#(did not do the whole play it was like. 20 minutes?? in a group of 6. still v fun)
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dragon-spaghetti · 4 days ago
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Man I miss acting. Someone let me be unhinged in front of a crowd again
Hell I think voice acting would actually be a lotta fun if I had any idea where tf to start w that (and had. The Time. And a less shit accent)
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katiascraft · 3 months ago
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“I hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this. Darling, you’re the one I want” | LN4
Parings: Lando Norris x Reader.
Summary: Your group of friends decided to go to Maldives for the winter holidays and the time off of some of the guys who were drivers in F1. You and Lando had been best friends for the longest time until one night you confessed your love for each other.
Now playing: “Paper rings” by Taylor Swift.
Word count: +1,7k.
Warnings: insinuating a little. Mentions of sex. Pure fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be errors. Not proofread.
Author’s note: I would love to travel to Maldives one day 😍 don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)
MASTERLIST
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You were laughing so hard. Lando wanted to show you a pirouette he “learned” to do because of pierre and he failed miserably falling into the water that surrounded your cottege.
Maldives was a dream. So beautiful. And really hot.
You didn’t realized how much you needed to take a break from the world with your friends. There’s no other choice with them: you just had to have fun or you had fun anyway. You loved them all so much. You were like 20 living in the same house in the middle of the world.
Lando got out of the water and started splashing water to you and Alexa that was next to you along with Charles hugging her from behind. You three shouted and from behind Pierre and Kika threw all of you into sea water with Lando. The water was warm and cristaline. You went up out of the water to find Lando smiling at yo and he fixed your hair. You thanked him with a smile.
You were in love with him. But you never had the strength to tell him. You were a coward. You didn’t want to loose him. The feeling of losing him because you confessed your love was terrifying. You just imagined how much pain you were gonna get into. You couldn’t picture your life without him in it.
You got close to him and hugged him from behind with your legs and arms listening to the conversation he was having along all of the boy that came. His perfume was your favorite smell in the world. His sling was warm. He grabbed you by your legs and brushed his fingers gently through your skin. That sent shivers down your spine but you didn’t want to move. These moments with him were so priceless for you. You felt it was as far as this.
For people - you looked like two love birds having fun and just confessing the love for each other through the way you looked at each other. Truth was you weren’t. But at the same time you loved each other more than words could express. Or that you could express to each other. Your love was an open secret to the world.
You rested your head on his shoulder just enjoying his company and touch. The way his body felt being wrapped around your body. And just following the conversation they were having about cars and stuff.
(
)
It was late and the whole group had gone out to the restaurants on the island. Except for you lando and puerta and kika who were already asleep in their bedroom. You have prepared tea and grabbed your fav book you’re reading at the moment in your kindle. You just wanted to relax for a while in those woven beds above the sea. The sunset was present. The view was so beautiful. You took a picture to remember that moment and poured the tea from the teapot into your cup. Ready you headed to the bed that you have thrown pillows and some blankets to make it fluffier. And more comfy.
You got comfortable sipping tea from your cup. You felt so relaxed at that moment. You took a picture for Instagram. Oh well a few pictures they were. You started reading and enjoying yourself surrounded by the sound of nature and the calmness of the sea. After a few minutes you heard someone coming down the stairs of the house.
You looked and found Lando freshly showered. The smell of his aftershave made your heart race. You smiled at him. He did too.
He got comfy next to you looking at you. He was quiet. He loved watching you. Stare at you. Admire and memorize every detail. you just got comfy with him now. Rested your head on his arm and kept on reading and doing your thing. He started strolling your hair softly. You enjoyed each other’s company right there. Under the sunset. He kissed your temple and you just left your things in a safe place before coming back to him. You looked at him very closely. He smiled at you for your action. He was nervous to have you so close. He could smell your sweet perfume in 4k. See every detail and texture of your skin. You were beautiful. The most beautiful girl he has ever seen - since you were teenagers. Any other girl could compete with you. He tried to forget about you with so many girls. Trying to find what you made him feel in them. But he just couldn’t. Any of them were you. And they will never be you.
You stroke his cheek sending shivers down his spine. This was usual between you two when you were alone. And you hated yourselves for knowing everything and at the same time pretending you didn’t. You just couldn’t talk about it. You kissed him on the cheek and cuddled him. He pulled you closer to him and you just fell asleep there. At peace with each other’s company. Feeling protected by one another.
(
)
It was party night. Everyone in the house was glammed up. Some of you are already drunk. And you were one of them. Alexa prepared you a gin tonic and god it was strong. You were laughing about everything and anything. Lando was a little drunk but you won over him. He found the drunk you so cute. And you looked so hot he just couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He found any occasion to touch you. Whenever.
The party was at the beach and started at sunset. You got there an hour later than expected. The music was so good. People looked so beautiful. You were all drunk. You were having fun just facing and fooling around with your friends.
You couldn't stop looking at Lando and how handsome and hot he looked in that shirt. You were driving yourself crazy by thinking of multiple ways to take his shirt off. And touch him. And kiss him.
Lando was loose. He was enjoying the evening very much. He danced with you and couldn’t help but hug you sometimes. Or touch you. He wanted to take off the yellow dress you had on. That color would look terrible on other people but oh god it was your color. It made your eyes shine so brightly. Make your smile beam. And your hair shine. He couldn’t stop looking at your lips wondering what flavour of gloss did you choose to wear today.
After a while a girl came towards him and started chatting with Lando. They were talking very stimulated. You could see her intentions. And you didn’t want to admit you were oh so jealous. Lando seemed to enjoy her company. That made anxiety creep you once more in your life.
And that was the moment you knew you couldn’t keep on pretending you didn’t love him. That was it. You were gonna tell him everything. And then you could run and hide and cry if he didn’t feel the same. But you needed to say it. To scream it. You felt desperate at the thought of once more losing him to another girl. Of not being brave and own your shit.
You walked towards them and interrupted their conversation.
“Um 
 excuse me. Didn’t want to interrupt but Lando I really need to talk to you in private asap” you clarified just looking at him desperate. And deep into his eyes.
He freaked out a little because your voice sounded so different than usual. He tried to keep calm. He nodded. “Sorry I gotta go” he said to the girl and grabbed your hand taking you two apart from the crowded site.
You got really anxious. You were scared but you knew you had to. He deserved to know as much as you deserved to express yourself.
He looked at you, grabbing your hands into his and stroking them gently. He could feel you were anxious.
“Lando
 I’m scared of what I’m about to say but I need you to know
” you were struggling to find the correct words but your nervousness wasn’t helping. He tightened his grip into your hands to give you confidence. His heart was racing like crazy. He could feel his heart palpitations into his ears.
“I like you Lando. And not like just a friend. I am
 I am in love with you. I’ve been secretly in love with you for years like I really want to take your shirt off with my teeth and have sex here in front of everyone I really do not care. I want you. To me you're the most handsome, most fun, most generous, most generous, and most everything. Please just tell me you feel the same. I'm so drunk I will cry for hours. I really really like you Lan” you basically spitted all of your thoughts to him. You were drunk and that was the best way you could express yourself right now.
He heard you. He heard you pretty clear. He felt his heart skip a beat. This was a dream. He dreamed of this so many nights. He couldn’t talk so he just grabbed your face and kissed you with all of his feelings into it. He kissed you desperately. Like his life depended on it. Because in some way it did. He couldn’t imagine a life without you. The kiss was deep and steamy at some point. Your hearts were racing and you were hot and agitated.
You finally knew how his lips tasted. You could die right there. You never felt this way. You couldn’t even think straight. Words couldn’t express what you felt either. You grabbed him by his shirt pulling him closely. You didn’t want to stop kissing him. You could stay like this forever.
He pulled apart from you slowly and softly. “Y/n I love you too. I’ve always did” he whispered into your lips. Your noses brushing each other so gently. You could feel his warm breath. His hands on your face. You smiled widely.
You should’ve done it way back.
Now you two need to kiss for this whole time you couldn’t until the end of your lives.
You heard your friends clapping and chanting for you both to finally be together. That made you laugh and look at them.
You couldn’t ask for a better group of friends.
And a better guy to spend life with.
You looked once more to each other. Knowing you were about to be the best life next to each other.
Forever.
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Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!
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riekirei · 5 months ago
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retroactive. — nishimura riki
“it’d be easier if you just didn’t ask, but it’d also be easier if she wasn’t his last.”
pairing: boyfriend!riki x afab!reader | genre(s): angst | content/warning: both riki and reader are of legal age in this work, consumption of alcohol, mentions of getting drunk, riki calls reader baby and vice versa
word count: 1.8k
author’s note: i’m back from the dead, hi guys. i hope you enjoy reading thisss. please ignore any typos or grammatical errors (if there are any) and lmk if i missed any warnings.
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[🎧 now playing: did you like her in the morning? by NIKI]
you slipped your shoes on, heading out the door. you were on your way to yongsan-gu to accompany your boyfriend, riki, to a get-together at a pub with his friends. it wasn’t really your thing to go out drinking with your boyfriend and a few other people at around 10 pm at night, but you agreed to go.
riki said he’d meet you at a nearby landmark in yongsan-gu as it’d take him just a few minutes to get there since the building he works at was in the district. you call a taxi and make your way there. the ride to the district was short, it took around 20 minutes considering how late in the night it was and how you were just within seoul anyway.
the moment you step out of the vehicle, you walked around for quite a bit before you spotted riki, who stood by a bus stop, leaning on its shade, waiting for you to arrive. you ran up to him, hugging him from behind. riki quickly turned around and greeted you with a big smile on his face. “am i late?” you ask, looking up at him. “nope, looks like your just on time” he responds, showing you the time on his phone’s lockscreen. he wrapped his arm around you and rested his hand on your shoulder. “the pub’s nearby, actually. let’s get going” he says. “okay baby” you reply, taking his hand off your shoulder and locking it with yours as you walk.
after around 5 minutes of walking, you two finally reached the pub. the neon sign fixed on the pub’s entrance flickered and the chatter of people from inside brought the night to life. riki walks in first and you closely follow. you walk past a couple of tables before finding riki’s group of friends settled on a long table further back into the pub. they all greet the two of you as you sat down on the two empty seats. riki’s friends from work, from highschool, and from anywhere else were there, considering most of them knew each other anyway, but you didn’t expect his most recent ex to be there. his ex of 2 years. you didn’t really know that much about riki’s past relationships, but you for sure knew about this one. she was that one girl he really got along with and they just ended up seeing each other. they had so many common interests and personality traits. i mean, it didn’t mean you and him were any less alike, but the fact she was his last just wasn’t something that you could move past by.
“hey? you okay?” riki tapped you on your shoulder, snapping you out of your little zone-out moment. “oh, yeah, sorry” you say, shifting your focus onto the group’s conversation. “so, riki, y/n, how’s things between you two?” heeseung asks. “we’ve been doing well, nearing to our two year anniversary on november actually” riki answers with both of your hands intertwined, resting on his lap. “and our work schedules have loosened up a bit so we’ve been able to see each other a lot often recently” you add. the chat between the whole group continued as you two immersed yourselves into it as well.
the night passes but you can’t help but notice the stolen glances riki’s ex has made with both you and riki. they’ve exchanged some words too while in conversation with the rest of the group. maybe you were just overthinking it? you knew it was a get-together with his friends, and you are his girlfriend after all, so maybe there was no malice or intent of her glances. plus, you and riki have been together for quite some time. but two years? him and her? of course it would be impossible for him to forget. but he was with you now, and he looks like he’s the happiest he’s ever been. there’s no problem there, right? but why has this whole scenario been messing with your brain since the moment you sat down on the table?
you take a shot of soju, slamming the shot glass back down onto the table. you were probably on your third, fourth, maybe even fifth bottle? you don’t know, but you were lowkey getting drunk at that point, actually, everyone at the table was getting drunk at that point. after some time, you all decide to stand up and head home. you weren’t as dizzy, so you were able to slowly stand upright. you sighed to yourself, the night was finally over.
as everyone walked towards the front door to exit the pub, riki’s ex stumbles forward. she probably had gotten sloppy after a few bottles of soju. riki’s hands naturally found their way onto her waist, standing her back upright. “you okay?” he asks. she nods and hums in respond, with heavy eyelids and a face tinted with the color red. you stood there, blankly watching what had just unfolded before you. you didn’t know how to react, you didn’t want to cause a scene. were you just being overly sensitive? it was just coincidental that she so happened to have tripped and riki was right behind her. but, you saw the concern in his eyes and how it was second nature for him to have placed his hands onto her waist. this whole thing was most probably not a new thing to riki. how he’d spend the whole night with her, drinking and having fun, how he’d drive her home in the same ford he drives around now, and how he’d probably walk her inside, making sure she got home safe. was the alcohol getting to you? or were these thoughts coming from your completely sane, rational, sober self?
you let it pass until everyone parted ways. riki walked you to his car which was parked somewhere near his company’s building. he didn’t notice anything wrong the whole walk there, but he sensed the tension as soon as he shut the car doors. the air grew thick. you tried avoiding riki by looking out the car’s window, or mindlessly staring into the road ahead. in his mind, he was trying to work out what he had done wrong. were you just sleepy? were you just tipsy? or were you simply just not in the mood? he got a hint that it may have had something to do with his ex, knowing you and how you think about such things.
the car ride to your apartment was silent, with only the sounds of the engine, the other cars passing by, and the road being heard. you two did not exchange a single word the entire drive. riki parked the car by the sidewalk of your building, switching the engine off. he finally broke the silence by saying “hey, i’ll walk you inside, ‘kay? i don’t want you getting hu-“ but you cut him off halfway “no, riki, it’s alright. i’ll be alright.” “but, baby, it’s like 3 in the morning. it isn’t-“ and you cut him off once more “i said it was alright, didn’t i? just go home, riki.” you said, walking towards the lobby of your apartment building. he walked and followed closely behind you, not letting you go up to your apartment alone, both under the influence and with something going on between the two of you too. “baby, look, i don’t understand what’s wrong? what did i do?” he asks you while looking you straight in the eye. you couldn’t do anything but look away from him as the two of you stood in the elevator going up to the third floor of the building. you storm down the hallway, towards your flat. the tears formed in your eyes, holding them back from streaming down your face. “hey, hey, baby-“ riki says, fastening his pace to keep up with you. you grab your keys and unlock the door, shutting it close as you walk in. he stops the door from closing and grabs your hand, stopping you from walking in further into your apartment unit. “what is it that you want, riki? WHAT?” you exclaim as you finally turn around to come face to face with him. he comes into your apartment, shutting the door behind him before leaning onto it. the tears formed from earlier began to escape the corners of your eyes as you start to sob in front of your boyfriend. “i’m sorry, baby. w-what did i do?” he says, pulling you into his embrace. all you could do was cry in his arms. he caressed your back, rubbing it up and down to relieve you. he repeated the words “i’m sorry” all over and over again. the sight of his disheartened girlfriend in his arms, crying her eyeballs out, shattered him into a million pieces.
