pulls away before he lets that tingly feeling spread across his chest.
"Goodnight." he murmurs.
"Goodnight." you mumble back.
You're glad when he disappears into his own room, because you felt like you were melting in his alluring presence. A boy as sultry as that requires you to take a breather.
Satoru draws your attention by letting out a sigh in his sleep. You head into the bed.
Though there's a distance between you two, somehow it closes, and Satoru rolls right over onto your futon.
Oh, he is indeed a cuddler, you think. You feel a warm arm suddenly hugging your waist as Satoru changes position, and you hear sleepy lip smacks; his face is very close. You can feel his sweet, warm breath on your face.
There's a comforting, human intimacy about sharing a bed with him. He's so gentle when he sleeps. His hair falls over his eyes, his lashes shudder as his eyes do that sleepy twitching thing.
He looks angelic.
You wonder what dreams he's having. And well, actually he's having dreams of kissing you. How coincidental that you were staring blinkingly at his pouty lips, wondering just how long it will take for the both of you to just — just kiss.
Roaming his features in the dark, you find aspects of his beauty that you never saw before through the screen. He's got a tiny scar above his eyebrow, that must be the one Suguru told you about — the one he got as a child when he fell out of a tree. You remember making a joke "but I thought cats always land on their feet?" and when Suguru translated that, Satoru laughed.
There's slight freckling under his eyes, and slight indents of eyebags stemming from the inner corner of his eye.
And yes, how could you not admire those lashes. They were more beautiful in person. You could count each one if you wanted to, that's how closely he slept to you.
Listening to his soft breaths nearly lulls you to sleep, but then he suddenly cuddles closer and whines in his dream.
Oh, that's close close, you think.
His torso is pressing completely against your side, his body melting into yours like it was made for you. Two puzzle pieces meant to fit together.
His leg comes over yours, and his muscular thigh nestles between your two thighs. It makes you aware of just how attractively long his legs are.
He completely entrapped you with his sleepy embrace.
The warmth of his gentle breathing tickles your cheek, and the tip of his nose slightly dents into your skin. Now that's when you fall asleep. When he's completely melted against you, snuggled up like a cat.
He stirs awake after a few hours of heavy sleep, and for a split second in that groggy wakeful mind fog, for some reason he thinks he's laying next to his wife. So he squeezes you tenderly and cuddles more affectionately.
Oops, he thinks, and pulls away a little out of embarrassment. But once he falls back into dream land, his body subconsciously goes right back in for those sleepy cuddles.
Now the morning dawns over, and you wake up to two bleary, blinking blue eyes right up close to your face...
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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noneorother · 6 months
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As a film person, this is the most f*cked up thing that happened in all of Good Omens
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Forget about the final 15. If there's anything that should convince you that there's something really wack going on in season 2 of Good Omens it should be this cut. I literally gasped when I saw it for the first time. It's SO BAD from a technical perspective. Because you've probably been watching TV and movies your whole life, you might instinctively feel there's something weird happening with this cut, but not be able to put your finger on what it is.
I am here to tell you: they sacrificed continuity of action to *change the main character of the shot in the middle of the scene*. I won't do a full theory course on filmmaking here, but basically, when you want a fluid-feeling sequence of shots, especially when there's quite a lot of movement on screen, you have to conserve the direction and intention of that action to feel like it's all one take, and time is moving forward like we're used to in real life. Here, Crowley, Maggie and Nina all leave the Bookshop together, with Crowley and Maggie flanking Nina, who is centred in the shot. They are moving towards the camera as the camera is walking backwards, but at a slight curve camera-left. Crowley even turns his head and swings his arm left, making us feel like the camera will keep Nina center, and pan left or even cut wider to see more of the left of the street to watch them cross.
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Well SURPRISE, idiots!
Forget everything you learned in film school because we're cutting immediately to a second medium length shot of the 3 characters from a slightly more camera-right perspective for no reason whatsoever, in the *opposite* direction of where the action is going, WHILE THAT ACTOR IS SPEAKING A LINE. This is so counterintuitive to the blocking of the scene that Maggie literally gets shoved out of frame while we're supposed to be reading her reaction to Crowley's dialogue. I can't stress enough how weird it is on a fundamental level. When a camera is moving and a character is talking, conserving continuity of action is THE ONE thing you don't sacrifice. It pulls people out of the moment, and makes it extra obvious that multiple takes have been stitched together. Which leads me to think that this is intentional, and sets up what I hinted to at the beginning of this whole "The More You Know" moment : Nina is the main character of the scene we're watching, until, suddenly, Crowley is. If you separated those two moments before and after the cut and watch them as two different scenes, you can see the camera following Nina and keeping her center before, but directly following Crowley and keeping him center *after* the cut. We've switched narrators in this moment. And to top it all off, they're making it pretty obvious that, while Nina is listening and reacting to both Crowley and Maggie, Crowley does not give a rat's ass about the two humans (not either not really in frame, or cut off behind him).
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empresskylo · 1 year
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ೃ⁀➷ call of duty incorrect quotes
⋆。°✩ all featuring gn!reader insert ⋆。°✩ AUTHOR'S NOTE | hopefully these aren't cringey lol, i pulled most of them from pinterest. i just thought they'd be fun. let me know if you'd want to see more.
cod masterlist | main masterlist
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soap: *bursts into the room, starts panicking* ghost: you: ghost: what happened? soap: no one died you: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER–
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gaz: have you heard the joke about the gaslighter? soap: no... gaz: no, you definitely have. soap: no I haven't. gaz: you've literally heard it before. soap: no i haVEN'T gaz: yes you have soap: I DON'T KNOW IT?!? gaz: you're crazy, man. ghost: *hiding his smirk* you: *giggling beside ghost*
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soap: I just fell– you: from heaven? soap: no, like I literally just fell– you: in love with me? soap: my fucKING ARM IS BROKEN you: okay, but do you think i'm pretty? be honest.
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you: i sleep with a dagger under my pillow. gaz: weak. I sleep with a gun. ghost: you're both pathetic. you: oh?? and what do you sleep with? ghost: soap. you: *spits out drink*
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you: what are you, 5? konig [snorts]: yeah, 5 heads taller than you. you: konig: konig: I'm sorry, please don't kill me.
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you [on the phone]: uh... price? price [tired]: is the base on fire? you: well...no? price: then it's not an emergency price: *hangs up* gaz: WHAT DID HE SAY? you: he said it's not an emergency. soap [pinned under a cabinet that ghost and alejandro are trying to get off him]: HOW IS THIS NOT AN EMERGENCY
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ghost: i invited you into the woods because I crave the most dangerous game. you and soap [both nodding]: knife monopoly. ghost: i was actually going to hunt you for sport but now i'm interested in whatever the fuck knife monopoly is.
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ghost: *is carrying all the groceries* you: *holds out a hand to help* ghost: *aggressively moves all the groceries to one hand to hold your hand*
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you: can you keep a secret? ghost: do you know anything about my life? you: no, i do not. good point.
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[you and ghost texting] you: where are you? ghost: turn around ghost: no the other way ghost: wrong way again you: ghost, where exactly are you?? ghost: at base, but the thought of you turning aimlessly in circles amuses me.
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soap: go big or go home! you [tears in your eyes]: i am begging you, soap. for once in your life, go home. please. just this once. go home. ghost: *nods in agreement* soap: i'm going big!
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soap: hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers? you: peonies, why? soap: you: were you going to get me flowers? soap: you: soap: it's a possibility...
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you: why are you smiling? price: what? can't I just be happy? soap: gaz tripped and fell in the parking lot.
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ghost: i wish i could block people in real life. you: restraining order. soap: murder. gaz: jesus fucking chr–
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you: so you don't have a thing for anyone at the moment? soap: well... i didn't say that. you: oh. what's she like then? soap: you're just gonna assume they're a 'she'? you: are they– you: are they not a girl? soap: *gay panic*
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ghost: i made tea. you: i don't want tea. ghost: i didn't make tea for you. this is my tea. you: then why are you telling me? ghost: it's a conversation starter. soap [looking between you two, confused] you: that's not really a conversation starter. ghost: oh, it isn't? we're conversing, aren't we? checkmate. you [scoffing]: well it's a lousy one then. ghost: never said it wasn't. you: *looking at soap* soap: *looking at you*
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price: what does 'take out' mean? alejandro: food. gaz: dating. soap: murder. you: it can mean all three if you're not a coward. ghost: soap: gaz: price: you: what?
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ghost: look, i know you think my judgment is clouded because i like soap a little bit. you [holding ghost's notepad]: you doodled your wedding invitations. ghost: no, that's our joint tombstone. you: oh, right, my mistake.
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konig: hello, welcome to our first debrief. konig: today we're talking about... you [whispering]: building loyalty. konig: killing royalty. you [under your breath]: oh my god.
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ghost: i am a very bad person. very very bad person. i am a horrible person. soap: you: gaz: ghost: "no you're not, ghost! we still love you, ghost!"
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mindbreak · 3 months
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tw: noncon, threats baby trapping, yandere gojo x reader, manipulation, satosugu mention, mentions of forced marriage, stalking, light mindbreak mention.
tags: satoru gojo x special grader sorcerer reader
I do not condone any of the acts mentioned in this drabble in real life. Minors Do Not Interact. No Age in Bio Will be Blocked.
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I can't stop thinking about a needy and clingy Yandere Gojo. In the jujutsu world where everyone sees him as a weapon, you being one of the only people who sees him for who he truly is.
Of course, it wouldn't start that way, in the beginning, the two of you would just be really good friends.
