#it always confuses me and throws me off. even in game they are refered to by their given names | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tteokdoroki · 2 years ago

Note

aali………please please tell us exactly what Rin said about Isagi not being able to fuck that had Egoist Yoichi baby boy fuck reader right in front of Rin 😭 i KNEED to know I must know babes or I’ll go insane

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— lost in the lights, out of my mind + yoichi isagi, rin itoshi.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — rin itoshi has a bad habit of dishing out what he can't take and a locker room fight with his rival, yoichi isagi, leaves him in the most vulnerable place he'll ever be in. all because of his little unrequited crush on you.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! heavy!smut, porn with some kind of plot, characters aged up to 20s, established relationships (with isagi), unrequited love (rin lmao), some crushing, manipulaton, reverse cuckholding (?), voyuerism, unprotected s!ex, clothed s!ex, fingering (f!receiving), finger sucking, nipple play, body worship, dry humping, multiple orgasms, male masturbation, overstimulation, edging, orgasm control, aftercare, light!degradation, light!dacryphilia, light!sub/dom dynamics, sort of a threesome, creampies, psychologically tormenting rin lmao!!! pro player!yoichi isagi, pro player!rin itoshi, fem!reader - not beta read !

⭑ words — 8.5K.

⭑ notes — happy birthday tew me!! this is my gift to you all, i feel like its such a tradition for me to post something on my bday like i have for the last three years so here you are!! anon, i am so sorry this took so long, i hope you like this... i lost my mind writing it but it was sososo much fun!! enjoy my loves <3 m.list / fic that this refers to (you dont need to read it to understand!) ✩

if there’s one thing rin hates more than anything, it’s losing. after a sour defeat, three goals to a frustrating two, emotions are running high and the locker room fills with an atmosphere so tense even a butcher's knife couldn’t cut through it. it suffocates the boys as they flood into the room, defeatedtly shoving their cleats and water bottles into their cubbyholes — their breathing ragged and muscles aching.

the silence is shattered by a vicious snarl from blue lock’s main star, yoichi isagi, as he walks in last and heads straight for his rival. “way to fucking go, rin! your stupid little act just cost us the entire game.” the striker bares his fangs, frothing like a rabid dog. “you happy now?”

“oh fuck you, isagi. were all your shots supposed to be that half-assed? or was that just a weak attempt to impress your little girlfriend up in the stands.” rin fires back, equally as riled up, throwing his sweat soaked shirt into his designated cubby for this game.

the rest of the team knows not to intervene when two of their best players go head to head, slowly retreating to the showers and changing out of their kit. rin is too highly strung, everything is his way or the highway and everyone is beneath him. isagi is hot headed, switches up on you faster than you can say your own name — and only gets worse if you mention his girlfriend during a fight.

for a moment, the dark haired striker’s face falls and his deep blue eyes cloud with something rin itoshi only ever sees on the pitch. but isagi quickly recovers, offering the other player a tight lipped smile.

“let’s keep her out of this, yeah?”

that only makes rin want to double down.

his relationship with isagi is complex — he’s better than the guy in every way he knows is possible, and yet he envies him. no matter what rin does, his fellow player will always have some kind of leverage over him. whether it be sae’s approval, ego’s favouritism, you. the history between the three of you is even more confusing and flustering, and to this day, rin still doesn’t know who he wants or hates more. jealousy reaches its boiling point at the forefront of his mind, it’s perplexing and he hates the way it makes him feel — like he’s out of the loop, out of control and it only makes rin want to lash out at isagi more.

so he does.

he pokes and prods at isagi, twists at the parts of him that really set him off because he has no other way to cope and no other outlet for his build up of emotions.

“she must be embarrassed,” rin drawls as if he’s enjoying taunting his teammate, though his face shows no signs of it. “to have a boyfriend who can’t even play soccer without looking luke-warm or mediocre. this is your job. your life. and yet, you’re still not getting it. you’re nowhere near being on the same level as me.”

isagi grits his teeth. “i’m warning you, rin. quit while you’re ahead.”

but he can’t, he won’t. not until he makes isagi hurt the same way he does. for losing this match, for losing control.

“if soccer is your life and you’re this bad at it, then i wonder what else you suck at,” the younger itoshi brother adds coldly with the petulance of a child still learning how to navigate how he feels. standing up to his full height, rin smirks as if he’s finally put his enemy into place. he lets his emotions spill into every word he says until they weigh down his tongue and all he can spit out are phrases of malice. “being a good boyfriend? fucking her right?”

satisfaction curls around rin’s beating heart as isagi looks to him; wide eyed and bewildered. there’s nothing like reminding someone where they belong in the food chain. beneath rin itoshi and never above. isagi flounders like a fish before him, searching for words of defence that never come and when rin thinks that the shorter of the two might finally say something — the door to the locker room creaks open and in comes…

you.

if there’s another thing that rin hates, it’s how weak you make him feel — especially when he knows that you’re out of reach. not his to touch. to hold. to keep. you can’t be the reason he feels so open an exposed, like a patient on an examiners table, because he can’t have feelings for you anymore, because you belong to isagi. your heart beats for him and that makes rin sick.

he wants to hate you, even though you’re sweet and kind and understanding. even though you step into the room wearing isagi’s number with doe eyes that glisten underneath the white artificial light. even though your voice fills him with warmth when you call out for your boyfriend (not him) and say. “yoichi, is everything okay?” in that mawkish tone that sends shivers down the length of rin’s spine.

and like he’s been snapped out of a trance, isagi looks away from rin’s face and searches for comfort in your own — his body instinctively gravitating towards you for affection. “yeah precious, what are you doing here?” he grins at you like he wasn’t just about to rip rin’s throat out with his teeth. “thought i was meeting you outside.”

“yeah but…some of the other boys and your manager got worried that something was happening between you and rin, so i came to check on you…i hope that’s okay?” you’re so good, well behaved and it’s all for isagi. it makes rin want to scream, rip his hair out, hurt something but he can’t. he won’t because he’s never been good at feelings. he has his older brother to thank for that.

rin watches the interaction between you both like he’s on the outside looking in. isagi treats you like you’re the world encompassed into one being. yet, there’s a glint swirling in those ocean eyes rin despises so much. “more than okay, baby…actually, i think you might be able to help us make up.” isagi hums, twirling you in his arms until your back is to his chest and you’re facing rin now too.

“…i can?” regrettably, your interest is piqued. isagi has that look in his eye, the one that he gets when he’s scheming and he has all the cards in his hands. except this time, he’s not looking at you.

rin itoshi seems to be the target of your boyfriend’s games tonight — and you, a mere chess piece on the board.

“mhm…” yoichi’s voice drops, brushing over the patch in your brain that controls your pleasure. you know that voice, you’ve heard it a million times before…during showers, early in the morning, right after games. the way he speaks switches up whenever isagi wants you. “you see, pretty girl, rinnie over here—“ the striker juts his chin out in the direction of his rival, using the sweet little nickname he knows you have for him. “doesn’t think i can be a good boyfriend, thinks i’m embarrassing, thinks i can’t fuck. would you say any of those statements are true?”

you frown, lips drawn into pout and brows creased where they meet in the centre. “n-no! of course not.”

and rin thinks he might die there and then, with you looking at him like you’re disappointed in his opinion.

for as long as he’s known you, you’ve never cared about the feud between himself and your partner but this particular comment seems to bother you. upset you. and as much as he pretends to be indifferent towards you, the last thing rin itoshi wants to do is hurt your feelings. he’s never quite known what it’s like to care for someone — aside from sae, pre-spain. so for him to consider your feelings with every interaction you have is weird, at least for him. you’re a baffling enigma to rin, he finds himself drawn to you like a moth to a candle flame and finds comfort in your sugary conversation and polite laughter.

you seemed to like rin, for all his awkwardness and lack of charm. you had once called him cute despite his rough exterior and cold nature — leading him to believe that he could maybe try a little harder for you, be with you. that was, at least, until isagi came along and swept you off your feet with boyish smiles and rose tinted cheeks.

isagi could do with you what rin couldn’t do for himself.

be open with his admiration for you.

for a second, you cut the connection between rin’s aquamarine eyes and your own to glance back up at your boyfriend.

“we should prove him wrong, then.”

“but rinnie— i mean, rin,” you correct yourself when isagi tightens his grip on you as you try to diffuse the situation as best you can. “he wouldn’t… he doesn’t care about stuff like that. i know you’re a good boyfriend. isn’t that all that matters?” but in a twisted sort of way, you like that he’s a little pissed off, that rin is there watching you all loved up on each other too.

you feel his excitement press into your behind, arm wrapping around your tummy this time. “you’re all that matters to me,” isagi affirms because it’s true. he shouldn’t really care what rin thinks, but he left his rationality on the pitch. he’s pissed off and he lost and all he can think about is fucking you up and proving his point. soothing his ego. his flirtatious voice tickles the shell of your ear and sends a strong current of electricity straight down to your centre. “but baby, i wanna fuck you. don’t you want him to watch? help me prove that i’m so fucking good to you?”

he just can’t let it go, not this time.

is it because he thinks rin’s words are true? that he’s not good enough for you? that you might even deserve better than a man that puts his heart and trust into soccer?

yoichi loves you so much he think he might rip stars from the sky, and maybe the the sun if you’d asked him to. he’s so good to you, he knows that. you know it too, but he wants to prove it.

have the one up on rin just this once.

you give a slight nod of your head because maybe you’re just as much of an egoist as isagi. you don’t want him to doubt himself, he’s the best in japan. in the world. at soccer, at loving you too. he deserves to show off that much. so you agree, hesitantly, “but, yoichi… rin is still…” you say. not that you care, you’ve partially forgotten that itoshi still exists — isagi’s loving touch as he feels you up from over your jersey provides a perfect distraction.

he’s always like this with you, makes you feel like you’re the only two people in the room.

“don’t worry precious. he’ll look but he won’t touch, unless he asks and you say yes. right, rinnie?”

it’s the first time in minutes that either of you finally acknowledge rin. the stretching silence filled with ragged breathing and the rustling of clothing as rin watches you lose yourself to lust. to isagi.

“right.” he scoffs like he doesn’t care, barely able to tear his eyes away from your slither of skin revealed as you pull up your jersey to give isagi better access.

“spread your legs baby, lemme see that pretty pussy. wanna show her off.” isagi hums in satisfaction but he doesn’t push, letting you lead. “you want it any way, precious? tell me what you need, i’ll give it to you.” his hands run down to your soft tummy, resting just above the hem of your boy shorts while he grinds into you from behind. “just wanna make you feel good.”

choices, choices.

the ghost of yoichi’s touch along your skin, a thumb on your faint adam’s apple, then over your nipple — it makes saliva pool heavily on your tongue and your eyelashes flutter. “w-what do you think, rinnie?” you gasp, lifting your head to face him.

the younger itoshi swallows thickly. “fingers.” he says without hesitation. “you gotta prep her first, idiot.”

“still so rude, rin,” your boyfriend tuts mockingly. “c’mere. get ‘em nice and wet for her.” isagi points to his mouth — gesturing for his rival to open up for his fingers.

“fuck off, isagi. i-i’m not— you’re not going anywhere near me.”

“oh come on, you’re the one that wanted to prep her. my girl can take it with or without.” isagi presses, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a cocky smirk. “this was your decision, remember?”

the mere thought of doing anything remotely sexual with yoichi has the fortress of rin itoshi’s mind crumbling, starting with it’s foundation. he’s not disgusted by the idea, no, but he fears letting his mask slip. “if you’re not willing to take care of her properly, then you’re just proving my point. you’re half-hearted. lukewarm. you don’t care to fuck her proper.” rin scoffs, ignoring the shake in his voice.

“please, rinnie,” you hiccup. “he won’t touch me if you don’t…p-play along.”

but when it’s you, rin can’t ever seem to say no to you.

you’re like a siren calling out to him to drown himself in all that he desires — your saccharine and salacious strings of words setting his insides alight with wanton. begrudgingly, rin strides towards you both and grabs your boyfriend’s wrist with flaming cheeks, heart hammering in his chest so hard he’s afraid you might hear it and think him weak.

the gentle part of his lips encircle two of isagi’s fingers and is tongue, once tucked away behind rows of brilliant white teeth, breaks free from its barrier to roll over the slender digits — glazing them in a of spit. rin feels degraded, it pours through him in the same thickness as his blood and replaces all the oxygen in his lungs. but then you look at rin like you want him, dainty gaze honed in on the way his tongue weaves between your boyfriend’s fingers and soaks them in his claim. he can’t help but grow more confident in the action.

but then yoichi reminds you both of his presence, thrusting into rin’s obedient mouth until his gags and his tropical ocean eyes blow wide in shock at the sound. isagi’s own blue pair drown in mirth.

“satisfied?” rin let’s your boyfriend go with a wet smack of his lips, rasping his words out as he regains his breath.

“not really, but she can help with that.” isagi sounds like he adores you, plunging his spit slicked fingers past your swell of your plump lips so you can get them even wetter for him. you seem eager, sucking on them as if you’re chasing the younger itoshi sibling’s flavour and the visuals make his cock twitch behind his elasticated shorts as he pictures you mouthing at the ache between his legs.

once isagi is truly satisfied, he pulls out of your mouth and pats your cheek lovingly. “did such a good job, precious. i’m gonna touch you now, okay?” he doesn’t wait for you to respond since you’re too delirious, giggling on trickles of ecstasy from being pampered in your lover’s hold. his hand slips in between your plush thighs and underneath your clothes easily, yoichi dragging a single digit along the length of your puffy folds to get a feel for just how messy you are. you’re dripping with sweet juices, the scent of you intoxicating and potent to both boys as isagi eases the finger past your clenching hole experimentally.

you hiccup and tremble, your head rolling back against his shoulder the more his thickness presses into you and stretches you out for later. rin can see just how much you make isagi’s skin shine with your wetness, clear strings of it oozing down your thighs and into the seat of his rival’s palm — all this from being barely touched? from watching rin suck on your boyfriend’s fingers so pathetically? you’ve barely been touched as it is.

it only makes the throb at rin’s core that much more painful.

“don’t you even think about touching yourself to this. you’re lucky enough to even be watching her,” blue lock’s shining star grunts out to rin possessively, his voice laden with a lust that scratches at his throat. you whine out for more, hips jutting downwards to chase more of isagi and his attention switches back to you. “sorry for the wait, precious. there we go, is this alright? is this how you want it?” his softness has you melting like butter in a pan, isagi easing a second finger alongside the first before he curls them to bare down harshly on your g-spot.

the moan that escapes you is a far cry from your angelic nature in rin’s eyes, reminding him that isagi’s the one who cast you out of heaven. “m-more yoichi,” you squirm impatiently, back arching away from the striker’s chest as he used his free hand to toy with yours. “faster, c’mon—!”

“alright baby, relax. we’ll do whatever you want.” isagi moans back desperately, as if your pleasure is his pleasure. he changes the angle of his hand so that the back of it is facing rin, creating the visual of him cupping your sweltering, glistening pussy. you drool into the seat of his palm while he works you open, stroking your velvet and sopping insides like the tide lapping at the shoreline to indulge you and build the pressure that bubbles just under your naval. “oh, you like that? want me to rub your clit too? just like that precious,”

the rough pad of his thumb draws signatures of love against your budding clit as your arousal pearls on it it. every push and pull of isagi’s fingers have you a syrupy mess, glinting under the artificial lights and only drawing rin’s eager gaze to the treasure between your thighs. when he looks to your face all he sees is your insatiable appetite and dire need to run after the high your boyfriend plans to give you.

rin’s tongue darts out to wet the crack on his lips and he attempts to swallow the saliva that coats his tongue and floods his mouth — making it difficult for him to breathe. and if he does, manage to breathe in, the scent of you is intoxicating and fills rin with a level of desire his body can’t even handle. shame brews below the surface level of his skin, intertwined with the blood cells that surge through his veins and right to the tip of his shaft.

he flinches as it pulses to life inside his briefs, pathetically wet from how wet you sound.