“why are you hugging me right now?” you quietly say, wiping your swollen eyes with the palms of your hand. “what do you mean, baby? you’re my girlfriend, why wouldn’t i hug you?” riki answered, with tears running down his cheeks too. “t-then what the hell was that earlier? do you still love her? do you love her more than you love me?” you ask him, looking up at him. you pause. “i saw the way you two looked at each other, how you to conversed and interacted still. and i’m probably stupid for thinking all this, knowing you two have moved onto new relationships, but i don’t know if i can compete with her. and it’s driving me fucking crazy, riki. it’s driving me fucking insane.” you add. “y/n, baby. past is past, okay? i love you and i’ve been the happiest i’ve ever been. being with you, being able to love and care for you, it’s all i could ask for. please don’t think of whatever happened earlier as something different. please don’t take it as a sign that i haven’t moved on just yet. she trips and falls, i catch her, and it ends there, okay? but you could trip and fall a million times, i’d always be there to stand you back upright and it doesn’t end just there. even if you try and fail, i’ll be there for you. even if you cry or weep, i’ll be there wiping your tears. even if you jump with happiness, i’ll be there celebrating with you.” riki responds as tears continue to come streaming down his face. “i love you, y/n, hm?” he holds you tighter. “i love you too, baby. i’m sorry-“ “no, don’t be sorry. it’s okay. we’re okay.” you lightly push yourself out of riki’s embrace and look up to smile at him. you pull him towards your room and you tuck the both of you into your bed.
you drift off into sleep, buried in riki’s nuzzle. he kisses your forehead and finally falls asleep, holding you close til morning.
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joeybsversion · 1 year ago
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Contract
Joe Burrow x Reader
Joe and reader sign a dating contract
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“Should I even ask how you got in here?” You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest.
“Did you read this yet?” Joe hands a stack of papers to you.
“I saw it in my dressing room.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” He forces the papers towards you again.
“What is this?” You look up at him.
“Our dating contract.”
“Why is it pink?”
He rolls his eyes, “Someone left it in the copy machine and I didn’t know how to change it.”
Your contagious laughter fills the room. “Remind me why we’re doing this again?” You take the paper from his hands.
“Publicity.” He says, almost as if he’s asking a question. “Both of our managers agreed. It’ll be a good story line for the NFL, especially as I head into the play offs.”
“And I’ll benefit how?” You ask, flipping through the pages.
“Don’t you have a movie coming out or something?” He furrows his brows.
“No I live on this set full time.” You roll your eyes at his stupidity.
“They said it’ll bring more attention to you and the movie I guess.” He nervously paces across the room. “Can you just sign it so I can get out of here?”
“I’ll think about it.” You say with a smirk.
A few hours later your cuddled up on the couch with a glass of wine after a long day on set. The constant buzz from your phone pulls your attention ration away from the TV screen in front of you.
“What do you need?” Your voice is rough as you answer the phone.
“Did you check your schedule? We have another fake date planned for tonight.”
“A fake date.” Your lips curl at the idea.
“Correct. Party to celebrate making it to the play offs.” The line is quiet for a minute. “I’ll be there in 20 minutes to get you.”
“See you soon, babe.” You tease. If you’re going to be a fake couple, you better act like it.
“Wow.” Joe says as you climb into his car.
For the first time, you don’t sense a tone of disgust in his voice. “Not so bad yourself.” You pull your seatbelt across your lap and admire Joes outfit.
After a silent card ride to the private downtown party, you climb out of the car, cameras flashing and paparazzi yelling in your direction. Joe comes around to your side of the car and wraps an arm around your waste to pull you close. You feel your heart skip a beat and butterflies fill your stomach with a warm sensation. Joe leads you into the restaurant and towards his group of friends.
“You can let go now.” You try to pull away from his grip.
“We have to act like a couple.” He reminds you and pulls you back to him.
“Right.” You flash a fake smile.
Joe makes his rounds, introducing you to the rest of the team. For the first time, you felt like a normal person. People weren’t asking for pictures, or hounding you with questions about your next big role and security wasn’t needed. For the first time in a long time, you forgot you were a celebrity.
Drinks were flowing, the music was loud, and sweaty bodies continued to crash into each other. Taking advantage of the fact that you felt like an average person, you continued to let people bring you drinks.
You could feel Joe’s eyes on you all night. Everyone once in a while he’d come over and check in on you, his hands would find your hips and his eyes would lock on your. “Doing ok?” He brushed his sweaty hair off of his forehead, the curls falling back into place perfectly.
“Yeah. I hate to admit it but I’m having fun. I think I could get use to this.” You press your drink to your lips. “I feel free here.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” He smiled.
Joe really was a good guy. While you weren’t fond of the whole contract situation, you were glad it was him. It could be so much worse.
“Burrow!!” One of Joes teammates calls from across the bar before the handsome quarterback disappears back into the crowd.
You find yourself at the bar again, ordering another drink and slowly swaying to the music before you feel a hand pressed to the small of your back. You turn to meet a handsome, tall man.
“Hi.” You smile, the same butterflies you felt with Joe explode in your stomach again.
“Hey. I’m Sam. One of Burrows teammates.” He places his large hand out and shakes yours.
“Nice to meet you, Sam.” You smile, leaving your hand locked in his.
“So, how’d Joe get so lucky?”
You blush, looking down nervously. “You’re not so bad yourself.” You smile back at Sam.
Sam, much like Joe and the rest of the team, was very easy to talk to. You felt yourself getting lost in his eyes and laughing at all of his jokes.
Across the room, you can feel Joe staring at you. His eyes burning a hole in the back of Sam’s head. His jaw tightened when another silvery pearl of laughter over from the bar. You had been talking to Sam for the past several minutes. Not just talking, you were laughing and giggling like he was a comedian when Joe knew for a fact he wasn’t that damn funny. Irritation raged through his body as Sam leaned closer to you, causing you to laugh again. You’d never laughed that much with him. And he was your fake boyfriend.
Joe tried to pull your attention away from Sam multiple times. Now that you were finally able to relax and feel ‘free’ as you had told him before, you were flirting with Sam Hubbard.
Joe stormed over to you and Sam and practically ran Sam over. Up until this point, Sam had been one of his best friends but now he wanted to rip his hands off for touching you like that. Like you could possibly belong to Sam when you so clearly were dating Joe. Or fake dating that is, Joe thought to himself.
Sam’s eyebrows shot up as Joe stepped in front of him. “Excuse me.” Joe rudely interrupted, “I need a second with her.” He took you by the hand and led you to a quiet corner.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Joe stammered.
“I’m having fun.” You smiled back in Sam’s direction, his eyes were still locked on you. “I’m leaving with a guy at the end of the night.”
“Have you lost your mind?” His eyes go wide. “Do you remember what we’re doing here? You can’t leave with him!”
“You can’t stop me.”
Joe smiles suspiciously, “You’re right, you are leaving with a guy tonight. Me.”
You laughed. “No I’m not!” You slurred.
Joe leaned in close enough that you could taste the alcohol on his breath. “You have two options.” He whispered. “You can walk out of hand in hand with me, like an adult.” His leaned in closer if that was even possible, you could feel his lips as they whispered against yours. “Or I can carry you out of here over my shoulder. What will it be babe?” Your eyes meet his as he finally closes the gap between both of you.
Complying with his order, you take Joe by the hand, say your goodbyes, and leave the party. Outside you’re met by another crowd of rowdy photographers and fans.
“Stay close.” Joe leads you through the crowd.
As both of you had been drinking and were unable to drive, Joe ordered a car to pick you up. You climbed in quickly behind him, climbing into his lap and clinging to him as if he was your only sense of security.
“I know this is supposed to be fake, but I’ve been having a lot of fun with you. And it makes me so jealous to see having fun with other guys.” Joe slurs, his grip tightening around you. “I’ll give you anything you want if you give me the chance to make you happy. No more of this fake dating shit. I want you to be my girlfriend. I want to give it a shot with you. Take it or leave it because I’m not open to negotiations. You’re mine.” Joe crashes your lips together again.
“Only you could make asking me to be your girlfriend sound like a business deal.” You giggle.
“Please be my girlfriend.” He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.
“I am.”
“My real girlfriend. No more contract. No more fake dates. No expectation.” He kisses you again. “Be mine.”
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loviingpedri · 1 year ago
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one of his girls tonight - hector fort
prompt: he can’t get enough of you.
warnings: cursing, drinking, clubbing, suggestive content, grammar issues, not intense smut (viewer discretion is still advised)
please let me know if more since this is going to be a little explicit.
any italicized texts are lyrics
credits to owners for all images
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what else do young adults do in their free time? party, of course.
nothing like a hot saturday night in barcelona when the city was awake as people went out.
“y/n! my sexy girl, let’s go!” going out with your friends at least once a month was a must. meeting new people, kissing strangers, waking up next to someone random.
everything felt like a fever dream. especially that one boy you shared an unforgettable kiss with. last month, you were drunk out of your mind. you met this one guy, he had brown fluffy hair and touched you in the right places. your friends always said you were gonna go home with him and make him yours for the night. until, a random girl walked up to you and slapped you. either you just made out with someone’s boyfriend or someone was a complete control freak over him.
you hoped to see him tonight. some reassurance of what happened last month. and if he’s single, maybe you’ll keep him wrapped around your finger this time.
“alright! i’m ready!” you grabbed your small purse that barely fit anything in it and ran into the uber with the 10 other people in it. “a bit crowded?” you laughed as some people were sitting on each other’s laps.
“anything to save money and not have a designated driver tonight. today’s the day where all hell will break lose.” going out with a group of people was safer, calmer, and more fun.
lately, your life had been hitting every single positive goal in life. you spent your days with the people who brought out the best. little did you know, you would meet the person who would see you inside and out.
getting out the car was a hassle. thanking the driver and running to show your ids to the bouncer. already pre-gamed at your tiny apartment, it was finally time to let loose.
“it’s fucking hot in here.” one of your dearest friends spoke to you as you tried to mingle on the dance floor.
“i just finished my makeup 20 minutes ago and i can feel it melting already.” you fanned yourself to keep composed.
“y/n, that guy keeps staring at you.” looking behind your shoulder. you saw the one and only boy, the one with the best lips you’ve ever felt on yours.
“holy shit. that’s the guy with the crazy girl that slapped me.” you looked at your friend in disbelief. he must’ve went out to the clubs a lot if you continued to see him.
“go up to him. i don’t see her around. ask him what that whole fight was about. take a shot though, you’re gonna need it.” turning around, you could already see his eyes going up and down from behind you. meeting with your friends at the bar and downing shots after shots. finally feeling the alcohol in your system, a new boost of confidence was found.
walking up to him, you spotted different girls surrounding him. as you got closer, he sat up straight and tried to distance himself. sitting down next to him, he sat there frozen.
“hey, aren’t you the guy from a few weekends back?” for a guy who seemed popular around the ladies, he seemed pretty fucking nervous around you.
“yeah i am. sorry about that slap. i don’t know what happened. she’s not my girlfriend by the way. just someone random.” he spoke so fast, fidgeting with his hands. considering you already made out with him, there was no reason for him to be scared.
“you seem very popular. met anyone you like?” he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. you listened closely to the song in the background as he tried to form an answer.
push me down, hold me down.
spit in my mouth while you turn me on. i wanna take your light inside.
“you. can’t ignore a pretty girl like you.” he began to play into your little game. slowly, you touched his shoulder and sat closer to him in a comfortable position.
“oh yeah? well, this ‘pretty girl’ has to know your name first.”
and i’m screamin’ out. give me tough love.
“my name is hector. yours?”
“i’m y/n. you have a little something on your neck.” spotting a red kiss-mark on his neck, obviously not from you, you smudged it off.
we don’t gotta be in love no. i don’t gotta be the one, no.
i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.
“wishing it was your lipstick?” he give a little grin, trying to rile you up. you looked at him, his way of words trying to get into your pants was working.
“i don’t need to wish.” within seconds, your lips happened to be on hector’s. your legs straddling him while he rubbed your thighs.
he knows how to get the best out of me.
his hands were grabbing your waist as you felt the material of his pants under you. he continued rubbing your thighs, but he slowly made it up to your ass. as you gasped for air, he decided it was a good time to slip in his tongue.
finally breaking the kiss, you hear him whimper for more even over the loud music. smiling at him, you made your way to his neck and jaw. you planted a few kisses here and there, then you could feel his hand start to go under your dress.
“not here, but i know a few places.” making eye contact, you already knew where this was going.
hector wanted to you to be his girl every night.
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author’s note: author gone wild. imagination got the best of me and i know this is not likely of my stories. let me know if i did good for these kind of storylines!
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hiding-under-the-willow · 14 days ago
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If the hermit recap team is a paranormal investigation group I wonder what everyone thinks of them, at least Ghost-wise. Are they good at their job? Or do the ghosts watch them flail?
Okay so there's this episode in the show where the main characters attempt to get the ghosts to put on a big show of haunting the house for a bunch of paranormal investigators so they can charge people for ghost tours but all of the ghosts go on strike so they have to fake a haunting in a house that's already haunted. There is a subplot in this episode where a pair of ghosts spend the entire episode presenting a fake radio show to a recording device that's supposed to pick up ghosts, only for it to be revealed at the end that it doesn't actually work and it didn't pick them up at all. I was thinking about this episode both when creating Joe's character and when I decided I wanted the recap team to be reoccurring paranormal investigator characters.
Because I think it would be pretty funny if Joe, who was a radio host in life and can be heard through radios, recording devices, and other technology in death, did this whole bit, only for the team to come back at the end to pick up their recording device, listen back to the recording, briefly getting excited, only for Pix to go "Wait a second, I know that voice, wasn't this guy on the radio back in the 90s?" And they assume that Grian and Joel just played like a rerun recording of one of Joe's old shows as part of the fake haunting, meanwhile Joe can't decide if he should be fuming because his existence is being ignored or if he should be beaming because someone still recognized him some 20 years after his death.
And then they show back up at Grian and Joel's door two weeks later like "We checked this recording, it doesn't exist. Anywhere. And according to our research this guy died on your property. This recording is real. This kind of proof is unprecedented. Please let us investigate your house again."
And so Grian and Joel once again see the opportunity for money and accept. The ghosts continue to stay wary, refusing to directly interact with them, but they tend to just. Create proof on accident as they go about their normal wacky business. And so we have this dynamic where the recap crew keeps coming back to investigate, getting some kind of absurd evidence of ghosts, getting accused of faking it because the house already has a bad reputation for fake hauntings, and the recordings they're getting are absurd, and so they keep having to come back to try to get more.
I like to think Joe starts fucking with Pix by only talking to him when there's no cameras rolling, and so the two end up with a pretty funny relationship where Pix can have full conversations with Joe and yet can never manage to get another recording of him no matter how sneaky he thinks he's being about it.
Half of their job just becomes trying to deal with this one stupid absurdly haunted house that is dragging their entire reputation through the mud. And Grian gets to be like "Ha, yeah, you should try living with them." While trying to skirt around the fact that he can just straight up see and talk to all of them. Plus there's whatever the fuck is going on next door.
Just. this should be the general state of things by the time it's all over
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I think it'd be really funny actually if Pix managed to figure out down to the most minute of details what the fuck is happening between these two haunted ass properties and the people and ghosts living in them but the whole experience has run him so ragged and made him sound so insane that everyone thinks he's just lost it and no one believes him. Ghosts so fucking annoying he has to either retire or become a disgraced conspiracy theory youtuber who exclusively talks about the ghosts in these two houses. Everyone thinks he's had some kind of mental break and honestly he probably has but everything he's saying is actually correct.
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featguler · 7 months ago
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baby steps, baby ────── a late night conversation in his car. threading on a whole new thing with kylian.
♡ ────── pairing : kylian mbappĂ© x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. reader lives in an apartment in paris and is a normal person. reader is somewhat insecure and is filled with doubts abt their relationship. ♡ ────── wordcount : 710 ♡ ────── notes : seems like i'm just writing whatever the fuck i want. send in req's pls ♡ masterlist.
You choose not to ask Kylian if he had ever felt the way you are feeling before.
Why would you?
His past relationships are none of your business, the previous pairs of lips he’d kissed are none of your business, and the beds he chose to spend his nights on before yours are none of your business either.