You'd be a special-grade sorcerer just like him, joining their little trio during your younger years. You'd understand him when he'd talk about his clan and all the heavy pressure they placed on him and how all of it stripped him of an actual childhood. The both of you laughing together at Geto's bangs while he calls the two of you childish but also butting heads with him from time to time when he took a joke too far.
You'd be the only one to witness him in at his most vulnerable. Watching him with such sad eyes as he sobs to you about Geto leaving him behind. About how he's never felt more alone. You'd try to comfort him by telling him he still had you. It would only be meant as a way to comfort him; for him to see that he wasn't the strongest by himself, that there was still someone who cared for him. And in that moment, he'd probably calm down, and you'd ignore the desperate yet dark look he got in his eyes as he made you promise to never leave him.
Never would you imagine just how much your dynamic would change after that. From him following you around the school grounds, to him randomly popping up on missions with souvenirs. It would seem cute and harmless at first but suffocating as his visits only get to be more frequent and his demands more and more intense.
He'd isolate you from the others, not wanting you to get close to anyone else. He'd also manipulate the hire-ups into keeping you away from the others like Nanami or Haibara. Why would you need to go on missions with them? They were strong enough, and he needed you more. Afterall, special grade sorcerers had to fight the most dangerous of curses! You should be at his side!
His touching would become incessant. He'd be insatiable, greedy. In the beginning it would just be hugs, him needing you to hold onto him but it would gradually get more and more intense, from hungry kisses full of tongue and teeth to him dropping his infinity just to feel the soft skin beneath your shirt.
You'd let it slide for the most part, trying to be empathetic, taking pity on him in such a sorrowful state. But, after years passing his heavy make-outs and one-nightstands would go from stealing your breath away to just suffocating you entirely.
You would tell him you need space and he'd only get worse. Afterall why would you need space from him? Were you planning on leaving?? You couldn't leave!! He'd rather die than live without you!!
He'd get rougher with you then, holding onto you so tight that you could feel bruises forming on your skin beneath his iron clad grip. You didn't need space, if anything, he needed to be around more so that you'd see how much he needed you!
It would get so emotionally draining, until finally you'd up and leave Jujutsu entirely. Or you would try to at least...
"Gojo how did you get my address?" you'd ask him one day as he randomly popped up at your home one day at 3 in the morning with puffy eyes.
And he wouldn't answer, only forcing his way inside, and wrapping himself around you, shaking violently as he keeps you held close in his embrace. He'd be angry at you for leaving, because you promised to stay. You couldn't leave him. He wouldn't allow it. Even if that meant keeping you there by force.
And maybe you'd scream and try to get away for a while as he pushed your body into the floor, but that was okay because once you were carrying his child you'd have no choice but to stay...right? Your clan would be more than happy to marry you off to the strongest modern sorcerer, and your kids would look so cute!
He'd whisper such delusions into your ear while forcing himself inside, covering your mouth with his hands when you tried to protest all while telling you that you'd accept him soon enough and - "Oh you feel so good baby, even better than I imagined."
If you tried to push him off, it would be of no use, he'd just fuck you harder every time you tried to squirm away. Deeper when you try pushing him away. Faster when you beg him to stop.
"I love you...geto.." he'd cry into your ear, clearly in a deluded state while pounding deep into your sex.
He'd kiss you desperately, sucking out all your air as he cums inside you over and over and over again, until finally, your body is too weak to continue on resisting.
And even then, he wouldn't stop. You'd sooner pass out with exhaustion, only to wake up with his arms around you, his face buried in your tummy, as he cries and begs you not to leave him.
It'd be even more twisted when you tell him you don't love him, and the tears come to a sudden halt, and you're uncertain as to whether he's taking a mask off or putting one on in that moment, as he tells you it doesn't matter what you want, because he'll come back anyway. He'll tell you it doesn't matter where you go, or how far you try to run to get away from him, you're his and he'll keep raping you until it's drilled into your mind that you're his.
++ Added bonus if you actually do try to run, and he does in fact keep his promise. Finding you every single time and fucking you on every surface he can reach, until your brain becomes fog and you forget why you ever wanted to run from such a good feeling to begin with.
++ Additional bonus if both your clans actually find out and forces you to marry him for status and power, forcing you to be stuck with him whether you like it or not.
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devoutekuna · 3 months
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Playing with their child
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Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto
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Sukuna-
"Your so stupid!" Shouting at the little girl. "No, you are" retailing at the man, he pair of them were trying to roast marshmallows on the campfire they recently created, though it wasn't going as well as she wanted, normally you'd never let her near an open flame especially despite her father being able to make flames. "Shut up, you take after your mother" refusing to acknowledge that his daughter wasn't the brightest. "Leave mummy alone!" Threatening him with the burnt marshmallow. "Do it then!" He knew she wouldn't do it, she valued her life too much despite knowing that he'd never kill his only offspring.
Nanami-
"That'll be £30" sat, scanning the fake barcode on the bowl of soup. "But I made it, so why can't I get it for free?" Normally he'd never create a fuss with her absurd prices but recently he wasn't having it, she started to charge him the average of £20 for a bag of chips, and most of the time they were half eaten. "No, I made it" taking the bowl out of his hands. "You only added the spoon!" He had to teach her about real life and how stupid this was. "Do you want the food or not!?" Grabbing the spoon as she stored it around as if she was going to eat it. Sighing in defeat, he was hungry and tired from work so he just wanted to eat something. "Here" handing her a £30. "That'll be an extra £10 because of the shouting fee"
Geto-
You couldn't understand why his daughter was so obsessed with tea, maybe because he drank it most days but that still wasn't enough. "Here you go" pouring him a glass of 'tea' it looked a little clear to be the tea he liked, and it was proven as he took a sip. "This isn't tea baby" shaking her head in response as she picked up her own cup. "No, it is tea" unable to hide her smile as she drank the real tea, she had switched the cups so that she got the special drink whilst he only got the water. "But it's okay because you can have a biscuit" handing him the last biscuit on the table. "But I want the tea?" Cocking his head to the side. "It for me" smiling at him as she gulped it down.
Gojo-
"Ow" looking down at the battery powered vehicle which kept ramming into his ankle. "Beep beep!" Honking the horn at him, he didn't understand why his son couldn't just drive around him, they were in the open. "Go around" "NO! Your blocking my road" noticing the small toys aligned up in the shape of a racecourse. "What road!?" "This road!" Running over the man's foot "Ow!" They argued like siblings rather than father and son, kicking over the boy's car with a reflex. "MUMMY!"
Toji-
"Give me the money" motioning for her to put it in his hand. "No, you owe me 25!" Crossing her arms as she laid down, she wasn't willing to give up the £5 she got from the bank, it was stupid really as she was just being petty. "That was last week!" The three of you were currently playing monopoly, it never ended well so you didn't understand why you kept doing it, they always argued about the money which normally lasted around 5 minutes. "You owe me 25!" Screaming at the poor man, literally. "I'll pay you back when you give me the money!" That's what he always said you weren't surprised he was in debt before you two got married.
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Just Friends
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pairing: beomgyu x reader
summary: Just friends, just friends. That's all there is, all there's ever been but have you really ever been just friends?
warnings: gn reader, dom reader, sub beomgyu, thigh riding, handjob, lots of groping, car sex, mentions of masturbation, possibly more that i forgot
word count: 2.2k
a/n: writer's block is so real, i literal pulled this out of a sleep-deprived haze at 4 in the morning so feedback would be appreciated<3
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Just friends. He tells himself over and over again.
Just friends. You tell yourself over and over again.
But friends don't do things like this on rainy nights in the back of your car. With your windows fogging up and the only light coming from a lone streetlight from the corner of the parking lot.
Friends don't clutch his hips, grinding him down against your thigh. Friends don't pant heavily at the feeling of his fingernails digging deep into the skin of your shoulders almost hard enough to draw blood.
At least they shouldn't.
But maybe you and Beomgyu have never really been 'just friends'.
"God," but it's never gone this far before. "Don't stop, please, don't stop!"
Sure there's been teasing touches and lingering looks, meaningful conversations that maybe meant more than either of you had wanted to admit.
But you hadn't expected it to go this far.
To have him clinging to you. To have his lips all over your neck and your hands all in his hair.
To have his pants discarded somewhere in the back along with his boxers in your haste...
To have his dick rubbing against the rough material of your jeans. To have him sobbing into your ear to not stop, to never stop, that he'll die without your touch.
You suppose your best friend has always been a touch dramatic.
If you could even call him that anymore-your best friend.
"Don't worry baby," every nerve ending in his body feels like it's on fire. His ears feel like they're ringing, replaying your words over and over like a broken record. "I won't."
It feels so good, it hurts so bad.
Tears stream down his face from both-from everything. From you calling him baby like he's yours. With so much affection and adoration, like he's the most important thing in the world to you right now.
Like he isn't shaking against you, crying out like some kind of wounded animal (in heat), thinking or maybe even muttering how he can't get enough, how it'll never be enough, how he wants you so bad, how he'll die before he lets you go.
Your hand guides his lips to yours, soft and sweet and hungry. Devouring every one of his whines up and replying with your own want for more, kissing him like your life depends on it. You'd always thought that he'd sound pretty, but not this pretty, not this pathetic or needy.
"Fuck, Beomgyu."
Your mouth clashes against his over and over, saliva dripping down his chin as he tries and fails in trying not to drool. You're too preoccupied in nipping at his lips that you're faintly aware of his hands slipping under your shirt until they're on your chest, squeezing and exploring everything he's only fantasized of.