“listen to that, fuck,” isagi groans, his lashes fluttering against the side of your face the deeper he plunges two fingers into you. “cunt sounds so pretty baby. sucking me in like that, s’like you never wanna let me go.”

the way isagi touches you is intoxicating — casting a dark veil over every thought that dares to cross your mind and clouding your better judgement. with him it’s easy to be this vulnerable and allow yourself to crumble to pieces in front of the hawk-like gaze of someone you know all too well. you find yourself not caring about the way rin watches you, pools of tropical ocean eyes dropping from your eyes to your pulsing sex where your boyfriend pinches and toys with your folds to get you wetter and wetter.

you’re fucking enjoying this. isagi knows it. rin knows it — the three of you trapped under the spell and vulgar scent of sex that mingles with the air you breathe in. you hardly feel bad for teasing the poor itoshi baby like this, finding the shaky mewls and squeals that you usually save for your boyfriend are a little louder than usual — spiking even higher when blue lock’s star egoist pulls back the hood of your clit to maximise your sensitivity and receptiveness to his touch, rubbing your juices into the little nub.

“tell him how good it feels.” yoichi is so loving but oh so condescending, commanding the will of your body as he curls his fingers just right to brush over the spongy spot inside of you to make you see the gates of heaven.

your pretty pussy gushes in response before you can, milky white running down isagi’s forearm as it gathers in the seat of his palm. you’re desperate to speak, but your mouth feels as if it’s been stuffed with cotton and your words are replaced by shaky and choked moans. between being finger fucked to the brink verge of collapse and watching rin try to grind against his boxers for friction — you don’t know how your boyfriend expects you to form a cohesive thought, let alone speak.

still, you manage to stutter out some kind of praise to him. “oh god, f-fuck, yoichi!”

when isagi hits your g-spot, you spasm so hard you think you might die and at the same time, rin’s needy whimper echoes around the locker room as if to taunt him. “she’s close,” rin bleats, the pain in his cock becoming too much to bare as he fumbles over the front of his shorts to reprehensibly relieve himself. “aren’t you gonna make her cum?”

the question is meant with no malice or harm — more innocent than rin allows himself to appear and isagi quickly picks up on it, licking a hot stripe up from the base of your neck to just behind your ear. “you can always tell when my precious girl is close,” he scissors his fingers along your insides, clear strings of your arousal keeping him tied to you. “she clenches so fucking tight around me, like she wants to make me a mess and claim me. keep me all to yourself, right precious?” he coos to you slyly, stroking you into the shape of him and flicking at your clit — arousal gathering copiously between your pussy lips. “you wanna cum so bad, don’t you.”

“y-yes!” you nearly scream, legs buckling beneath isagi’s ministrations, pumping in and out of your velvet walls with newfound motivation.

pleasure grows inside of you bit by bit, as if isagi has laid the foundation for bricks of pleasure to stack up high and the fact that rin itoshi is watching you just cements it all together. “make yourself useful, and hold her up.” he instructs, lazily sucking marks into your skin. “so selfish, rin. just like always. getting yourself off while my precious girl’s a shaky mess. you could have been helping all this time.”

a smile that could rival the devil’s tugs at your boyfriend’s wet lips when rin staggers forward to hold you up in the comfort of his arms. the path to what he wants has always been clear and isagi plays on that like it’s a part of the game you all play — knowing that rin would never give up the chance to hold you this close. you can feel the outline of his bulging cock against your tummy, the thought of it grinding inside you alongside isagi’s fingers doing nothing to sedate the desire coursing through you. your selfish need to cum.

blood rushes through rin’s ears at he way you cling onto him life a lifeline. you might be creaming on yoichi’s thick fingers, letting them stretch you out in preparation for his even thicker dick, but right now — you need rin to ground you and keep you back down on earth.

“can’t,” you whine over the lewd slushy sounds reverberating from between your thighs, and bat your eyelashes up at the younger itoshi — pride internally rumbling in your chest as the black abyss of his pupils swallows his pretty green eyes. “can't hold it, ‘ichi.” there’s nothing greater to you than humbling someone like rin itoshi. he forgets that while you follow whatever pleasure is given to you, you’ll always be loyal to yoichi isagi. hearing you moan his name only shatters rin’s confidence.

“let go for me, baby. cum all over me like the good girl i know you can be,” a deep groan takes hold in isagi’s chest, roots intertwining with his lungs and his very being. much like a sturdy tree. his thumb goes back to signing his name over it, gaze honing in between the sinful movement beneath your clothes. “get on your knees, rin. see how i fuck her nice and good.”

doing as he’s told, rin bites back his humiliation and sinks to his knees before you — keening into your fingers as they move up to grip his broad shoulders and your nails dig into his milky flesh hidden by his kit. from here, gets a front row seat to your gushing sex and how it soils the tiny threads of your boy shorts stuffed between your fattened pussy lips.

sex crazed hormones drift into the air, rattling about and colliding with kinetic energy as isagi picks up the pace — the seat of his palm now grinding against your clit, rubbing you raw and relentlessly. he bites down on your pulse point, and that’s really all it takes to throw you over the ledge. the stacks of ecstasy that had been building within the depths of your soul finally come crumbling down and your release shoots out of you, slapping to the floor in a crude manner.

“o-oh! ‘m c-cumming!” you cry out, feeling evidence of your orgasm blaze a trail down your inner thighs in clear streams as isagi guides you through it. rin doesn’t bother fighting his biological instincts, craning his head up for just a taste, a smell, anything — your sugary and musky scent sending him spiralling while heady precum oozes from his time painfully.

“ah, ah fuck, baby. keep that orgasm goin’ for me, keep cumming. so pretty.” soft praises fall on your ears despite the white noise that overwhelms you, letting yoichi control the way you twitch and react with his large hands still working you through it all — perfectly nestled between your trembling thighs. you came so much, so sweet.”

it’s like yoichi is in awe of you, kissing your cheek as you come down from your high — still clenching and fluttering around his fingers. the pair of you forget about rin sitting on the floor between your legs — bearing witness to the way your orgasm rhythmically drips out of you. it’d be foolish for both boys not to become obsessive over the way you guys. slowly, one of your hands leaves rin’s muscled shoulder to grip your boyfriend’s hair and tug him into giving you a wet and loving kiss.

“you always make me cum so hard, yoichi,” you praise him, your shaky voice sounding angelic to both men. “thank you, baby.”

still licking his way into your mouth, isagi sighs in content, circling his hips into your ass. “all i wanna do is make you feel good,” he breathes his want into you. “are you okay to keep going? we can stop right here. rin doesn’t have to see anymore.”

it’s only then that you remember rin between your legs, discreetly humping the floor for some relief — practically shaking at how bad he wants you.

“you need me,” you say, hunger curling around the tone in your voice. “we can keep going.”

isagi fucking loves you. he’s sure he’s never quite met anyone on the same level of ego and desire as him. maybe you’re both insane, beyond the brink of normalcy with enough danger between you to destroy the whole world — but instead you stick to ruining the man before you both, ripping his ego down until it’s nothing but measly pieces and rin itoshi can no longer look either of you in the eye.

a pair of eager lips land on yours once again — tasting of freshly cut grass and the sweat on your lover’s Cupid’s bow. you suck and bite on one another, leaving your claim visually on each other while your hearts remain tied. isagi grabs at your fleshy ass cheeks, takes your tongue down his throat and lets you own him just as much as he owns you while rin bares witness to your boiling and passionate love.

familiar hands yank down your shorts and underwear in one go — desperately exposing your hot skin to the air conditioned room, causing a wave of goosebumps to erupt over your body in anticipation. excitement. “i wanna fuck you so bad, i can’t ever get enough of you, precious girl.” he whispers menacingly against the shell of your ear, like it’s a threat but instead directed towards the man at your feet. “‘m so lucky,” his hands wander again, cupping your cunt squeezing your waist and pulling the sweetest sounds from between your lips. “being the only one to have you like this.”

once again, you collapse forward and dig your nails into rin’s shoulders — relishing in the way he looks up at you like you’re a forbidden prize to be won. an angel. a diety. you smile at him, innocent and cute, whimpering a breath’s width away from rin’s lips as isagi arches your back for himself — peeling apart your juicy ass cheeks to set his sights on your glistening pussy. your squelching hole pulses around nothing, sending beading droplets of your arousal through your folds.

“hi rinnie,” you simper and struggle to keep your gaze focused on the athlete, feeling isagi rub his seedy hot cockhead against the entire length of his sex. teasing the both of you. “how’s are you doing?”

there’s so much he wants to say to you. to do to you. if rin had a little more confidence and higher self esteem — maybe he could acknowledge his feelings, he could kiss you, make you his, make you forget all about isagi. but rin is a coward paralysed by his own fear of feeling something real. he lets you walk all over him instead. both of you.

“i’m good, how are you feeling?” he mumbles in response, all needy-like. you almost feel bad for him, revelling in the way rin tracks your moans, his mouth dropping open just like yours when yoichi drives his hips forwards and bullies his heavy cock past your fluttering entrance. “f-fuck, you’re so…”

“so what, r-rinnie?”

“so pretty.”

his eyes shine when he speaks, glossy with desire causing pride to curl around your heart and fan the flames of debauchery inside of you. isagi pulls back, his brows creasing in the centre of his sweaty forehead as he adjusts his tender grip on your hips and pulls his cock from the snugness of your drenched heat. he thrusts forward, hitting every pleasure spot he’s ever mapped out along the length of your slippery walls, making you shudder and press your forehead to rin’s for support.

“pretty girl, how are you still so…” isagi grunts, high-pitched and borderline whiny, choking on the spit that pools against the pad of his tongue and slips out of the corner of his mouth. “so fucking tight. god, i needed this. needed you.”

the way in which isagi yearns for you will never fail to make you melt, following your biological instinct which tells you to push your hips back and throw your ass back on him too. “it’s all for you, yoichi,” you drawl, a wet sigh lying on your glossy lips while your boyfriend's milky tips drags along your insides, churning you up just as he kisses your cervix. rin’s face crumples and you feel a little mean for getting lost in his rival right before his very eyes — but the other half of you enjoys the psychological torment you’re putting him through.

you like how at any point he could have gotten up and left yourself and isagi to your fun. but rin stays, because he likes the position of vulnerability you put him in. he trusts you, both you and isagi.

yoichi pacifies himself by latching into your shoulder with pointed teeth, licking over the bite marks as his chest rumbles in content and his hips set a steady stream to fuck you with. his dark hair tickles your skin every time he pumps his cock in and out of you, feeding your body his lust for you and painting you with opaque layers of pre between your thighs. it mixes with your arousal, clear strings slinging against your legs each time isagi’s balls tap at your sensitive clit.

he breathes his ego into you, making your face burn, making you cry out until your throat is raw. isagi has always been able to fill you up so good, his cock is pretty — decorated with spiralling blue and green veins that hit spots you can’t reach with your fingers while is shaft slightly curves, up just enough to never leave your g-spot. even when he’s fucking you from behind.

“oh precious girl, that’s it, throw it back on me,” isagi slurs, hardly able to focus on anything aside from the way you take him in — the lewd pap, pap, pap of your pussy rippling around him. “show me how you want it. how you want me to use this cock for you.”

isagi tells you encouragingly between thready breaths. he’s always been a giver, his pleasure has always been your pleasure and his end goal to make you see stars when you cum. like you, isagi always finds a way to get what he wants. and he wants you to lose your mind to him. in front of rin.

“right there, yoichi — need you right there!” comes your heavenly little whine as you throw your head back onto his shoulder for the nth time that evening. your attention tears away from rin for only a second, giving him the perfect view of your breasts that bounce as yoichi pounds you from behind and the crystallised beads of sweat that run down the collum of your throat. “y’so big, oh my god.”

“you, hah, you hear that rin? she keeps cryin’ my name, praising me like i’m her fucking god.” he somehow manages to snap to his rival.

you have an inkling that yoichi going insane since his voice drips with a huskiness that lowers its octave. he seems to lose his goal, however, succumbing to your selfish cunt that refuses to let him pull out and forces the striker to keep his thrusts deep and targeted inside of your heated core.

bliss is pungent in the air, lays heavy across every inch of your mind and you find yourself succumbing to it — once mover digging your nails into rin’s shoulders until they form pretty crescent moons on the expanse of his milky flesh and you can use him as leverage to fuck yourself back on yoichi’s creamy dick.

everything sounds so fucking nasty, and rin really can’t fucking help it. all of his shamefulness that once painfully panged at each of his nerve endings seems to have fizzled away into shameless. he finds himself no longer caring that his cock is pulsing from watching his friend ( his rival, his enemy, his … crush? whatever …) fuck the girl of his dreams to high heavens and back. with his emerald gaze laser focused on darting between your viscous and drenched cunt sucking yoichi in, and your angelic expression ( creased brows and perfectly pouty lips) — rin let’s his hand slip beneath his shorts to finally relieve himself of the ache.

he hissed at the first contact with his erection, the sound quickly turning to pathetic blubbers that make his ears burn red at their tips — because it feels so good. finally touching himself in sync with isagi’s thrusts, getting himself off to the way he fucks you, loves you. torn between wanting to be either of you. it’s a large thing to admit to himself, sifting through a maze of lust, attraction. rin has been chasing after the want to be loved for so long and somewhere along the way it morphed into wanting to be between you both.

he won’t admit it out loud, however, but he feels lucky enough to watch right now. grateful that he pushed isagi this far.

the sounds of him jerking off his crying cock, rubbing at his slit from time to time, merges perfectly with the sinful symphony of your mewls, your cries and the weightly slap of isagi’s skin against your own. his guttural moans too, and his breeder’s balls smacking down wetly on your equally wet, puffy cunt. you catch on first, teary eyes drifting down to the movement beneath the younger itoshi’s clothes and then back up to his face — which looks lighter, relieved and less tense.

“oh rinnie,” you coo, voice rising an octave — delighted by the sight in front of you and the way in which your boyfriend eagerly chases the hot grip of your abused, leaky hole. “y-you’re so cute… you like watching me get fucked that bad, hm?”

“y-yes, god yes.” he lets out a choked moan in response, his throat dry from holding back and not having spoken in a while.

you grin lazily and lift a hand from rin’s shoulder to cup his cheek, brushing away a stray tear with your thumb. one that he didn’t even know had fallen. “you’ve been such a good boy, watching so well ‘n listening to ‘ichi up until now…” even though your voice wavers, and you’re just as submissive to your boyfriend as rin is to you right now — you somehow manage to reach out to him, lick at the longing parts of his soul that crave affection like this.

“he’s pathetic is what he is,” isagi rears his jealous head while slumping over you — aiming to steal your attention away. he’s rutting into you so fast that you swear you see a blinding white light, gushing down his dick and slicking him all up with your early release. “rubbin’ one off on your stupid cock to my girlfriend even when told not to. seems like you never listen, not on the field. not here. you just live to piss me off, don’t you man.”

it’s humiliating for rin, but he likes it. stuck between your loving praise and isagi’s harsh words. “seeing her cum for me wasn’t enough for me to prove my point to you, but now she’s on my dick and you still won’t admit it.” he barks but doesn’t let up on fucking you senseless.

the hand that squeezes and tugs at rin’s sorely, hard cock only seems to move faster the more mean, embarrassing shit isagi spews at him. tearing the younger player down but making him feel this amazing. he can’t ignore the small spurts of pre cum that his iron hot tip releases just from having the two of you watching him. it’s evident in the dark stain that seeps through the fabric of his soccer shorts.

his cheeks are flushed and his eyelids droopy as he looks up at you, palming himself to your very vision of beauty. the three of you are a mess. you can’t help but sequel like a lamb being dragged to slaughter between rin and isagi — who tears you apart by plunging into you as deep as he can go and pieces you back together with sloppy kisses to your back, tonguing at your neck possessively.

isagi’s veiny hands grab at your ass next to pull you onto his thrusting cock, pushing anything that leaks out of you back into your clenching hole. he peels his sweat soaked chest away from your back and you whimper at the loss of his body heat — only to let out a surprised sob when he spits onto the point at which your bodies join, fucking the froth past your entrance.

everything your boyfriend does to you, has a snowball effect on rin. he no longer holds back, wildly bucking his hips into his hand wishing it were your sluice sex, or your mouth. dying to have his hands all over you the way isagi does. you terrorise his thoughts but your moans and squeaks soothe him — dragging him closer and closer to his high. you’re dangerous, rin concludes, but it only makes him want to see you like this even more.

meanwhile, you’re in no better condition — every time isagi bends you over and ravages you like this, you’re reminded of the many reasons why he is blue lock’s star player. his strong build from playing soccer all around the world pays off in he’s with you, making good use of his new found stamina to wreck your entire being and pound you all the way to hell. though yoichi is shorter and lean where rin is taller and agile, he never fails to make your brain void of any thought and your legs soft thighs with how wet you are. he fucks you like he hates you, like he’s mad at you for your own existence but he speaks to you in ways that emulate love.