He opens the door to your side of the car, he orders your food for you, and asks if you would like to share a dessert to hide his own eagerness. He is endearing, and the right now you have is enough.
It’s silly to obsess over did-not-happen-yet scenarios. Your brain, though, cannot help but string you along.
As he drives down the road leading to your arrondissement, on your third night out after an awkward confession in your apartment, Kylian talks about how he has to fly soon to Germany. He talks about how they—whoever they are—have begun integrating group games and activities into practice, and he talks about how keeping a team cemented requires more HR work than anything else.
It still feels out of your mind that you are dating Kylian Mbappé—superstar footballer, conceited on field and humble off it. Grace lace his strides and half the world wants him. Or maybe not. You’re not sure. That’s what it feels like, though.
You wouldn’t imagine that you’d be sharing a drink together a few months back, moreover a car ride, moreover a night out, moreover a kiss.
“...come with me?”
You noticed that you were dozing off the conversation, preoccupied with Paris’ night light just outside your seat window.
“To Germany?” You ask, trying to gauge the context of the conversation from what you remember. “Me?”
He laughs a hearty laugh, glancing over at you as quick as he looks back to the road.
“Yeah,” his grin is illuminated by the occasional streetlights—you recognize the quirk of his eyebrow as the sign of an incoming jest. “Watch me play, beat the whole tournament in one game.”
You laugh along with him. “I’ve watched you plenty, Kylian.”
“Not outside France,” he retorts before stopping for a quick second. “And not outside Paris.”
“Well,” you hesitate, “I’ve got a job and all, you know? Can’t exactly drop everything and leave for Germany.”
You watch the fist around his steering wheel tighten, his lips pursing after yet another one of your rejection. He’d always asked you to come to his games—begged you, even. Far before you had recognized the intention behind his invites, he’d send texts asking if he should save a ticket. It would be a game in Spain or Germany, always somewhere far-off, and always on a working day.
You would think that he had gotten used to the disappointment, but you try putting yourself in his position, and imagine how he would feel. It’s probably different from the hurt you feel every time he has to leave you for long, but you try matching it.
“But anyway,” you speak, hoping to distract the sudden tense atmosphere invading the car. “How do you win a tournament with just one game?”
“You never know,” you hear the light returning to his words. “If I score 20 points in the first 30 minutes, maybe they’d change the rules.”
“I’d change the rules,” you counter. “For you.”
You turn to watch the road ahead, but from the corner of your eyes, you see a quirk of his lips, and then a quirk of his eyebrows.
“That’s sweet,” he reaches over to touch the hands folded on your lap, grabbing one in his. “But it would be boring if all the rules were altered to fit me.”
“Yeah,” you chuckle, flipping your hand to return his hold. “You gotta take it one game at a time, one goal at a time.”
“Uh-huh,” he nods. “Baby steps. I’ll get there in due time.”
He pulls your hand over, pressing a kiss on top of your knuckles. This right now feels too good to be true—if it were you and him against the world, it seems like it wouldn’t be as scary as all of the imagined scenarios in your head.
“Baby steps, baby.” You look at him and cannot hold back the smile, “Baby steps.”
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morganbritton132 · 1 year ago
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Omg ok so my sisters used to play soccer and one of the moms had a cowbell. This woman would ring the bell every time the team got a goal. And now like 20 years later our mother was talking to someone about how my sisters used to do the local soccer thing and the other person was like “omg do you remember the cowbell lady? That team was so good but dear lord that cowbell was annoying!”

..I can picture Eddie getting a cowbell
Absolutely yes. No notes. Eddie definitely does this.
Steve kinda dooms himself to it because they played a scrimmage against a team that brought their own cheerleaders. Eddie prides himself on a level of dramatism that is not going to let that slide so he asks.
He did ask if he could be Steve’s cheerleader.
Steve, who melts every time Eddie takes an interest in one of his hobbies, does not think of the consequences when he says, “You’re already my cheerleader, but sure.”
If Steve thought about it for a little bit than he would probably think that Eddie was going to show up at the game in an actual cheerleading uniform, but he didn’t think about it. He actually forgot about the entire conversation until the next weekend when Eddie tries to get into the car with an electric guitar.
Steve stops him, “What are you doing?”
“Uh, cheerleading?”
“Where would you even plug that in at?”
“Oh, you’re right,” Eddie considers and then darts back into the house. He returns a few minutes later with an acoustic guitar, but Steve gives him a look that says very clearly ‘absolutely not.’ Eddie strums the guitar anyways and says, “I love you, bitch. I ain’t never gonna stop-“
“Eddie, we’re going to be late!”
So, he didn’t do anything that weekend other than come up with some on-the-fly cheers with another player’s girlfriend and agree to design them shirts. Nancy did say that if he tried to start a wave in the crowd that she would divorce him. From the land of the living.
He thinks she means it too.
Eddie’s already picked out the cowbell by the time next weekend rolls around. They’re playing against a group from the nearby methodist church and the only thing that Steve requests is that Eddie stays off his soapbox about organized religion. He says nothing about cowbells.
Nancy isn’t even aware that he has it until he whips it out after the first goal and starts ringing it. The whole field stops moving and just stares at him for a second, which is great. Eddie loves an audience.
Steve looks fucking delighted, too.
It is rather unfortunate that the team they’re playing against sucks major ass and they score more goals than they have in any other game because that cowbell rings with enthusiasm every single time. Except for the last goal because when Eddie went to reach for the bell, Ozzy put his paw over his hand to tell him to stop.
It doesn’t matter though because Steve runs over to him as soon as the game ends, all smiles and kisses. It’s painfully and sickeningly sweet when he tells him, “Best cheerleader I’ve ever had.”
Steve kisses him again and tells him, “Never do it again though.”
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strawberry-seal77 · 1 month ago
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Hii!!! YTTD fanart from my inprogress playthrough with @rookeryyy!!!
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We took a 15-20 minute break from playing and 7 hours later this image was sitting on my screen fully formed. also rook drew sara's warrior cats purrsona!!!
Extra images and thoughts under the cut!!!
Time Spent: 7 hours 24 minutes
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Okay so first thing, if it's not obvious, this is them playing warrior cats on the playground!! We have decided they do this. Shadow the hedgehog and baby baby shadow are part of the awesome sillyness that happens when you make a drawing on vc!! Though baby baby shadow himself is a longer running joke between us.
Second thing, this playthrough is SUPER FUN !!!!! Chat and I split the voices evenly (somehow) and we've been adding on silly little bits as we play!!! Like Sara sleeping through the instructions of the gun game (and yet winning flawlessly) and Joe having unwaivering confidence in her.
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Also Sara threatening to beat people up, as we see above <33
Though it DOES mean the game takes much longer to get through, especially if you're taking a SEVEN HOUR BREAK to draw FBDJHSBFH
the drawing was INTENDED to be a quick doodle but. as you can see. its gone past that
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I had a good amount of struggle with Sara's fist, as I originally had her body turned away from the camera to look mainly at Joeheart, BUT it wasnt working, and I think it looks much better this way anyhow <33
The drawing was first sketched, then colored in grayscale, colors were put on by overlay layer, and after that I did a whole lotta paintover!! <3 As shown below
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After I did the greyscale I actually had to use a gradient map to make the darks darker, cause I have a tendency to pick really light colors. All is well though!!
We decided that Sara would be leader of the warrior cats group on the playground, hence being Sarastar, and Joe would be a dog! She takes being a leader very seriously, including hiding snacks around the playground for her clan to hunt! I think I even smell a doritos bag by that bush over there...!!
It's not as obvious in my image as in Rook's, but we also decided that Sara identifies as a gun (because me saying "as a gunslinger" was misheard to be "as a gun"), and Joe is a furry.
im soo happy with this <3 theres so much to LOOK AT Im not used to large canvases <33
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hothothotch · 1 year ago
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hi! can you write a hotch angsty / fluff piece based off the episode of s3 ep 20 where they go to NY and have to work with Kate Joyner and Hotch treats reader like how he did to Morgan and pushes reader aside bc even after reader being there for him after his divorce with Hayley and thinking there was something more but then ends in fluff? :)
hey hey! first i want to say that this ask has saved my life. second, i got carried away again. but i hope you like it, anon s2
(god knows how much i want a part two for this one)
requests are open!
tw: angst, fluff, 5.3k words.
You should have seen it coming.
You’ve been a part of BAU’s team since the departure of Ellie, a quick replacement approved by Agent Hotchner — or Hotch, as the team called him — that took place for the first time after The Fisher King’s case, when Ellie was shot; when she decided working at the BAU was too much to handle, Hotch approved your official transference only a few weeks before Strauss’ approved Prentiss’.
In all honesty, you’d been surprised Hotch didn’t kick you out after that, but grateful nonetheless — you absolutely loved that job.
You had been the first to notice when Hotch’s marriage started to crumble, your own habit of staying late nights at the office giving you a first-row view of the nights he’d stay late and go home only on the early hours of the morning, just to come back fresh and new as if nothing had happened. There wasn’t much you could do to help, even if you wanted to; the fact that Hotch trusted you on the job didn’t necessarily mean that he trusted you enough to let you in on his personal issues, and you didn’t feel like you really wanted to. But, as purple bags started to form under his eyes, a clear evidence that he hadn’t been sleeping, you couldn’t help but start showing small, almost meaningless acts of service that you hoped would make him feel better.
Everything was pretty secretive.
You started to get in the office earlier, so you could leave a cup of fresh coffee on his desk (black with no sugar, as you know he liked), and whenever you went out for dinner, you’d come back bearing something that was small enough so he wouldn’t want to pay for what you brought.
You started daring more only a few weeks into your small endeavor. Instead of only leaving your secret gifts, you started to write small notes in Garcia’s colorful sticky notes (because you had none on your desk, so he wouldn’t know it was you) with encouraging comments, mostly about his job — and, when you were feeling specially bold, about his appearance in general.
You thought nothing of it, and had no idea if he even read them, but the fact that you were doing something to at least try and make things better was enough to warm your heart. Much more when his stern façade would suddenly turn into a lighter one as the day went by, even when you were out on cases and he found a cup of steaming coffee waiting for him, a sticky note attached to it with a unique message handwritten by you.
It wasn’t until the divorce that you felt the urge to reveal your identity.
Hotch had been served the divorce papers in front of the whole team, only a few minutes before they went out for drinks — it goes unsaid that he immediately stepped out of the group, deciding to go home. The team still went out for drinks, but the talks weren’t as fun as they were supposed to be, and the topic in hand was only one: Hotch’s sudden divorce.
“Haley left home a few weeks ago” Derek confessed, playing with his full glass of beer. A few women had come to hit on him, but it seemed like that small and closed group had decided that if one of them was miserable, they all would be miserable that night — and Morgan had been the first to agree to that silent contract, refusing every opportunity he had to get laid that night, “She took Jack and her things and
 left”.
“How could she do it?” Penelope had asked, her voice wrapped in a wrath no one had ever seen the blonde bubble of happiness be.
“Hotch is very dedicated to his job, Pen” Emily had replied, her voice as condescending as sad, a clear indicative that while she wished things had been different, that maybe there was a second chance, something they could do to help, she still could understand Haley’s side in this bargain, “We understand that because we do the same, but Haley
 she wasn’t one of us”.
And it was true. While any of you were ready to make sacrifices, to jump off cliffs in order to do the best for your job, Haley was just a wife that had to stay closed off at home with her kid, praying that, at the end of the day (or the week) her husband would make it back home.
Now Hotch knew how it felt.
“There’s nothing we can do to help” David had said that night, taking his own glass of whiskey and taking a sip of the sour drink, “Just be there for him”.
David was right. And maybe his words that night had been what prompted you to climb the three-steps of the catwalk’s stair one week later, one hand playing nervously with your necklace as you used the other to knock on Aaron’s door right after Spencer had left to go home, only you and your boss still on the sixth floor.
“Come in”.
Aaron’s voice was imposing, as serious as it had always been; it was curious, you noticed very quickly, how you’ve never seen Hotch falter before — even when he was served the papers, or when he officially announced for the team that he was, indeed, divorced. He had been calm and collected, talking about the topics as if he was making a comment about a case, or about the weather, and the only indication of his unsaid pain was the way his fingers played nervously with the now empty space where you’d been used to see his wedding band.
Just as he was doing when you opened the door, your eyes falling immediately on that spot, as if searching for an indicative that they had decided to try again. The hope painful on your heart.
“I finished the reports from the last case” you said after a few minutes, moving slowly to leave the folders on top of his desk, “And I’ve also filled the late paperwork, I’m sorry it took me a while”.
Hotch looked up at you, his brown eyes scanning your face almost curiously, and you frowned nervously at the prospect of having something wrong with your face, “What is it?”.
“Nothing” Aaron replied quickly, dropping his eyes back to his hands, “I’m sorry”.
You smiled softly at Aaron, moving slowly to take the seat across from him, careful enough to assure him that if he didn’t want you to sit with him, then you’d quickly move out and pretend nothing had happened. When he didn’t, you allowed yourself to place both your hands on top of his desk, your palms up in an inviting manner — you knew Hotch wouldn’t hold your hand, even with the clear offer, but you’d keep offering until he felt like accepting.
“We’re a team, Hotch” you whispered, almost inaudibly, hoping, one more time, not to be overstepping or making him uncomfortable in any capacity, “I know we’re not best buddies
” you teased lightly, adding a ‘yet’ on your mind, “But you still can share things with me. I’m here to help, you know? If you want to talk, ever, I’ll be here, okay?”.
Much for your surprise and happiness, Aaron had wanted to talk, eventually.
The first time was after a child-related case, from where he left with the need to see Jack, but unable to do so because Haley had taken him to his grandparents’ house. At first, when he called you up to his office, you’d thought you’d be reprimanded for a mistake you couldn’t even remember you committed, but you had barely stepped inside the office when Aaron started to speak, his eyes focused on the mess of papers on his desk.
“I want to talk” he said, his voice more painful than you thought it would be, “If you’re still up to it”.
You were. Absolutely.
And just as talking to him, falling in love with Aaron Hotchner was the easiest thing you’ve ever done in your life.
You didn’t notice how it happened, or when you finally realized you were head over hills in love with him, but what you did know was the unspeakable feeling of your heart thundering on your chest whenever he shot a smile on your way, or when he accidentally brushed his hand on your arm when walking past you, or during your nightly conversations, when he’d repeat the words you first told him all those months ago, when you offered your help.
“We’re a team”.
But you should’ve seen it coming.
You should’ve seen it coming when Aaron announced whoever was responsible for that case had called him personally, and not respected the natural order of things in which JJ receives the case and reunites with Aaron to know if it deserves their immediate attention.
You should’ve seen it coming when Derek commented about Kate Joyner being as ass, and Aaron immediately got defensive — and to some extent you believed you had noticed, even if you decided to ignore it, since your body had responded to his defensiveness.
But you didn’t. Mostly because up to that moment, everything was okay.
“You’ll keep throwing theories at me until I tell you to stop?” Hotch asked, and even if his voice was serious and perfectly professional, you could see a hint of a smile on the way his brows weren’t as furrowed as usual, a shy dimple appearing on the corner of his lips.
This, you thought as you observed his clear features, moving from side to side on the chair you’ve been sitting on, your sole duty being waiting for Garcia’s call, or a lead of any form, this is what I love the most about him. His almost smile.
The thought alone both intimidated you and made butterflies dance on your stomach. You loved him.
“I will” you agreed with a resolute nod, your face as serious as possible considering how bad you wanted to laugh, “That’s what I do when we don’t have leads, I try every possible outcome and make you smile every once in a while. Because we’re a team”.
Aaron shook his head, his smile a bit more apparent than before, “A team, indeed”.