He hasn't felt this good before. Ever. Not from past partners or from his own hand. Toys feel like nothing compared to this, the unforgiving bite of denim somehow lightyears better than vibrators and dildos and whatever else he's used to replicate your touch.
The friction makes him feel like he's burning but his hips just rut faster. He wishes it was your skin, soft and comfortable and you-but he doesn't think he can be patient enough. Doesn't think he can find it in himself to let go of you long enough for you to take your pants off. He has his nose in your hair and the taste of you on his tongue, and he can't stop now.
He can't stop. Not when he's wanted this for so, so long.
Okay, so maybe you've never truly been 'just friends'.
Well, maybe before that first time you were out at a party together and a friend of a friend approached Beomgyu, trying to talk him up while you stood right next to him.
Before you'd watched, something ugly simmering in the pit of your stomach that you couldn't fully decipher-that you weren't sure you wanted to decipher.
It was only until Beomgyu shot you a pleading look that you were able to keep your cool and then you'd very kindly told that friend of a friend to back the fuck off and leave the two of you alone.
And maybe, just maybe Beomgyu had gone home that night and let his hand wander past his waistband to wrap around his aching cock.
Jesus christ.
With each stroke of his hand he conjured your image in his mind. It was you looking at him, watching him-touching him. Talking to him in that same cold, mean voice you had talked to that friend of a friend.
Hating him and loving him all in one, rough and cruel but soft and caring. He wanted all of it, all of you.
And then afterwards it was basking in an afterglow of remembering the way that your eyes softened once again when they landed on him and your hand touched his shoulder and you asked if he was okay.
Friends do this...right? He'd thought, not ready yet to admit that maybe it was something more.
Just friends that brought you to his apartment a few weeks later, slightly ashamed and very drunk and looking for some kind of comfort after you'd been out drinking for better part of the night.
Just friends that had your hands all over his body and your lips all over his throat, sloppy wet kisses making his head spin and his body heat up. That'd had you shoving him down onto the couch and climbing on top of him, pushing your knee between his legs as your cold hands slithered up his shirt in search of warm, smooth skin to lay claim on as yours.
Just friends with the way that you promptly passed out on top of him and conveniently remembered nothing of the night before. Of groping your best friend, of telling him how pretty he was, of whispering that he was a good boy.
'I want you.'
'You're so pretty.'
'Perfect.'
'My good boy.'
'Mine.'
Friends don't know the way his moans sound. Or the way his skin feels against yours.
Like tonight,
A movie. That was all it was supposed to be.
Platonic. Friends. Just going to see a movie together, get dinner after. Nothing more.
"Touch me! G-od, please touch me!" His hand flies up, fingers dig into your wrist as he pulls it down between his legs, his dick throbbing and needy.
It feels so much better-your hand-your skin, your fingers loosely wrapping around him, teasingly rubbing at the tip. "And why should I baby? Have you been good? Have you been a good boy?"
He doesn't know.
He doesn't knowHe doesn't knowHe doesn't know.
All he knows is you.
Just friends shouldn't let things get to this point.
...Oh well.
A movie. A quiet theatre. Darkness and eyes all too often glancing at the profile of the other.
A tension palpable in the air as fingers brushed against each other to grab popcorn. Hands aching, itching to hold each other. An agonizing one hundred and twenty minutes.
Nothing though.
Only getting into the car afterwards and driving off.
"What do you want to eat?" He only shrugs in reply and you roll your eyes. "Helpful."
"Well I dunno," he thinks, "the usual? I can place an order to your place and we should get back before it gets there."
You hum in reply. "It's late though, you planning to stay over for the night?"
"...Sure."
Hesitation. He can only think of the last time you stayed the night. So long ago now, he'd avoided either of you spending the night at the others ever since. From fear? From preservation? Or from hoping that your frustration would break the dam first.
'I want you.'
'Mine.'
Words that flash through his mind unbridled. Sounds and touches that flood his brain
'My good boy.'
He swallows, trying to keep his eyes on the screen of the phone. Trying to hope the darkness blankets how red his face has turned.
"Hey could you pull over here?"
"Sure?" You'd glanced over at him and the question on your face evident.
He didn't elaborate though and you didn't ask.
You'd pulled into a mostly empty parking lot. Only a few cars left in front of a grey, drab building. Parked beside a flickering streetlight that continued for a few minutes before doing out completely. Certainly the furthest thing from being romantic by any means.
Nothing specific broke the tension, the unspoken rules.
But the next thing the either of you know is he's on your lap clawing at you aimlessly, pure desire fuelling him to do such pathetic things. Like telling you how horny he is and how bad he needs you.
You don't seem to have any problem with his confession though.
Responding in turn rather appropriately you'd think. And then your lips are against his and you're tugging at his clothes and touching his body like he's your last lifeline.
And then you're in the backseat of the car, his pants and boxers discarded into the back, your lips curled into a smirk against his skin.
And then you're here.
Doing things that friends certainly should not be doing.
"M' a good boy, promise! Please, I'll be your good boy!"
You'd imagined how his face would look all fucked out all but a million times in the dead of night, thinking about things you certainly should not have been thinking about.
But you'd never know that your imagination would do absolutely no justice to the real thing.
To his lips slick with your spit and his skin glowing with a sheen of sweat. Eyes fluttering like he's fighting to merely keep them open with every sensation he's feeling.
"Pretty~" you mutter.
Bite marks and hickeys all over his neck and collarbone-good thing it's nearly scarf season. Or bad thing, you're not sure you want him to hide these or if you want him to parade them around, show off your claim to him to everyone.
"So fucking pretty it's not fair-" a high, needy whine climbs up his throat and he lets it, because you don't even have to say it, he knows how much you love hearing how good you make him feel.
His eyebrows tug together as if in concentration. Concentration to stay sane while you let him fuck into your hand.
You trail a finger over his cheekbone, collecting a tear while everything within him tries not to let this end, because it can't be over yet, he doesn't want it to be over yet and he's not sure he can go again until later-if there is a later.
You lick the tear off your finger and his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head. "Not fucking fair to make me wait this long. Such a tease, such a whore."
Fingers press against his lips and he opens with zero hesitation. This is what you want, this is what he wants-more than anything.
You pull them out all too soon and replace your fingers with your tongue, letting him suck it into his mouth with a moan.
Your grip tightens, your hand moves faster and faster and his toes curl. Too much, too much-he can't...it can't, he doesn't want this to be over-
"No!"
His head falls into your neck with a strangled scream as he cums into your hand, staining your jeans and his shirt. You stroke him still to prolong the pleasure, milking him dry of everything he has before he lets out the first whine of protest and you stop.
"Please,"
His breath comes out in rushed pants, his head a jumbled mess of "more, please more-" followed by incoherent babbles and then, finally, "I can go again, wanna...wanna go again. Just...use me, use me however you want." as his hips work still, even if it only works against what he really wants, releasing pained whimpers all the while from the self-inflicted overstimulation.
You smile and he can practically hear it before he's flipped into his back, spread out and pinned against the slightly uncomfortable seats of your car as you press apart his legs, eyes roving over him before beginning to undo your pants.
"Use you, huh baby?"
Yes.
However you want. Use him however you want. That's all he wants. All he's wanted for so long.
The pads of your fingers press against his thigh, too close and he squirms with oversensitivity.
"We'll still be friends after this though right?"
He lets out a noise between a cry and an affirmation, eyes sliding shut as your body presses against his.
"Friends!" He gasps.
Your fingers lace together. You smile.
"But not just friends now are we...?"
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a/n: y'all please forgive me if this is absolute bullshit. i feel like i haven't written anything for real in forever and i feel like rusty now lol. but lmk what you think (to possibly give me inspo to write more lol😭)
my taglist is here if you wanna be added: @hobihearteu, @lemonhongjoong, @laylasbunbunny, @xcookiemonsteer, @hahagay, @maru-matt, @d7dream, @amidstnamjin-and-binchanlix,
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You said you'd stay with us (you swore you'd still be you)
absinthe makes the heart grow fonder - series masterlist here
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pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)
length: 1.5k
genre: rockstar au !! fluff, hurt/comfort
warnings: drummer reader, some real 'where does the performance end and you begin' vibes, reader smokes, it's inferred that they're also drinking, y'all will have to pry bestie peter from my cold dead hands
a/n: oh uuuuuh more pining more yearning more I'm in love with you but I'm too afraid to make it real. like what if you were all in a band and you were all in love and you were all too scared of fucking it all up to say anything
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"You're looking awful glum tonight," James points out as he leans against the railing of the balcony you're on. He doesn't reprimand you for sitting on the railing, but he does frown as he glances down to where the ground is, inching closer to you to place a firm hand on your thigh.
"I called the car around - I'm going back to the hotel. You can let the others know if they notice," you respond in a sigh, the smoke leaving your lungs on the exhale as you bring your cigarette to your lips for another drag.
"…Are you sober right now, love?" James asks, eyeing you carefully. You look at him bemusedly.
"You think I came to a party after our show and… didn't have a single drink?"
"Well…" he says carefully. You narrow your eyes and James grips your thigh a little tighter - a plead for you to hear him out. "You weren't exactly the life of the party tonight, lovely. You disappeared pretty quick. If you have been drinking, that means you've been doing it out here - alone, sitting very precariously on a very high balcony, with no one looking out for you." You've stopped looking at him, keeping your eyes trained on the expansive driveway out front of whoever's house this is. When you see your car pull up, you put out your cigarette easily on the railing before sliding off of it, letting James keep a hand firmly on you, sliding from your thigh up to your waist.