“you’re milking me, precious girl,” he mutters as if he’s in awe. “you want my cum that badly? you want me?” yoichi purrs, sending shockwaves through your system and right down to your pelvis — adding to the orgasmic knots that twist there, threatening to unravel at any second. “you’re so pretty, grinding up on me. so dirty, loving how rin watches you. my precious girl.”

“‘m yours, yoichi,” you reaffirm, preening into his touch as it cascades up and down your body like a rushing waterfall. “wanna cum, wanna cum f’you.”

your admission is like a bullet to the chest for rin but he doesn’t want to give this up, revelling how you look down at him, his milky white dick and his blushing face with an expression so sweet his teeth might rot and his ears fill with your honey-like voice — melting his brain. he wants this for as long as you’ll give it to him, for as long as isagi will allow him to witness it.

“i know baby, but you know what i want, feels so much better when you wait for me,” your boyfriend’s thrusts begin to grow sloppy and irregular — indicating the approach of his own high. but isagi knows you and your body better than anyone else, knows how to make you cum so hard that you might black out. you love to be edged, and you love him even more so. you’d do whatever he wanted and then some. and he would do the same for you.

he throbs within your tightness, your pussy papping and pulsating, smeared with isagi’s thick precum that douses your puffy folds in white. the mix froths, creating a foamy ring of white at the thickest point of his length. “p-please, yoichi. i don’t think i can,” you wail in denial like you always do, the sound causing both boys to squeeze the base of their cocks and groan in unison — attempting to stave off their orgasms. “hurts so good.”

rin is reminded of just how good his rival can fuck you. even when you’re desperate to cum (and he’s just as desperate to watch it happen again) — you still have a burning hunger for isagi to control your ecstasy. he wants to give up control like that too. with you, or with his destined enemy. liquid lust rolls down rin’s dick in large waves, his eyes threatening to roll back as he listens to your moans get higher and higher the closer you are. yoichi is in no better condition, growling and chasing after your cunt as your hips attempt to run away from him.

“she wants to fucking cum, you idiot.” rin grunts, finding his voice amidst the sound of crying, moaning and skin on skin. “please, let her cum.”

“why? so you can bust a nut to my fucking girl. jeez, rin. get a fucking grip.”

maybe this is what makes isagi the bad boyfriend rin so desperately wants to make him. putting his pleasure above your own even though rin knows that’s far from the truth — almost relenting while he jerks off to the same pace that isagi fucks you with. but then you call out to him, like a siren from the high seas.

“rinnie, please touch me. h-help me cum.”

his body moves on his own accord after that, the hand that’s not getting himself off to you and his so called friend reaching between shaky legs and salty skin to fumble with your clit awkwardly. rin has never touched a girl a girl before, not even like this. but he tries to recreate it in the way that isagi does, to listen to you moan for him and see you tremble above him.

“h-how’s that?” he breathes, watching in awe as your eyes roll back into your skull.

“more.” you say. barking out the command while your cunt spews a fresh wave of juices onto rin’s hand.

your body seizes up, pleasured from all angles. between yoichi’s cock and rin’s calloused thumb drags random shapes over the pearl between your folds. “motherfucker….” the curse spills from isagi’s lips before he can stop it and admit how fucking amazing it feels to have you tense around him, warm and wet. it’s worse when rin accidentally catches his cock as it slips in and out of you rapidly, churning up your insides. “fucking bastard. at least touch her properly, rub in circles.”

rin does what he’s told, following the simple command and obediently flicking at your clit. it’s totally worth it, surrendering his autonomy to the older player just to have you tug at his hair and squeal his name. you jut your hips back and forth, meeting both boys in their bid to make you see heaven. your limbs threaten to give out on you, you pulse and pleasure tremors through you like an earthquake.

“oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” you chant like it’s a prayer.

the world around you falls away as you’re finally pushed over the edge — a bright white light flooding your vision accompanied by static fizzling in your ears. rin watches you cum a second time as if he’s witnessing the eight wonders of the world, your cunt flooding with isagi’s cum at the same time that you squirt with ease. his load floods your womb, filling you up to the brim and you feel so good you might die. a scream tearing in your throat and the knots in your lower tummy rapidly unravelling. the both of you cumming together, at last.

you can’t help it, surging forward to press your lips against rin’s, kissing him hazily, your tongue prodding through his lips — licking into his mouth. rin creams his pants at the very sensation, damn near sobbing into your open mouth. “f-fucking christ, that’s so hot.” isagi whines, slowly pulling out of you and letting the crude mix of your arousals hit the floor.

it’s only then that rin realises love is not binary. there are no clear paths to achieving the perfect love. there hat tricks or dribble techniques. love is unwinding and binding and there are too many possibilities. and that scares rin, for him to love a girl he can’t have.

your knees buckle under the exhaustion of it all and rin reaches out to catch you before you can pull away and the oxygen from reality floods his brain again. he misses you when isagi reaches you first, coddling you in his arms and kissing all over your face to calm you down and reassure you. loving you in ways rin isn’t sure that he’s capable of.

nosing your cheek, isagi coos out to you — his personality doing a complete 180. “you okay, precious. i wasn’t too hard on you, right?”

you’re so happy to be in his arms, close to dozing off. “‘m okay, yoichi. you were perfect. you always are. i love you.”

“do you need help getting to the showers? i can carry you there.”

eyeing rin on the floor, you look back up to isagi and shake your head adoringly — knowing that they’ll probably need to talk this out without you.

“i’ll be alright, find me when you’re done here. okay?”

the striker lets you back down and accepts a kiss on the cheek from you. you pad away to wash off — leaving him in silence with his younger counterpart. the tension fails to dissipate as they fix themselves, tucking away their dicks and floundering to speak.

rin watches the way isagi longingly looks at the door, wanting to be with you instead of dealing with the consequences of his actions. it dawns on him then, that he literally cannot win against isagi, that perhaps he is better than rin in all ways possible. he’s a loser. he lost to you and to isagi.

“i’m… i’m a good boyfriend. for her, yanno,” isagi says awkwardly after some time, scratching the back of his head shyly. “there isn’t anything i wouldn’t do for her…but how much i love her doesn’t reflect in my plays and she knows that. the way i love her and love soccer are different. i could never blame my mistakes on how much i care for her. it would be on me. like today was on you.”

rin can only blink back in response. “that’s true. i’m—“ he wants to apologise, but something inside him, something that he’d worked so hard to undo this past hour doesn’t let him. he can’t submit, be truthful and vulnerable. not when the setting isn’t as intimate as before.

rin still can’t let go.

something familiar — akin disappointment swirls in the blues and azures of yoichi’s eyes, but he doesn’t comment on rin’s silence.

it reminds rin of his brother, sae.

with nothing left to talk about, isagi nods quietly and shoved his hands in his pockets to head for the showers — no doubt to check up on you, be with you openly and happily, but pauses just shy of the door. he throws his head back to address rin once more.

“oh and by the way,” isagi mumbles, pushing his tongue around inside his mouth and against his cheek. looking for the right words. as if he’s holding back — saying whatever comes next against his will. “she did really like you. so, every day i have to prove to her that i was the right choice, the better one. a good boyfriend. so don’t get it twisted. alright?”

he makes his exit shortly after — leaving the younger player with no time to respond.

and rin can’t tell if those words were supposed to comfort him or not. in fact, all they do is make him feel worse.

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chrliekclly · 9 months ago

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if you ever want to talk about your thoughts on joyce .. Peeks over the corner of your blog. i love talking and hearing ppls thoughts on joyce sooo much even if they're different from my own!! and your analysis and stuff is always so well thought out

i hope u dont mind if i answer this publicly to take advantage of th request nd get my ideas out ther (also tyvm im happy u like my insane takes on these idiots, iv ben thinking abt them for almost 10 years)

i said a lot here so gnna 'read more' it

iv ben building trans charlie n my head fr, like i said, nearly 10 years. i used to view him as cis bcuz i always try to take as much frm th source material as i can wen i craft my HCs nd i had v personal (stupid) hangups insofar as him explicitly referring to his junk multiple times nd bottom surgery simply not being on my radar as a naive littl trans idiot deep in th sauce tht transmen oftn fall into w phallo being viewed so so poorly

evn still i leaned towards transmasc charlie nd always lovd moments tht let me imagine, for a moment, it being true, like his discomfort w taking off his shirt [hundred dollar baby, charlie kelly: king of the rats, the gang exploits the mortgage crisis, young charlie and mac deleted scenes, etc etc etc], or bonnie yelling abt ppl stealing her "charlie-girl" [the waitress is getting married] which i lovd to see as her accidentally misgendering him while drunk off her ass.

having grown out of my phallo issues (nd if ur reading this and u still view phallo super poorly, please do some research and grow too), ive in recent years fully subscribed to transmasc/nb charlie, and view his timeline something like this:

baby -> elementary: charlie refers to himself as a boy, doesnt "come out," simply has no idea he's afab. bonnie lets him dress however he wants and refers to him as asked. when charlie gets confused about his genitals, bonnie says his dick will grow in later lol, makes charlie wear a dress in public restrooms and tells him its just a game

middle: puberty hits and charlie gets confused and scared. bonnie puts him on blockers w.o explaining them ("my mom used to vaccinate me like every month" [the gang gets quarantined]) charlie goes on content and oblivious. STP acquired because hes "a late bloomer" and his dicks still not growing in?? weird. confides this in mac once, but he doesn't understand.

high: charlie finally registers that he's trans after forgetting theres a health class 1 day and not being able to skip it. throws him for a loop a bit but he becomes actively invested in his goals. he gets to start T and wants to have surgeries. "what guy hasnt done some extensive research on his own genitalia?" [mac is a serial killer]

college (aged): able to surgically transition (ty medicare) and continues on with life as we kno him now

joyce, imo, fits neatly into these views.

as a transmasc nb who came out young nd prefers to be seen as just A Guy by strangers, i grew up v vehemently against anything girly that might get me misgendered, but th more i began to 'pass,' th more @ home n my body i felt, th more and more comfortable i am w femininity, th more i wdnt mind putting on a dress, as long as th general public wd see me as "a man in women's clothes." n my mind, i prescribe something not exactly th same but v similar to charlie.

i see charlie "i dont really identify" kelly as afab and nb. i see joyce as a "character" he originally created to distance himself from the dysphoria of putting on a dress as a young trans boy, but that became part of him as the hard lines he drew in the sand as a child became blurry with age and self acceptance. charlie's comfort with himself allows joyce to evolve into a more solid persona, one he enjoys embodying and allowing to become a permanent facet of who he is. he's ok with being referred to as either. they're both him.

so maybe joyce comes out a bit more outside of the bathroom now.

#ask #pariskim #charlie kelly #joyce kelly #ramblings #i hav lots of thoughts nd feelings nd smday ill draw out charlie's whole timeline th way iv ben meaning to #th same way charlie holds th gang togethr charlie holds my whole viewpoint of iasip togethr #i gave myself a headache writing this post i spent more time xplaining my years of tboy charlie thinking than joyce im sry lmao #but i do lov her

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momentomori24 · 1 year ago

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I haven't seen anyone talk about it in detail if at all, so I'll just throw this out there: Is it just me, or are Ashley's feelings for Andrew very not romantic?

Just to be very clear-- this isn't me trying to sanitize the incest present in their relationship or twist it into pure unproblematic platonicness despite everything in the game being a hellish, dystopiant, grotesque, unapologetic mess (in a good way), just an observation that's been on my mind for a while.

We know Andrew is absolutely, 100% romantically attracted to his sister especially through both his inner monologues, relationship with Julia and of course, The Scene. But I never really got that same attraction from Ashley. She loves to degree where it can't be considered platonic, but there's a blunt edge to her affection I wouldn't call romantic either.

She's obviously been obsessed with him from a young age as he's the only person she had to cling to without worrying that he'd leave her. She doesn't treat him like a person, she treats him like a coveted toy that only she can play with. Between borderline neglegent parents, untreated apathy issues, a major abandonment complex and a parentified brother/psuedo-dad, unhealthy attachments and toxic tendencies can go real bad real quick. Go figure. It's possessive, referring to her brother as hers and something that's considered stolen the moment someone else has an interest in it, but it feels a lot more "innocent" than Andrew's possessiveness of her. Andrew is hers to have because he's her brother, just like how a plaything would be hers because it was bought for her-- there doesn't seem to be anything more to it than that.

I think the best example of that is their reaction to the Vision in the Burrial route:

Unlike Andrew, who is disturbingly flustered rather than reasonably revolted, she just... doesn't have a reaction to it. They've already trapped themselves in a box with each other and commited some of the worst atrocities imaginable, so she just chalks it up to another thing to add to their crimes list. Her causual playfulness and indifference to the situation is such a strong contrast to Andrew's desperate denial and really shows her feelings about the whole thing. Or lack of, as she isn't at all fazed about it. You'd think that she'd be thrilled, or excited or equally as flustered as Andrew at the thought of their relationship taking the next big step, but there isn't any of that here. Despite her jealousy, obsession, possessiveness and extreme closeness, it doesn't seem that there was ever any romantic intent involved on her end (or at least none that she knows of). Heck, she even voices her confusion when Andrew confesses he read her actions that way:

There is something funny about going through the story thinking ''ok i get it she's the obsessed yandere sister with a brother complex i see you game'' only to be hit with the revelation that it's the complete opposite way around. Basically just Ashley hitting both Andrew AND the players with the "wait you really saw me like that what did i even do to make you think that??" at the very end and it is baffling. The fact that she seems genuinely oblivious to how she comes off is both a little cute and unexpectedly innocent, but also cements just how little she grew up from when she was a kid.

But I think this line from her really encapsulates their relationship perfectly:

One way to keep him around. She won't sleep with him because of some repressed sexual tension or genuine (messed up) affection, but because she views it as transactional. She loves Andy, that version of her brother who went along with whatever she wanted and cared about her despite all her issues when no one else did. She always acts uncaring towards other people, but it's so obvious that she's lonely. That the people she cares about not caring about her has an effect on her. We see it with their mom, the way she continued to call her despite the abuse and neglect she put her through and immediately assumes she wouldn't have wanted them to find her because she feels that unwanted. We see it with her ''friends'', the way she felt so betrayed by how they basically left her for dead in that apartment without bothering to try throwing some food up their balcony. She didn't even care if they would've succeeded or not-- she just wanted someone to try. She clings so viciously to her brother because he's all she has left. She's been labelled unlovable by everyone else in her life, and the moment he leaves her for someone more stable, she's alone for good. Andy needed her the same way she needed him, but now he's gone, and Andrew is more unpredictable than ever. His nightmares have gotten better, so he doesn't need her to sleep easier at night (not that he did in the first place). He's better at having a social life too, so surrounding himself with others and getting his life together shouldn't be too hard. He doesn't need her the way she needs him anymore, but she knows that Andrew wants her, so she'll give herself to him before anyone else can if it means that he'll stay. Which, by the way, is such a good parallel to her mom's own mindset when it comes to relationships (like mother like daughter ammirite). It's so far from love; it's just blatant codependancy she doesn't acknowledge on her end, something we see Andrew both enable and take advantage of whether he realises or not. And I think that's a more nuanced, fascinating trait of her character rather than just the ''yandere sister in love with her brother'' trope.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading this messy, hopefully coherent analysis of our gravecest couple, mostly focused on Ashley. And who knows, maybe she IS in love with Andrew and I completely misinterpreted her feelings for him, but until proven otherwise I'll keep clinging to this theory. This GAME THE-- [GUNSHOTS].

