#next poster has only two faces THANK GOD

[suburbanbonfire]

AND THE DEEP COMES RUSHING IN

technically a poster for the Kraken/Canucks game happening tomorrow, but I liked it better generic.

(prints)

Closeups under the cut!

[wickwoods]

𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬-

Ex-husband!Dad!Eddie Munson x AFAB!Ex-wife!Mom!Reader-

I found the divider on Pinterest! Creds to original poster <3

Word Count: 4.5K

Summary: A couple of months after your divorce with Eddie, you meet his new girlfriend at a Harrington pool party. Too bad she’s a total bitch, though.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Dom!Eddie, Sub!Reader, Unprotected sex, Eddie doesn’t exactly cheat, Reader and Eddie have two kids together, No use of Y/n, Eddie cums inside reader, Reader has boobs and pussy, PiV, Oral sex (fem receiving), A snarky comment about how reader “should” be eating…These are the main warnings but please feel free to let me know of any I missed, happy reading! <3

You heard her voice before you saw her.

“Eddie! Grab my purse from the backseat!” You turned over to the wooden gate when it slid open, locking your eyes on her. Roxy, Eddie’s new girlfriend.

‘She’s pretty.’ You decide in your head. ‘Too bad she’s a total bitch.’ There were multiple occasions where your friends had complained about her behavior. The most recent being Nancy complaining about Roxy trying to give her parenting advice when she didn’t have kids herself.

You watched as she made her way to the large white table where you sat at and pull up a chair to sit on. Eddie strolled in a few moments after her, taking a seat next to her and setting her purse down on the table.

Roxy didn’t greet you, and you didn’t bother to speak to her either. If only she knew how to keep her mouth shut. “Do you know how many carbs are in that? Salads are way better for a body like yours girl, trust me.”

Your eyes widened with surprise at the girl's nerves. You shifted your gaze to Eddie’s bright red face. “She serious?” You ask. You turn back over to Roxy, her face stone cold serious. Your eyes didn’t falter as you responded in a cold tone, “I gave birth to two children. My body was a home for them. I am comfortable in my body, sorry you’re not comfortable in yours.”

Your hands made a loud smacking noise as you slammed them on the table, making Eddie and Roxy jump back in surprise. “Fucking bitch.” You muttered as you pushed yourself up from your seat, turning on your feet to walk to the back screen door where Wayne, Steve, and Nancy were standing.

You couldn’t believe it. Who the fuck does she think she is? She had no right to comment on your body. God knows you went through enough of that in High school.

“You alright, sugar?” Wayne’s raspy voice rang through your ears as he flipped a burger patty on the grill. “Yeah I'm just gonna head inside for a couple of minutes, Nance, can you watch the little gremlins for a bit?” She smiled and nodded her head, “Of course.”

You gave her a quiet thanks and made your way inside. Unbeknownst to you, a certain metal head was trailing right behind you. He made himself known with a loud clear of his throat. You tried to ignore him and pretended to be hyperfocused on the bowl of macaroni and cheese resting on the counter.

“Hey,” Eddie walked over to where you stood and reached for your forearms, “I’m so sorry about that. I’ll tell her to watch her words around you-“ You shook your head from left to right. “No, Eddie. Keep her away from me or we will have a problem. Keep her away from my kids too.”

Your eyebrow twitched as it usually did when you got mad and it made Eddie smile. “Alright, sweetheart. Let's go out there and enjoy the day. I still gotta say hi to the little troublemakers.” He smiled at the thought of the children running outside. They were the perfect blend of you two. Everyone could see it.

You both made your way outside, being greeted by more family spread around the Harrington backyard. You greeted anyone who was close enough to hear you and walked over to where Nancy stood talking with Robin. You kept your gaze on Eddie and watched as he ran around with the kids.

You could swear you had heart eyes at that moment. If there was one thing you would never disagree on it was that Eddie was a great dad. The best you’ve ever seen. He cared about his children and it was clear just how much he did. He took the role very seriously.