“I hope we make a good one”.
You cringed visibly at Kate Joyner’s British accent, not failing to notice how Aaron immediately moved to look at her, a smile creeping up on his lips immediately as he met her eyes — and you felt your heart break even more at the realization that it was the same smile he always gave you.
“They liaised at Scotland Yard”, Emily had teased when you arrived, JJ gasping at the mischievous tone on her friend’s voice. You wondered if any of them noticed how your face fell by the minute, your eyes unable to match any of theirs, heart thumping against your chest because you had noticed how Aaron had looked at Kate.
He wanted her.
In a way he clearly had never — and probably would never — want you.
“Hotchner” you looked up immediately at his serious tone, furrowing your brows as you paid close attention at his words. You saw, with the corner of your eyes, when Derek and Rossi moved closer to the three of you, their faces as serious as Hotch’s, “Does it look like he could be one of our guys?”.
“What’s going on?” Derek asked, his eyes following Hotch’s every move.
“We’ve got eyes on one of them” Aaron replied quickly, and for a second you hoped they’d be somewhere you could get them, that maybe this hell would be over in the next hour, maybe you were remotely close
 “He’s on the subway platform at 59th and Lex”.
Your heart stopped beating at that moment, your breath immediately caught on your throat as you turned to face Kate, “We could be there” you muttered, your voice nothing more than an accusing whisper, “If we’d followed Derek’s plan, we could be there”.
“No, we should be there!” Derek retorted, his voice pulling out the anger you’ve managed to keep away from your words, and if your message hadn’t been clearly delivered to Kate, Derek’s had been — it was her fault.
“He’s got a gun” Garcia announced on the other side of the line, her voice wavering slightly at the new information.
“What do we do?” you asked, eyes moving past Kate to meet Hotch’s, “What are we supposed to do?”.
Aaron didn’t have time to reply before Garcia’s voice came through once more, “He shot her”.
God.
“Where the hell are the police?”, Kate’s voice was nervous when she next spoke, walking past you as if you weren’t there, her eyes not daring to meet yours, even if you knew that she didn’t care about the rage you were displaying. She cared about nothing other than Aaron’s impression on her, “This is Kate Joyner with the FBI. We have a murder suspect, subway platform. 59th and Lex”.
“He’s getting away!” Garcia announced, her voice clearly anguished.
Your mind started to work, all the training you ever had in your life — both for the BAU and other Units — coming back to you on that second, drawing you to move closer to the phone, you’re voice commanding, “Garcia, can you get eyes on him above ground?”.
“He’s heading west on 59th Street”.
“If he makes it to the park, we’ve lost him” Kate pointed, clearly worried.
The point was, Kate’s worry meant nothing to you anymore. Not when she was responsible for that; not when her pride got over her job and caused you to lose the only lead you could’ve had.
“And whose fault is this, Joyner?” you asked, your voice as venomous as you could make it sound, both your hands holding tightly at the wooden surface of the desk you’ve been sitting at, “Because from where I see it, is yours”.
The silence between your small group was almost palpable, and you could hear how someone took a harsh breath, as if your words had been like a slap to their face. You didn’t turn to see who had had that reaction, though — you knew the team had a very tunneled vision of you, that the fact you rarely snapped at people made them think you weren’t as fierce as Prentiss, even though they knew you were way more able to stand your ground than Spencer, usually without being overly rude at the source of your dismay.
That wasn’t the case, not that day.
You heard Aaron calling your name, and if it were any other day, maybe you’d have drawn your eyes off Kate to look at him, but you knew if you did this now, you’d backtrack — and God knew you didn’t want to.
“We could’ve had this guy!” you spat, pointing at the phone, “We just had to follow along with Morgan’s plan, which was a good plan, but Ms. I’m-better-than-anyone couldn’t handle hearing that someone was better than her!”.
“That’s not what happened—”.
“Oh, isn’t it?” You cut her off immediately, licking your lips for a second as your eyes kept glued on hers. Not blinking, not faltering. For the first time since you joined the FBI, you allowed the anger to consume you, because it was personal for you.
The way she looked at Hotch was personal for you.
The way they kept their bodies close was personal for you.
The way he had immediately stopped reciprocating you and your feelings whenever she was close, was personal for you.
The way she had the man you loved under her spell was personal for you.
“Even if we were on that platform, odds are he would have moved onto someone isolated” Kate retorted, her voice way calmer than yours.
“Maybe, but it was worthy a fucking shot!” you screamed, slapping your hands against the table, the sound calling the attention of the other Agents around, “Morgan said to put us at express stops. You wouldn’t need any new cop or to take the cops that are working from the streets, you just needed to assign us for this, and you decided not to, just because Morgan said so!”.
“It’s not your place to have this discussion”.
You were ready to spat back, maybe even to move closer to Kate and tell her that if she failed to do her job, then it was time someone else do it. But the voice that called you out wasn’t Kate’s.
You faltered, your voice suddenly getting caught on your throat as you turned to face Aaron, his eyes void of emotion as he looked at with you a grave expression, only one message written on his face: shut up, or you’ll see the consequences.
“My
” you stuttered, “My place?”.
“You need to back off” Aaron moved on, “We’re here to give the profile, that’s what we’ll do”.
“We have seven bodies, Aaron!” you said, but your voice had lost the strength it had when you were discussing with Kate, your anger turning into something way more painful. Painful for you, “Seven bodies. A woman was just killed on a subway platform because of her incompetence and you’re telling me to back off?”.
You hated how your voice broke on the last phrase, clear evidence that you were on the verge of tears. And you hated that he was a good enough profiler to see it, but he chose to ignore, because he was favoring her over you.
“You said it right, we have seven bodies” Aaron agreed, “Which is exactly why we need to stay focused”.
Derek snorted, drawing your attention back to him, “Pretty rich coming from the man who can’t stay focused on anything but her”.
As if it couldn’t hurt you more.
Aaron didn’t flinch, his eyes meeting Derek’s as he finished the almost inexistant space that separated the two of them, his voice low and passive — the tone he always used when talking with a suspect, “Take a walk. Now. You both”.
All you needed was for his eyes to meet yours for you to know you were done. With this case; with Kate Joyner; with Aaron.
“I’m out” you announced, messily grabbing your things and throwing them on your pockets, trying your best not to unravel then and there, where Kate could see how much she had affected you — how much their actions had affected you, “Out of this precinct. Out of this case”.
You walked past Aaron without sparing a glance at him, making a beeline towards the elevator. And for a second you thought about ignoring the way he called you, aware that you wouldn’t be able to look at him without the tears falling down your face, without you pouring your heart out to the man you ultimately loved, but that couldn’t reciprocate your feelings.
But you stopped, anyway. You stopped because a part of you hoped you’d see the man you’ve grown fond of in the past months; because you expected him to apologize, to say that you were right, or just say something
 because if he didn’t, you might as well give up on him.
Ask me to stay, you pleaded, just ask me to stay.
“You can’t walk away from this case”.
You snorted at his cold words, and even with your back turned to him, you knew his face was still cold as stone, the Unit Chief, not your friend, “I can. And I will” you finally found it in yourself to turn and face him, the first tears falling down your face, “I’ll tell Strauss I couldn’t handle it, that it hit too close to home. Don’t worry, I’ll take the plane back to D.C tonight, I don’t want the jet and won’t make the Bureau pay for a bedroom for me. It won’t ruin your budget”.
“Why are you acting like that?” he asked, and you allowed yourself to bask on the way his own voice faltered, the way his closed demeanor changed at the sight of your tears, but it only lasted one second before you looked over his shoulders, finding Kate looking straight at you, clearly curious.
Suddenly there was no way you’d walk out without saying everything you needed to say.
“You really don’t know?” you questioned, “Okay, so I’ll tell you, Aaron” you made a pause, fidgeting with your necklace once again, trying to find the courage you needed to let it all out — everything and nothing at the same time, “I’m so in love with you, Aaron. I’ve been from the moment you started opening up to me. And to see you dismissing my opinion, acting like I’m nothing more than just an AIT who has no idea what she’s doing here, it hurts
” your voice was nothing but a mumbled hiss, the tears now staining your shirt, and you were unable to stop them, even when you violently wiped them away with the palm of your hand, “It hurts because I thought maybe
 maybe you were feeling the same. Maybe you were opening up to me because you wanted me to be a part of your life, more than a friend, but a real partner
 I thought we were a team, but I see I was wrong”.
You allowed yourself to look desperate, broken, out of place for one more second as you watched the way his demeanor changed as he processed every word you’ve said. You noticed with a heavy heart when it stopped, when he finally took in the meaning behind your words, and then

Then you saw nothing.
And that only made your heart break even more.
“As I said, I was wrong” you repeated, pressing the elevator button violently, “I’m sorry, Agent Hotchner. I hope the case ends well. I’ll hand you my resignation once you’re back home”.
And without a word more, you left.


Prentiss called to let you know the case had ended only two days after you left — not that you wanted to know, but you had told Hotch you’d hand your resignation once he was back, so you were grateful she called. She didn’t ask if you were okay, because you clearly weren’t, and you were grateful for that, too (even if Derek and Penelope did call to know if you were feeling okay).
Aaron didn’t call.
He didn’t reach out.
Didn’t send a message or an email.
He was dead silent.
You had learnt from Derek that Kate Joyner had been killed on an explosion meant to hit her and Hotch, and that Morgan had driven him back to Quantico once Aaron was cleared from the hospital. He didn’t need to tell you, but you knew he had talked to Aaron (or either talked while Aaron listened) about what you said before leaving, about your feelings and how you were ready to resign because of the way he treated you; you also knew from his voice that he wanted you to ask what had been Hotch’s answer to their talk, but you didn’t want to know. Your heart was already too damaged to accept another blow.
It had been around the third day since the end of the case when someone knocked on your door. You had asked the team not to come over, not wanting them to see you on the state you were — hair disheveled, eyes puffy and red from crying —, and much less have to answer to questions you weren’t ready to answer; but you had been receiving a visit from your neighbor, Mr. Clark, who had caught you crying alone once and since then had been visiting you on the same hour everyday to make sure you were doing okay.
He was also helping you look for new jobs, even if he was trying to convince you to do something less dangerous than working for the FBI. It wasn’t working.
“Hello, Mr.—” you cut yourself off immediately when your eyes met the newcomer, your lips slightly parted as you took in his image, “Agent Hotchner?”.
You noticed how he flinched at your words, moving slightly back as if you had shot him straight on the heart, and not just called him by his title. Still, Aaron tried to keep himself perfectly composed (as always), one hand hiding something on his back as he fidgets with his fingers with the other.
If you hadn’t spent the past weeks crying over him, you’d have found it adorable.
“What are you doing here?” you asked sharply, your eyes scanning him one more time before you stopped to find his eyes, almost losing yourself on their brown — almost green, depending on the light — immensity.
“I wanted to talk to you” Aaron replied, rolling his eyes at the notice of how obvious his words were, “I wanted to apologize”.
You tilted your head to the side, your body clearly blocking his way inside your apartment — something you’ve never done before, “Okay. Done. You can go now”.
Your words were harsher than they’ve always been, void and certain, mostly because you knew you still loved him, and that if he asked to go inside, you’d allow. You’d buy anything he said in order to feed the fantasy of you two being more than friends, of the possibility of you being what you wanted you to be.
“Can we talk?” Aaron pleaded, taking a step towards you, “Please”.
“Why? So you can ignore everything I said at the precinct and cry over Kate’s death?” you spat out, and maybe you shouldn’t have talked about someone’s death with the coldness you’ve done, but you were honestly tired of Aaron and his bullshit, “I offered myself to help you, Aaron, because I knew you were suffering over your divorce. And if for some miracle Haley and you decided to go back together and try again, I’d swallow my feelings and let my heart break as I watch you and her trying to rebuild what you had, because I know how much you suffered over losing her. How much you miss being Jack’s father everyday
” you raised one finger, pointing directly at Aaron’s heart — the heart you still loved more than everything, “But I’m not stupid. I won’t let you step on my feeling to cry over another woman after I’ve told you how I feel, after I’ve pathetically confessed my love to you. I’m worthy more than that, Aaron! I deserve more than someone who only needs me when they’re emotionally vulnerable. I deserve to be loved, Aaron!”.
Aaron was silent for a moment, his eyes scanning your face as he observed the first tears rolling down. You thought he wouldn’t say anything, that maybe he’d only move away as you told him to, but he didn’t.
He took a step towards you, using his free hand to clear your tears, “I know” Aaron whispered, licking his lips, “And I should’ve thought about it, about your feelings, before putting mine on top of them. And I apologize, even if I know it’s not enough”.
No, it wasn’t. Because merely apologizing wouldn’t erase the memory of him observing as you poured your heart out and dismissing it on behalf of another woman. It wouldn’t erase the comments, and how he belittled you. It wouldn’t erase the pain you’ve felt on the plane back, or how pathetic Erin Strauss made you feel for abandoning the field over personal problems.
“I didn’t notice you were in love with me because I was trying to brush past the fact that I had fallen in love with you, of how inappropriate it would look like for Strauss, of how it could jeopardize your career
” Aaron cleared his throat, looking at the ground, “And how bad I felt over the fact that you were trying to help me with my marital problems, and I was too busy noticing how beautiful your smile is. I didn’t believe it was right for me to fall in love with you, because I didn’t deserve someone as pure as you”.
You remained silent; your arms crossed in front of your body. You knew there was something else he wanted to say, so you allowed him to.
“I imagine you heard someone talking about how
 how much Kate looked like Haley”.
You snorted bitterly, and that seemed to attract his attention back to you, “Everyone. Even I thought that when I saw her”.
Aaron nodded slowly, this time his eyes didn’t move from yours, “When I saw her, all I could see was Haley. And I tried to convince myself that the fact I was shaken by that meant that I was still in love with Haley, and that I didn’t have to worry about my feelings for you, that I wouldn’t mess up our friendship because there weren’t feelings between us
 but whenever I looked your way, or talked to you, I’d feel my heartbeat faster. And when I looked at Kate, I felt
 empty. As if I was staring at an old ghost” he confessed, and you could see on his demeanor how confessing that pained him — either because he was confessing in a way that he wasn’t in love with Haley anymore, or because he felt bad speaking ill of the dead, you weren’t sure, “So I tried to force myself into find that old spark, the way I felt for Haley, something that would prove to me that I wasn’t in love with you, but I failed. And I failed you in the meantime”.
You took a sharp breath, hating yourself for the way you started to play with your necklace, “Where does it put us, Aaron?” you asked painfully, “Because I won’t go through that again”.
Aaron took his hand off his back, showing you the small Tifanny box he had been hiding, your breath getting immediately caught on your throat as you reached for the object hesitantly, “I’m not proposing to you” he clarified at the look on your face, “I couldn’t, not after just getting divorced
 and I also can’t be in a relationship with you, now. I want to, but I need to settle things with Jack before I bring someone knew into my life, and I need to prove to you that I mean it when I say I love you”.
“Aaron
” you whispered, opening up the lid to reveal a golden lock pendant, one that you knew all too well — one you had nonchalantly commented with Aaron you wanted, but thought nothing of it, believing he hadn’t paid any mind at your words. He had, “I can’t
 I can’t accept it, I—”.
“I’m not trying to buy your forgiveness, I’m not stupid to think you’d accept a gift in exchange of it” he cut you off, “But I want you to keep it as a promise that I’ll try to make it up to you every day, until you can forgive me. And that I’ll wait for you ‘til my last breath, if needed”.
You looked up at Aaron, nodding slowly.