#the coffin of andy and leyley #ashley graves #andrew graves #gravecest #i wonder if another reason Ashley wasn't freaked out about the vision was because she doesn't see him as her ''brother''#andy was her brother and the person she loved more than anything while andrew is the guy she clings to because he's the next best thing #but she recognises that he's not the same person he once was so that makes him more of a stranger with andy's appearance than anything else #just food for thought #proof reading this later hopefully

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solarmorrigan · 1 year ago

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I was looking for prompt lists from your tumblr only to stumble upon the newest ask game lol Anyway "Don't trust me" for anything/any pairing you want <3

It's kind of funny that for all we talk about Steve n' Eddie, this is the only prompt so far I've filled that doesn't involve any romance between them. Anyway, SEE WHAT ANGST YOU HAVE HELPED ME WREAK. Or something <3

[No major warnings, but you'd probably call this one hurt/no comfort]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

Eddie blinks at Steve, apparently startled to find him on his doorstep at seven o’clock on a Tuesday evening.

“…hey,” Steve says after a long moment of awkward silence.

“Hey,” Eddie replies automatically, then scrunches his eyes shut and shakes his head; when he opens them again, he grins at Steve. “Yeah, hey, sorry. To what do I owe the honor of this unexpected royal visit?”

Eddie still hasn’t stopped making references to Steve’s stupid high school nickname, despite Steve’s admission that he no longer cares for it. It’s starting to feel a bit pointed, but Steve reminds himself that it’s also possible that he’s just being sensitive. Eddie’s a hard guy to get a read on, but Steve knows that he likes to tease, so he shoulders past the comment and carries on.

“I brought food,” Steve says, holding up the foil-covered pan in his hands, as if there’s any way to have missed it.

And now Eddie’s back to staring at Steve like he’s never seen him before. “O-kay,” he says slowly. “Well, I’ll never turn my nose up at free food, but, uh – why?”

Steve quirks an eyebrow at Eddie. “I promised Wayne I would, remember? Like, last week.”

Eddie still seems confused. “Wayne’s not even here.”

“What?” Steve frowns. “It’s Tuesday, isn’t it? He said Tuesdays were his nights off.”

“It is, indeed, Tuesday,” Eddie says slowly, like he’s trying to explain the concept of a calendar week to Steve. “But Thursdays are Wayne’s nights off.”

“Shit.” Steve’s heart sinks a little; he knew he should have written that down. “Well – shit, I mixed that up. But I’m not just gonna sit on this until Thursday, so you should still take it. I mean, it’s for you guys, either way, so…”

“Uh… I guess, sure.” Eddie shrugs before stepping back from the doorway and beckoning Steve over the threshold. “Come on in.”

Steve follows Eddie through to the kitchen, placing the pan on the counter when directed. He’s still a little disappointed that it won’t be eaten immediately, but guesses it’ll still be pretty good as leftovers.

When Wayne had heard Dustin pestering Steve about his chicken parmesan recipe last week (his mom has been sideways asking for Steve to bring it to dinner soon), he’d mentioned that it was a dish he enjoyed, and Steve had been happy to offer to bring some. Of course, he’d hoped Wayne and Eddie would both get to try it fresh, but as long as it gets eaten, it’s fine.

“So, you said you talked to Wayne about this last week, but I really can’t say I recall this conversation,” Eddie says.

“Dude, you were standing right there,” Steve tells him. “It was when he invited me in after I dropped the kids off for your game.”

Wayne is always the one to invite Steve in, if he happens to be around; Eddie tends to wave briefly from the doorstep, or only invite Steve in if it can’t be avoided.

Honestly, Steve has the feeling that Wayne likes him more than Eddie does.

Eddie blinks at him. “Wait, you were being serious?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Shit, I thought you were being sarcastic, or that it was a joke or something!”

“Why would I sarcastically offer to bring you and your uncle dinner?” Steve asks, baffled.

“Because you,” Eddie emphasizes with a little laugh, “do not cook.”

“O-kay, except clearly,” Steve pointedly taps the foil cover of the pan, “I do.”

“Since when?” Eddie scoffs.

“Since whe– I don’t know, a while!” Steve shrugs, throwing his hands up. “Since I was twelve or thirteen, I don’t know.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie says flatly.

“What,” Steve says back, just as flat.

“Just, I dunno. In my experience, guys like you don’t really cook.” Eddie shrugs.

Steve crosses his arms over his chest, cocking an eyebrow at Eddie. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, y’know, you play sports, you chase skirts, you don’t cook. Like, you’re rich, what do you even need to cook for?” Eddie insists, as if all of this should be perfectly clear.

Steve clenches his jaw, trying to keep a hold of his desire to snap right back. “I need to cook because I didn’t want to keep living off of boxed mac and cheese and takeout pizza when I was a kid,” he grits out. “Since I was kind of fending for myself–”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure that was real hard, up in that big house,” Eddie cuts in, rolling his eyes.

Steve loses his hold. “Okay, what the hell is your problem with me, Eddie?” he barks.

“Well right now, my problem is that you’re standing in my own kitchen, yelling at me,” Eddie snarks back.

“I brought you dinner! That’s literally all I came here to do!” Steve gestures sharply to the pan sitting on the counter. “And you’re basically throwing it in my face, man, so again: what the hell?”

“I didn’t ask you to bring me dinner. It isn’t my fault you can’t keep your days straight,” Eddie huffs.

“Okay, fuck you,” Steve snaps. “I’ve been trying and fucking trying to be nice, to be your friend–”

“And it’s been fucking weird! I didn’t ask you to be my friend, either!” Eddie says, his volume rising to match Steve’s.

“But I still don’t get what the hell I did to you!” Steve insists. “You’re acting like you’re waiting for me to snap and threaten you with a swirlie or some shit.”

“You know what? Kind of, yeah!” Eddie tosses his arms up.

The premise is so ridiculous that Steve actually lets out a laugh. Eddie doesn’t even crack a smile.

“You’re… serious,” Steve says slowly.

“Not about the swirlie specifically, but the basic concept, yeah.” Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, chin jutting forward defiantly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Steve asks. “You think I’m still like that. You think I’d still– what happened to ‘actually a pretty good dude,’ huh?”

Eddie shrugs, looking for a moment satisfyingly uncomfortable. “Under certain circumstances, sure. And it’s nothing, like, personal, okay?” he says, and Steve wants to laugh again. “I just don’t really trust that anyone can really change that much.”

The admission—the verbalization of one of the ideas that Steve worries about the most—douses Steve like cold water, and he can’t help the venom that seeps into his tone as the chill sinks in.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck more could I possibly do to convince you? You think I stopped hanging out with all my old friends because – what, I got bored of them? Couldn’t possibly have been because I realized they were all turning into people that I didn’t want to be. Definitely not,” he sneers.

Eddie scoffs. “Bare minimum, congrats for not hanging out with douchebags anymore.”

“And you think I got the shit beat out of me more than once, why? Because I thought it was a cool thing to do? Because memory problems and migraines are all the fucking rage right now?” Steve presses. “Or do you think maybe it was because I got my priorities in order and put the safety of the people I care about at the goddamn top?”

That does give Eddie a moment of pause. “Okay, I didn’t know you had, like, memory shit–”

“Because I don’t talk about it,” Steve cuts in. “Because I don’t want the kids to feel bad if they get it into their heads that it happened because of them! Because, you know what? I like having them around! They’re huge pains in the ass, every single one of them, and I would actually fucking die for them. Does that sound very King Steve to you, Eddie?”

Eddie sets his jaw, arms still crossed in front of his chest. “Fine, but it’s not like you have a monopoly on getting yourself injured for their sake.”

“You’re right,” Steve says quietly. “You’re right, I don’t. And while you were in the hospital, and they were all worried about you, I drove them up there any time they asked. I had other shit to do, I had my own injuries, but I made sure they got there and they got to stay as long as they wanted.” It feels shitty, laying it out like that, like he’s trying to make himself sound good – it’ll probably only prove Eddie’s point, but Steve can’t think of any other way to make him see that Steve really has been trying. “I even got to talk to your uncle while you were unconscious, too, y’know? I mean, why do you think he keeps inviting me inside when you clearly don’t want me here?”

Eddie shrugs, silent in his frustrated uncertainty.

“I seriously don’t know what would convince you at this point. I’ve been trying to do better, I’ve been trying to be better. You told me that you care about Dustin’s opinion, and you told me what he thinks of me; your own uncle seems to like me just fine, but–” Steve sighs, running out of steam. “But fine. Don’t trust me. Don’t trust that I’ve changed, whatever, man. I can’t give a shit about this anymore.”

“Why did you decide to give a shit in the first place?” Eddie demands, looking a little lost. “Last I knew you, you wouldn’t have wanted to hang out with the likes of me, so what the hell changed your mind?”

“I fucking met you!” Steve snaps, finding some extra well of irritation to tap into. “Dustin and Mike and even Lucas have spent the last year talking about how goddamn cool you are, and how you stick up for them, and honestly? I hated it at first, but then I met you and I thought– maybe they know something I don’t, maybe they’re right about you being cool, because yeah, circumstances were shit, but… I thought the guy I got to know over those fucked up few days seemed kinda great. And then, talking to Wayne, listening to him talk about you, I thought – yeah, this guy seems cool. Like a genuinely good person, or something. Like someone I’d want to be friends with.”

It doesn’t seem like Eddie has anything to say to that, staring at Steve in quiet startlement, but Steve has no problem filling the silence.

“My mistake. Apparently, people really don’t change,” he says, and then he turns to leave.

He hears one low call of his name from behind him as he reaches the door, but he doesn’t turn back. He’s wasted enough energy over the years on people who don’t want him; he likes to think he’s finally learned when enough is enough.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #azure7539arts #hurt/no comfort #just in case #listen I STRUGGLED WITH THIS ONE I'M SORRY #solar wrote #answers from solar

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widowsistersandfriends · 1 year ago

Text

I Saw Taylor Kissing Santa Kloss

Summary: Karlie and Taylor have a secret meet up, leading to the rekindling of their relationship. However, when things start to go right, there's always someone spoiling the fun.

Notes: I had this idea for a while and decided to write it out and see how it goes! Merry Christmas Eve to those who celebrate, and happy holidays to everyone! (PS, there are 27 lyric references for you swifties!)

Also thank you @thenigotthisfamily for helping me brainstorm these ideas! Thanks for loving kaylor as much as I love you 😘

Word Count: 3797

Warnings: There's some swearing and kissing, and of course tickles, so if you are uncomfortable with that, please do not read.

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Streamers hung from the ceiling. There was glitter on the floor. Lights were strung around the giant mansion. Mistletoe was wrapped around the staircase banister. Lastly, there was a large, decorated tree with a red carpet wrapping around it. This mansion belonged to the one and only: Karlie Kloss.

This year, Karlie was throwing a massive Christmas party with all of her friends and family. Security was lining the front, checking the list of guests that were expected to attend. Karlie was busy touching up her makeup and then began setting out the charcuterie platters.

A cozy, yet festive atmosphere took over the house. The smell of gingerbread cookies filled the air as the timer on the oven went off. This party was gonna be one for the century.

Guests started arriving at the door, including Karlie’s sisters and closest friends. Each guest came with a present, as they were participating in a gift exchange. Karlie was wearing a short, sleeveless red dress, showing off the body of a true supermodel.

After about a half hour, all the guests had arrived and the party was in full swing. Drinks were being downed, snacks were being consumed, and games were being played.

Karlie was in the middle of her turn for truth or dare, when one of her security guards asked her to come aside.

“Karlie, your guest is here,” the security guard whispered, leading her away from the crowd.

A confused look formed on her face, brows furrowed as she was certain everyone on the list was there.

“Hey where’d Karlie go?” Her sister asked.

“I bet it’s her man Josh who just arrived,” someone chimed in, as the group oohed in unison.

Karlie was led to the front door, fear and caution in her small steps. Unlike her, the security guard seemed very relaxed, reassuring Karlie that this wasn’t what she thought it was.

“She wants to meet you in the garden,” the security guard said softly, guiding Karlie gently outside.

“No! I refuse! I don’t even know who it is! My life could be in danger!” Karlie shouted, backing away.

A familiar shadow appeared into the light. The tall, strong build was nothing new to Karlie. As the mysterious guest stepped through the light, a dark green long sleeve dress was revealed.

“It’s me, hi,” a soft spoken voice was revealed.

“Taylor?”

Taylor looked around sheepishly, avoiding eye contact and giving a little wave.

Karlie stared at her for a moment, not saying a word. Taylor dared a glance, looking up into those half moon eyes.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?” Karlie asked, shattering her glass on the white tablecloth nearby.

“Wait I can explai–,” Taylor was cut off.

“NO! YOU LISTEN HERE! I have spent years trying to get in touch with you. I even attended your concert for crying out loud! And what do I get? NOTHING!” Karlie shouted, her voice echoing through the mansion.

Taylor looked taken aback, knowing that it was true. She knew Karlie had tried, but sometimes you just don’t know the answer till someone’s on their knees. Oh how she wished Karlie was right now, but it wasn’t the right time.

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?!? You come all the way to my house and crash my party to just sit there and not say anything?!?” I SAID SPEAK NOW!” Karlie shouted, almost out of instinct.

What came next was unexpected for both of them. Taylor burst out laughing, hearing the difference in how she had sung it in the past.

“Karlie, what was that?” Taylor asked through hysterical giggles.

Karlie opened her mouth to answer, before a stream of her own giggles spilled out.

“Trust me, I’ll lead you to the garden,” Taylor said, gently grabbing Karlie’s hand.

The two girls put on their coats and walked to the secret garden gate, where Taylor snuck in through every night that summer to seal her fate. Now in the present day, she was experiencing her fate.

“So…chilly night isn’t it?” Taylor asked, now feeling the silence settling in.

“Yep, gets pretty cold here in New York during the winter. Of course, you wouldn’t know since you’re spending all your time at Chiefs games,” Karlie said, with a bite of passive aggressiveness behind her words.

“You really think I want to be there?” Taylor asked, scoffing a bit.

“Well what am I supposed to think when I open up social media and you’re popping up everywhere with that ugly dude,” Karlie said, as the two of them finally arrived at the garden gate.

“Look, I…,” Taylor trailed off. She wasn’t sure how she should explain this.

“Go on,” Karlie said, as Taylor punched in the code to open the gate to Karlie’s secret garden.

“I just got caught up in the moment I guess. I like being pursued, I like having the attention. I now realize it was all a money gimmick and that there’s a difference between being pursued romantically and just whining,” Taylor explained, letting out a sigh.

“What do you mean?” Karlie asked, encouraging her to elaborate.

“Well, going in I didn’t realize I was just gonna be this big green dollar sign for the NFL. And then I just got sucked in to the attention Travis was giving me that I didn’t realize how awful it looked. He just whines and blasts me on his stupid podcast about not taking his bracelet? I’m sure there’s many people who would love to give me one, and there I was giving in to this guy just because he whined. What lesson am I teaching to the young kids who look up to me? That you’ll get your way if you whine enough?” Taylor asked, as the two had now entered and walked into the garden for a bit.

Karlie pursed her lips, thinking carefully about what to say next.

“You knew I was chasing you,” Karlie said after a small moment of silence.

“What?” Taylor asked.

“Oh don’t play dumb. You literally told everyone in your vault track. You know, that line about you turning into a shrouded mystery when I was chasing you?” Karlie asked.