“Are you getting in the pool? I think I am.” You heard Robin’s voice snap you out of your thoughts. “Maybe later.” You replied.

A little after the sun began to set, you decided to finally step into the large pool. The surface was gleaming with the sun's glare of sunshine and it looked beautiful. Eddie was already in the water, holding baby June in his arms. The ten month old squealed as her father lightly dipped her in and out the water.

You looked to the edge of the pool, seeing your five year old Ronnie swimming with his bright yellow arm pool floaties clung onto his little arms. “Momma! Look at me! I won Auntie birdie!” Aunt birdie- being Robin- was pouting playfully at the corner of the pool. You summed up from their faces that they had a small swimming race and that Robin had let Ronni win.

“That’s amazing baby!” The enthusiastic tone you had on didn’t let him know that you knew Robin had let him win. He basked in his glory a bit more then moved on to play a new game. Eddie looked up to where you were standing and asked, “You coming in?” You nodded, reaching for your t-shirt. You lifted your shirt from your torso then moved on to the jean shorts you were wearing.

You felt his blazing gaze on your body as you revealed the dark red bikini you had on. It was one of his favorites back when you guys were still together and you knew it. It was exactly why you never bothered to buy a new one.

His eyes tore away from you when June splashed her tiny hands all around him. “You little menace!” Her giggles rang throughout the backyard as Eddie tickled her belly. You stepped in and swam over to them, holding your hands out and calling June's name.

The baby girl looked at you and gave you a big gummy smile. She was such a happy baby. “Are you ruining daddy’s hair?” You cooed when she grabbed a fistful of Eddie’s hair, yanking it lightly into the water. “You encourage this sick behavior? You are a sick woman, sweetheart.” You giggled.

Robin swam over, Ronnie trailing right behind her. She grabbed June from Eddie’s grasp and said, “I’ll take the little munchkins to get some food. You guys enjoy the pool.” You knew what she was doing. The tiny smile on her face as she looked at you said it all. You didn’t try to stop her. Neither did Eddie.

“Alright. Bye Robs.” Eddie said. He stared at you awkwardly for a minute before speaking, “So..how have you been?” You quirked an eyebrow before responding, “I’ve been good…just dealing with the kids. June entered her walking stage so that’s been…something. She just wants to walk into anything that screams ‘danger’.”

Eddie chuckled awkwardly, avoiding your eyes as he did so. You couldn’t stand the awkward act. It made you feel like you guys were strangers all over again. “How about you? How’s life treating you?” You asked him. “Well, I can’t complain. Things are okay for the most part. Wayne was finally promoted to the big manager position so that’s a great thing.”

Your eyes widened in excitement. You knew that one of Wayne’s biggest goals from working at the plant was to become one of the few managers there. “That’s amazing! I’m so proud of him.”

Eddie smiled at your display of affection for his uncle. He couldn’t help but compare the way you and Roxy responded to the news. Roxy had only hummed and smiled when his old man gave them the news. She didn’t bother trying to hide the fact she wasn’t listening to a single word he was saying. He stared at you with a longing gleam in his eyes.

He seemed like he was about to say something but was interrupted by the voice of none other than Steve Harrington. “You guys mind if we join? No? Okay, great.” Not waiting for a response, Steve ran in, jumping and causing a big splash. You squealed and turned away in surprise.

Expecting it to happen, Eddie only smiled and watched as Steve shook his hair out like a dog after a shower. Nancy followed in suit, causing another big splash. This time, Eddie turned away and swam over closer to you.

You both turned back when you heard Steve speak again. “You guys wanna play….” He paused for a dramatic effect. “Chicken fight?” Eddie responded almost immediately, “Game on, Harringtons.” He looked at you and motioned for you to get on his shoulders. You obliged, hopping on with precise movements so you wouldn’t hurt him.

This wasn’t your first rodeo of the game with the Harringtons across you. The most recent time you guys played was back in ‘86, right after graduation when you guys took a trip out of Hawkins.