You knew by the look on his face that you’d be the one leading them from that moment on, that if you wanted to just get the necklace and tell him to go, he’d go without missing a heartbeat. But you didn’t want it. Aaron was willing to try, to win your forgiveness and to respect your feelings in a way he hadn’t before.
“We’re a team” you muttered under your breath, opening up a smile.
So maybe you owed it to yourself to try, too.
Aaron gave you a similar smile, nodding, “We’re a team. The best team”.
And as you took a step to the side, inviting Aaron to enter your apartment, you knew you had already forgiven him.
Thank you for the request ✹
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l0vema · 4 months ago
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Svt x OGG: in the soop series
In which svt and OGG do a collab "in the soop" but it doesn't go as planned.
ogg- original girl group
You felt their gaze fall on you as you sat down to eat. You doubt they will ask- expecting them to not even notice you'd been wholed up inside all day as the rest of them played in the water and soaked in the sun. In the soop was meant for you to relax, and that's exactly what you did.
You were handed a plate of ramyeon by mingyu and quietly ate the delicious food. Despite resting the whole day you didn't manage to find something to eat- too lazy to even get up and pause your show. Once done with your plate you got up in the midst of conversation that surrounded you as both your members and seventeen were filled with the contentment of playing around all day. You headed over to the grill and watched as dk and mingyu flipped the meat. "Two more minutes please~~" dk whispered as he kept flipping. "Grab a plate though," mingyu chimed in.
Once you got done eating the grilled meat you were sated. Slumped on your chair sipping a coke is when you were directly asked a question. "Muna where were you all day?" Seungkwan asked. You looked up only to see almost everyone quieting down to hear you.
"Oh I stayed in bed. I was pretty tired right before this little holiday. How was the water sports though?" You replied simply, kind of shocked by the fact that the entire table went quiet (it was almost 20 people around).
"You totally should've joined. It was awesome ," Jiyoon added as she smiled at the memories of that afternoon. You mirrored her smile thinking tomorrow you'd join. "Maybe we can go for a night swin if I really did miss that much ," you requested to know one in particular. That led to a string of hums and nods before the conversation shifted to hoshi and Lisa already tripping form drunkeness.
Almost an entire 2 hours later you were finally done with the dishes. It was like the military you thought as you walked out of the dark kitchen only to see mingyu, dk, yoona, amare, vernon and seungkwan sitting around the verandah in swimsuits. "Muna! We were just thinking of going to help you finish so we can go," Amare lightly said. It hit me that they were actually going for a swim...
"Get changed and meet us here quick, dk wants to see the fish before they all fall asleep" you laughed slightly before turning to change into one of the many bikinis you brought with you.
At the lake you all moved into the water despite the coldness and got comfortable. It was an oddly nice feeling, the chill and the slomo feel from the water. You held hushed conversations with your members and svt as you swam around exerting your muscles that spent the day sleeping.
It was somewhat of an intimate thing- swimming in the dark with these people- you forgot completely of the cameras filming.
That was one of the reason you were so comfortable with seungkwan as he swam much closer to you whispering "are you happy?" In a tone you'd never heard from him- unsure. You smiled and touched his shoulder before nodding "it's hard to be sad when surrounded by such amazing people."
The rest of the night faded into the heavy look from the guys every now and then and the giggles when you and yoona were trying to drown one another- heightened when amare and sengkwan pushed both of us down together.
When you got out of the water it was unbelievably cold and painful to walk. You forgot where you out your shoes. The ouch and ah was heard as you clumsily looked around. "I can't find it anywhere" you said to no one in particular.
"Lemme carry you" was heard from behind you. Turning you were shocked to see dk looking down at you. A laugh found it's way out of you before shaking your head- you weren't a small girl, the internet never failed to remind you of the beauty standards you never reached. Dk was a big guy but still- you couldn't subject him to such. "No it's fine I'll just run as fast as I can and take big strides, if that doesn't work I'll wallow in my pain before the earth akes pity and idk turns me to dust" you said half joking before turning. "I can carry you though..." he said before grabbing your arm "C'mon my mother wouldn't approve of me leaving you here, the rest are almost at the house" that's when you realization the rest had completely gone. Well who were you to refuse at this point. You just prayed your rolls and squishiness didn't disgust him or get too heavy for him.
He casually draped you over his shoulder and got to walking. In the slightly awkward silence you blurted, "if you start shaking you can put me down- I don't want to punish you" before you chuckled, self degradation was funny at times.
"Muna, you're small and plus your soft- I'm used to the hard dumbells in the gym. This is definitely fine with me" he replied already setting me down. Looking up at him you noticed the flex of his arms and realised this man was in fact hella strong. "Thanks," you smiled while looking up at him and his large shoulders and thick biceps. Thank God you were half black or else you'd be red asf. Checking out the guy you're stuck in a house with for 2 weeks is crazy- especially on day one. You turned and got to walking to your room, the chill not forgotten as your nipples hardened. Little did you know that behind you Dk was watching you with his own hardened thing....it was not his fault you were soft and smelled good and small and just so pretty in the moonlight. He sighed, he was gonna have to get himself together before seeing you again. Two more weeks of this was gonna be impossible.
A/n: not proof read. Feel free to give requests on scenarios that could occur and girl group names. I'm open to SFW and NSFW. Also I'm a new fanfic writer so please go easy on me. Love, M.A
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purpleshimmer · 2 months ago
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Music Videos in Season Two vs Season One
@thenationofzaun made a post about this too so I won’t talk too much about what they already said, but I wanted to talk a bit about why I feel the music videos in this season aren’t working the way they did in season 1
Spoilers below!
I love love love the music videos/sequences in season two, I really do! I think all the artists did an incredible job and the soundtrack is full of bangers so far. I love that Fortiche is branching out with different animation styles like the comic book sequence in episode 3 and the watercolor pictures in the flashback with vander. However, because they’re trying to fit so many plot points in 9 episodes they’re using these 2 minute music videos to tell stories and explain events that should’ve been given at least 15-20 minutes of screentime. The music videos are a great way to experiment with new animation styles and set up plots/events, which they did perfectly in season 1. 
S1E5 - “Enemy”
Enemy is played as Vi walks through the bar on her way to confront Sevika. However, we got plenty of context beforehand! We know why Vi is angry with Sevika, how she knew where to even find her, and got a really great fight scene between the two after the music played. The song showed Vi being badass and cool and set the mood for the fight, but wasn’t used to replace the Vi vs Sevika conflict. 
Compare this to something like the "Hellfire" music video in S2E3, where we don’t even see the task force enter Zaun. We should have seen Vi’s internal struggle with joining the Enforcers like she did in episode 1, but instead we can only assume that the event at the memorial service moved her enough for her to abandon her beliefs about the enforcers that she’s held since she was a small child and join them. We don’t get to see how Steb, Loris, Vi, Maddie, and Caitlyn work together and what their dynamics are like. We don’t see what Vi’s reaction is to releasing toxic gas on her own people, or them raiding the Vyx, we only see the aftermath of that and the scene in the arcade. The music video should have been used to set up the events, and then at least a few minutes of the episode should have shown the first raid on Zaun by the task force.
S1E6 - “Guns for Hire”
This is one of my favorite parts of season 1. The entire episode led up to the huge moment at the end where Jinx lit the flare to try and find her sister and for Piltover to block Zaun citizens out of Piltover. The end scene didn’t need to have dialogue or be drawn out because it was already explained for the entire episode. The music served its purpose by making us feel emotional and setting the next episodes. The same goes for “What Could Have Been” at the end of episode 9. I feel the same way about Woodkid’s other song, “To Ashes and Blood” in S2E3. The whole episode led up to that moment, so I think it was fine to have a music sequence as the final battle played out. 
S1E7 - “Misfit Toys”
This is the most “official” music video in season 1; the others are more so sequences with music played overtop of them instead of dialogue. The music video sets us up with information that we should know about the firelights BEFORE officially meeting them. We learn from the lyrics and the video that they are a group of Zaunites that are working to stop Silco and provide people a safe place to get away from Silco’s shimmer-ravaged city. It’s also just a great song and an incredible music video with a unique style. However, this isn’t ALL that we see of the Firelights. It’s used as a supplement, not a replacement, to their story. At least 1/3rd of episode 7 is about the Firelights, Ekko, and their relationship with Silco’s Zaun and Piltover, allowing for the audience to sympathize and connect with them further. 
This episode also features “Dynasties and Dystopia,” another great music video sequence. I love that it switches between Jinx and Ekko currently and as friends. It expands on their history and draws attention that these two used to be close friends, but are now trying to fight to the death. It works, in my opinion, because we already knew that they were friends, as this was established in the first three episodes of the show. The music video added to our knowledge, but wasn’t the first time we learned that they were friends. 
S2E1 - “I Can’t Hear It Now”
This one was so beautiful and made me sob the first time I watched it. The end of episode nine and the first parts of this episode prepared us for Cassandra’s death, and the funeral serves to show us Caitlyn’s reaction to it. It’s absolutely heartbreaking and beautiful; I wouldn’t change a single thing about this scene. 
S2E2 - “Sucker” 
I LOVE this song and I really like the music video that goes along with it. HOWEVER, the music video should have played at the beginning of the episode to remind the audience of the turf wars between the chem barons, and then at least half of the episode should have expanded on those conflicts. Instead we just got the two scenes with Smeech, who died almost immediately after. We never get to see Margot or Chross again, despite the fact that they are almost certainly still fighting. What was the result of that? We see the displaced people coming to Zauna and later Viktor’s camp, but why didn’t we get to see any of the political struggles between them (or any of the chem barons before their deaths)? We don’t get to learn about their organizations, we don’t see more of their personalities, we don’t see them fight outside of the music video, nothing. Maybe I’m just biased because I’ve loved the chem barons since their brief appearance in season 1, but the only reason I wasn’t upset about their small amount of screen time in season 1 was because I was expecting them to play a huge role in season 2. 
I loved the “Renegade” sequence, that was really fun and I don’t have anything negative to say about it other than that I wish my best friend Smeech didn’t get killed. 
S2E6 -"Remember Me"
I actually like this one! Putting aside the flaws with this plotpoint bc that’s not what this post is about, I actually think this one was well incorporated. We already knew some background about Vander and Silco’s relationship from season one, so this wasn’t sprung upon us randomly, and we even got a decently long flashback scene between the two. The music video was used to show a bit more information that could accurately be portrayed through the watercolor animation and without any dialogue, which I think it did successfully. 
S2E5 - “Cocktail Molotov” 
Again, I love this sequence, the song fits perfectly with the situation and it was exciting to watch. However, instead of playing at the beginning to set up Vi’s new living situation, it was the only part of her pitfighter life that we got to see. This was especially strange to me because of how much Riot hyped up pitfighter Vi before the season dropped; I really thought it would be a major part of the episode. We didn’t get to see a full fight between her and an opponent, we didn’t see any conversations between her and Loris, we didn’t even see how she ended up as a fighter in the first place. It was just “look at how cool she is! Also she’s drunk and sad” but we never got the chance to connect with her and feel what she was going through the way we did in season one when she was experiencing changes and struggles in her life.  
I didn’t cover all the songs bc this post is already really long, but that’s kind of how I’m feeling atm. I’d love to hear you guys’ opinions in the comments/tags!! Again I still love the music videos. I just think the ones in season 1 were better. I really hope I’m not sounding like I hate the show or something. I feel like a lot of my recent posts have been super negative 😭 I still love the show, I just have more criticisms with this season than I did for season 1, as I think a lot of people do.
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tessenpai · 7 months ago
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Kono Oto Tomare! Chapter 135 Scans and Rough TL
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Disclaimer: Please DO NOT use this translation to make your own TL of the chapter!! The KOT TL group works very hard to give you the most accurate translation, that does as much justice to the original script as possible. This is a ROUGH translation. That means is faulty and there must be mistakes in certain places. This is just for impatient people like myself to get a grasp on what is going on in the chapter! You can REFERENCE my TL if you want to discuss the chapter but never USE it as it was your own.
Scans: https://nicomanga.com/read-kono-oto-tomare-raw-chapter-135.html
Page 1
Chapter Title: #135 Celeste Blue
Side text: An overwhelming performance...!!
Page 2
*Thunderous clapping*
Page 3
*Thunderous clapping*
Judge Tatsumi [thoughts]: ...Unbeliavable... From here on...
Judge Kurokawa [thoughts]: ...The first place has already been decided.
Page 4
*No text*
Page 5
Chika: ..Ahhh... haha...
Page 6
Chika: I wanna play, already...
Takezou: Yeah.
Page 7
Kifune-sensei: Good job, everyone! Explendid! That was your best performance yet!
Miran: Really...
Imari: The heck!?
Imari: Wait, hold on. Why are you crying?
Miran: --un.
Imari: Eh?
Page 8
Miran: I had so much fun...
Page 9
Miran: Ugh----... I didn't...
Miran: I didn't know
Miran: That music could be this much fun...
Page 10
Imari: Wai- What? Stop that, now...
Page 11
Imari: Whaaaat!?
Imari: Hey, what's with you two!!? Don't cry!
Luka: It's just, I'm so happy.
Luka: I also had so much fun...!!
Luka: It was the happiest moment ever!!!
Page 12
Luka: Thank you, guys.
Imari: ...Why are you doing this----...
Imari: I also had fu-
Organizer: Ichiei High, please do not stand behind and head to the exit, please.
Kifune-sensei: Oh, my apologies. We are leaving now.
Imari: Flush
Kio: Pfff
Page 13
Kio: Ahahaha
Imari: Kio!
Kio: I'm sorry, the timing is just so...
Imari: Shut up, shut up! If you want to laugh at me, just do it!
Kio: ...Not at all. We are all feeling the same way, surely.
Tougo: Yeah, I also had fun. The most ever.
Page 14
*No text*
Page 15
*No text*
Page 16
Komaki: --san
Komaki: Tsukaji-san!
Tsukaji: Ah-
Tsukaji: ---Wha!? What!?
Komaki: Geez, why are you spacing out like that...
Tsukaji: Right, sorry... The performance was just so incredible...
Komaki: Yes, it truly felt like a whole different level, didn't it? Even I was moved.
Tsukaji[thoughts]: Up until now, Ichiei's performances have given a strong impression of 'a collection of talent' overpowering others ‘through sheer force’, but

Page 17
Tsukaji[thoughts]: Today's performance combined the talents of every member into an overwhelming work of art..!!
Tsukaji [thoughts]: So Ichiei brought this kind of performance...
Komaki: I feel sorry for the next school---
Komaki: Isn't it super hard to go after a performance like that? It feels like everyone has already decided who will be the winner!
Komaki: There are so many people leaving the venue, too--
Page 18
Komaki: If it was me, I absolutely wouldn't want to play now...
Tsukaji: ...
Tsukaji: ...Well--- I kind of thought the same thing. But that's not right, we gotta be careful.
Komaki: Eh?
Tsukaji: We don't know anything about this kids, yet with such little information, we make all sorts of assumptions and judgements.
Tsukaji: We pity them or critize them. That kind of thing...
Tsukaji: I thought I'd reflected after the Tokise incident.
Tsukaji: But I still did it unconciously.
Page 19
Tsukaji: There are many toughts, feelings and journeys unknown to everyone else.
Tsukaji: Every school, and every person has them.
Tsukaji: Huh---!? Why are you suddenly saying something so obvious?
Tsukaji: My words just bounce off your head, don't they?
Page 20
Announcer: We will now take a 10 minute break—
Suzuka: Alright, let’s start moving
Takezou: Yes!
Mittsu: Uoooohhh it’s finally here!!
Sane: Aaaaah, let’s gooo!!
Kouta: Wowowowooow
Atsumu: *Exhale*
Natsu: 
You okay?