“Oh yeah, I remember that like it was yesterday,” Taylor said.

“I guess what I’m not fully over is the fact that you were so careful with us and I didn’t get any of that kind of publicity when I chased you. I knew you liked being pursued, and I was the one of the few who did,” Karlie said angrily.

“My mom said it was for the best,” Taylor said quietly, knowing she was cornered.

“IT’S ABOUT WHAT YOU THINK IS FOR THE BEST,” Karlie shouted, pointing aggressively towards her.

“Karlie.” Taylor said, it that oh so even tone of hers. She knew how to calm her down.

“I know you’re mad at me, especially for showing up to your party. But I did want to know. Would you have me? Would you want me? Would you trust me?” Taylor asked, hoping the reference would ring a bell.

“Betty,” Karlie said softly.

“Karlie Elizabeth Kloss. You must live under a rock if you thought I wasn’t thinking of you all these years,” Taylor said, smirking slightly.

“But nobody knows. Everyone thinks you’re happily in a relationship with Travis and that you guys are getting married and everything,” Karlie said.

“No one has to know…” Taylor said.

“Are you hinting that in the middle of the night I appear in your dreams?” Karlie asked, cracking a small smile of hope.

“Oh yeah, they’re some of my wildest dreams,” Taylor said.

“Oh yeah? How so?” Karlie asked.

No matter how confident the greatest singer and songwriter of this century was, Karlie never failed in making her blush. This time was no exception.

I..um, forgot,” Taylor said, reverting into her awkward self.

“You sure about that?” Karlie asked, tilting her head slightly and moving a step closer to Taylor.

“I’m sure Karlie,” Taylor scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“How evergreen our group of friends huh?” Karlie asked, poking Taylor’s side, referring to her dark green dress.

Taylor jumped away, avoiding eye contact and not saying a word.

“You know, there’s a party inside,” Karlie said, indirectly inviting her inside.

“How are you gonna pull this off?” Taylor asked.

“The dress or you crashing my party?” Karlie asked

“Both. You know I only bought this dress so you could take it off,” Taylor said with a smirk.

Karlie got her security guards to clear everyone out, saying that the party was over and that Karlie needed the house to herself.

“Now this party’s just for us,” Karlie said, getting wine for both of them, and handing the glass to Taylor.

The two were sitting at a small table across from each other, enjoying their drinks.

They glanced up at the same time, both getting a feeling of familiarity.

“Reminds me of the video that Vogue took down on your birthday,” Taylor said with a giggle.

“I remember you yelling at me that I couldn’t look at the paper,” Karlie said with a playful eyeroll.

“I demand a rematch of the arm wrestle,” Taylor said, fiercely placing her elbow on the table.

“Oh? You want to lose again?” Karlie said, placing hers as well.

“Shut up and fight me,” Taylor said with a competitive glint in her eyes.

“3..2..1 go!” Karlie said, the two of them going at it. Taylor was much stronger now so it was a much closer match.

The two of them were both giggling as the match went on, Taylor now reaching under the table to squeeze Karlie’s knee, causing the other blonde to yelp and lose her strength, resulting in a win for Taylor.

“That’s cheating!” Karlie cried, scooting her chair back from the table to avoid any more tickles.

“All’s fair in love and war,” Taylor said, flexing and kissing her bicep to rub it in Karlie’s face some more.

“Real mature,” Karlie said while shaking her head and grinning.

“Yeah, I’m flexing like a goddamn acrobat,” Taylor said while giggling.

The two of them relocated to the couch, now snacking on one of the many charcuterie boards.

“All right, spill the tea,” Karlie said, popping a piece of cheese into her mouth.

“What?” Taylor asked.

“I know you’re hiding more. Come on, feed me,” Karlie said with a smile.

“I just…I see the media. I see everything that’s posted. I know the truth, and everyone else doesn’t. They picture us as this perfect couple with no flaws, but there’s only so long I can lie to the public and you know I don’t like doing that,” Taylor sighed.

“I mean, they’re partly correct. You have zero flaws. That dude though? Don’t even get me started,” Karlie said with an eye roll of annoyance.

“Oh but you’ve gotten me started,” Taylor said, making a stack of crackers, meat, and cheese.

“I hate his hypocrisy. He goes and blasts the NFL for milking our relationship, and then does the same exact thing on his podcasts and interviews by dropping my name every chance he gets,” Taylor complained.

“And you know, you once said if a man drops your name then you owe him nothing.” Karlie said with a smile.

“Literally. I’m dealing with these rough emotions after what happened in Brazil, and he’s making it about himself. Like I feel like I can’t even grieve without him looking for clout and attention,” Taylor ranted.

Karlie nodded, allowing Taylor to speak her feelings.

“Like I get that we’re popular and good for ratings and media, but does he seriously have to make it that obvious that he’s an attention seeker?” Taylor asked.

“Well, he knows he’s benefitting from this more than you. He’s gonna milk that cow till it’s dry unfortunately,” Karlie replied.

“It just got so out of control. Tabloids started publishing articles that we were gonna get engaged on my birthday,” Taylor said, as Karlie snorted in amusement.

“I’ve seen you out in public with him. You are not a good actress,” Karlie said while laughing.

“It’s just hard when it’s not natural. Like when I giggle and sit in your lap, or give you that look when walking down the runway with you. All of that was so natural and my face gave it all away,” Taylor said, now breaking eye contact.

“You could’ve been a Victoria Secret model if you weren’t so dang good with words,” Karlie said.

“Well, what can I say? Words are kinda my thing,” Taylor chuckled.

“OH! And don’t even get me started on Twitter,” Taylor said, chugging her glass of wine.

“The whole shebang about how his old tweets were wholesome?” Karlie asked, refilling both of their glasses.

“YES! I do not get how people think a person who can’t spell basic words is wholesome. AND THEN, they cover up all the awful things he said in the past,” Taylor said, getting a little angrier.

“What did he say?” Karlie asked.

“Well you can thank our fans for finding it, but basically he called people retarded, made fun of gay people, called women breeders AND made fun of people with eating disorders. Something I suffered from for so long because I never felt I was skinny or fit enough. That hurts, and you know I don’t stand for all those other things he said,” Taylor said, staring into Karlie’s eyes.

“You know we’re in very similar situations. In relationships with guys who don’t match our values and views. Josh and I have very different values and people question the relationship as well. And fuck him for saying all that. It’s hypocritical for him to call people retarted when he can’t even spell simple words,” Karlie ranted.

“I just feel like it takes away all the credibility of all that I have spoken out about. I speak out for women not only in the industry but all women. I support gays and wrote YNTCD to show my solidarity. I spoke out and wrote YOYOK about my eating disorder and how I overcame it. But now everyone is gonna think I don’t mean any of it because of his conflicting views,” Taylor said with annoyance.

“I know it’s frustrating since it kinda questions the credibility of your statements, but you have no idea how much power you have. You are on top of the world right now. If you want this to end, that decision is in your hands,” Karlie explained.

“I just feel stuck. If I break up, everyone is just gonna keep going on about how I can’t keep a man and how I lead the world in most breakups. Then, if I don’t, I’m gonna be stuck with this moocher,” Taylor said, thrusting her head back into a pillow.

“Or…you could be stuck with me,” Karlie suggested, trying her best to keep her bold facet.

“W-what?” Taylor stuttered.

“You and me. We’d be a big conversation,” Karlie said while smirking.

“But what about Josh? And the kids?” Taylor asked.

“Josh already knows he’s a beard, but he got his wish of having kids. And I absolutely adore the kids, but Josh isn’t really there for them as much as I’d like if I’m being honest,” Karlie said with a sigh.

They sat in silence for a moment, both with thoughts whirling through their heads at 100 mph.

“I know you’re still mad at me,” Taylor said softly.

“I’m not really. At least not as much now. I was mad at the sudden drop off and the lack of acknowledgement at your tour, but I couldn’t help feeling so proud of you when you announced 1989 TV. I still remember when I was the first person to listen to the original album,” Karlie said longingly.

“I knew you were there,” Taylor said quietly.

“Oh, did you?” Karlie asked.

“Why do you think I kept looking up there that night? You’re kind of a giraffe Karlie,” Taylor said teasingly.

“Like that time you kept pointing to me during the Rep Tour during Dress,” Karlie said with a wink.

Taylor rolled her eyes, knowing that she didn’t have a leg to stand on.

“But you know, I still stand by my statement. You belong with me,” Karlie said, shifting closer to Taylor on the couch.

Taylor blushed and looked away, cheeks burning.

“Are you impressed that I actually know your lyrics? Unlike some Burger King looking dude,” Karlie said, making Taylor burst out laughing.

“I am. I’m also impressed by your charisma,” Taylor said, reaching for Karlie’s hand as a gesture for accepting her love.

“Awwww, look at you. You’re always so confident when you’re performing. What’s wrong?” Karlie asked, smirking at Taylor.

“You know I can take my word back, right?” Taylor asked, giving Karlie a look of warning.

“Alright fine, I’ll tease you later,” Karlie said, now getting up to put stuff away.

After washing up, the two of them were back on the couch again, both in comfy pajamas.

The two of them were still drunk, and were both a lot more bold than before.

“Ugh my feet hurt. Massage them,” Taylor said, thrusting her bare feet into Karlie’s lap.

“Fine,” Karlie said, sighing with a smile.

“Oooh yeah that feels good. This would be so nice after I perform. My feet always hurt so bad,” Taylor said, adjusting herself on the couch.

“So I’m just gonna be your servant?” Karlie asked playfully.

“At least you’ll be a hot servant,” Taylor said, squealing as Karlie ran a nail up her sole.

“Kahaharlie! No!” Taylor said, sounding more childish than usual.

“No what?” Karlie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” Taylor said, regaining her composure again.

“You’re still ticklish huh?” Karlie said, now using one hand to hold her feet down and the other to tickle up and down her arches.

“NOHO IHIM NOHOHOT,” Taylor laughed, trying to pull her feet away.

“Laughing with my feet in your lap~~” Karlie sang teasingly, making Taylor blush.

“STAHAHAHAP,” Taylor shouted, sitting up to hit Karlie on the shoulder.

“Oh no, you’re in for it. Don’t think I forgot about how you cheated during the arm wrestling match,” Karlie said, moving quickly and pinning Taylor to the couch with her arms above her head.

“IM SORRY,” Taylor shouted immediately, knowing that Karlie was going to destroy her.

“Hmm, I accept your apology but that doesn’t exempt you from punishment,” Karlie said, now using her nails to lightly scratch over Taylor’s sensitive armpits.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA KAHAHAHRLIHIHIE PLEHEHEHEASE,” Taylor laughed. Nothing was more embarrassing than this.

“Yes?” Karlie asked, grinning like a devil.

“IHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLES,” Taylor squealed adorably.

“That’s the point. The point is to make you suffer from this awful sensation and laugh so I can see that beautiful smile of yours,” Karlie said, now leaning down to blow a raspberry on her neck, earning a loud squeal.

Karlie repeatedly blew raspberries on her neck while clawing and tickling away at Taylor’s sides.

“IHIHIHI GIHIHIVE,” Taylor screamed, as Karlie relented with a triumphant grin.

Taylor laid there, panting in recovery.

“You are the absolute worst meanie head on earth,” Taylor said, as Karlie laughed.

“That’s the best you can come up with, lyrical genius?” Karlie teased, poking Taylor’s tummy.

“Stoppppp,” Taylor whined, curling up into a ball.

After Taylor recovered, she couldn’t help but question if Karlie was also ticklish. If she had ever tested during all those years she could’ve gotten so much revenge.

Taylor reached out slowly, and gently poked Karlie in the ribs, earning a jump from the taller blonde.

“Stop being a pest,” Karlie said playfully, scooting away from her.

“What did you just call me?” Taylor said, pulling Karlie into a tickle hug, clawing at her ribs.

“AHAHAHA AN ANGEHEHEL,” Karlie lied, unable to defend herself, as her arms were trapped.

“That’s not what I heard. And anyway, if you called me that I would be rolling my eyes, not tickling you,” Taylor said, as she moved her hands towards Karlie’s shiny abs.

“NO! NOT THEHEHEHERE!” Karlie laughed, cursing her muscles for being so ticklish.

Taylor dared and wiggled her finger into Karlie’s belly button, earning a jolt from the supermodel and a loud plea of laughter.

“There is nothing I do better than revenge~” Taylor sang teasingly.

“TRUHUHUHUCE!” Karlie cried.

“Hmm, I don’t know…You did a lot worse to me,” Taylor said, now getting up and sitting on Karlie’s shins.

“Now tell me. Does this tickle?” Taylor said, running her nails all over Karlie’s inner thighs.

“YEHEHEHES NOW STAHAHAHAP,” Karlie squealed, unable to kick or protect herself. Taylor was very satisfied when she ran her nails over her inner knee and got Karlie to curse.

“WHAHAHAT DOHOHO YOHOHOU WAHAHANT,” Karlie screamed.

“Nothing, I just find it hot when you’re laughing and helpless,” Taylor said with a shrug, making Karlie blush while still laughing.

Eventually Taylor let her up after tormenting her for a little bit longer.

“Your hair is a mess,” Taylor teased, as if she wasn’t the same just before that.

“You’re still worse than me,” Karlie said while rolling her eyes.

“Uh huh.”

“You know, don’t people usually kiss under the mistletoe?” Karlie asked.

“Is it too soon to do this yet?” Taylor asked.

“You’ve already sat in my lap before, so I may as well be Santa Kloss,” Karlie said, as Taylor laughed at the ridiculous play on words.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” Taylor said, as the two of them were now under the mistletoe.

“Me too,” Karlie growled, as the two leaned in. However it was stopped quickly when Karlie said she forgot her Santa hat and how it wouldn’t be ‘Santa Kloss’ without it.

The taller blonde returned quickly, causing Taylor to giggle at the ridiculous situation.

“Now, where were we?” Karlie asked.

“You were being horny,” Taylor teased, as Karlie pinched her side, causing her to yelp.

“No, you’re the one talking about how long you’ve been waiting for this,” Karlie refuted.

“You’re mine,” Taylor stated, leaning up to passionately kiss Karlie. Taylor placed her hands on Karlie’s ass, feeling the familiar toned shape she had felt before. Karlie let out a soft moan of satisfaction, making Taylor’s lips turn upwards during the kiss.

“What the hell is going on?!” A familiar voice rang throughout the house after a couple of minutes of making out.

Karlie turned around quickly, as both of their eyes widened at the sight of Josh and the kids.

There was a moment of silence before one of the kids spoke up.

“I saw Taylor kissing Santa Kloss!!”

“Shade never made anybody less gay. We’ve got some men to dump,” Karlie said quietly to Taylor before walking towards Josh to handle this.

To be continued…

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toxicwasteempire · 4 months ago

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Foreshadowing in book one for Sidestep secret.

We all know by now but did we always? How many of us picked up the clues for the first book?

I personally was 100% convinced Sidestep was a Re-Gene before I started to play Retribution. This is because my mind is huge™ (Lying). It is interesting how it isn't information the first book is withholding, it keeps bringing it up to the point it feels natural once you read it once again with that knowledge. It doesn't hide it, it's just not said explicitly.

This is not a exhaustive list. I did one playthrough and took every reference, just so you all see my point. Remember, this is all just from one playthrough.

Is not foreshadowing (or is it?) but the phrasing is interesting knowing that Sidestep was made to do undercover missions. At the start, one things they're talking about gender norms in general but Sidestep was taught those in a clinical, artificial environment, with the goal of being as unassuming as possible. Only cuckoos are socialized this way, something that separates them from other Re-Genes.

More clear impossible and this is at the start of the game. Close your eyes and imagine baby Sidestep in a test tube. 🧪👶🏻

Tech-savvy Sidestep knows the capability of modern science, they're a product of it. Is the topic of race and heritage touchy because they see themselves as having no heritage or is do they consider Re-Gene culture as their heritage. (We know they have a unique language) If the latter is true, they would also feel isolated from it, since cuckoos are set apart.