The game began, you and Nancy squirming on the guys’ shoulders as you fought to push the other into the water. The guys were cheering on, and even Dustin and a little Harrington joined in. You fell in, and Nancy was whooping with pride along with Steve. Eddie turned to you and chuckled when you came up from underwater, hair stuck to your face. “It’s alright sweetheart, we’ll get them next time.”

The night dragged on, and at around 7:50, Roxy’s voice was heard once again. At some point you had heard her arguing with Eddie on how she didn’t wanna go into the pool because her makeup would be ruined.

“Eddie! I want to go home! I’m tired.” She whined. He heaved out a sigh and began to climb his way up the three steps at the edge of the pool. You decided to get out at that moment too. “I’ll be back, I’m just gonna drop her off and come back for another burger. Wait for me?” One look of his dark brown eyes, and you felt like you were under a spell.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll be here.” You smiled as he tossed his keys in the air once before catching them and walking over to Roxy.

When he came back, you were already sitting down at the white table and dressed back into the outfit you came in. You held June in your lap as she babbled on to herself.

Ronnie was in the seat next to you with another small burger on the styrofoam plate in front of him. It had gone cold a couple minutes earlier when he began to listen to his uncle Dustin intently. Dustin was rambling on about a new Marvel comic his girlfriend Suzie had gotten him for his birthday.

“Hey, I’m back. I’m gonna get a burger really quick.” He walked over to the grill and served himself before coming back and taking a seat on the other empty seat next to you. Wayne was sitting in front of you, you had been talking to the old man about his new position at the plant and asking him questions about the perks.

“Well I'm very happy for you, Wayne. You deserve this more than anyone I know.” He gave a big smile, looking almost shy at the praise. “Thank you darlin’…Well I oughta be headin’ home. Got a big day tomorrow. I’ll see you guys soon.”

He gave his goodbyes to everyone, hanging a little longer to give plenty of hugs and kisses to his grandkids before finally heading home.

After all the food was done and everyone was worn out from all the socializing, each person bid their goodbyes to the Harringtons and made their way to their respective cars. You and Eddie were the last ones left parked on the edge of the Harringtons sidewalk.

You were about to open the back door to strap the kids in when you heard Ronnie’s little voice behind you. “Daddy, can you come to our house and tuck me and Junie in?” The little boy had your eyes and he knew the effect it had on Eddie. He made his best puppy eyes and stared directly into Eddie’s.

Eddie both loved and hated when he did. Loved because it was just about the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Hated because well…he couldn’t say no to any requests his five year old would make. “I don’t know buddy, ask your momma.” He looked up at you with a smile as the five year old turned to you with the same eyes he used on his father.

You hummed for a couple of seconds and responded in a teasing tone, “Hmm I don’t know Ron, maybe i’ll only let him come over if you…give me a bunch of hugs and kisses.” Your voice went a bit high pitched at the end of your sentence as you dropped down to your knees and wrapped him up in your arms, landing small kisses on his little cheek.

He giggled as you did so and you released him then turned to Eddie. “You follow us in your van?” He responded, “Yeah.”, pulling out his keys and making his way over to the old, beat up van.

“I’ll see you guys there!” He hopped in and started the engine. You quickly strapped June in her car seat and Ronnie in his. He kicked his little legs in happiness and it brought a smile to your face. You could feel the love he had for his dad radiating off him. You began to make your way home, Eddie’s van following right behind your red convertible.

You arrived a few feet ahead of Eddie's van. He parked right behind your convertible in the driveway, hopping out and walking up to the back door of your car where the kids were. He unbuckled them from their seats, sticking his tongue out in an attempt to make them laugh. It worked, of course.

Once you all were inside, you began your usual night routine, this time with Eddie’s help. It wasn’t often he came over at nights to tuck June and Ronnnie in. He preferred to be over at the house during daytime and to tuck them into bed when they were at his own apartment.

For a moment, it all felt normal again. Like a peace that was never disturbed by the divorce papers you both had willingly signed. After bath time, two bedtime stories, and a load of cuddles and kisses, Ronnie and June were settled in and deep in their sleep.