Atsumu: Yeah!
Page 21
Sen-chan: Break a leg
Chika: !
Mittsu: Ah
Page 22
Mittsu: Tetsuki!
Tetsuki: You’re going already?
Mittsu: Yeah
 My heart’s gonna burst off my chest
Tetsuki: Do your best.
Mittsu: Thanks—

Mittsu: Woah
Same [thoughts]: Eh? Wha- Uzuki? Why’s Uzuki with them? Huh? Is it ok for me make fun of this?
Chika: Wait, what kind of weird ass combination is this?
Tetsuki: Haha
Takezou [thoughts]: He made fun
Hiro[thoughts]: He made fun
Page 23
Isaki: Come on, don’t worry about the small details. Just make sure to deliver your sound to Uzuki with all you got!
Chika: Is this your doing?
Chika: Well, but you did come after all, huh?
Chika: Make sure to open your ears wide and listen well to—

Page 24
*No text*
Page 25
*No text just Collective gasp*
Page 26
*No text*
Page 27
*No text just my internal screaming*
Page 28
Natsu: Uhh, Senpai, there’s people behind you

Chika: Aah, my bad

Tetsuki: He totally froze up, didn’t he?
Isaki: It’s fine, it’s fine.
Page 29
Satowa: 
—————
Satowa: 

Page 30
Satowa: 
That person just now

Chika: Aaaah—
Chika: 
My father
Sane: What!!? Chika’s dad came?
Mittsu: Seriously?
Chika: It caught me off guard too.
Chika: We haven’t met in a long time.
Chika: More like, we cut off all ties with each other.
Page 31
Satowa: But he came to listen

Satowa: All the way to Hokkaido.
Page 32
Chika: 
You see, I

Chika: Don’t have a single good memory of him.
Chika: And not for one second did I wish for him to come listen to our performance

Chika: 
And yet.
Satowa: ?
Page 33
*No Text*
Page 34
*No text*
Page 35
*No text*
Page 36
Suzuka: You guys, we’re going to be late for the load-in!
Kota: Oops, gotta hurry!
Side text: The father’s feelings were shown not through words, but through actions. Now it’s time for Chika to respond through sound—!
—-Kono Oto Tomare! will continue in the next issue!—-
57 notes · View notes
epinebleue · 1 year ago
Text
love me now (m) | 01
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(Gif credit)
in which you have sex via FaceTime.
pairing: johnny suh x reader (female)
genre: established relationship!au, mature.
warnings: dirty talking, praise kink, masturbation.
author’s note: tell me why i’m blushing while posting this lmao you can tell i haven’t written smut in years.
chapter index
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“I really miss you.”
Johnny laughs quietly at your pouty face, causing the image to shake for a few seconds.
“I left this morning.”
“Still!” You defend yourself, head on the pillows and arm raised, holding the phone up so that Johnny can see your face. “The house’s so quiet. I hate it here.”
“You should’ve come with me, then.”
“I have to work, Johnny, it’s not like I didn’t want to go.” You roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s accusations. He raises an eyebrow as if doubting your word. You know he’s only playing, but it bothers you a little. “Besides, you know how much I love your mother’s cooking, how could I say no to that?”
“Well, for your information, she won’t accept a no next time. She said she’ll cook all your favorite dishes.”
You laugh softly at that, flattered. You’ve been in a relationship with Johnny for two years, yet she loves and takes care of you as if you had dated for decades. Even if you can't go visit Johnny's parents that much, they still treat you like a queen every time you go there. You’re so fortunate to have them and their son in your life.
“She’s so cute. Tell them I love them.”
“I will.” Johnny places his free arm behind his neck and rests his head on it. “Tell me about your day. Did you have fun?”
“Oh, yes.” You hadn’t been able to go out with your whole group for months, ones too busy with work and studies, others trying to get their lives together. Managing to gather them in the same place had been such a challenge but so worthy. “Rosie’s starting a new job tomorrow, Jane will defend her PhD next month, and Jamie’s going to Hawaii on a spiritual retreat or some shit. Oh, and she made out with a waiter. And a bartender.”
Johnny scoffs in disbelief. “Classic Jamie.”
“It was a bet, actually.” And you lost 20 dollars, but you aren’t telling him that. “Wait a minute, my arm’s getting tired.” You rest the phone against the pillows and roll until you're lying on your stomach in front of it, hand supporting your chin.
“Is that my T-shirt?” Johnny asks out of nowhere. You’re speechless, having forgotten about it. Yes, you’re wearing Johnny’s favorite T-shirt, given by his father when he turned 16. It’s dark grey, with a drawing and the band’s name on the front: Coldplay. It fits Johnny perfectly but is huge enough to cover your body like a dress when you wear it.
“Yeah.” An embarrassed laugh leaves your lips because, up until now, Johnny didn’t know that you wear his clothes whenever he’s away. “It smells like you, makes me feel less lonely.”
“You’re so cute.” His eyes form a pair of crescent moons as he smiles, making your embarrassment grow.
“Stop!” Your face falls flat on the mattress in an attempt to hide away from his gaze.
“I mean it, you look so pretty.” You giggle against the soft covers. It doesn’t matter how much Johnny compliments you, you’ll never get used to it. “I’d so fuck you in that.”
You raise your head so fast that you hear your neck crack. You aren’t laughing anymore, but you still smile. Johnny, on the other hand, is dead serious. 
“Control yourself, sir, you’re in your parent’s house.”
“How can you tell me to control myself when you look that hot?” That wipes your smile away, his words causing the effect he wants, triggering a heatwave that takes over your body.
There’s a subtle wetness growing between your legs, even if he has barely said anything. That’s the power Johnny has over you. One look, one word, is enough. You look directly into his dark eyes, filled with lust, and you chuckle.
“Fine, you’ve got all my attention. Tell me what you would do to me.”
Johnny licks his lips before speaking. His words come out slowly, dragging them more than necessary. He keeps his voice low, not wanting to disturb his parents. If they catch him dirty talking via FaceTime, it’s over for you both.
“I'd start by rubbing that cunt of yours.”
You slide down the bed and get on your knees, making sure that Johnny can see your face and body. You place a hand on your thigh, gently moving it upwards to your wet core, giving yourself goosebumps. You touch yourself over the thin fabric of your blue underwear, letting out an obnoxious moan. Johnny's reaction is immediate, a quiet curse slipping out of his lips.
You sight. “Like this?”
“Yes, like that.” He says, eyes fixed on your movements. There’s a hint of desperation in his voice, of neediness. “Take off your underwear, babe, let me see you.”
It’s not a plea, but an order. You love when Johnny bosses you around in bed; when he loses his patience and manhandles you until he has you where he wants. And it looks like the dynamic will never change, not even when he’s in Chicago, in his childhood room. You throw your panties aside and go back to the same position, knees on the mattress, fingers rubbing your clit now.
“Fuck, I’m so wet.”
You press your fingertips against your folds, waiting for instructions. Johnny moves his arm from behind his head and it disappears from the frame. A soft growl erupts from his throat, letting you know that he’s pleasuring himself, too.
“Touch yourself for me, baby girl.” The pet name has you drooling, rushing to insert a finger inside of you, slowly, to make sure Johnny can enjoy the moment. Then, he demands. “I want to see your body. Lift the T-shirt.”
You rush to grab the hem of the garment but take your sweet time to pull it up, teasing him. He clenches his jaw and the image shakes a bit. You close your eyes and picture Johnny’s hand around his dick, the leaking tip red and angry. You imagine him using his pre cum as a lube, his hand moving up and down, but never being satisfied, because only you can get him off. You bring the hem of the T-shirt to your mouth and bite it, keeping it up so that he can see your naked body.
“Shit... add another finger.”
You listen and slide in a second finger, the feeling of being stretched making you moan louder. It's a good thing Johnny has AirPods on.
You move your fingers in and out, desperate and lost in the view in front of you: Johnny has closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall, leaving his neck deliciously exposed. You wish you could kiss it, bite it, mark him. You know he loves that kinky shit. Unconsciously, your fingers move faster, the sound of your juices flooding the room. You wonder if Johnny can hear that.
“Does it feel good, babe?” He asks, eyes falling on you again. You nod frenetically, unable to form any other words right now. “Fuck, you look so pretty. Are you a good girl?”
You fall apart every time he compliments you. You clench around your fingers and, again, all you do is nod. You moan in between sighs, biting on the T-shirt as you throw your head back. The fabric is all damp and your tongue is dry.
With your free hand, you rub your clit as your fingers reach further inside you. You wish Johnny was the one fucking you right now, your fingers being nothing compared to him. Hell, you want him so bad. Why does he have to be so far away?
Johnny growls again. “You're doing so good.”
Your mind is all over the place. Johnny's words encourage you to add another finger, even if he doesn't order you to do so. Johnny pants quietly enough so his parents don't hear him, but you do. Your hand cups your sex every time you thrust with your fingers, your climax getting closer and closer.
You open your mouth and the T-shirt slides down a bit. You grab it in a fist over your chest, making sure Johnny still has access to your body.
“John, I'm so close.” You whine with your eyes closed shut, the knot in your stomach growing with every caress of your clit.
“Wait for me, baby.” Once again, he demands. “You can do that, right?”
You're not sure if you can, but still, you nod, wanting to make Johnny proud. You want to be a good girl, so you keep pumping your fingers.
“But I want to see you touching yourself, please.”
“Sure, babe.”
Johnny smirks, and then his face disappears from your screen. Instead, you welcome the amazing view of his hand pumping his dick, erect and red. It looks so delicious you wish you could put it in your mouth. Damn, the things you would do if he was here with you. The image’s enough to send you over the edge, but you still try by all means to delay your orgasm. And it works, at least until you hear Johnny calling your name.
“Johnny, I can't-”
He must have noticed your desperation because his next words come out softly. “Cum, baby, cum for me.”
By the time you’re able to finish, your hand aches like hell. Your hand gets caught in between your legs as you cum. Your orgasm feels like an electric shock that shakes you to the bone as you call Johnny, desperately. You witness him finishing seconds later, white ropes landing on his stomach, abs clenching as your name slips from his mouth like a prayer. You thrust your fingers a few more times, riding your orgasm until the feeling fades away.
You pull them out, both hands landing on the bed before you fall on it, rolling to your side. You’re tired and sweaty, and the T-shirt sticks to your skin. Only your pants can be heard for a moment. Shortly after, Johnny switches the camera again.
“Fuck, that was hot.” He pushes his hair back, panting. “You’re so hot. I love you.”
The compliment fills you with pride, but his confession makes you smile widely, stupidly.
“I love you, too.”
You close your eyes for a few seconds, only opening them at the sound of Johnny’s voice. “Go sleep, princess, you’re tired.”
“No.” You whine. “I want to stay a little longer.”
“You’re literally falling asleep as we speak.”
There’s something in his eyes that makes you melt: adoration. You love it when Johnny looks at you like this.
“Nonsense.”
“I’ll call you in the morning, alright?”
You pout, closing your eyes again. His voice is so soothing that you could fall asleep as he speaks. “Promise me.”
“I pinky-promise you.”
“Okay...” You giggle. “Goodnight, baby.”
“Goodnight, princess.” He zooms in on his lips, and teasingly whispers. “Dream of me.”
Hell, you miss him so much.
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No reposting or translations allowed.
© epinebleue 2023
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pyramid-of-starrs · 1 year ago
Text
Stay with me
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Pairing: Clingy Boyfriend San X Black/WOC Fem reader
Genre: Fluffy Smut (Tbh it got pretty filthy)
Warnings: Clingy behavior, whining, lowkey toxic behavior, possessiveness, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (be safe), anal play (tehe, I said it got filthy), creampie, saliva, Y/N is dick whipped real bad lol
Word Count: 3.8K
A/N: This will absolutely be getting a part two since this is not the original plot of this story lol.
Pt 2
Chapter Song Rec
You stretched out while sitting at your desk in your room, shutting your work laptop and happily jumping up from your chair. It was finally the weekend, and you were so excited, you wanted to get out the house and do something, anything! A ding was heard from your phone, and you grabbed it off of the charger on the side of your desk to see your friend group chat going off 
Erica: It's friday hoes what we doin today Katrina: idk but I'm down for whatever Erica: OMG let's go to that club down town! There was some fine ass men last time we went Meg: OOOUUU yes! The dude that just wanted to buy us drinks all night! Katrina: Now y'all know Y/N boo'd up ass ain't gone go if we lookin for dudes Meg: Is she even gone come? San be havin her locked up lmaoooo Meg: Y/N bitch wya??? Y/N:I'm here and I'm coming! Ain't nobody locked up lol Erica: I'll believe it when I see it bitch lol lets meet at my house at 10 to pregame then leave! And Y/N tell San to back the hell up off you!!!
You tossed your phone on your bed and sighed, they did have a point. Ever since you started dating San about 8 months ago your attendance for friend gatherings and outings has gotten less and less, it wasn't like you were doing it on purpose it's just that San was very adamant about spending lots of time with you. He always wanted to be with you when you two weren't working, he came over when he got off, spends the night or ask you to spend the night, takes you out all the time and even comes to pick you up just to take you back to his house that was 20 minutes away.  Though you loved your time spent together you were used to having your space, this was your first time dating a clinger and you didn't mind but maybe it was time you told him you wanted to do something else with someone else for the day.
Just as you were finishing your thought your phone rang again. You sat down on your bed and picked it up, speak of the devil.
"Hello?"
"Babyyyy"
You can already hear his whiny tone, it was cute you had to admit it, a grown man acting cutesy would usually be cringy as hell but this grown man made it work somehow?
"Yes baby? What's wrong?"
"I want to see you can I come over?"
"I'm going out tonight with my friends San."
You could hear a long groan before he continued the conversation.
"But I really miss you, I haven't seen you in forever."
"You saw me yesterday..."
"A WHOLE 24 HOURS! I'm suffocating without my baby!!"
You laughed at his dramatics.
"Fine...you can come over but you have to leave when I leave and you're not allowed to try to convince me to stay with you."
"...okay..."
"Promise me San."
He smacked his lips and groaned again; he was obviously going to try to convince you to stay with him, but he had to be good...just this once.
"I promise."
"Okay, you can come over."
You went to take a shower while San was on his way, you stepped out and put on your robe, once you walked out the bathroom your phone rang, you went to answer it already knowing who it was.
"Hey baby, let yourself in I just got out the shower."
The call ended and a few moments later you can hear the front door opening and closing while you're in your room, footsteps can be heard as San approaches.
"I'm naked still hold on."
If anything, that gave him even more reason to come in, San immediately opens the door to see you in a black pair of panties and a black crop top, his smile dropped to a face of disappointment.
"You liar you said you were naked." He said in a pouty voice.
"Sorry to disappoint, pervert." You giggled at him and sat on your bed, you picked up the lotion that you put on your bed.
"Let me do it."
"San"
"Come ooon, I already can't spend the night with you at least let me rub you down for the night."
"Fine." you flipped the lotion bottle to face him, and he came to sit next to you, he grabbed your legs and put them across his lap, your body turning to face him. He squeezed the lotion on to his hands, rubbing his hands together he started to rub it onto your thighs.
"So, what are the plans for tonight?" He asked with a smile on his face, even though San was sad that you were going out tonight he really was happiest when he was with you, even doing small task like this made his heart flutter, he really loved you.
"My friends want me to go to this club we went to a while ago, we are going to pre-game first though, they said they miss me since I don't go out much because I'm always with you."
He finished one of your thighs and moved down to your calves, he lathered you up while massaging your legs.
"Well, I could always come with." He said smiling like a cute little cat.