Here is The Point™ it occurs in every playthrough. The existence of Re-Gene is explained and Sidestep is shown extremely distressed after calling the Special Directive. This is the point where it's practically confirmed there's story between Sidestep and the GeniTech corporation. it's difficult to not at the very least suspect.

I mean, the whole situation is stressing Sidestep the fuck out. If her crying, sobbing and throwing up about this isn't suspicious I don't know what is.

"You see Re-Genes have NO HUMAN RIGHTS because a CEO (of a company that kicked off after moving somewhere without a bioethics board) ~~claimed~~ that Re-Genes, allegedly 😒, are not sentient. Oh, you see they can mimic 😋🤗 so if you see some acting alive that's just silly pretending Which is why they have to be BRANDED as the MINDLESS OBJECTS they are just so nobody confuses them for actual people. 🙄 They have no mind after all. Or so they say. 😒 They are used for war... Do what you want with that info."

The way Sidestep talks immediately sends off alarms. Putting aside her being a Re-Gene, it is very clear the moment the Re-Genes are mentioned, the text is also putting in question the apparently known fact that they are not sentient.

Even if Sidestep had not been revealed to be one, I would've be on the side of the Re-Genes. Made by a sketchy enterprise somewhere with little to no regulations, they're marked to make sure nobody confuses them for a human, sent to make rich people richer in proxy wars abroad. The company says uuhhm actually they have no soul so it's okay if they got not human rights. 💕 And I'm supposed to believe that? Go away

Also a journalist was straight up murdered. Como cosa rara.

So the supposedly mindless robots need to have their thoughts shielded from possible telepaths 🤔 how weird.

There's show of kinship if you chose to save the Re-Gene. You see me and I see you. We are the same. We don't deserve this.

Sidestep stop hating your body challenge (impossible)

The first one can assume she's talking about being a villain but we know better.

Kinship between Sidestep and Heartbreak. They both being treated like less than a person. I see you. You see me we are the same etc. We also get a glimpse of her life in The Farm.

If you already got the inclination to believe sidestep is Re-Gene mid playthrough, the game proves you right with texts like this.

My poor mew meow...

Being serious, one assumes their tragic backstory means Sidestep's childhood was sad. When actually is simply non existent.

#fhr #fallen hero series #fallen hero rebirth #sidestep #Re-Genes

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shmowder · 7 months ago

Note

I’ve been watching all the divorce talk/divorce angst hitting the scene so I’d like to throw a curveball in the current divorce talk and ask what it’d be like to be married to daniil because now I’m confused how a functional (or at least as functional with him as you’d get) marriage would be like

Especially interested in how a marriage with him would look if he’s put with his spouse together during the events of the game…<3

Oh my a devil's advocate! or a Daniil Dankovsky advocate in this scenario?

Lucky for you I have been imagining the bachelor's love story ever since I wrote that divorce prompt first draft.

Let me paint you a picture of a much youthful Daniil, freshly into med school, one with a glisten to his eyes and a purpose in his steps. He knows he is destined for something greater, never taking his gaze off of his goal.

To defeat death no matter the cost. To vanquish that greedy dragon that's stealing people's futures, both young and old. Disappearing into the abyss to never be seen again, snaging one human at a time.

And frankly, medicine is hard, really hard. The university itself is merciless. Yet he still takes up courses in philosophy where no one but him approch the assignments with seriousness.

Searching for the meaning of life, for wisdom in the old scriptures dating back hundreds of years old. Immortalised on leather pages and passed down from generation to generation.

Maybe the lessons of old sages are what he needs to ready himself for this seemingly impossible journey, pushing the boundary of life as we know it, lifting the veil, and facing the abyss head on.

That's how the two of you met.

Sitting next to each other in a lecture and taking notice of one another. Daniil introducing himself with a polite greeting, offering helpful input with anything you might not understand.

While it might have came off as condescending to your other classmates, you quickly found out how serious he was on his offer when you asked him to look over your notes at the end of the lecture and he obliged. Using his own notes for reference as he fills the gaps in knowledge you missed, his neat handwriting directory below your own on the paper.

And just like that, an unspoken vow was formed.

The two of you manage to find each other in every lecture you shared. Sitting together and finding solace in one another's company. He is brilliant and genuinely passionate about his studies and goals. You're kind enough to indulge his dreams, to never belittle his earnesty, and he repays your kindness tenfolds by going out of his way to help you in your studies and else.

Effortlessly charming, a true gentleman without being pearl-clutching uptight. You never have to watch your language around him. If anything, he has his fair share of venom that is occasionally let loose on those he deem deserve it.

You still can't believe he argued with the professor on your behalf in front of the whole class. You never asked him to, but he had to bring justice in his own hands when you were clearly in the right, when the professor was treating you unfairly because of some petty reason or grudge.

It worked in a way that.

The professor had it out for Daniil since that day, but at least they left you alone, which was a success in Daniil's view.

Throwing himself into the fire and coming out even stronger wasn't a simple feat to scoff at. It was impossible for your superiors to keep up with him or even win a single argument. No matter what, his own knowledge and hard work speak for themselves at the end of the day in each paper and assignment he hands in.

As the months passed by, the two of you only grew closer and closer. People admired Daniil yes but mostly for his mind, he was respected but not loved. Courtesy to his attitude and always assuming he is the smartest person in the room. Not you though, you liked those traits in him, after all his confident was more than deserved.

You yourself stood witness to just how much effort he puts in, the long all-nighters he constantly pulls in a row. The outside material he studies to stay informed. Daniil's love of knowledge and discovery burned bright.

He learns for the sake of learning rather than just to get some arbitrary high number on a test.

Yet when he is misinformed, he is surprisingly humble about it. His ego and pride, which almost spelt his doom in so many situations, get so easily pushed to the side if it meant he can broaden his knowledge about a subject he's interested in.

He always made time for helping you despite all the plates he had to balance. Going out of his way to secure the books and study materials you need for your courses, paying for them out of his own pocket, helping you revise and soak in information better.

Even lending you his own bed when your dorm roommates were too rowdy or annoying. The same person everyone claimed was stuck up, sleeping on the floor in his own room without a single complaint because he insists you take the bed for yourself tonight. You deserve rest, and he'll wake you up when it's the morning.

For a long while, you were the closest thing to a real friend Daniil ever had among the ocean of acquaintances. You enjoyed his company, the good and the bad. You didn't get intimidated by his intellectualism, nor did he ever feel like he had to water himself down for you.

He could truly talk freely without concern that his speeches might get misinterpreted as an attempt to show off or antagonise you.

Especially when he first started picking up on Latin qoutes; the impressed look on your face was to die for. The awe in your eyes made his heart swell with pride. A satisfied smile adorning his face, your praise akin to a melody to his ears.

It's what encouraged him to learn and memorise even more qoutes, to perfect his pronunciation and sound out the words when no one is looking. To put in extra effort just to shine a little bit brighter in your eyes.

The two of you were in your own world, slowly falling in love. He truly felt fulfilled by your side, looking out for someone else and fussing over your well-being and health from time to time.

Those nights when you'd let him test his medical knowledge on you, witness him start as unsure without a single clue of what to do and slowly grow more and more confident as he consulted his notes. He documented your symptoms and examined you from head to toe with focused eyes.

You watched him learn in real time and test himself through trial and error.

At other times, you got to see the hidden side of him. The beetle collection he had growing up, proudly telling you about them and sharing all the interesting facts with child-like enthusiasm.

Each year during university passed by like a dream,

Most people in college were looking to spread their wings, getting addicted to the taste of absolute freedom and losing their track to late night parties and trying everything new and taboo.

And while Daniil had his fair share of letting loose and getting absolutely wasted in the occasional parties, he still showed up the next morning to his 8am lecture whilst hungover. Enduring the pulsing headaches just not to miss out on tests.

He never once lost his track.

Yet, the only time he ever looked away from his goal was when he turned to gaze back at you, trudging behind and struggling to keep up.

Extending his hand to you, that amused smile on his lovely face as he pulled you to his side. As he helped you rise above your own expectations and meet your potential. Guiding you through every step of the way.

It came to no one's surprise when just a week after graduation they received the invitation to Daniil's engagement party.

He took you to a beautiful restaurant, the crowning jewel of the Capital's culinary arts. Saved up for a long time for it, cut cost on his own expenses, and picked up longer shifts interning at the hospitals.

It was worth it. Every single moment with you there was akin to heaven. How beautiful you looked dressed to the nines, how perfectly your arm slotted with his, how much work and effort he put into his appearance just to match you in glamour.

Doctor Daniil Dankovsky, after six long years, he finally earned that title. And you were there in every step of the way.

You are truly irreplaceable in his life.

So would you indulge this selfish man one last time and spend the remains of your days with him?

He earned an even better title that day, your betrothed and fiance Dankovsky.

But like every star that shined brightly and stood out in the night sky, it burned out even faster than the blink of an eye.

Daniil wasn't restrainted by the university rules anymore.

There were no lectures to end and force him to go back to his dorm. The hospital shifts would be extended as much as his body physically allowed before exhaustion took him out.

The sky is the limit. The real world was Daniil's real freedom. With his degree in hand, he could easily join any slightly intriguing research program or start his own. He could establish connections and correspondence with the most experienced aged doctors in his field.

His theories were taken seriously by other scholars, he actually looked forward to attending discussions and meetings with people who were intrigued by his proposals, his reputation soaring through the sky with every research paper he published.

It was endearing for you, to watch him achieve his goals. Reap the results of everything he carefully sowed and maintained. To him life just started, the opportunities were endless.

To you, however? Not so much. Yeah you had your degree now, but with fundings being shoved onto Daniil's hand left and right by investors who saw him as the one who'll finally invent the next philosopher's stone, immortality, you didn't have a reason to work. Seated at the lap of luxury in a comfortable life with your fiance.

Your fiance, who's time together with you, was shrinking more and more by the week.

By the time he founded Thanatica, journalists were tripping over their own feet to land an interview with the most famous thanatologist in the country. The Bachelor of Medicine is finally home.

The changes were so gradually that no one can ever blame you for not noticing them. He still doted on you and cared for your health, but more with a jaded doctor's mindest who has seen it all.

His hands are cold as he examines you, experienced touches and bored eyes. The same person who once struggled to measure your heat rate years ago. Now, effortlessly drawing your blood through a needle with light hands, reminding you to relax your body.

Something felt amiss, you'd stare at his deep brown eyes and feel like you're forgetting something important.

You can't pinpoint exactly when that nagging feeling started.

Maybe it was when the date nights became less and less frequent, when last minute flowers bouquet would substitute for the heartfelt letters he used to give you each birthday and valentine's.

Or maybe when he kept postponing his own wedding because he was just on the verge of a breakthrough and could not afford a distraction at this time.

That so-called breakthrough taking years and years.

The two of you were the first of your class to get engaged, and yet almost everyone you've known in university is married with kids by now.

There are times, however, when glimpses of the past replay themselves. On an early morning when he's still in bed with you, cuddling to your side, his hair a fluffy mess as he scrunches his nose at the annoying sunlight falling against his closed eyes.

The times when he's self-aware of his own shortcomings, when the two of you are home after a long social networking party.

A half-drunk Daniil carelessly throwing his newly bought snakeskin coat onto the couch. Smiling at you with alcohol sourced confidence. Only he manges to pull off being endearingly smug so naturally.

Sucking up to rich people and investors all day, endless politics and hidden motives, this game of chess is growing dull.

Daniil wrapping his arm around your waist, bringing yours around his neck. One step, then two, a slow dance in the living room. How gracefully he manages to move his body while the wine seeps into his system, how playful he is as he twirls you around.

Forgetting the world outside, dancing despite the knowledge that death always lurks by.

How he confessed to you that if he could pick a moment to die content, it'd be this one with you in his arms.

Just for a moment, everything is okay.

...

Until the morning comes again.

And you're leaning against the doorstep, sleep weighting heavy on your eyes. Daniil's finishes putting on his shoes before giving you the usual kiss on the cheek.

the cold air stings your bare skin when he opens the door. The skies are dim, wind howls in the empty streets at early dawn.

You close your eyes, and the sound of the door slamming shut follows by.

Slow steps leading you back to your still warm bed, empty now. The covers engulf you, soft and comfortable.

And alone.

Time distorts, three days pass before he's back home. Three days of prefering to sleep in his office than spare a ride back home.

Goddammit.

You're not mad, you tell yourself.

How can you be mad? Not when he looks worn to the bone, not when he barely has the energy to take off his shoes before collapsing into the bed.

Months pass, you've stopped keeping count. The promised breakthrough finally arrives. The world forgot about Thanatica and Dankovsky for a while but this? Oh this revelation sets the country ablaze.

"Thanatica's team successfully bring back the dead" Is what the frontpage of the news claimed.

In reality, it was an experiment, an attempt to revive a small amount of dead cells, and re-energise the dish sample.

An attempt, which was finally successful after a prolonged battle, when the foretold dead cells sample with great potential finally revealed itself.

You attended, of course, you had to be there for your husband... No, fiance. yes, your fiance still. Sitting beautifully at the front row, a seat he reserved just for you.

Watching him from down below amidst the crowd, gazing up at him as the lights of cameras flash against his skin. Realising just how unreachable he appears so high above.

How small you felt in contrast.

How the room held its breath on his every word, how he looked truly in his element. Under the lights and showered with the attention of hundreds of people at once.

The acid in your stomach turned, your throat closing around itself.

How could your attention alone compare? Is it even enough?

So you sat there like any supportive partner would. Waiting for him to come to you, each time he meets your eyes, his attention is immediately stolen by a journalist wanting an interview. Each step he takes towards you is interrupted by a colleague blocking his way to give their congratulations on this amazing achievement.

How Daniil indulges every one of them, never brushing them to the side. No, it's you who gets the short end of the stick each and every time, losing to complete strangers.

It takes an hour just for him to arrive at your side.

He looks at you with the same glisten in his eyes, he has finally did it. Another achievement, another win, another trophy earned.

And he's expecting your praise.

The same look he gave you many years ago when he'd learn a new Latin phrase and wait for your impressed reaction.

You look at him with contempt, wondering if he even remembers that endearment name he used to call you by. Mea vita... how long has it been since he called you that?

Were you still his life?

You smile, forced and tried, it's still a smile.

He doesn't buy it, he's not an idiot. Something is wrong but he doesn't open his mouth, too aware of the eager journalists eavesdropping around the corner, of the cameras pointed his way, your way.

Thankfully, you can drop that smile after a brief moment since Daniil spots someone across the room, an important figure from the inquisition itself. His eyes widen for a second before he's immediately abandoning his seat and leaving you behind.

So you sit and wait. Hands in your lap, counting the seconds until it's time to go home.

That day marks the first time you experienced a real serious fight with him.

Sure you had your disagreements before, but the two of you managed to stay civil and always compromise. Daniil made it a great deal to point out how neither of you should ever stoop so low to the point of yelling or insults.

Oh how the two of you always made fun of the other couples who fought. Saying how it can never happen between you two, it was just impossible.

Reviving the dead wasn't the only impossible feat achieved that day.

You've witnessed his anger, you are very familiar with his venom and fangs.

You just never thought you'd ever taste it one of those days.

It was always directed at the unjust, always a symbol of protection to you.

Daniil got too accustomed to getting his way, too used to you being the pliant spouse. To always understand why he had to cancel that date last minute or why he couldn't keep his promises.

To wait for him home.

He gets to see you when he pleases. You have to make appointments and take into consideration his schedule. Even then, he might not always show up.

This thread has worn thin. It was only a matter of time before it snapped.

The next day, guilt eats you up for what you did, regret churns like poison in his stomach.

He's the first to apologise, to humbly ask for forgiveness after taking time alone to collect his thoughts.

You accept it, because the love you shared could never die. If you don't accept Daniil Dankovsky in this life then who else will? Who else but you can accurately read his mind? Who else endures all his shortcomings for the brighter future?