"I don't need a babysitter, James," you say bluntly, but you can't help but soften a bit at the wide, sad eyes he gives you, his bottom lip jutting out slightly. You wonder idly if he realizes he looks at you so often like he's a puppy you've just kicked. "I'll see you tomorrow for rehearsals," you offer gently before you slip away.
In the safety of the backseat of your car, tinted windows blocking out the gaze of the outside world, you let your head lean back against the seat, sighing and closing your eyes as you rub at your temples. The relief is short-lived, however, as the car door is pulled open and James slides into the seat next to you, grinning despite the glare you sent him.
"Didn't really think I'd let you go sit at the hotel sulking all night, did you?" He quips. You bristle.
"I don't sulk," you huff. His smile widens as the car pulls away.
"Sure you don't, sweetheart." He throws an arm around your shoulders and you let him, sighing as you lean against him, resting your head against his chest. "You wanna tell me what's going on?" He asks gently.
"Nothing," is your quick reply. He hums thoughtfully, running a hand through your hair gently.
"Wanna try again?" He's still gentle, a patience seeping from him into you that lulls you as you relax further against him.
"It's just a lot sometimes. I'm tired is all," you admit. James presses a kiss to the crown of your head and your heart does something funny in your chest.
"You're allowed to take a break every now and then, love," he offers. You tense.
"I don't need -"
"No, but you still can," he placates, smoothing his hand over the back of your head as he silently coaxes you into relaxing once more. "I know you don't need to. God knows you'll run on fumes forever and never say a thing about it. But you don't need to - not here, not with us."
James, in all his mother-hen nature, continues to reprimand you in that gentle, caring way of his all the way up to your hotel room, only stopping when you shut yourself in the bathroom and turn the tap on so that you can't hear him. By the time you come out in clothes that are decidedly much more comfortable than what you'd been wearing at the party, he's lounging in your bed and flipping idly through TV channels.
"Oh, sure, make yourself at home," you quip as you flop onto the bed next to him, leaning against the headboard. James grins in that beaming way that he's so fond of, turning the TV volume down to a low, background hum.
"Thanks, love." You scoff at his words.
"Are you planning on staying here all night?" You ask wearily. He pretends to think about it.
"What will you do if I leave?" You shrug, sliding further down in bed and crossing your arms. James opens his mouth to speak and you know he's going to say something about you sulking, so you make a point to wack him with a pillow before he can. He laughs good-naturedly about it, though, so you're not so sure what you've accomplished.
Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, you don't have time to ponder it further before your hotel room door is swinging open and Sirius is flouncing into the room, Remus trailing in after him. You sigh and look at Remus imploringly, but he only shrugs, leaning towards you to squeeze your shoulder in what you're sure is supposed to be comforting before he settles in the armchair next to the bed. Sirius, on the other hand, takes to flopping directly across the bottom of the bed, landing on James's legs and causing some sort of friendly tussle between the two of them.
"This is actually my hotel room, you know," you point out dryly. "How did you even get in here?"
"You gave Peter your spare key," Remus points out.
"Peter doesn't come in unannounced," you shoot back. Sirius and James stop whatever roughhousing they're caught up in so that Sirius can lean over and press a sweaty kiss to your cheek. You click your tongue in annoyance and hope it hides the way your heart flips.
"Cheer up, doll," Sirius says, unperturbed by your scowl. "What were you playing at, anyway? Leaving without telling any of us and thinking we wouldn't notice? Like we wouldn't miss our favourite drummer." You shoot James a look that says you shouldn't have told them and he smiles disarmingly.
"Just because I'm staying in tonight doesn't mean you all have to - and I'm your only drummer, Sirius, in case you've forgotten," you say icily. Sirius smiles, but it's more honest than you're used to, and he reaches across James to smooth a thumb over your cheek quickly before pulling back.
"Could never forget you, love. Not even if I tried." You stare at him, his tone heavier than normal, as Remus shifts and clears his throat.
"Anyway, dove… we just want to make sure you're alright, yea?" He says, and you exhale a breath you didn't know you were holding as the tension dissipates. 
"Everything's fine," you say stubbornly. "I just didn't really feel like being there tonight."
"Well, we can see that," James chimes in. "But you always go to these things. You -"
"I know, I know, ok? I won't - it won't happen like that again, all right?" You huff. "I won't leave like that."
"No, see, I'm not sure you're understanding what Jamie's saying, love," Sirius says, the softness in his voice making your heart drop. It takes a lot for Sirius to be gentle, and he only does it when he thinks he really needs it. "What we're saying is that you don't have to. Pete never goes to the parties - we haven't kicked him out of the band yet, have we?"
"But that's different," you sigh, sitting up straighter. "Pete and I… are different kinds of performers. You know that." Remus leans forward in his chair to put a hand on your knee and you will yourself not to flinch at the contact, not to shy away from the kindness in his eyes that you know he reserves for the people he really loves.
"You don't have to perform here, love," Remus says gently. "You don't have to do that. Not here, not when it's just us." Your bottom lip trembles and you bunch the covers of the bed in your hands.
"Sometimes I think, for you lot, this life is fun… and for me, it's still work. I just can't make myself see it the way you guys do."
"But that's what we're here for," James offers, his voice kind. "Let us help you out. We decided to do this together for a reason, right? You decided to stick with us for a reason."
"I… I did, yea," you say.
"Yea," Sirius repeats. "So let us be here, alright?" Remus rubs his thumb across your knee as the other two look at you expectantly. You smile, a terse, small sort of thing - but it works nonetheless.
"Alright," you sigh. "Together, then."
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consoledacup · 3 months
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In order to fully understand Colin's reaction to the Lady Whistledown reveal and how he processes everything moving forward, you have to think about the entire season, the entire series really, through his point of view. I have no problems with the part 1/2 split. It made the anticipation that much more intense, and it worked out perfectly with their love story. But you can't separate one part from the other when you're thinking about his character.
In Colin's mind, the end of episode 4 is his happily ever after. That's it. He did it. He took action. He was the Cupid to her Psyche and played god and rescued her from a loveless match. He made shit happen and told her how he felt and they shared that moment in the carriage, and he gleefully proposed. He saved the girl and got the girl, and what a remarkable, enchanting, beautiful girl she is.
And aside from Eloise and Cressida, everyone's obsessed with their relationship. They're the true love match with a great story, and how lucky he is to fall in love with his best friend. And she's showing hints of unease, but maybe that's just wedding jitters. Or maybe she's mourning her relationship with Eloise which is why he keeps trying to get them to make up. Or maybe she doesn't feel as secure with him as she would've with Debling, even though she'd never tell him that. He is the third son after all. And he still has no idea how in love with him she is.
So when she tells him how she's always loved him, he's warmed but also wracked with guilt. Because if he had only taken his stupid head out of his ass, he would've figured out why her letters meant so much to him or why he was eager to participate in an investment with her family or why her lack of response the past summer devastated him. He thought he was the instigator of their love. He's the one who laid himself bare and was like, is it possible you feel a fraction of what I feel for you? And to find out that she did always love him made him feel so undeserving. Because why would this exquisite siren still want anything to do with him after all that he put her through?
There is an incredible scene that I think deserves a lot more gravitas. The minute Penelope mourns Lady Whistledown and burns her issues, it cuts to Colin getting over his writer's block as he writes with great enthusiasm. It's like, he's unknowingly siphoning her power. He is Cupid and a writer and her protector and her provider and so madly in love. And he will finish his manuscript, and he will make things right with Penelope and Eloise. And he and Penelope will have the perfect life together.
And then everything he thought he knew about Penelope, about friendship, about love, is completely shattered. She rips his power from him, and he is absolutely gutted. She has been the mastermind this entire time, and he was none the wiser. And what part of their love story was even real? At which point was he manipulated into doing what she wanted him to do? And while he was helping her with her confidence, and telling her how changed of an individual he was, she not only saw through him but broadcasted his insecurities to the entire ton?
He's still so desperately in love that he remains steadfast in marrying her. But he cannot get over his fury and hurt and betrayal at that point. Which makes so much sense. It's painful to see him lash out and withdraw from her, but he's absolutely reeling.
And on top of all that, he is humiliated. He thinks about everything she said about his own writing. She told him how he made it seem effortless, which is such a great compliment. And he's like, I don't want you to edit my manuscript because I want to prove to you that I'm worthy of you. And he might be thinking, I can even give her some pointers for her own writing! What fun we'll have with more lessons. To find out that she's the talented, sharpest, most prolific writer in the ton fully emasculates him. He feels like she was patronizing him all along.
He brings that part up, and she's like, no, I meant everything I said about your writing. But he doesn't believe her and immediately switches the conversation to her dangerous predicament, so he can at least, at the very least, offer himself up as her protector. It worked before when he danced with Penelope after Cressida ruined her dress, when he rescued Marina from Rutledge, when he helped save Daphne's reputation, when he saved Penelope's family from Cousin Jack, when he helped save Will's business, when he kissed Penelope, when he saved her from the balloon, when he defended her to her mother... If he can't be the provider, he can be the protector. And she doesn't even want that from him. She's the knight in shining armor. She's Don Quixote. Not him. Never him.
So he is grappling with his role in their union. He figures it out, but it takes him a little bit to get there. And in the process, he not only remains in love with Penelope the entire time, but he also falls head over heels for Lady Whistledown.
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niningtori · 2 months
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cruel intentions | part two
part one
pairing: choi beomgyu x you
summary: in the wake following the revelation that your boyfriend, beomgyu, only dated you for a bet in order to get his rent paid, you're actually doing pretty well. on beomgyu's end? he can't say the same.
genre: romance, angst, melodrama, fluff
warnings: clichés everywhere
word count: 3.8k
notes: she's here! i fear that this might be super corny and somewhat abrupt but that's fine i think!