"No sir, no boys allowed, you would mess up the flow. Plus, all my other friends are single so it would be awkward."
He frowned at you shooting him down.
"That's not fair Y/N, it's not my fault they are all single! What if I get my friends to date them? Then we could go on group dates."
"Right, your friends that would rather play video games then see the light of day?" You said with an arched eyebrow.
He finished rubbing your legs and you walked to your drawers to look for the rest of your outfit for the night. San continued to talk about how he wished he could spend the night together and that he wasn't "technically" trying to convince you to stay with him just "Strongly suggesting" in his words. You turned on a chill RnB playlist on YouTube as you continued to get ready to drown him out. You were finishing up your make up while you were sitting at your vanity, well technically San was the one sitting on the vanities bench, he insisted that you sit on his lap while he held your waist and sadly rocked you back and forth. You finally took off your bonnet and brushed out your brown and blonde highlight wig you just installed last week; San watched you in awe.
"You're so gorgeous my love." He smiled; you could feel the love radiating off of him.
"Thank you, San." You looked in the vanity mirror slightly hunched over since San elevated you, so you were sitting a bit pass the mirrors height.
His warm and wholesome smile turned to a sneaky one as he decided to try one more thing to make you stay home. He buried his face into your neck as he sat behind you.
"You sure you don't want to stay here with me?" He said, trying to pursue you.
"Very sure." You said as you started to put away your make-up.
You could fill his plush lips start to slowly pepper kisses down your neck. At first you were just going to ignore him but then a particular linger kiss had suction to it as he started to suck your neck, you learned your head back and sighed. His hands left your waist and slid up your shirt, he started to massage your breast gently.
"Come on San I have to go, you told me you weren't going to do this tonight..."
"I'm not doing anything baby, I'm just appreciating your beautiful body and face."
You turned your face to the side that he was kissing as his lips migrated up from your neck up to your face then finally reaching your lips. The kiss was obviously not a quick appreciation kiss, so much lust as you followed his lead, his hands still on your breast as he made his way under your bra. You felt his fingers started to tweak your nipples and you moaned into the kiss, your moan was used as opportunity for San to put his tongue into your mouth, you had to stop it now or you were never going to make it out. You started to pull back from him, and he allowed you to.
"Come on pretty girl stay with me so I can give you what you really want." He said in a low raspy voice, his one soft kitten like eyes turned to lustful demon orbs, he rocked his hips forward so you could feel his semi-hard dick against your butt, your mini skirt left you bare on his laps, only your panties could protect you. You could have just said no and gotten up and left but you chose to stay silent, giving San hope that you could change your mind still. He leaned in to talk in your ear knowing that that was where you were weakest at.
"What if you stayed with me instead while I fuck your pretty pussy until you couldn't walk anymore? Or I could let you ride my face while you cum all over me."
It was like the devil himself was talking you into betraying God and eating the apple off the tree. Turning down San is the hardest thing you could do but you planned for this, you knew you were weak for him, so you texted your friend 30 minutes ago tell them to come pick you up. You were originally going to have San drop you off but the last time you did that you did make it out the apartment but 15 minutes into the drive San pulled into a Dark parking lot to fuck you in his backseat saying it was just a quickie. You ended up getting fucked so good your lace was lifted and your make up was running down your face.
"My friend is already on the way San."
Just in time your phone dinged and you picked it up thinking it was going to be your friend saving you from danger.
Meg: Hey girl, Katrina ended up needing a ride too and that's on the other side of you and she has no one else to pick her up, Imma grab her, could you ask your dude to drop you off?
You read the text in your head and so did the incubus behind you, you dropped your head in defeat as an evil grin was on his face, even had a maniacal laugh could be heard.
"Looks like she isn't, but don't worry baby I'll take you."
"Thank y-"
"But it'll cost you." San has never made you give him gas money, he thought as a man he should never have to ask you for money, plus he was paid much more then you.
"How much do you want?"
"Now, now gorgeous, you know good and well your money is no good with me, but you know what is?"
"Oh fuck."
....
You don't know how much time had passed, to be honest San was making you feel so good you didn't even know if you knew your own name or not anymore. His face was buried deep in your sopping wet pussy as his tongue explored your brown and pink folds. Your thighs sat pretty against his broad shoulders while his fingers dug you out.  Your voice was horse as he was steadily working on your third orgasm, your hands full of his black hair as you gripped it tightly, it stung but San loved it because it meant he was doing a good job. Tears started to form in your eyes as you could feel your climax approaching.
"San, I'm about to cum."
"Already? I'm not done licking up the last one, you're going to have to hold it until I'm done."
You whimpered as San continued to draw perfect 8's on your clit, His two fingers were pounding deeply inside of you as he did the "come here" motion. Your hips lifted on and off the bed, your mind was going blank.
"Please San, please let me cum"
"Almost done."
Your nails dug into his scalp, your thighs started to close around his head, his sharp eyes darted up at you, he loved watching you go crazy.
"You're so good for me, go ahead and cum my angel."
"Ooooh Fuck" was all you could say as you came undone all over his mouth and fingers. You were a sobbing mess as San slowly pulled his fingers from your leaky cunt. He sucked all your cum off of his fingers as he put your legs back on the bed and leaned back up.
"C-can we go now San, it's getting late." you said in a defeated voice as you leaned up on your elbows.
He looked at his apple watch then back at you.
"What's the rush princess? its only 9:56, you still have time, plus I already told you if you want me to take you, you have to let me make you cum 5 times, and we have 2 more times to go." He said as he got off the bed and stood at the end of it.
"San I was supposed to meet them at-" he wasn't listening anymore, he was done talking, his mind was only focused on you cumming again and again for him. San loved the way you felt around his dick, the tight wetness drove him crazy and don't get him wrong when you sucked his dick, he swore he could see the gates of heaven open, but nothing ever compared to how good he felt when he made you feel good. It was not only a sense of pride but he honestly just loved you so much that making you cum was all he needed to get off. When you first started seeing San you let him know that a man has never made you cum before and you made a bet with him that it was impossible to get you to cum. Boy did he prove you wrong, he made you squirt the first time he ever ate you out and it was history from that point onward.
He grabbed you by both your thighs and dragged you to the edge of the bed, he didn't stop there because then he flipped you onto your stomach, San was strong because he worked out a lot so any chance he got to manhandle you, he took it. He gripped the sides of your hips as he pulled your ass in the air to connect to his crotch while your face stayed down. He didn't bother taking off your mini tennis skirt when he started to eat you out earlier since it was so short. You were arched in front of him, your pussy was bare since he ripped your panties off earlier. He stepped back a bit and stood there watching it drip and clench around nothing.
"Don't just stare at it." you said as you started to get shy.
"Why not? It's so pretty all I want to do is look at it." He said while biting his bottom lip.
You wiggled your hips a bit. "San come on you know we have to go soon, you're doing this on purpose." you said in a whiny voice.
Your whine was interrupted by a moan as he slid in his two fingers abruptly.
"So what if I am, this is my pussy to do what I want to it." he started to move his fingers faster.
"I don't even like your friends a lot because they are always trying to steal you away from me, taking you to clubs so other guys get to see you and fawn over you. I'm not there so they don't know this pretty pussy belongs to me. All they see is your sexy face and body wearing your little make up and this short ass skirt."
Sans full on possessive behavior was out, Clingy and possessive could absolutely be seen as red flags to anyone else but with San, those red flags were heart shaped. You loved how much he only wanted you for himself, but damn was in inconveniencing sometimes. He thrust his fingers deep into you at a steady pace, the over stimulation was killing you.
He continued, "If a guy walks up to you tonight and ask you for your number are you going to tell him you belong to me?"
“Yes- fuck!”
“Yes what? What are you going to say baby.” He dug his digits deep into you.
“That I belong to you.”
“Who is you? That’s not my name.” he held his fingers in you waiting for your reply.
“I belong to San Ah~ and only San.”
“Good job lovely, go ahead and cum for me.”
That was exactly what you did, it was that easy for San to make you cum, just some words and gestures. San once again pulled his fingers from your abused cunt, he brought them around to your face for you to suck your cum off them. You but both the wet fingers into your mouth and sucked them clean while he pumped them in and out of your mouth.
“Are you ready for me my love?”
You nodded as he removed his fingers from your mouth.
“I want words baby.”
“Yes San, please fuck me.”
He once again flashed that devious smile before undoing his pants and pulling out his fully erect dick, he pulled you back a bit before pumping it a few times. He lined his tip up with your entrance and you immediately started to clench it, as he slowly pushed his hot length into your wet cunt, moving slowly so you could feel every single inch he was feeding you. Sans dick was just not fair, it had a good and comfortable amount of length and width, but the best part was that his dick had a perfect curve that made him reach a spot in your pussy that most couldn’t. He had a firm grasp on both your hips to make sure you couldn’t run away from him, you fidgeted and whimpered while he stretched you out. Once he finally got all of him inside of you he held it in just so he could bask in the feeling of your hot wet walls against his raw dick, he bit him lip, closed his eyes and just held his head up to the ceiling. You started to become restless, feeling him so deep inside while he wasn’t moving made you dizzy.
“Please San, please move I need more.”
San came back to earth when he hears you begging for more and locked back in.
“Yes baby what ever you want.”
He started to rock his hips into you, you folded your arms under you and put your forehead on your forearm as you let pretty moans fall from your lips. His pace gradually sped up, his hands pulling you back to make his pelvis and your ass meet.
“Are you going to stay here with me?”
“N-No!” You replied.
He rolled his eyes and started to dig deeper into you, moving his hips even faster as your moans started to get louder.
“I said are you going to stay here with me?”
“San please.” You said in a whimpering voice.
He started to slam into you, your eyes began to roll to the back of your head, you felt your orgasm approaching. Just when you thought it couldn’t get worse San placed one of his hands on top of the beginning of your ass. His thumb started to rub your asshole, it was still wet from his spit and your slick when he ate you out. The sensation of him rubbing your second hole felt amazing then he slowly slid his thumb into your tight hole, you could feel him penetrating your asshole slowly while he was still drilling his dick into your drooling cunt. This is the the kinda fucking that makes people want to kill for their partners. You moaned so loud you knew you were going to get a notice complaint, he started to move his thumb in and out your ass.
“You’re such a nasty little bitch, letting my thumb fuck your ass while your pussy takes my dick. Are you this slutty for anyone else?”
“Only you Sannie, only you!” You yelled out, unable to control the volume of your voice anymore.
“That’s right baby, you’re my little slut right?”
“Yes~ I’m your slut.” Tears started to fall from your eyes, he was fucking you dumb with both your holes being stuffed, your pussy started to rapidly clench and unclench.
“Going to cum deep in this slutty pussy and make you walk around that club leaking my cum.”
He kept pounding his hips into and the mental thread in your mind snapped as you felt his hot seed deep in your womb, you couldn’t take it anymore and came around his still leaking dick. San slowly pulled out and backed up a bit, you immediately collapsed to the side of the bed as your eyes felt heavy.
San pulled up his boxer briefs and took his pants off while he smiled at how cute you looked when your were tuckered out. You laid on the bed breathing heavily and fighting the sleep since you were determined to make it out still, he walked to the bathroom to bring back a warm towel to clean you up, he wiped you clean then went to get a different towel, this one had micellar water on it. He sat at the head of the bed and opened his arms to invite you in to be held, you gladly accepted, he held you in one arm as you closed your eyes. He carefully removed your false lashes and placed them on the night stand, the started to wipe the make up you word so hard on off, your body was to tired to even fight it anymore. Your phone rang and San grabbed it and answered it before you could.
“Hello?”
“Hello? San? Where is Y/N?”
“She’s right here.”
“Well when are you bringing her over we waiting’ on her.”
“Oh, she said she’s to tired to go, you know, work and all that.”
The line got quiet for a second before your friend spoke again.
“Boy stop holding my friend hostage.”
San laughed before he hung up. Yeah you’re never going to see your friends again.
taglist:
@mingyuwus@sillyhappygirl@atiny-dime-p1ece@bloody-wine@angelsaway
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bloomingdog · 1 year ago
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đ…đšđ« 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐹𝐬𝐞𝐬 — 𝐇𝐹𝐛𝐱𝐞 đđ«đšđ°đ§ đ± đ…đ„đšđ«đąđŹđ­!đ‘đžđšđđžđ«
data: your basic florist au, bit of angst, identity reveal, all that stuff. 4k words, no use of Y/N.
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You know him, you know what the looks like at the very least. Once a week—the day never stays the same—him and a group of other instrument-carrying people go into the small venue in front of your shop at nine in the evening, an hour after closing the shop, when you’re about to head home. One early morning, out of curiosity, you checked the schedules adhered and covering the roller shutter in a poor attempt to find who this mysterious guy was. You found no useful information in that regard, you did foind, however, that the club opened at ten and most concerts held there started at least half an hour later. With that new gathered intel your best guess was that they came early to get everything set or a rather quick sound-check.
The venue is on one of the corners that limit the four way pedestrian crossing, the two corners on either side both hold pubs, and diagonally there’s you. “For the Roses” is a name given by its old owner, a sweet lady—and Joni Mitchell fan—you had worked for since you were seventeen, and four years later she had decided it was time to retire. For the last five months it’s been just you, it was easier to take care of it when you were two people working, that much is true, but having to close the shop has given you staring privileges. Years ago, when you first started working here the placement of the shop seemed rather odd, between clubs, pubs and the many other forms of amusement, this, however, was a strategical position. A big part of the clientele consisted of repenting boyfriends and enamoured halves of a first date, and they kept the business afloat.
You recognise him the moment he walks in.
“Hello! How may I help you?” The clock ticks away the last minutes before closing as you try to put on your cheeriest voice.
“Hi, sorry about comin’ in so late. My mate’s playing a gig, I just want some flowers to throw on stage, whole dramatics and all.” His voice is smooth with only the slightest rasp to it. He’s a fun last client.
“Do you want the classic roses then?”
“Nah don’t bother, give me the leftovers.” There are one or two extra cuttings and a bouquet that never got picked up you wouldn’t mind getting rid of. 
You excuse yourself to pick out the best leftover flowers you could in an attempt to make a half-decent bouquet. He’s oggling your shop, he’s particularly eye-catching inside your light coloured, slightly old-fashioned establishment. He likes it there, it’s cosy, the floors are filled with different types of flower arrengements and the walls display an amalgamation of different decorations gathered throughout the years, his inspection is only interrupted by your coming back behind the counter.
“Here, I tried to make it as cohesive as I could.”
“It’s alright, love, it’s gonna get thrown anyway.” Oh, that pet name went straight to your chest.
“It felt unprofessional not to give you at least a small sample of my usual, better, quality.” He gave a side smile as a response.
“How much do I owe you?”
“It’s on the house, no worries, I wouldn’t make you pay for only scraps.”
“That’s quite nice, take this as a tip, then.” He slid a twenty pound note on the counter, right before turning around a saying his goodbyes with a single wave of his hands.
Spinning the sign at the glass door so it reads “Closed” you turn to sweeping the floor and leaving your workplace as neat as possible, you hum along to the song playing from your phone on the counter. The 20 dollars he gave you felt a bit too much, not that you’re going to complain, not with the cost of everything, a flower shop isn’t a luxurious job to have, so it’s much appreciated. 
Drawing the curtain-like metal you spot a group of people walking into the club, one of them must be his friend.
A mere day later, he’s back, making the dainty bells above the door chime.
“Hello! Got another show you need to throw flowers at?” You quip and he chuckles.
“Nah. Only wanted to get actual flowers to have a good reason to ask you out.” He’s confident, maybe overly so, and Hobie is well aware of that, it’s not often that his confidence fails him, though. You look surprised before laughing, it’s ridiculous.