Eddie flipped the light switch next to the door off and with practiced stealth, shut the door without making a sound. Triumphantly, he turned to you with a smile and took a playful bow.

You giggled, turning on your heel to walk back to the kitchen. You were about to offer him a glass of water, but he beat you to it, surprising you with some news.

“I broke up with her…” His eyes held an expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It was hard to tell what he was thinking about at the moment. Of course you were happy he wouldn’t have to deal with her nasty attitudes anymore, but it didn’t mean you still didn’t feel bad.

“Oh, Eddie. I’m sorry.” He shrugged his shoulders casually. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Just glad I won’t have to put up with her anymore. What she said to you was…out of pocket.”

You smiled. Eddie had walkways been so protective of the people he cared about. God forbid June or Ronnie ever got hurt by another person, Eddie would be on their case for the rest of his life. You pondered in your head for a while before gathering the courage to ask, “Do you wanna stay for a while? Watch a movie?” He nodded.

“Yeah, of course.” You both made yourselves comfortable on opposite ends of the couch, you on the left, and him on the right. You went with your favorite movie genre, Horror.

Midway through the movie, you saw Eddie jump back when the red haired murderous clown in the movie got a little too close to the camera through your peripheral vision. You giggled to yourself and turned to look at him.

“You alright there?” you teased. He squinted his eyes in a playful glare. “Glad you find my fear hilarious, sweetheart.” Ever the drama king. You giggled even harder and it brought a smile to his own face. He slowly moved over to where you were sitting, putting both his hands on each side of your torso.

Your eyes widen in fear. You let out a little “no” but his mind was already made up. Squeals escaped your lips continuously as he began to tickle your sides.

”No! No, stop! I’m sorry!” You managed to get the words out in between your giggles. “You’re sorry?” He paused for a few seconds before picking up right where he left off. “G’nna have to do a lot better than that, sweetheart.” He smiled when your giggles got a little louder.

You stopped moving and giggling completely when you felt something prodding your thigh. “What’s?- Eddie…are you?…” He looked mortified. In sync, you both look down to see that Eddie was hard. His first instinct was to push himself off you.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” He put his head in his hands, looking almost ashamed of his hormones. “Eddie..” You tore his hands from his face, forcing him to look at you. “It’s fine. Stop freaking out. We have two kids together.” You attempted to make him feel better but you could still see the embarrassment behind his brown eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You pressed your forehead against his, and pressed a light kiss on his nose. “It’s okay…relax.” He turned his head upwards slightly, about to press a kiss to your lips before pausing midway. “Can I kiss you?” You nodded. “Please do.”

He didn’t hold back, his lips finding place in between yours. His lips sped up like he had been craving it since the last time you guys ever kissed. You didn’t mind, this is what you had been craving for a while. He pulled away, leaning down enough to attach his lips to your neck. Pretty noises escaped your lips when he nibbled on a certain spot.

“Ed-Eddie, let’s go to the room.” You had to pull his head up from his neck when he didn’t respond. His eyes were blown with desire, the brown irises now replaced with wide black pupils. “Yeah-shit, yeah.” You were about to stand from your place when you were swept off the couch in one fell swoop.

A small gasp escaped your lips and you looked at Eddie in surprise. He didn’t speak, only using one hand to shut off the TV. He spun around and made his way into your guys’ old shared bedroom. You trailed kisses down his neck in the meantime and even left a couple of marks on the right side of his neck. God, you just realized how bad you’ve been missing him.

How bad you needed him.

When you guys made it into the room, he laid you down carefully on the bed. “Beautiful girl.” He leaned in again, connecting his lips with yours. His tongue swiped against your lower lip, letting a bit of drool drip down your chin. You granted him entrance, his tongue expertly finding yours and tangling them together in a heated dance that made your thighs clench as best as they could with his leg in between them.

Feeling the tug of your hand on his shirt, he pulled back just long enough to take the black t-shirt off. You caught a glimpse of some tattoos that were etched into his skin permanently, including the one he had gotten for you two years ago.