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beomgyu is not okay. he really, really isn’t. how could anyone expect anything other than that? it’s been a year since he saw you last, but he’s starting to believe that whoever said time heals all wounds was just blowing smoke up his ass. if anything, the longer he’s spent away from you, the worse his heart aches. that’s natural, he supposes, because you’re definitely the one that got away, and the fact that he drove you to leave only twists the knife. he wishes he could go back to the day he agreed to that stupid fucking bet and wring his own neck — maybe that'd talk some sense into his old self. but like you said all that time ago, he can’t. he even wishes he could go back to the first day of freshman year just so he could meet you sooner. that way, he could have been in your life and alleviated some of the stress and pain you always felt. but, and he cannot stress this enough, he can’t.
you may have blocked him on everything he can think of, but that doesn’t stop him from asking about you. luckily, taehyun made good on his intentions to get to know you better before realizing that you were the girl beomgyu had secretly been dating for months. as a good friend, taehyun declared you as totally off-limits, but that didn’t stop your all’s friendship from blossoming. as it is, your friendship with taehyun is only rivaled by your friendship with chaeyoung — a fact that she is all too aware of.
“when are you gonna stop beating around the bush and just get with him already?” she pouts.
“never,” you snort. “i told you, we’re friends and nothing else.”
“i know, i know, but i think he’d be good for you,” she insists.
“you’re only saying that ‘cause you’re worried he’ll replace you as my best friend, which he won’t, by the way,” you tease.
“you caught me,” she says playfully. 
truthfully, your friendship with chaeyoung has only strengthened after graduation. with the help of your therapist and a certain someone whose name you can’t bear to speak these days, you finally grew enough courage to tell her how you’ve felt like you were nothing more than her shadow since you were a preteen. you even told her about all of the times men (and women alike) only talked to you to get to her. to say she was horrified is the understatement of the century. after endless reassurances that you bore no ill will towards her and didn’t fault her for anything, she finally stopped apologizing. now, you two are closer than ever. 
“it’s just… i want to see you happy with someone,” she adds. she doesn’t have to end her sentence with  “again”, since you already know what she means: she wants to see you as happy as you were with beomgyu, again. except, for real this time. not for a bet or for fun.
“it’s okay, chae,” you say with a smile. “i’m happy as i am, i mean it.” and you do. working in your desired career field has helped you tremendously with income, and you’re actually able to provide for yourself and for your family without killing yourself with working overtime. you have so much free time, you're even able to date around a little bit. it never amounts to anything particularly serious, but it’s enough as it is. gone is the permanent storm cloud looming over your head and you’re finally able to breathe for the first time since, well, your relationship with beomgyu.
“i know,” she replies. “i just want my best friend to be even happier; is that so bad?” you roll your eyes good naturedly and she grins. 
“who knows? maybe i’ll meet someone tonight,” you muse, but you don’t really mean it. taehyun, or “tyun” as you affectionately call him, is having a get together at his place. he hinted at bringing some of his single friends, but you don’t expect anything to come of it. while it’s true that with the help of therapy and being completely honest about the nature of your inferiority complex with your best friend has helped boost your confidence, you never expect much from prospective romantic partners. you’ll never say it, but everyone knows it’s because of beomgyu.
“maybe. y’know, soobin is pretty cute,” she says with a nod, taking everything you say way too seriously. 
“yeah. he is.” 
-
while you have been to many, many events taehyun has invited you to, there has always been an unspoken rule that beomgyu would not be there. it seems that taehyun is able to perfectly juggle you two without having you all appear at the same place at the same time. that is, until you arrive at his apartment with a big smile and a 12-pack of beer and see the man who haunts you religiously sitting listlessly on taehyun’s couch. he doesn’t usually care enough to look up from his drink when new arrivals step foot through the door, but for some odd reason, he does when you walk in. it’s almost as if his truly supernatural intuition tells him to. unfortunately for you, his intuition is a pain in your fucking ass. 
when you meet eyes (lock eyes, really) you feel a pit of dread bloom in your stomach, threatening to swallow you whole. still, there’s a light fluttering of your heart that you wish to god you could deny, but it’s there, nonetheless.
you all stay in a deadlock for what feels like a lifetime before taehyun pulls you from it with a smile and hug.
“i’m glad you made it,” he says lightly. 
“of course, tyun,” you smile, successfully pulled out from your daze and back into the real world. it’s okay. you can do this. you’re a different person now that a year has passed. you’re mature enough to be in the same place as beomgyu. what you’re not mature enough for, though, is actually having to speak to him. luckily, you have no plans to do so now (or ever). 
beomgyu thinks… differently. 
when you’re standing in a quiet corner nursing a drink and wondering what the hell you’re still doing here, you almost miss the sound of feet shuffling towards you. your eyes lazily glance up and see beomgyu himself unsurely leaning against the wall next to you. 
“h-hey,” he says softly, cautiously. you look confused for a second, almost like you’re unsure if he’s addressing you, but his eyes look so earnest, there's no way he’s not. 
“hey?” you reply before fussing with your cup and watching the alcohol swirl around, threatening to spill over the rim of your solo cup.
“uh, how… how have you been?” he asks so nervously that it sounds like he’s surprised that you even responded. and he is. if he were you, he wouldn’t give himself the time of day. why would he? he doesn't deserve it.
“good,” you say with a ghost of a genuine smile. if he knew you less, he wouldn’t even be able to catch it. thankfully, he does know you, for better or for worse. his heart sings at the thought that you’re able to smile at him like you did before.
he waits for you to ask him how he is — that’d be the perfect segue into his apology — but you don’t. it’s like you don’t care to know, and any tune his heart was previously singing is strangled in an instant.
well, he supposes that he’s lucky that you’ve even said two words to him (two words in the literal sense that you’ve only actually said two words in total, but that's not the point). he’s even luckier that you actually seem to mean that you’re doing well. taehyun had told him as much, but it’s not nearly as effective as seeing you glowing the way you do with his own eyes. you look normal. you look happy. there was a point in his life where he thought that’s all he wanted, but he realizes he was wrong. he shamelessly wants to be happy, too, and he knows the only way he can do that is if he’s with you.
the air is awkward and heavy for a few minutes, but neither of you make a move to break it until you decide enough is enough. you purse your lips and are about to bid him goodbye so you can get home and ruminate on your very, very brief interaction, but he notices your movement and reaches out to grab your arm before he can stop himself. instinctively, you smack his hand away. not hard at all, more like a swipe than a smack, really, but he recoils as if you’ve just backhanded him.
“s-sorry,” you stammer. “it was just a gut reaction.” 
somehow, that makes him feel even worse. there was a time where his touch soothed you like nothing else, but now all it does is put you on your guard. 
“it’s fine,” he says with a forced smile, and your heart aches. “i was just gonna see if you wanted a ride home. i haven’t drank anything, so i just thought that… maybe…”
“oh, it’s okay,” you politely decline. “chae is going to pick me up.” he flinches at the name and as much as he wishes you couldn’t tell, you definitely do. 
“but i can take you!” he insists a little too desperately. “i just thought, you know, that we could talk or something,” he mumbles. 
“talk? about what?” you ask sharply. you begin feeling like you’re going to lose your temper. why is he making this so hard? it’s starting to piss you off.
“i—”
“if you’re going to apologize to me again, i don't want to hear it,” you sneer. you said you weren't mad at him and that you forgave him, which felt true at the time, but the more you started respecting yourself, the less patience you had for him. as you look at him, looking like he's every part like a victim in this ordeal, you realize that you’re angrier than you previously let on. “you know, i’ve thought more about what you did.” he looks like he’s just been kicked in the stomach, but you don't stop.
“and i’ve thought about what i would do for rent. i thought, ‘well, maybe if i were desperate enough for the money, i could do that, too’, and you know how desperate i was.” his lips tremble because he does know. he knows it all too well. “but i realized i couldn’t, and even if i could, i never would. the shame? the humiliation? i would never put someone through that, and i thought you would never, either, but i was wrong. i was wrong about you and the kind of person you are, or were, or whatever. and i thought, at the very least, you had enough decency to at least leave me the fuck alone, but i guess i was wrong about you again, as always.” you don’t mean for your voice to get so loud, but it does. each syllable is ripping through beomgyu like a punch to his gut, but he can’t find it within himself to defend his actions. all he can do is sit there and take it. 
devastated doesn’t even begin to encapsulate how beomgyu looks and feels, but you don’t really give a shit. you’re absolutely fuming right now, nearly shaking from releasing the anger you’ve felt for months, and he has the nerve to look like the one who’s hurt? what about you? what about how you felt when your boyfriend admitted he only dated you because he needed (more like wanted) the cash?
“babe…” you hear a familiar voice say. chaeyoung. she must be here to pick you up. your attention snaps from her to the rest of the room and you finally register that everyone has gone silent, all their stares directed towards you. embarrassed isn’t even the word. mortified is more like it. you awkwardly clear your throat and take one last scathing glance at beomgyu before grabbing chaeyoung’s arm and storming outside of taehyun’s place.
the ride home is silent — unsettlingly silent — until chaeyoung pipes up after a few minutes of driving.
“why don’t you just talk to him?” chaeyoung asks tentatively.
“what?!” you exclaim, whipping your head around to meet her gaze. 
“it’s just — i mean, i don’t think it would hurt anything if you tried,” she says cautiously, which is very, very much unlike her. 
“why? i thought you, of all people, would understand. you know what he did to me.”