Who else but you can understand?

Maybe he's too ahead of himself when he sits you down and gives you a list of promises to hold him accountable for. Admiting he has been less than adequate as a partner, but he'd rather learn and better himself than stay in the past.

You look down at the paper, and the wedding is at the top.

Gradually, the two of you work together. You speak up more, and he learns to listen better.

The wedding preparation period put all you've built to the test, to say it was tense would be an understatement.

There were so many things to take into account, so many people to impress and invite, so many people to visit and trips to the bakery, tailor and so on.

So little time.

Daniil had to take a break from Thanatica for a while, he couldn't be in two places at once, and he really, really tried.

It left him restless, ate him up at night.

But seeing how much happiness his presence provided you during these important moments and decisions helped ease the ache in his heart.

Despite it all, the wedding finally arrived.

It was beautiful, perfect in a sense. Fitting for a fairytale, Daniil glowed under the glittering lights in his white suit, you looked absolutely divine.

For once, you too stood in the spotlights with him.

You could built a castle from the amount of congratulation baskets and flower bouquets sent to your address. Important people taking the time to attend your wedding and offer you the best wishes.

Alas.

If this was a real fairytale it would've ended there, the hero wins back his love and archives his dreams, everyone is happy.

The End.

The real world was harsher, brutal even.

Eventually, all walls need demolition.

And even the sky might come crashing down.

All the effort he made, all that you've built together, slowly decays.

Feelings of being unwanted, undeserving and unloved plagued your mind.

Obsessions drove his actions to achieve more, surpass more expectations, earn more fame. Neglecting his now spouse in his crusade against death.

In a more merciful timeline, the two of you are still married in the events of pathologic.

In that life, you made space for yourself in his world instead of waiting around. It was you who insisted you accompany your husband on this long journey to this unkown town.

Daniil held objections and concerns for your safety, of course. But eventually, you won him over be it with wit or earnest honesty of why you want to come along.

Not to mention, he does find himself working better when you're by his side. A stark contrast between doing his research alone in a cold empty office all night and the college days when he'd invite you over while he works on assignments.

Just having you nearby immediately boosted his efficiency, looking up from the headache inducing theories on the paper to glance at you sitting on his bed, doing your own thing, did wonders to his morale.

A married Daniil immediately puts a stop to all the flirting from anyone who attempts it, be it Eva, Maria or Andrey. He ruthlessly shuts it down and tell them to not bother, they don't stand a chance.

The sucking up to him however? yeah... he still eats that up. Your husband might be a clever man but if someone strokes his ego, he becomes more prone to falling to manipulation.

You would've advised him not to take the murder case, not to involve himself with the Kains or accept to help them.

Except that you weren't there at the time. You were still exhausted from the train ride and Daniil told you to go to sleep, he won't go far, just going downstairs to thank Eva for her hospitality by offering this room to you two.

Of course one thing lead to another and curiosity took the best of him, of course he went to the Kains alone and immediately fell into their mouse trap.

By the time you're informed of what happened, it's morning on the second day, and he has already digged himself into a hole by involving himself too much in this case to back out now.

He's an idiot, a clever genius idiot who needs to stop chasing shadows on walls.

But he is your idiot, the ring proves it.

So you guess a murder investigation case is what the two of you are doing now. Daniil isn't embarrassed one bit as he asks you to be the Watson to his Sherlock. Even when you point out that he'd fit as Watson better since he was the doctor and all, he still insists that no... his version is better.

Two people working together definitely speeds thing up. Daniil struggles to remain a gentleman in this semi-apocalypse of a plague. On one hand he wants you to stay safe inside at night and not risk running into bandits or looters, on another hand his rational mind makes a good argument of why its necessary to teach you how to use a gun if you didn't already know.

You put his lousy pistol to shame, to say the least.

But if you were someone who's experienced with a dangerous life, the roles would be almost reversed as he asks you to come with him during his nightly errands... No, he doesn't need protection he just....

Ugh, fine, yes. He wants you there to watch his back and murder others for him, so what? He is your husband, and you love him. It is his right.

His progress moves much smoother. While it would be more efficient for the two of you to split and do seperate tasks, Daniil would rather you stick together.

Deep down, he is genuinely worried about you catching the plague. The idea itself horrifes him to the core. No matter how capable you are, he still makes you wait outside the plague infested house while he conducts his business inside.

Actually he'd prefer it entirely if you waited outside the infected District but you're too stubborn and he hates the fact that you learned how to best him in arguments after being together for more than a decade.

While the physical benefits of having another person around are nice and all. The mental benefit of having a real friend, a lover, and a spouse by his side during this showdown with death is the real golden line.

He'd never have had his breakdown in the usual game events, you'd have kept his sanity intact had you been by his side.

Put all his whispering voices in his head to bed with a simple touch, melted all the self-loathing away with a kiss.

Caught him in your arms as he fell down from grace.

As the realisation that he is just human, just one man, downed on him in cold blood. That he is so much weaker than he thought, that despite all his effort and studies, there is so much he is ignorant about when it comes to healing and medicine.

That he was sent here to die.

And like a fool he dragged you into the grave with him, he should've been more firm, he should've never allowed you to come along.

But by the gods, you're here now, and he can't change that. It absolutely pains him to see you go through the same strife.

And Daniil doesn't even believe in a god but he still carries that cross around, just in case he's desperate enough to get on his knees one day, to beg their merciless eyes for your life to be spared.

At least you'd be the one to sing him to his eternal sleep. The words he told you during that dance still held true,if he ever could choose his own death, then he'd be content to die in your arms.

But you must remain alive, at all costs.

You must survive.

More than once he attempts to make a deal, to throw his morality under the bus if it meant someone could provide a way for you to escape from this town.

Willing or not, he will get you out.

Because at that point he lost faith in all of his skills, his degree as a doctor might as well be a glorified napkin. He knows that he knows nothing.

Wow that was long. I hope you enjoyed it anon!

Writing it was fun, especially young Daniil <3

#Beep bopp beep #Who reads tags anyway #♧Daniil #♧x reader #x reader #pathologic x reader #daniil dankovsky x reader #♧romance #♧fluff #♧angst #♧ex daniil #♧husband Daniil #today I ate a banana #and drank lemonade #it was tasty #now my blood pressure is down because of the lemonade and I'm stuck in bed #If i get up i might faint #but if i don't get up i can't get the sugar or salt necessary to rise my blood pressure #what a fucking joke it is to own a body

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lore-of-the-mushroom-kingdom · 6 months ago

Text

The Sports, Karting, And Party games Are Canon.

So something people often do is claim the spinoff games are not canon to what is considered the main games, let alone to each other. So this post is here to provide the evidence they are canon.

First off for confusion about character portrayals in these games click here.

So first off, I have had people claim that Nintendo said that the spin-offs aren't canon. A source I was never provided with. Such a claim always throws me off given Nintendo seems to always treat the spin-offs as canon. On the about section for Mario on the Nintendo Website. The about says this "You may know him as a famous plumber, but he’s also a kart racer, sports star, caped hero, and more!" As for Mario's description on the website it says, "Mario excels at sports including tennis, golf, baseball, soccer, and even kart racing. He's good at all of them! He's a plumber by profession but is really a jack of all trades." Note how it doesn't say it's a different Mario but rather refers to Mario as the same person doing all these things. Calling him a jack of all trades, keep that last one in mind it will come up again. In addition to this Peach's description says "Princess Peach is always game for a variety of sports, and also enjoys baking and cooking." The Encyclopedia says "Being ambitious and multitalented, Mario has tried his hand at all sorts of sports competitions."

In Super Mario Odyssey, 2 outfits Mario can get and wear are the Racing outfit and Mechanic outfits. So not only are these outfits Mario kart themed, but they also have some Mario Kart Sponsor logos on them. This is an acknowledgement of the karting games in a game considered "mainline." Another one is when Super Mario Sunshine listed off both Super Mario Kart and Mario Kart 64 as having taken place prior.

In Mario Party 9 the Princess Minor Constellation says the following about Daisy. "A constellation named after a princess who enjoys tennis, golf, soccer, and not getting kidnapped." This is the Party games making a connection to the sports games.

In Mario Superstar Baseball in the Exhibition Records we get a description for Mario that says the following. "A kart racer, tennis player, golf enthusiast, doctor... The list goes on and on, showing he's a jack-of-all-trades." Again connecting the various games and a repeat of the jack of all trades claim. Again in MSSB we have the DK's description saying "His talents lie in beating on his primate foes and kart-racing."

In a previous post I brought up that in Paper Mario 64 Luigi's Diary says the following. "I remember the carefree days when we played Golf and Tennis and had Parties." I also previously mentioned in a post that Luigi's Kart shows up in the Origami King. But it also happens to show up in Color Splash as well. Also, in Color Splash Bowser says "MARIO?! What are YOU doing here/ Do we have a kart race scheduled for today?" Yes the paper games are canon.

In Super Mario Run there are some statues one can get, one is a Mario Kart Statues. Not these statues and other objects do give lore about the Mario world. Another one is a Blooper statue saying "Blooper from Mario Kart now immortalized in statue form!" You have the Banana statue saying "This banana peel can cause a lot of mayhem in Mario Kart!" Finally in the video 51 Rapid-Fire Questions About The Legend Of Zelda: Breath Of The Wild, Miyamoto said that it's always the same Mario when asked if there is multiple Mario's in reference to the games. This matches up perfectly with what the Nintendo website, Mario Encyclopedia, and MSSB description are all saying. So with all this information it should be quite clear that the sports, karting, and party games are all intended to be canon. That it's always the same Mario.

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fentrashcat · 5 months ago

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Been a while since I talked about my Tourette's gremlin but some new occurrences! I'm in a waxing period of tics ig bc I've just been GOING with them. Kinda really sucks so trying to look on the bright side and wanted to share some recent occurrences.

1. Mom and I found a new tic loop. (My mom is not diagnosed with any tic disorders but does have verbal tics, usually echolalia or like a call/response thing idk what to call it). I was playing with the puppy and was saying like "did you get got? You got got?" At that same time my mom (who was playing a game) says "Oh, I got mail". IMMEDIATELY Tourette's Gremlin goes "You've got mail" in the old AoL voice. Mom's call/response is set of and she does the little like notification jingle. Jingle set off mine again, which set off hers. We went back and forth for almost 5min before she was able to suppress hers and break the loop. Now though I'm getting the urge to tic "you've got mail" at random.

2. I swear my Tourette's gremlin is actively trolling me. So obviously I refer to him as a separate entity, and I often speak out loud to him (like telling him "we aren't doing that" "don't you fucking dare [throw food]" "are you pleased with yourself now?") The other day I was getting a bout of tongue clicks, which I usually only get 1-3 at a time but this was going on way longer. It wasn't painful or anything, just annoying so I say out loud "is this really necessary?" They stop for about 5 minutes, and then I get one more. This led to me saying "Alright then, sassy" which caused my mom to think I named the gremlin Sassy (we had a dog named Sassy). I told her "nope, its name is just gremlin." And the bout of tics came back... Maybe he does want a name lol.

3. I've talked about my older cat before in a Tourette's post, she's the one that trained herself to help my tic attacks. However my younger cat usually just ignores them. During the incident in 2, I was whistling as well. It's a semi-distinct two-tone whistle, think like the opposite of a wolf whistle (tbh, I think it's from Facebook messenger but I'm not sure). Anyway, I was doing the whistle and my younger cat came up to me, put a paw on my knee, and did a two-tone meow in the same cadence. She's mimicked before, learning how to almost say "hello", "yeah", and "no", but she'd never mimicked a tic before. I was so surprised it actually got them to stop for a bit.

4. We're getting some house repairs done and my grandfather was over talking to my mom. He said something about the ducT work, but my brain heard ducK work, and set off a "duck-duck". It confused him so much he forgot what he was talking about by the time we explained what happened, and he just kind of left. Later I was with my grandparents and my grandma was worried about a decorative duck she has up blowing away. Of course I "duck-duck"ed and grandpa goes "don't you know you're not supposed to say that? It'll trigger her." "Say what? Duck? Why not?" "I was talking about something and she heard that bird's name and set off." "Fine then, can I say water fowl? Make sure the water fowl doesn't blow away!" This is all in good fun of course, they like to tease each other and know I'm alright with my tics being used in it.

5. I think I mentioned before one of my weird triggers is fancy candy apples. Specifically the ones that are like caramel and chocolate with a bunch of toppings to make flavors (like rocky road, cookies and cream, ect). We went to a little craft show type thing and one of the vendors right up front had a big display of them. When this happens we always get me at least one (usually two), but we have to get it at the end or I'll be too excited and be ticcing the whole time. We got two before we left and, as expected, I ticced the whole way home. It was a lot of tongue roll tics (like rolling your Rs, if that makes sense). From my tongue hitting my teeth so much I ended up hurting it a bit and had to wait like 2 days until it was comfortable enough to eat even if I started ticcing again. It had to be kept in an opaque bag in the fridge so I didn't set off everytime I saw it 🤣

6. I'm currently in what I'm calling "jukebox mode" because I cannot keep the songs in my head IN my head. As soon as something reminds me of a song lyric, I HAVE to sing it a little. Some from today were "Oh the lights went out" 🎶when the lights go out in the city🎶, "that was a long fall" 🎶it's a long way down🎶, and "I've got mouths to feed" 🎶I got bills to pay and mouths to feed, ain't nothing in the world for free🎶. Also been singing Skip to my Lou, and I'm blaming airhead commercials.

7. I got reminded of a post I saw here, and almost developed a tic they have without ever meeting them or having heard it. (I don't want to say exactly what it is bc I think they read these and I don't want to accidentally get them started or anything)

8. Was playing Skyrim again, saw a skeleton, and immediately ticced "hello moto!" No idea why. I can usually find SOME connection but not this time. I've gotten that as a tic before but usually due to the commercials.

9. I've started ticcing "duck-duck" at jeeps with anything colorful visible on their dashboard. Who knows if they are actually duck-ducks everytime or what, but the gremlin says they count.

Thank you if you read this far! I can't really tell if these are actually entertaining or if I'm just looking for ANY light spots. It's been a tough few weeks, but fingers crossed it starts to lighten up soon. For anyone curious the songs were "when the lights go out" from Family Crest, "it's a long way down (to the bottom of the sea)" from I think the Longest Johns, and "no rest for the wicked" from Cage the Elephant.

I think the gremlin wants a name now though, so if you have any suggestions let me know lol.

#fentics #tics and tourettes #ramble #little stories #tics #tourettes syndrome #tourettes

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thorniest-rose · 2 years ago

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............ okay now im continuing to have thoughts about gareth and eddie

watching basketball practice or games, lurking under the bleachers, muttering to each other as steve harrington bounces around the court, all lean, slim arms and pretty thighs and bouncing hair and of course that round ass of his. imagining sneaking into the locker room after the game or practice, one of them behind him and the other in front as they corner him in the shower.

and like ,, eddie doing his tabletop speeches and declarations but he keeps slipping in reference to pretty princess steve, to the pretty golden boy, to the way he'd absolutely look so pretty on his knees. they're little lines but they confuse the fuck out of steve, who blushes and thinks about it late at night. and eddie doesn't care if the jocks all call himself a f*g when he does. gareth, less theatrical than eddie but the lyricist of the band; starts slipping steve little notes during class or into his locker. lines abojt mole-freckled skin and pink mouths and a pretty boy with a fuck-me mouth / on his knees begging let me suck you down.

oh my god??? Okay, obsessed with the idea of the two of them watching Steve as he plays basketball. Just know they'd love it, seeing Steve stripped down to his little team uniform, or at practice when he's just in his shorts and peels his t-shirt off when he gets too hot. The two of them practically drooling at the sight of his gleaming freckled chest. They probably steal the t-shirt when he's not looking, take it back to Eddie's so they can smell his sweat on the material and pass it between them to jerk off with it.