It was nothing crazy to the point where people could immediately understand he had gotten it for you, just a small piece that only you two understood held a deeper meaning than he let on. Next to come off was your outfit.

Eddie’s hands were cold as they undid the neatly tied bow of your bikini. He pressed his lips between your swell breasts, leaving a path of purple bruises down your stomach. Your back arched into the air in response to his lips.

He pulled himself up just enough to attach his lips to your right nipple. You responded with a whine, him sucking on the rock hard pebble in response.

“Eddie, I need you, please.” Your eyebrows were furrowed in pleasure, a pit of pleasure burning in your stomach. If you didn’t have him soon, you were going to explode. Your hands reached down, undoing his belt buckle with eagerness.

One hand stroked against his dick in the process and it made him grunt in pleasure against your nipple. You pulled his bowers down along with his boxers. He stood up for a minute to shake off the garments so they landed on the floor away from the bed.

When his dick was exposed to your eyes, you reached down between your bodies, tugging on it and giving a couple of strokes to his tip with your thumb. “Fuck sweetheart, you’re gonna make me cum before I can even get in that pretty pussy.” He chuckled.

“Then hurry it up.” You sassed. He reached over to the nightstand next to your bed, moving his hand around inside the small drawer in search of a condom. When he realized there was none, his jealousy spiked up immediately. “Where’s the last condom we had?”

You stared at him sheepishly before responding in a meek voice, “I might’ve had someone over once last month…You can’t blame me! I was really horny.” He stared at you with squinted eyes. “You had a girlfriend anyways!” You tried again, but his face twitched in thought. “You know…I never slept with her.”

You felt genuine surprise. Eddie had always been a horny individual, it was no wonder you guys had two kids. You figured they must have shared a bed more than once while they were dating so you didn’t feel as guilty when you slept with the guy you had over.

“How was I supposed to know?” You muttered. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Y’know why?…because I'm going to make you forget that man. Gonna fuck you so good you’ll only remember my name after.”

His words made you whimper and your thighs got embarrassingly wet with your slick through your jean shorts. He made quick work of taking your shorts and underwear off with the help of your hips lifting off the bed.

He let out a groan when he made contact with your glistening pussy. “I missed her. So pretty.” Using both his calloused hands, he spread your legs open by your thighs before slipping a finger in between your shining folds to toy with your clit.

You let out a moan and grabbed the sheets in a tight grip, your knuckles turning white with the force. “Fuck, I love watching you fall apart for me.” His finger slipped in with his words, thrusting at a sensual speed. Your hips thrust forward. You fucked yourself on his finger for a while before he halted your movements by pressing his other hand on your lower belly.

A second finger slipped in, making you gasp/moan in surprise. The sounds that were coming out of you were unrecognizable and embarrassingly loud, but you couldn’t help yourself- he was making you feel so fucking good.

He leaned in to press a kiss against your folds, then gave an experimental lick to your clit. “Eddie, please. Need your mouth baby.” Never being one to decline the offer, he began to eat you like a starved man.

Wet noises of his tongue flicking up and down filled the room. You managed to keep your voice low enough to the point where nobody but Eddie would be able to hear you. Your shaking legs were a dead giveaway to just how much you were enjoying this anyway.

“Cum on my tongue sweet girl. Wanna taste your cum. Show me how good I make you feel.” You bit your bottom lip harshly to contain the whine that so desperately wanted to get out. “M’close Eddie. So close. Mmm…love your mouth.” You felt his smile against your cunt and looked down to meet his eyes.

One final suck on your clit and you were seeing stars, cumming so hard, your legs were shaking. “Ahh fuck, Eddie.” His tongue flicked up and down for a couple seconds before he came up from between your legs, chin glistening with a mix of your arousal and cum. “Tastes so sweet. Just how I remember.” He winked.

“You ready for me to fuck you, sweet girl?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. “So ready for you Ed’s.” He reached down and took a hold of his cock, hissing at the contact of his cold hand. You can feel the tip of his cock rubbing through your folds, making you moan, desperate for him to give you the delicious stretch of his dick.