“i’m not defending him, honey,” she coos, as if she’s soothing a child during a tantrum. “i’m always on your side. always.”
“then why are you saying i should hear him out? i thought you hated him!” you don't really know why, but you’re becoming more and more defensive as you speak to her. 
“i did hate him. i just think there’s more to it than that. why don't you talk me through how you’re feeling?” she suggests.
“i… i just don’t understand. i’m not who i used to be — i’m not some spineless doormat who lets people treat me like shit. don’t you think so?” you ask, sounding increasingly unsure about that sentiment to the point where it’s nearly laughable. 
“what does that have to do with hearing somebody out when you clearly want to?” she argues patiently.
“it’s just… it’s just not fair!” you exclaim. “it’s not fair how he used me. i had to try so fucking hard to rebuild myself after him.”
“as much as i love you, you and i both know you weren’t rebuilding yourself; you never had that foundation in the first place, and that’s not your fault, but it’s not beomgyu’s, either. it’s true that he treated you like shit, and you don’t have to forgive him for that, but how you felt about yourself was always so much bigger than him.”
you find yourself recoiling with each point she makes.
you hate how much she makes sense. 
“b-but still, i’m different now,” you argue, more like you’re convincing yourself instead of her. “i won’t let myself fall back into him like that.” 
“don't you trust yourself to make the right decisions? people change — you know that better than anyone. look, i’m not saying you have to or should do anything, but i think it’d be good for you to at least listen to him. you’re not doing yourself any favors by torturing yourself with ‘what if’s’ instead of just, well, talking to him.”
-
you think about it, and think about it, then think about it some more. you wonder what beomgyu could say to change anything he's done before realizing that it's impossible. but maybe chaeyoung's right, maybe he did change. does that matter, though? probably not, but you still find yourself wanting to know what he has to say. maybe you'll find it within yourself to finally let him go.
you unblock his number and, before you can think too much about it, you’re calling him. it doesn’t ring more than once before you hear the line connect.
“h-hello?”
“i’ve thought about it, and i'd like to talk.” 
“s-sure. uh, when?” he stammers.
“whenever.”
“i'll be there in 15,” he hurriedly says, as if wasting a single second will lead you to change your mind.
“okay,” you reply with a soft smile on your face, hanging up shortly thereafter.
12 minutes later, you hear a frantic knocking on your door. you open it to find beomgyu out of breath and looking incredibly disheveled. your lips almost curl up at his sorry state, but they don’t quite make it there.
“hey,” he says between pants.
you don’t respond, but you crack your door open further to let him in. he takes your cue and stands awkwardly in your living room, almost as if he’s afraid to actually touch anything. you don’t miss the way he takes everything in. some of the interior is different, but the bones of it are still the same. he doesn't know why, but the thought relieves him.
“so?” you ask after clearing your throat, effectively breaking the silence. he looks at you confusedly before seeming to remember what he’s doing here.
“r-right. i’m— i mean, i just wanted to explain,” he says meekly. 
“explain what?” 
“explain why i, uh, why i d-d—”
“dated me for a bet?” you finish, and mercifully so, because the words feel like nails when they try to leave his own throat.
“yeah. that,” he says, taking his hand and nervously scratching the back of his neck.
“mm,” you hum.
“i just want you to know that i’m sorry,” he blurts out before he has half a mind to stop himself. he knows it’s the wrong thing to say when he sees impatience flash across your features.
“we’ve established that.”
“oh. right,” he croaks, looking more and more crestfallen and lost by the second. 
“listen, beomgyu,” you sigh. “if you don’t have anything to say, i think you should just l—” 
“i do! i do have something to say!” he exclaims. you still seem agitated, but against all odds, you nod.
“back when heeseung and i, you know, made the b-bet, i knew it was wrong,” he says. “i knew it was wrong, but i still did it. i guess i just saw you as, like, a challenge or something.” you flinch at his words and cross your arms as if your insides will spill out if you don’t. he winces, but continues, anyway.
“but then i got to know you,” he quickly adds. “really know you. and i realized that you’re so much more to me than that. every day i spent with you taught me more about myself, and i didn’t like what i learned; but  i think even just being around you made me into a better person. i don’t know how to ever thank you for that, but i guess it’s worth a shot, so thank you. really.” you can’t help but feel your eyes water. you were that important to him? “and every day, i want to fucking strangle myself when i think about how much i hurt you,” he says, voice cracking at the end of his sentence. you take him all in, finally noticing the fatigue in his gaze, in his entire being. reminiscent of the way you looked nearly a year ago. instead of satisfaction at the thought that he finally knows how you felt, all you can feel is sympathy. you know how it feels to be the kind of tired even sleep can't pacify.
“i want you to know that you are the most important person in my life, a-and even if you don’t forgive me, it’s… well, i understand. but you are not a joke to me, or a challenge, or whatever. i guess i just want to tell you that i meant it when i said that i loved you, and i mean it when i say it now. because i do. i really, really do.” you are silent, trying to scan his eyes for any signs of deception or ill intent, but you can’t find any. his teary eyes and quivering lips tell you that he really means what he says. is that enough, though? can it ever be enough? maybe not, probably not, but as you stare at the tears that threaten to leave his eyes, you decide you’d like to try.
“okay,” you say. 
“o-okay? does that mean—” 
“it means we can try again. as friends. for real this time. but i’m not the same person i was. is that okay?” the tears that were once on the precipice of leaving his waterline have now begun to flow freely. fuck his stupid pride, you can have all of it if you just let him give it to you.
“y-yeah. me neither. i mean, i’m not the same person, either,” he babbles. 
“okay,” you say with a nod, ever-so-graciously wiping his tears with the pads of your thumbs, smile floating on your lips. and he just can’t help himself. 
“can i kiss you?” he asks. 
“that’s not what friends do,” you chastise playfully, “but alright. just this once.” and you’re still as kind and merciful as ever. he lets out a shaky breath.
slowly, he takes his trembling hands and pushes your hair behind your ear before leaning down and planting his lips against yours. you melt into the feeling, just like you always did when he kissed you, and you feel your heart fluttering in your chest. on beomgyu’s part, he feels like he’s in a dream. to be perfectly honest, he’s had many dreams like this since you left, but nothing compares to how sweet his present reality is. 
when he deepens the kiss, you let him. you want to say you’re unsure why, but you know it’s because you don’t want this moment to end. you two stay in each other’s arms for longer than you’d like to admit. who can blame you for it when nothing in your life has felt this right in such a long, long time? 
for beomgyu, when you two finally part, he thinks it wasn’t long enough, at all. but then, no amount of time could really satisfy him, anyway. still, when he looks into your eyes, he can’t help the unconscious pout that adorns his face when he realizes the moment is over. you can’t control the way you let out a soft laugh at it.
-
being friends with you is very, very hard. not because you're hard to be around or because there's anything wrong with you, but because, to beomgyu, you're so easy and comforting to be with. it’s all too familiar to beomgyu and he finds himself slipping into old habits such as holding your hand and tucking your hair behind your ear when you let it fall into your face. surprisingly, you let him do whatever he wants. whether that's because you missed his touch or because you just don’t want him to stop, you don’t care to figure out. when taehyun brings up the unnecessary intimacy between you two, you can’t help but blush and deny anything crooked going on, which beomgyu takes to heart every time.
he’ll wait for you to accept him, though. he’ll always wait. 
and one night when you’re watching cheesy movies on your couch with him and you look down at your intertwined hands, his thumb unconsciously rubbing against your smaller one, you realize you don’t want to deny him. 
“beomgyu?” you whisper, drawing his gaze from the screen.
“yes?” he asks, attention fully on you like a puppy ready to listen to whatever you say.
“you don’t have to wait anymore.”
-
notes pt. 2: yeah sorry if this is the corniest thing u have ever read... my fault!
permanent (sfw only): @zzhyuu @defnotleee
permanent taglist (sfw/[n]sfw): @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @midwinterblizzard @everythingvirgoes @sooberryworld @20-cms @inkigayocamman @hyueika @boba-beom @vicurious28 @blossommi @lickingan0rchid @katsukis1wife @binniebakery @notevenheretbh1
series taglist: @vixensss @dejavu-jun @gyuchubss @missychief1404 @hihello-pinky @dojdcmidcmkmfekdvmkrkmvvrm
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firewasabeast · 6 days
Note
prompt: those pictures of buck make me think he's going to be endlessly harassed by Gerrard. I'd like to see something where it builds up until he kinda has a breakdown. maybe at home, with tommy?
It'd been a bad month. Possibly the worst of his life, and that was saying a lot. Twenty-four hour shifts were usually simple for him, but nothing was simple when Gerrard was in charge.
He was two hours into his fourth shift with the new captain when Gerrard found out that Buck was dating a man. Not just any man. A man that Gerrard seemed to particularly despise.
And maybe he should have thought better before blurting out that Tommy was his boyfriend, but he hated Gerrard and a part of him thought it might be fun to play with the man's mind a little.
He was wrong.
Tommy had dropped him off for work after he and Buck had accidentally fallen asleep after a particularly eventful night. Thankfully, Buck kept a change of clothes in his locker, so it really hadn't been much of a problem. He had forgotten his house keys and wallet at Tommy's though, so he was pleasantly surprised to get a visit from him a couple hours later.
Tommy had approached cautiously, but once Eddie informed him that Gerrard left to run an errand, he relaxed and let Buck pull him in for a brief kiss.
Tommy talked to the team for a bit, getting filled in on the endless cleaning they now had to do. How they had to fake bathroom breaks to get a moment to text or make a phone call.