“And what were you thinking of getting?”
“I was hoping you could recommend me something.”
“Roses are usually the go-to flower, although I much prefer freesias.”
“Sick, I’d like a single freesia, please.” He says it in an overly polite manner, the whole situation is laughable.
“That’ll be two pounds.” You say as you hand him the flower.
“Here you go.” You mutter a thank you for an answer. “My band’s playing tonight, at ten, just on the other street, you could come and we could get a drink after.”
No way you’re attending a club on a Wednesday night, with a stranger nonetheless. 
“Sure.” 
“Sweet, I’ll see you. My name’s Hobie by the way.”
And it sounds like proper fun, really.
You’ve managed to avoid the biggest wave of people going home during rush hour and, thankfully, your ride home is as pleasant as the tube allows it to be and yet, you’re restless. His invite plays around in your mind. He’s handsome, that’s for sure, and it would satiate your curiosity on the other side it would also make you tired for work the next day, you’re too old for that, you think and softly laugh at your own joke. The walk home gives you time to ponder on wasted opportunities and the best years of your life, your flat instead greets you with the promise of a reheated dinner and an eight-hour-long sleep which for a moment makes you think about ditching him. 
The commute back feels longer than it usually does. You ate in a rush and got ready far too fast after your flatmate complained about needing to use the bathroom. Your phone marks 10:05PM, fashionably late. You’re thankful the show hasn’t started by the time you sit by the bar, ordering a beer. You still haven’t decided if it’s brave or cocky to ask someone out to your own show.
The whirring of a guitar being plugged signals the beginning of the show.
“Hello, we’re The Spider-Slayers! One two three!” Is your only warning before they start playing. They’re quite good, you have to admit, Hobie, as you’ve recently learned he’s named, exudes power and confidence while on stage, he’s rather skilled. It’s enjoyable, half of the audience is too plastered—it's only ten in the evening—to pay attention to the actual music and are merely glad to have a loud noise playing for them, but they’re well-liked, no doubt an established part of the community. It passes faster than you had anticipated, not even an hour later he’s walking your way while another band prepares to play.
He’s sweaty as he sits down and orders a rum and coke, he looks at you questioning if you also want one. “Make it two.” He indicates the bartender. “Did you like it?” 
He’s tall but not intimidating in the slightest, the metal in his face a contrast to all of his warm side smiles. 
“Yes!” You’re quick to answer. “It was really nice, you guys are good.” He fully smiles at the compliment, he’s got a pretty smile.
“Thanks. I forgot to ask your name earlier, sorry about that.”
“No worries, it’s Y/N.”
“Pretty.” It’s flirty. 
“Did your mate like the flowers?” You ask as the man behind the bar hands you your drinks.
“Totally, made a mess on stage and everything. She was grateful, seriously, funny and praising in equal parts, the bouquet was beautiful too, such a shame it ended like that.” You laugh at that. “How’s it working at a flower shop?”
“Good, actually, better than one good expect, I’d say it’s one of the better retail jobs out there.”
“Seems hard.”
“It is at the beginning, you should’ve seen some of my first arrangements, they were bloody awful, I’m still wondering how we didn’t get any complaints.” It’s Hobie’s turn to laugh.
“You’ve made some improvement then, your shop’s beautiful.” You beam and thank him, you’re proud of the way it’s looking these days. “How’d you end up working there? Do you need a degree to be a florist?”
“Not really, no. I’ve taken a couple courses but for the most part I was trained by my old boss.”
“Hm.” He nods. “Strange place to set up a flower shop, innit? I see you closing all the time and wonder who in their right mind would think of opening it at a nightlife epicenter.” Good to know you’re not the only observer.
“You’d think so! We get a lot of our clientele thanks to that, not all flower shops open until eight either way. Flowers make both great apologies and gifts, you can only imagine the kind of people who walk in there.”
“What, like me?” 
“No way, I’d put you in the normal bunch.” He quirks an eyebrow, an invitation to tell him more about yourself. And that you do. You talk for the two hours that the club remains open, he’s fun, you’re both chatty, you’ve got a multitude of things in common, he tells you about his bandmates, you exchange numbers, he’s a cat person by the way. 
“You want me to walk you home?” The underground closed an hour ago, it wasn’t that big of a trek to your place, you could say yes if not for the stranger—acquaintance—danger middle school talks flashing in your memory. The bus, though taking longer than the tube, was still an option.
“It’s fine, really. I’d rather take the bus.” 
“Got it, I can wait with you if you’d like.” Yeah, yeah, you’d like that. The two of you walk close to each other to the nearest stop. The pavement is damp, it gives you another reason to be glad that you wore your trusty old, slightly dirty, converse instead of a more sophisticated option.
“Thank you for inviting me, I had a nice time, you’re fun.”
“So are you, love.” How could an overused term like that have such a big effect on you when he says it remains a mystery.
You sit in a comfortable silence until the right bus gets there and as you bid your goodbyes you’re unable to contain the big smile you give him, blame it on the drinks. You send him a quick text noticing him that you got home safe and sound before falling into deep sleep.
Your phone rings and vibrates from the bedside table, it always goes off at the same time and yet today it manages to scare you awake. The trip to the bathroom and coffee making is accompanied by a string of curses: music, bad choices, the opening hours of your business and pretty boys all fall victim to your vulgarities. The lack of proper sleep makes your day go by twice as slowly, nodding off and almost missing your stop and doomscrolling during work hours to pass the time, even turning to reading an article from The Daily Bugle, it’s laughable, it’s says something something Spider-Man, something juvenile delinquent something menace for the city.
The chime of little bells half an hour before closing wakes you up better than your alarm had done earlier in the day. Looking up from your phone you spot the same bright eyes and confident stroll that kept you company last night.
“You need to stop coming in right before closing.” You scold him. You’re confident he’s aware that it’s an invitation for him to keep showing up.
“My bad. Do you like food?”
“I-What?” Indeed, what? “I like food, yes.”
“Peng. You want to grab dinner?” And he also needs to stop proposing last-minute plans.
“Where?”
“What do you fancy?”
“Thai?”
“Sure.” 
“I close in half an hour, you can stay here if you want.” Not that you’re expecting any more costumers.
He asks if he can help with anything and you hand him the broom and dustpan that hangs in the back of the shop, he laughs and takes it as payment for having you get out earlier. The floors aren’t dirty per se, it’s mostly leaves and bits of cutting that have fallen. He sweeps while you get everything ready for tomorrow and put away what’s been used today. Half an hour later you hang your work apron and close the shutters. 
There’s a nice restaurant a couple blocks away you’ve got food to-go from before. You order a spicy noodle soup, khanom jeen nam ngiaw, and he settles for stir-fry noodles. It’s good, warm and comforting, you take a bite from his plate and he follows suit with a spoonful of your broth. The conversation picked up while cleaning and it has yet to die down, he tells you about his hobbies—you can't help to make fun of him by saying Hobie's hobbies—and you share your love for museums with him, ‘We should visit one.’ he says to which you agree in excitement. 
You don’t let go of his hand until your bedroom door is closed and you softly push him into bed. Taking only a short break to take off both of your shoes you don’t waist time in straddling him, his hands on your hips as you return to kissing. Soft moans mark the tempo for your exploring hands and you stare at his bare abdomen with much less shame than you think you should have. His hands are slightly calloused and scarred, it doesn’t matter with how skilled they are. It feels like you’re drowning in him, you hope he feels half as good as he’s making you feel, if his breathless mutters of ‘fuck’ and ‘good girl’ are any indicator you can pat yourself on the back after it’s over.
The dinner is paid for, the night chilly compared to the warmth inside the restaurant. He offers to walk you home again, this time you agree because you’re no longer strangers, right? You make it half of the way before puts his hand on your lower back, you don’t make an effort to move it, it’s comfortable.
You make it three quarters of the way until you start kissing, your back against the wall of a mildly busy street, you feel like a horny teenager. You climb up the stairs to your flat two-steps at a time, your hand holding his and praying that your flatmate has confined herself to her room so you don’t have to introduce one to the other, not right now at least.
The morning after your alarm not only scares you awake but it also makes him sit up in bed with a jolt.
“Sorry.” Sleep is still evident in your voice.
“S’okay.” He replies before giving you a chaste kiss on the lips, you don’t think either of you wants to deal with each other’s morning breath, it’s a tad early for that.
You offer him breakfast. Your flatmate has left for work but she won’t forgive you if you don’t tell her of last night’s events. At least it won’t make this morning awkward, or more awkward than it already is, it happens with first breakfasts: sleepy, a mess, cranky from waking up, it’s not anyone’s best look. 
You take the underground while he chooses to walk home, it’s not crazy far away from yours, apparently. In the meantime, the work day is spent looking up frantically every time the bells over your door chime, hoping that it will be him at some point. He does come over, at ten past eight, and he has to knock on the door to catch your attention. Your strange arrangement goes on for the better part of the next two months, he comes over when you’re about to close, you eat together multiple times per week, he’s quite a skilled at making exactly seven different dishes, he invites you to his shows and you’ve met his bandmates, you’ve had every clichĂ© date imaginable: the park, the cinema, the natural history museum, markets, the full deal. You don’t call them dates though, you’re not a couple even with all the kissing and sleeping together—literally and figuratively—he’s told you he doesn’t like labels, but he’s being exclusive with you so you’re okay with it. 
He shows up with little cuts and bruises, you attributed to being clumsy at first but it’s become more common lately, he excuses it as a protest that went south, a moshpit or just a friendly scuffle with his mates. It doesn’t ease your nerves. But you're soon to forget all about it once you’re outside, walking hand in hand and sharing headphones, he’s incorporated bits and pieces of your music to his playlist and he makes sure to show you the songs he thinks you’ll like first than anything.
Your phone lights up with a text notification from Hobie, he’s coming over soon. It shouldn’t be, but it reads as ominous, he doesn’t usually tell you in advance and would rather showing up unannounced.
“Hey pet.” He greets, it’s his latest nickname for you, you’ve always thought it ridiculous but he’s making you grow fond of it.
“Hi Bee” An animal-related nickname you gave him after he tried calling you ‘duck’ that has stuck. “You want to do something or should we head home?”
“Home’s fine, I’m tired.” It’s fair, he’s always running around doing things, you’re okay with a night in. 
He sweeps the floor, it’s his assigned task, you feel bad but he says he doesn’t mind and likes helping you. The ride back to your place is quieter than usual, he seems pensive. You’re about to open the door to your building when you notice him stuck a meter away.
“Are you okay?” Your heart is picking up speed.
“Listen, love.” Oh no. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to come up.” You’re on the second and final step of the stairway while he’s at ground level, he looks smaller than he’s ever been. “I’ve had a lot of fun, really, but I don’t think I can go on with our thing, you know? I’m not good at commitment anyway.” Your lack of a response get’s him speaking again. “I’m truly sorry, I just don’t wanna go on with this and end up hurtin’ you.”
“Okay.” Is the only thing your brain is able to formulate.
“Okay.” He replies. “I’ll be leaving now.” He says as he kisses your temple, turning around and giving you a single wave of the hand for a goodbye.
You feel the tears beginning to fill up your eyes, your vision blurry, at least you were able to hold them until he left, it’s already embarrassing as it is. You don’t bother re-heating dinner that night, choosing to go straight to bed and waking up with puffy eyes in the morning. For the first time in a while you’re sure you won’t have any visits at work, it’s terrible. You feel stupid. He told you enough about himself to know that the two of you weren’t in for a long-term relationship and still you held onto some sort of hope of being an exception. 
That was two weeks ago. You’ve seen him two times since, while leaving for home. He waves your way and you wave back, out of politeness more than anything. Two weeks of radio silence that break your established routine and fill you with a sense of expectation during the last hours of work. 
It’s nine-twenty on a Sunday, it’s usual for you to stay until late at the end of your work week, Hobie knew that and would make sure to keep you company and take you home those days. The early November weather has made it so it’s already been dark for hours, the city is rather calm, you don’t suppose there’s much to do on a cold November night. A series of knocks on the door alerts you of the presence of someone outside, it startles you as you hold the broom you were using against your chest.
Nothing could have prepared you for the sight outside the door. Spider-Man was doubling down and leaning against the glass of your shopfront, electric guitar strapped across him and hanging in his back, clad in his usual metal decorations while his suit had been torn. You let him in a hurry, it’s not ideal to have an idol of the working class dead on your welcome mat. He limps to the back of the shop, in your current state of panic you don’t stop to wonder how he knows the way so well, until he’s sitting on the floor and leaning against one of the walls, guitar forgotten besides him. You follow him and crouch at his side just in time for him to take off his mask. 
“Fuck off.”
“Hi pet.”
You were so excited to be done with work and head home to watch a film, lucky for you, your ex-situationship still has a habit of coming in right before you leave. 
“Bloody hell Hobie.” 
“Please don’t be shocked right now, we can talk about it tomorrow.” He can’t be serious. “I’m knackered.” I wonder why, you think. He looks like proper shit.
“Hobie you’re bleeding.” You’re trying your best to be helpful and not panic.
“It’s fine love, it’ll heal in no time, I kinda have superpowers.” You’re choosing to ignore that and get up to retrieve your first aid kit, it’s far too basic to be useful right now, only equipped to help with cuts and minor injuries.
You can feel his eyes on you and your whole body is shaking as you kneel by his side. You try your best to keep your hands steady while pouring rubbing alcohol into a cotton pad.
“You don’t have to, I’ll be fine.”
“Let me clean it, please, so it doesn’t get infected.” He lets you, wincing at the alcohol making contact with his open injuries. He knows you're doing it more for yourself than him. “Sorry.” He shakes his head as a way of saying ‘no worries’.
You reach for his face with your bare hand once you’ve considered him clean enough, you cradle his cheek and can’t hold your tears from spilling.
“This is why I cut thing off with you, you know? Don’t wan’ you getting hurt.”
“I don’t care.”
“Don’t say that.” He pleads. 
“What about you getting hurt? Does that not matter?” He laughs and winces right after.
“You’re a sweet thing. I don’t have a choice but you do.”
“And what if my choice is to stand by your side?”
“You can’t.”
“Yes I do!” You’re reaching tour breaking point and can’t help but raise your voice. “I didn’t know I loved you as much as I do until these last weeks without you. It’s been torture.”
“It’s been torture for me too.” His words soften you, and it’s only then you realize what you said, you don’t dare acknowledge them, maybe he didn’t notice or the head trauma will make him forget it.
You’re crying now and it feels awful because you should be the one comforting him, he’s hurt not you. He holds you as you shake and places a kiss to your head.
“Can we sleep here?” He asks once you’ve calmed down. The tile floor is anything but comfortable and still you nod yes.
You fix a make-shift bed consisting of your bunched up jumper and apron for pillows and your big coat, that barely covers his upper body, for a blanket. Not that it matters, you chose to turn the radiator up and it’s hard to get cold while curled up to a human heater. You’re careful while laying with him, both out of fear of hurting him and prudence of this hurting you even more. He doesn’t care and brings you closer, your head on his chest and his hand drawing shapes on your back over your clothes, you can’t help but worry about the state of his back in the morning. 
You find sleep easier than you have since your “break-up”, his rhythmic breathing lulls you and his caresses calm you down. You’re in the before-falling-asleep-limbo when you hear his voice, he says “I love you too” like a confession secret, you’re not sure if you were even supposed to hear it. It’s too late for you to react, his words mix with the beginning of your dreams into a spiralling nonsense.
đŸ•· i really enjoyed writing this! i was thinking of maybe doing a part 2? tell me your thoughts if you dont mind too! i haven't written anything that isnt academic in years and i feel rusty
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