“Shh, I know sweetheart. Just needa be fucked so good don’t ya?” You nodded, your mouth dropping open when he finally thrust his tip in. Out of everyone you’ve ever been with, Eddie was the only man who could ever give you the satisfying feeling of being stretched with only his tip.

His hands found a place on each side of your head as he thrust his hips forward, making inch by inch enter you slowly. “Fuck me, Eddie. Please baby, I need it so bad.”

He couldn’t hold back anymore, pounding his hips against your pelvis over and over at a steady but fast pace. “Fuck baby. So tight. Mmm squeezing my cock so fucking good.” You mewl loudly in response.

“M’yours Eddie. Pussy made only for you.” The sounds of his full balls smacking against your ass filled the room. It only fueled Eddie’s primal urge to fill you up with every last drop of his cum. A string of little “ah ah ah’s” left your mouth when his thrusts didn’t relent. His tip managed to nudge against the spongy spot that made you see stars.

“Right there Eddie. Don’t stop, please.” He chuckled darkly. “Wasn’t plannin’ on it sweetheart. Never wanna stop fucking this pretty pussy. All mine.” His lips met your harshly, spit mixing and teeth clashing against each other. There was no holding back your moans anymore.

You moaned loudly into his mouth when you felt the band in your stomach snap. Your hands trailed behind his back, leaving dark red scratches along his pale skin. You came with a loud moan, your legs shaking once again.

He came a second after you did when he felt the squeeze of your cunt against his dick. “Fuck, sweetheart. G’nna fill you up so full of my cum, give you a third baby. Wanna see you all pretty and pregnant with my child again.”

When you both came down your highs, he pulled out slowly, hissing at the cold breeze when he left your warm hole. He reached over the edge of the bed and grabbed his abandoned shirt, using it to wipe up the remaining drops of his spend on your pussy. When he finished, he dropped down next to you, pulling you close to him and wrapping his arms around your neck.

“G’night sweets.” You smiled against his chest. “Goodnight Eddie.”

Note: Pleas enjoy this horny monstrosity while I work on November Rain part two <3

[irisintheafterglow]

the long-awaited part 2 to this drabble

"can i get an extra large of the black shirt?"

"of course, give me one moment. i'll be right with you," you reply with robotic politeness over your shoulder as you shove a cardboard box of collectible hats behind the tablecloth. foot traffic has significantly slowed, allowing you to take care of some inventory tasks that were hard to complete when you were bombarded with requests for the limited-edition holographic poster boasting the olympics' host city. you stand from your crouching position, grab an extra-large from the crumpled pile, and finally turn to face your customer.

the customer wearing a surgical mask with two black moles above his eyebrow. you suspect his jacket is the same one that stopped everyone in their tracks earlier in the day, when you obliviously asked him to walk you past a creep.

men's volleyball team - sakusa kiyoomi.

"well?" sakusa asks after a long moment of awkward silence, the slightest hint of amusement in his voice at your shock. "are you gonna hand me the shirt or do i need to grab it myself?"

"you...you!" your senses come slamming back into you like a freight train and you're suddenly overcome with a mix of embarrassment and indignance. "why didn't you tell me who you were?"

"you never asked," he says with a shrug and a teasing glint in his eyes. the shirt stays tight in your grasp, if only because the feel of the fabric is the one thing reassuring you that this interaction was truly happening. "plus, you seemed a little preoccupied with other things." you nod dumbly in lieu of answering and fish a paper bag from below the table.

"my boss just about had a heart attack over your damn back," you inform him while you drop the shirt into the bag. you don't bother charging him for it, seeing as he's one of the athletes and all, and you'd prefer for him to forget you exist as quickly as possible.

"i don't know what the big deal is. it's just a jacket."

"'just a jacket,' sure," you scoff, "and you're just some guy throwing a ball around." the small printer next to the register makes a whirring noise as it attempts to dispense a receipt, only for it to jam and print incomprehensible blots of ink. you curse your shitty luck under your breath.

"everything okay?"