In less than ten minutes, Tommy was heading back out the door. “See you guys soon,” he said, giving them a wave before pointing to Buck and smiling, “and see you tomorrow night.”
Just as Tommy had rounded the corner out the side door, Gerrard was walking in the front. “Was that Kinard?” he asked, disgust evident in his voice.
“Yes, Sir,” Eddie replied.
“Hm. What was he doing here?”
“Had to drop off something,” Chimney answered before Buck could even open his mouth. “Had a delivery meant for here that got sent to Harbor instead.”
“Can't even trust the postal service to do their job right these days,” he grunted out.
The group started back on their cleaning, but Gerrard blocked Buck's way. “Thought I heard you got plans with Kinard tomorrow, Buckley. That right?”
“Y- Yeah, it is. I mean, I do... have plans.”
“Huh. You didn't strike me as the type to hang out with a guy like that.”
“What do you mean?” Buck asked, face scrunched up in confusion. “A guy like what?”
“You know,” Gerrard shrugged. “Soft. Weird. Sissy-like.”
Buck could feel his face heating up. “I'm not sure those are the words I'd use to describe him.”
“You gotta watch yourself around people like him, Buckley. Men like us,” he said, making his hands into fists to flex his muscles, “we've got a reputation to withhold. Show the world real, manly strength still exists.”
Buck wasn't exactly sure what to say. He had known Gerrard was a terrible captain, had heard the stories from Hen, Chim, and Tommy, but this was so far out there he briefly wondered if he'd been transported back to the 1950's.
“I- I'm still not following.”
Gerrard rolled his eyes. “You're not stupid, kid. Kinard is... I'd say it right out, but you can't say anything these days without offending someone.” He nudged his head in Hen's direction.
So Buck said the words for him. “He's gay?”
Looking back at this moment, maybe he should have paid attention when Eddie came up behind Gerrard and motioned for him to cut it out.
Gerrard raised his hands up in surrender. “You said it, not me.”
“Yeah, I did,” Buck replied with a nod. The rage building inside him made him feel like he was left with no choice but say the next words that fell out of his mouth. “He's also my boyfriend.”
He could see Eddie in his peripheral, closing his eyes and shaking his head.
Watched as Gerrard's face turned from pale white to tomato red. A rage coming over him like Buck had never seen on a human before.
And that's what started the shifts from hell.
Gerrard, in those first shifts before knowing Buck's sexuality, had been rough. He was a grumpy, old man who demanded respect and attention that he didn't deserve. But he didn't pick on any specific person. They were all equal targets.
Until they weren't.
It was almost as though Gerrard felt like he'd been betrayed by Buck. Like Buck was supposed to be the one person at the station that was on his side, and finding out this single piece of information destroyed any and all possibility of that happening.
He had an endless string of one liners at his disposal, specifically for Buck, to use at any given time. And he used them every opportunity he got.
Buck could never do anything right. Nothing was ever cleaned properly and the equipment wasn't put away the way it should be. Gerrard didn't hesitate to reprimand him during calls. In fact, that seemed to be what he enjoyed the most. Anytime Buck tried to speak up he'd be brushed off or told his ideas were ridiculous.
When they had to line up at the start of their shifts, there would always be something wrong with Buck's uniform, or his hair, or the way he was standing.
He'd been put on cooking duty too. But it wasn't fun the way it was when Bobby was in charge.
Being on cooking duty with Gerrard was it's own special punishment. He decided all the meals, regardless of what anyone else wanted. He expected a full breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and he wanted them all at very specific times.
It was all food that Buck knew how to cook, but to Gerrard it was never done right.
“Too salty.”
“Too sweet.”
“Why'd you cook the meat so long? It's like leather.”
“Why's the meat still red in the center? You trying to kill me?”
“I hate cilantro.”
“You cook like this for Kinard? Must not be many options left for him.”
That was another problem. Gerrard brought up Tommy every chance he got.
“You kids today are so sensitive. Kinard used to laugh at all my jokes.”
“You keep your home this messy? Huh. Can't believe your boy toy puts up with that. He really has gone soft.”
“Kinard used to be my right hand man. Hate to think of what he's doing with that hand now... You probably know all about that though, don't ya, Buckley?”
*****
Buck had just gotten off a twelve hour shift when he headed home to start dinner. It was six o'clock by the time he entered the loft and Tommy would be over in an hour.
He was still shaky from all the things Gerrard had said to him today. Comments about Tommy, comments about him. Buck had tried to not let his words get to him, but that was proving more and more difficult each day. There were only so many different ways you could hear how worthless you were before you started to believe it.
He took a shower to try and help calm himself down before heading into the kitchen to get started on dinner.
Seared lamb chops, mashed potatoes, and glazed carrots were on the menu for tonight. Then a pre-made sweet wine cake for dessert.
Things fell apart pretty quickly.
He was deep in an internal conversation (fight) with Gerrard as he peeled the potatoes, causing him to slice right across his finger. Once he'd cleaned up the blood and gotten a bandaid, he remembered that he hadn't turned the oven on to preheat for the carrots.
While the oven preheated, he got the potatoes boiling and got the carrots laid out on a pan.
Then he started looking around the counter for the lamb chops, which he was supposed to let sit out for twenty minutes before he started to cook them.
He could have sworn he took them out before he got his shower but, lo and behold, there they were in the fridge.
He shoved the carrots into the oven and got started on the lamb. He didn't have enough time to let them sit out now.
By the time Tommy knocked on the door twenty minutes later, Buck felt like a big ball of nervous and panicked energy.
“Come in!” he yelled, not bothering to turn away from the lamb.
“Hey you,” Tommy said casually as he entered the loft. The overall calmness of his voice somehow stressed Buck even more.
“Hey.”
“It smells amazing in here.” Tommy came up behind Buck, set a bottle of something down on the counter, then wrapped his arms around his waist. He pressed a kiss to Buck's neck. “Missed you.”
Usually, Buck wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in Tommy's arms. Tonight, it just felt too hot.
“Yeah, y- you too,” Buck replied, trying to sound as normal as possible.
Either it didn't work, or Tommy could sense how tense he was, because the next words out of his mouth were, “You okay?”
Somehow, Buck managed to turn toward him and fake a smile. “Yeah, I'm good. Just don't want the lamb to burn.”
Tommy gave Buck a peck on the lips before letting him return his attention to the lamb. “I brought wine,” he said, picking up the bottle again.
“Oh, good. You can put it in the fridge, or leave it out on the table if you want, or-” he whipped around, “God, I forgot to set the table!”
“I can set it,” Tommy offered.
“I wanted to have it all done before you got here.” Buck moved toward the drawers that held his good napkins, pulling them out before slamming the drawer shut. The noise caused Tommy to jump a little. Buck headed for the silverware next, tossing each utensil on top of the napkins and once again slamming the drawer. “I don't even have the wine glasses out or anything.”
Before he could pick up the napkins and silverware, Tommy placed his hand over it. “Really, Evan. I've got it. Are you sure you're okay?”
Buck sighed, letting Tommy take control of setting the table. “Yes, I'm okay.”
There was a heavy silence in the air while Tommy got the table ready.
Finally, Buck broke it. “You like your meat medium, right?”
“Yeah, that'd be perfect.”
“Great.”
Tommy paused on his way to get the glasses. That great did not sound very good.
“What's wrong?” he asked.
“Well, they're already passed medium. They're medium well.”
“That's fine. I'm not really picky.”
Buck huffed. “You just said medium was perfect for you.” The words came out harsher than he intended, but he couldn't find it in him to care. He'd ruined the most important part of the meal already, and the fact Tommy had been so nonchalant since he stepped into the apartment was only making things worse.
“Medium well is perfect too. I really don't care how my meat is cooked, Evan.”
Buck turned off the stove and moved the lamb to a different eye so they would stop cooking. He grabbed an oven mitt and pulled the carrots out of the oven.
The second he saw them, he felt enraged.
“Damn it!” he exclaimed, practically throwing the pan onto the counter. “I forgot to put the glaze on them.”
Tommy eyed him for a second before moving closer. “It's fine, Evan,” he said, placing a hand on Buck's arm. “They look really good.”
Buck shrugged him off. “No. They'd be really good if I put the glaze on them, but I forgot it. Damn it!”
“Babe-”
“Oh my God!” Buck hurried back to the stove and turned off the potatoes. “I overcooked them! They're gonna be too mushy now!” He wasn't sure what it was, but his eyes were now both blurring and burning.
Tommy was trying his best to keep up with each dilemma that was happening. “We're having mashed potatoes, honey, I don't think it matters how mushy they are.”
“Yes, it does, Tommy! God, you don't get it!” He dumped the entire pot of potatoes into the sink, making it the disposal's problem now.
“Okay, that's enough,” Tommy said, his voice soft yet commanding. “Come here.” He came up behind Buck, who had his hands gripped on the countertop and his head hanging low. Tommy placed an arm around Buck's waist and guided him around until he was wrapped in Tommy's arms. He buried his face into Tommy's neck as he started to sob. His whole body shook with the force of his cries, tears pouring out and running down onto Tommy's shirt.
Just something else to add to the list of things Buck had ruined tonight.
Tommy only held him tighter. One arm around his back, keeping Buck steady. The other on his head, rubbing gently against his scalp.
They stood there for a few minutes, until Buck calmed enough to speak. “I'm sorry,” he whimpered out against Tommy's neck.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Tommy assured him. He ran his hand up and down Buck's back. “Let's go sit down, okay?”
Tommy led them to the couch, cradling Buck in his arms as soon as they sat down. Buck closed his eyes as he rested against Tommy's chest, letting himself be soothed by the way Tommy's hand ran up and down his back. He provided just enough pressure to relieve the tension in his muscles.