But omg I love the idea of them talking to him when they're at school too. Eddie always the more confident and daring one, getting right up into Steve's space when he's alone and calling him "pretty boy", telling him how darling he looks, how precious, laying it on so thick because it's funny and Steve blushes so sweet. From embarrassment and maybe because he likes it just a little.

Gareth, the quieter and more sensible of the two, doesn't think they should be talking to Steve at all, or drawing attention to the two of them, because one of these days they're gonna get beaten up by Steve's asshole jock friends, but Eddie can't help himself, he loves it when Steve's giving them attention even if it means he's annoyed. But Gareth also can't help staring at Steve, and like you said omg, leaving little notes for him?? Lyrics?? He never puts his name on them but watches from a distance when Steve finds them tucked between the pages of his books, and even though he frowns and goes pink, he never throws them in the trash either and Gareth loves the thought of Steve taking them home and maybe putting them on his bedside table where he can read them before he goes to sleep. Wonders if maybe Steve touches himself after reading them, all flustered from the praise and pretty words, and gets so hard thinking about it he has to go to the boys' bathroom and find an empty cubicle so he can jerk off. Something Eddie makes fun of him endlessly for doing, as if Eddie's not doing exactly the same.

#asks #steddie #steve x gareth

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jsprnt · 1 year ago

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Healing Hearts PT.8 | Virgil van Dijk

Would a fresh start bring you more than just a new job?

WC: 3.280

Summary: Y/N L/N is a very skilled and praised physiotherapist. A certain event pushing her for a fresh start, as a physiotherapist for Liverpool FC. One question always being in the back of her mind: Will she be able to let go of her past and allow herself to experience new things?

I throw my heavy bag onto the red chair, placed in the corner of the medical room. The match today was against Aston Villa, and I was insanely nervous, but curious about how it would play out.

Not having Virgil in the starting center-back position, was something unusual. Though, we did have Joe and Joel to take care of that today and surely they would be more than capable to successfully defend the team.

I walk back out to watch the warm up, coming across Ryan as I walk towards the tunnel.

"So, how do you feel? Does it feel real to become a Liverpool player?" I ask him.

"Feels insane, I'm so excited to watch the game."

I pat his shoulder, giving him a smile.

"You deserve it. I've seen you become an amazing player. I'm sure you'll fit right in."

We both walk onto the pitch as I give him a second to take the stadium in. Anfield was definitely a beauty to observe.

I greet the players as they walk onto the pitch, observing them carefully for any injuries. Thankfully, no one seemed to look uncomfortable or injured.

I walk back into the medical room, sitting down and watching the match kick off. Getting fully invested into the game, eyes piercing the flat screen as if it would send the ball flying towards the goal.

Only three minutes in, Trent is given a corner to kick. He shoots, totally missing everyone. I stand up from my seat, nails digging in my palm as I watch the screen intently. Dom gets the ball as it kindly drops in front of him and GOAL. His first Liverpool goal!

I cheer to myself, a bright smile planted on my face as I hear the stadium erupt in cheers, yelling being heard through the thick walls.

A sudden hand makes contact with my arm slightly gripping it, surprising me. I whip my head around, eyes widened and fist clenched as I raise it almost punching a shocked Virgil. He stares back at me. I drop my fist immediately, clearing my throat.

Why the hell was he here?

I had been overly sensitive and aware of my surroundings lately, dropping my guard for a bit made me realize how tense my body actually felt.

"What the fuck? You surprised me!" I swear, brows knitted in confusion.

He smiles sheepishly before letting go of my arm, something glistening in his eyes. "You almost beat me up!" He exclaims loudly.

"Of course I did. I was just chilling and celebrating. You just shocked me by grabbing my arm duh!" I say, hands now planted on my hips.

"I'm sorry, I'll knock next time. I promise." He says, walking to sit on the medical bed. I can't help but watch his movements, his tall frame walking away from me. I observe his outfit, and raise my brows. Still in club clothes, even when he's not playing.

"You're-I didn't know you'd be here. Thought you'd be home or at the training center." I say, standing up to go up to him.

"Decided I'd come to support my team. A captain should always be there, right?" A cocky smile placed on his lips, he folds his arms up to his chest. He's practically man-spreading as he looks down at me, since his frame was still taller than mine, even when he was sitting.

My eyes travel up and down his stature, raising my brow at his comment. My heart skips a beat when I notice a bit of smugness in his eyes.

"Well, captain does that title include lashing out at the referees when you're mad?" I tease, hands motioning. The sound of the match fading in the background of our conversation. The occasional yelling heard through the walls.

He scoffs, leaning forward a bit as I stare into his dark eyes. "Are you referring to me defending my club?" He whispers his voice deeper, and I hold back a squeal in the back of my throat. This man was definitely trying to fuck with me, and it was working a little too much.

"If that's what you call it- yeah." I mumble, a chuckle escaping my lips. I cut him off before he can respond. "Why did you get so mad last week though? I've seen captains just take the red card and leave. Were you just frustrated since you were 1-0 behind?" I say, it had been the question I had been wanting to ask the entire week.

He lifts his hand to rub his face, as he ponders over my question. "I don't know. Guess I didn't think it was worth a red."

I sigh, walking closer to him and leaning my hip on the bed. "Well now it's cost you two games and a hefty fine."

"Do you still just lose your temper after like ten years of professionally playing? It's not something you get used to?" I ask, curious.

Throughout my years as a physiotherapist, although, it might not be seen as many years. I had always loved getting to know every player I worked with, the conversations and topics brought up during them contributed to the way I'd started to see my own life. Hearing the perspectives of other humans of all walks of life, the only thing common being the industry they worked in, taught me to always look at every dilemma in multiple ways. This was very important to me. Since I, a twenty-five-year old am young, still trying to find my way and position in society.

Despite that, I also very much loved speaking about less serious subjects, a simple conversation about something that happened during a game or something personal a player wanted to share was always welcome.

I am so fortunate to have healthy work environments so far, as a woman even in this day and age that still is something many of us dream of and strive to have. Granted, there would always be compromising situations I could find myself in. The world, sadly isn't a place of flowers and sunshine. It just had to be so that I would be able to speak up and defend myself when it became time to do so.

"Is that a diss or a serious question?" He asks, his brows raised, as his body is positioned defensively.

I mirror his pose, arms crossed on my chest as I stare up at him. "I'm being serious here, like what goes through your mind in those situations? Anger, fear or disappointment maybe?"

I watch him ponder for a moment, eyes tracing his facial features. Noticing the slight stumble on his upper lip.

"It's- difficult to describe. I mean as a captain of course, you're aware of the responsibility you carry. You're in this team, all bonded with passion and love for the game. Millions of supporters counting on you and cheering on you. Puts pressure on us, really. Especially during away games. I remember when I was way younger and it would be insanely overwhelming. You have this huge stadium, full of people, yelling and shouting the craziest things. I think it's part of the game now for me after so many years. Being a captain puts more responsibility on my shoulders. You want everything to go perfectly and win every game you play obviously. We can analyze and practice and substitute, but in the end it's football. It's sadly going to be unpredictable at times. So, getting that card whether it's me, or my teammate it's going to be hard to accept." He explains, hands motioning as he speaks.

I nod along, taking in all of his words. I hum as he stops talking.

"I get that I do. Guess it puts more pressure to do well. Sometimes players lose their cool and do deserve that card, right?" I say, trying lighten up the mood.

"You're right obviously, but sometimes things just happen in the heat of the moment." He says, a slight smile tugging on his lips.

Our conversation is cut off by the sound of loud cheers. Our heads snap to look at the long forgotten TV. After an attempt to score by Darwin, the ball bounces back against Aston Villa player Matty Cash and had resulted in an own goal.

"Oh wow 2-0 already, don't think they need you."

I tease, laughing at his expression.

He rolls his eyes at me offended. "That hurt you know." He says, hand placed on his chest.

"I'm joking obviously. I just think they're doing well. I'm not hating on you."

We focus back on the game, a comfortable silence in the room. He sits on the medical bed as I walk back to my chair, left leg propped up to lean my head on it.

The first half passes with no further change in scores and we move in the second half with no injuries. A goal from Mo sets the team up with a nice 3-0.

Sadly, Trent gets subbed off due to an hamstring injury as the team brings him into the medical room.

"You played really well at least, Captain. Definitely got that player of the match award in the pocket." I say trying to lighten the mood, as I examine his injury, holding up an ice pack to reduce swelling. I glance back at Virgil as he raises his brow at my words and I hold back a chuckle.

"It doesn't feel like it's a major injury." Trent says.

"I'm sure it isn't that serious, but you'll need some further scans. I'm not confident about you being able to play in the national team, but I won't say anything until your scans are back." I state, stepping away and filling in a form.

He sighs, frustration plastered on his face. Virgil puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry man." He says a comforting smile on his face and I can't help but admire their bond. I was always envious of the bond athletes, primarily footballer had with their teammates. It played a huge factor in winning and executing game plans perfectly. Teamwork definitely made the dream work, no doubt.

The match ends with a 3-0 for Liverpool. The players walking through the tunnel with tired but happy smiles on their faces. I high five some, complimenting their hard work.

I return to the medical room, grabbing my bag and walking out to the stadium garage. I hear my name being called as I step outside. I look around and catch Virgil standing next to his car. I raise my eyebrows, deciding to walk up to him.

"Are you leaving?" He asks, leaning against his car in a rather smooth way.

"Yeah, I was just about to step into the team bus. Why?" I say, hands full with my heavy bag.

"You know since I drove here myself- I can drop you off." He says. I stare at him for a second then nod. I mean, he's driven me home before. So what would be the problem?

He reaches out to my hands, grabbing the heavy bag and placing it in the backseat as I observe him. He walks back, opening the passengers seat door for me. Damn, he's just going to keep opening doors for me like that?

I mumble a quick 'thank you', stepping into his car and fastening my seat belt. Just like the first time he drove me home, after that creepy guy harassed me. I crouch slightly as we drive away from the stadium, hoping no one will recognize Virgil, or at least not see me with him.

"When are you guys leaving to go back home for the national matches?" I ask, breaking the silence in the car. He glances at me before refocusing his full attention to the road.

"Tonight." He says, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

I turn my body towards him in shock, eyes widened.

"Really? Tonight already? That's fast." I blurt.

"I know, but the Greece game is on Thursday. That's in four days already." A twinge of sadness in his voice as he taps the steering wheel in a self-soothing way.

"Oh- so what do you think. You ready to beat the other countries and serve your country, Captain?" I ask, poking fun at him.

He scoffs, before nodding his head repeatedly. He raises his hand to salute me playfully. "Of course, I'm always ready."

I chuckle at him, leaning back in my seat, propping my head up the headrest.

"Are you tired?" He asks, glancing at me.

I snuggle further in the seat, a yawn leaving my lips. "Yeah, woke up really early." I say.

"Why? I think you had to be at the training center at twelve. Are you not sleeping well?" He frowns.

I sigh, wrapping my arms around me for warmth.

"Just can't sleep these days really. Sleeping was okay for a while, then it got worse." I confess a little embarrassed, looking out the widow to see the familiar buildings of my neighborhood.

He doesn't respond, as he keeps on driving to my home. We park a little further away from my apartment building, mostly hidden from pedestrians. He suddenly turns to me, and I watch him from the corner of my eyes.

"Hey, look at me." He says, his tone stern but warm. I turn my body towards him, dropping my hands to my lap and waiting for him to speak.

He leans forward, grabbing my hand off my lap and holding onto to it tightly.

"How am I supposed to leave you for a week and a half when you're not sleeping well." He mutters, looking into my eyes with a gentle look.

My body warms up instantly, the heat flushing to my cheeks. My brain short-circuiting as I think of a reply, staring at my lap like a fool. He's worried about me?

I hear him click him tongue, his body leaning closer to mine. Reaching over to pull me into a warm embrace. His arms wrap around my back, a hand soothingly running up and down.

I sigh into the crook of his neck, worries and sleepless nights running through my mind.

He looked and sounded very calm and collected, almost like an immovable mountain. Whereas my emotions and thoughts went wild, comparable to an ocean with crashing waves, and I was at the mercy of those waves.

He pulls back, face getting closer to mine, hand reaching to fix a bit of my hair.

"Are you okay?"

"Why are you asking me?" I say, my brows furrowed.

"You've definitely look more tired since- that happened. Even when I ask if you're okay, you brush it off and put a smile on."

I look away, embarrassed someone had caught on to the facade had put up.

He lifts a hand, grabbing my chin gently to face him. "Don't lie to me y/n." He says, gazing into my eyes. His thumb rubbing circles on the back of my hand. My eyes water, becoming glossy as the tears brim the edges of my eyes. I try blinking them away, sighing to myself as some of them drop down my cheeks. His thumb wiping them away with a soft sigh.

"You can cry, let it out." He urges softly. I shake my head, softly shuddering. "I can't." I say.

"Why? You're safe with me."

"That's just what I've done in the past- and now I can't let that wall I've built crumble into pieces." I confess, my voice hoarse.

He sighs frustrated, hand holding onto mine tightly. "I know I can't force you- to do anything. You're a very stubborn woman." He says, a small smile on his face to change the mood.

I chuckle at him. I definitely was a very stubborn person. When my parents were around I remember being so mad that they were always gone. They were times I didn't speak to them out of stubbornness, always fighting with them in the end.

"I should go-" I say, looking around to see if anyone recognized him. His eyes widen in realization, as he nods pulling his cap on as he walks out to give me my bag.

"I'll see you. Take care, don't get injured and win those games!" I demand, holding onto his arm and shaking him.

He chuckles, head down to hide his face from the passing people. "I will work hard as possible. Promise me you'll contact me throughout the week?" I hum in agreement.

"I will, I promise." I say, and he pulls me into a hug. "Safe flight." I mumble, waving as I walk away to my apartment building. "You don't want me to carry your bag up?" He says. I shake my head, telling him to leave to get on his flight. He doesn't reply, staring as I turn back to wave one more time and open the apartment building door.

It had been about a week since Virgil had left. I had become occupied at work with Trent and Ibou's injuries. Both of them making great progress in healing their injuries. I hear my phone ping, a message popping up as I stir the honey into my tea and take a sip. The warm liquid soothing my throat.

I open it and am greeted by a photo of Virgil. In his national team kit. They won their matches against both Greece and Ireland. I had been cheering on them on Thursday and tonight, having snacks with Sofia or by myself like now as I snuggled on the sofa.

I smile to myself as I observe the photo. He always looked good in his LFC kit, no doubt about that, but seeing a man in his national team kit made him ten times hotter immediately. Let's not forget the captain armband, that had me kicking my feet and flushing. You might think military men are hot when serving their country, but have you seen an athlete serving their country in a pretty kit and passion flowing through their veins? It was to melt for.

I reply to his message with compliments, but still nagging at him for managing to get a yellow in the added time. He doesn't reply immediately, probably busy with press and the other players.

He suddenly sends me a message to turn the TV on, for his post-match interview.

I chuckle to myself as I see his face on my screen, a giddy feeling taking over my body. This man made me feel like a damn teenager and a military wife at the same time. The interview ends and I take a short video of me and the screen, sending it back to him as proof that I had seen him.

He doesn't reply fast after seeing it, sending a red heart with a 'pretty' next to it later on.

I throw my phone onto my sofa, kicking my feet and burying my face into the cushions in my flustered state.

I decide not to respond to it, to not embarrass myself and opt to ask him when he'll return to Liverpool.

'In three days.' He replies and I can't help but feel a little disappointed. I had missed his presence immensely, but would I admit that to him? No way.

I send him a sad sticker, before telling him to sleep and rest well. A threatening 'good night and you better sleep well' sent by him shortly after. I laugh to myself, shifting on the couch after reading it, deciding to call it a night and going to bed.

#virgil van dijk fanfiction #virgilvandijk #virgilvandijk imagines #virgil van dijk #van dijk #liverpool fc #football #football fanfic #football imagines #liverpoolimagines #liverpool fanfic #virgil van dijk x reader #virgil x reader #footballer x reader #liverpoolfc

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