They were quiet for a while. And although he'd calmed down quite a bit, tears still escaped out of his eyes and down his face. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried like this.
“It's Gerrard, isn't it?” Tommy asked.
He didn't need Buck to answer. The shaky intake of breath told him all he needed to know.
“This is so stupid,” Buck said, wiping tears from his cheeks. “I- I'm acting like a child.”
Tommy shook his head. “It's not stupid, Evan.” He tugged lightly on Buck until he was sitting up enough for them to look at one another. He brought his hand to Evan's, keeping them intertwined as they talked. “Talk to me. What's going on?”
And that's when the dam broke. Once Buck got started, he couldn't stop. He told Tommy about all the ways he'd been picked on, the comments Gerrard had made, the things he'd said about Tommy. He talked about the way Gerrard spoke of their relationship, and made it seem like Buck was one mistake away from Tommy walking out the door.
Buck told him that even though he knew it wasn't true, it still messed with his head to hear it during every shift, over and over again.
“So he's been harassing you for a while now. Does the rest of the team know about all of this?”
Buck sniffed. “Some of it. Not everything. They couldn't do anything about it anyway. Hen and Chimney have to walk the line right now, because of Mara.”
“And Eddie?”
“He's got his... own stuff going on.”
“Hm.” Tommy wasn't too impressed by that answer, but that was a problem for another time. “You know you could have told me, right? I don't want you to think you have to hide this stuff from me.”
“Didn't want you to h- have to relive it. You already dealt with him, and I felt kinda dumb for it bothering me so much.”
“Evan, it's different. Gerrard didn't do any of that stuff to me. I wasn't out then, and I told you he didn't make me a better person. You shouldn't be having to deal with this every time you go in for a shift. It's not dumb that this bothers you. I don't know anyone that it wouldn't bother.”
“I just... I thought about filing a complaint, ya know? But,” a stray tear fell down his cheek, “I don't think I'd have anyone to back me up,” he admitted. “And even though it's anonymous, he'd know it was me.”
Tommy nodded. He understood how tricky filing complaints could be. It was what started the rift between him and Gerrard. Wheels were already turning in his head on what he could possibly do. He'd need to speak with his own captain, maybe Bobby, definitely Eddie, and possibly get a word in with the chief. But, if something could be done, he would do it to make sure he never had to see Evan this upset ever again.
“We'll figure something out,” he said, determined.
“Yeah. Yeah, o- okay.”
“And Evan,” Tommy scooted even closer to him, gently cupping Evan's face in his hands. He wiped away the remaining wetness from Buck's cheeks, staring deeply into his eyes as he spoke. “You are the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm not just saying that, I mean it. None of what that man said is true, but even if it was, I wouldn't care. I don't care if every meal you ever cooked was wrong, I don't care if your house wasn't perfectly clean, I don't care about any of it. Only you. Got it?”
Buck nodded, allowing himself to fall forward into Tommy's chest and be cradled by him again. “Yeah,” he replied, closing his eyes as Tommy comforted him. “Yeah, I got it.”
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iid-smile · 17 days
Text
queen-like treatment, ino takuma
x fem!sick!reader ! ino calls you "ma'am, sunshine, queen", he builds you a pillow fort (it's a castle in his eyes) ino lowkey rizzes you up with micheal jackson lyrics, kissies at the end, just fluff and silly stuff, not proofread
author's note: after seeing how starved ino lovers were, my creative juices were fr flowing!! also i just needed some cuddles
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"you're hot~" ino mumbles, his cheek smooshed against your belly as his face rubs back and forth on you. he's been glued to your side ever since you called him over to help you out. has he helped whatsoever? no. not at all. he's been a total cuddle bug since he walked through those doors, making you impossibly hotter than you needed to be, and refusing to acknowledge that he might catch your cold, just touching you all the time.
meanwhile, you're stuck, sat there with multiple tissues, bottles of water and chocolate bars by your sides. your nose has been running nonstop; it's itchy, irritated, and bright red. like rudolph, he would like to say. it stung to keep your eyes open, it stung when you tried to close them, and there's multiple dry and wet streaks running down your face from your eyes watering up.
"i don't like how you're telling me that when i'm burning up and experiencing the worst fever of my life." you mumble, still running your fingers over his nape and fiddling with the material of his beanie despite how annoyed you felt towards him.
"don't worry, i meant that in a lot of different ways." he turns over so he can face you, his usual overly happy smile plastered on his face. "how could i not find my lovely girlfriend hot when her cheeks are all flushed and she hasn't moved in the past five hours?"
now you're feeling the heat in your cheeks. "ino." you warn.
what a way to expose you, huh? he's too cheeky for his own good, yet still respects you as if you're some sort of higher being in status. seriously, find a middle ground, ino. "yes, ma'am!" he exclaims, still giggling as he nuzzles into you again.
a little pout of frustration manages to find its way onto your lips. "i should be the one cuddling you, not the other way around." and your nose blocks again, so there's an awkwardly placed pause as you try to clear it out, aggressively blowing into a fresh tissue. "i'm the sick one here."
"i'm keeping you warm, aren't i?"
that wasn't what you needed, though that's kind of your fault for not explicitly telling him. "i'm literally sweating."
"well, you can sweat off all of those germs. because i!" he suddenly gets up, standing by the edge of the bed and crossing his arms. he looks... oddly determined. "your lovely boyfriend, am going to cheer you up."
silence.
"...for real?" you sound impressed, but you're more perplexed by his sudden and random declaration.
"for real real, sunshine." he smirks.
sounds like a challenge. "okay then," you push your elbows to lean up on the bed frame, quickly adopting a confident front. "amaze me, mr ino takuma."
"oh, trust me, i will. give me thirty minutes. i'm an absolute architect at stuff like this."
thirty minutes indeed went by. you wiped your nose and eyes every now and then as you listened to the clatter of noise just a few rooms away, hearing a panic or complaint come from him sometimes. he's amusing, even when you can't see him.
you weren't keeping track of time, but maybe the minutes claimed really did pass, as your ears couldn't pick up anything else going on. perhaps he was done with whatever he was doing. that was, until you heard his footsteps walking back to you.
"i just wanna touch and kiss~" you watch with furrowed eyebrows as ino slides, or rather moonwalks back into the bedroom, clicking himself a beat as he recites the chorus to "butterflies". a song he's dedicated to you, and is so deadset on playing it at your future, not-yet-planned wedding. "and i wish that i could be with you tonight~"
now you can't tell if you're still confused, or actually getting a little flustered from the sudden vocal serenade.
he dances his way all the way up to your bed again, and holds out his hand to you. "will you take my hand, my queen?" and he winked. he winked! how sappy can this guy get?
it would be a crime to decline after he just did all of that.
"you don't have to call me that..." you mutter, glancing away as you put your hand in his palm. he swiftly lifts you to your feet, and your knees buckle as his arm hooks underneath them, carrying you like a princess. "w-wait—!"
"relax! i gotta treat my queen right." with you still in his grasp, he brings you out of the coziness of your bedroom over to the living room. "and the big reveal!"
the surprise was right in front of you. a huge— no, gigantic pillow fort, spanning over the entire couch carpet and floors, the cold wood neatly covered in fluffy blankets. the pillow walls were also draped in thin covers and fairy lights, creating a soft, golden glow. "had to build you the castle you deserve, sunshine. surely this cheered you up?" obviously, he's proud, putting you down on your feet so you can explore on your own.
"yeah..." you subconsciously say, walking closer to really take in what he's done for you. you follow the little path of lights leading up to the entrance. "yeah, it did..." impressive. he did this in thirty minutes?
once again, he's by your side, gently coaxing you by the shoulders to move faster. "go in! i'm gonna come in after you."
you crawl in and sit down a little more to the left, and he comes in after you as promised, moving to the right so he can comfortably settles down in front of you. "look, all of the plushies are here too. stole all of them and you didn't notice a thing." he kidnapped your plushies! you were looking for those during your wait, wondering why your usual bundle of animals weren't atop of your pillows. no wonder he made sure he kept his front to you walking out: they were stuffed in the back his hoodie.
sneaky... "you're seriously a child at heart."
"nuh-uh! my heart is all yours." he leans forward a bit, his gaze focused on you. "it's like you're a charger constantly giving me more battery. i only got you to blame for all of my energy."
just like that, you're blushing again. you turn your head away to the side, a groan coming from you as you struggle to face him. he giggles again, but then goes suspiciously quiet. maybe you should look again?
once you peek at him, one of his eyebrows raise in smugness, but his face soon softens at the sight of your bloom. then, his eyes drifting up to something above you before looking back down, almost as if he was telling you something was up there. and there was. a poorly drawn mistletoe on lined paper, cut out with ragged edges and ripped in some places, stuck to the roofing pillow.
"it's september." you deadpan.
"can't ever be too early for christmas, can ya?" he grins, shifting to sit closer in front or you and taking both of your hands into his. "can we kiss or no?" just slightly, you can hear him mumble a little please under his breath.
how can you stay mad when he loves you like this? you sigh, yet the corners of your lips lift, betraying your annoyed facade. "kiss."
ino's been waiting for this the entire day. at least three times an hour, you'd have to reject a kiss anywhere near your face because you don't want him catching whatever you've caught, and now he finally has you! he just can't help but get a little eager, pulling you close and toppling you over, hugging you in the tightest grip he can as your lips remained pressed together.
you really weren't surprised when he called you up the next morning, complaining about a cold that seemingly came from "nowhere".
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