"apparently my brain isn't the only thing that's broken right now," you mutter, and you're surprised when he breathes a quiet laugh. "don't bask in my suffering."

"i'll bask in whatever i find funny, thanks," he shoots back and you glare in spite of your furiously warm face. "what happened?"

"the printer broke. it's been on its last legs all day," you frown. you're too busy trying to remember how to replace the paper roll to notice how he glances around before deciding to remove his mask and tuck it into his pocket. when you look up next, your face goes from warm to burning. who knew your one-time bodyguard was also the prettiest man you'd ever laid eyes upon? "you know what? you can just take the bag, i wasn't going to charge you anyway."

"why would i do that? you're not doing your job very well if you just let me steal a shirt." oh, so he thinks he's funny. from what you'd watched in brief clips of his interviews, sakusa seemed too stoic to have any ounce of humor in his body; yet, here you were, getting teased by a god-tier athlete about breaking the register at your summer job.

"it's not stealing, it's...gifting," you correct slowly. "i made you a promise, remember? you made sure i didn't get kidnapped in broad daylight, and i give you a shirt in return. simple."

"but i need a receipt," he retorts dryly.

"why? just take the bag, please," you say a little forcefully, expecting him to take the hint and leave. your first mistake, however, was challenging an olympic volleyball player to a competition of wits and patience.

"no, i don't think i will," he replies, pushing the bag back across the table to you. "a receipt, one more thing, and i'll go."

"well, you're gonna be here for a little bit because i don't know how i'm supposed to get you a receipt when the printer is broken," you surrender with no idea what he was trying to do. "i won't apologize, though, because you could just take the bag and go."

"allowing me to steal and refusing to apologize. gold star customer service." his sarcasm pulls a sudden, ugly bark of laughter that seems to increase the temperature of your face even more. "hmm. cute."

"what?"

"nothing. no receipt, then?"

"like i said, unless you wanna wait until my manager comes down from the balcony level merch stand and fixes the printer, you can just take the shirt and go. i appreciate you walking me earlier, really, so it's no hassle for me if one measly shirt goes missing."

sakusa opens his mouth like he's about to say something, but suddenly snaps his head to the side in the direction of a bright camera flash. one flash turns to four, and he hastily pulls his mask back over his face, cursing under his breath. you watch, perplexed, as his cocky bravado retreats just in time for a half-dozen journalists to cut around the nearest security guard and surround him. in a blink, microphones and cameras are forced into his face and questions in six different languages are hurriedly spewed at him. if you weren't already reaching across to put some distance between him and the tabloid writers, you wouldn't hear him mutter---

please get them away.

"alright, we're done here," you announce to no one in particular. your voice is more commanding than you expected it to be, enough to make the reporters pause and give you an opening to grab the crook of sakusa's elbow, beelining for the staff-only door. the guard posted there is quick to open the door for you and shut it, effectively cutting off the growing horde of journalists. "are you okay?" you ask as you continue to lead him toward what you remember as the nearest quiet break room. you don't have time to think about the flex of his arm under your hand or how he follows you with absolute trust.

"yeah," he answers curtly, his irritation obvious but seeming to diminish the longer you're holding his arm. you reach the empty linoleum-lined room and unlatch your fingers from him to shut the door, feeling a void-like sensation that you can't figure out. "sorry about that," he says to fill the tense silence after you're no longer shoulder-to-shoulder.

"don't worry about it. we're even now," you reassure him and that makes his shoulders relax a little bit. "you need water? a snack? day-old coffee that could probably burn through metal?"

"no, just some peace," he sighs, exasperatedly collapsing into the nearest uncomfortable chair.

"i see." you blink and suddenly feel like you're intruding on his space, fitting in like an elephant in a shoebox. "uh, i'll leave you here and make sure no one else comes--"

"i'd prefer if you stayed," he cuts in and you pause, your hand hovering above the door handle. "if you're able."

"are you sure?"

"only if you can," he says too quickly to be normal, avoiding your eyes. "you don't need to if you don't want to." you want to laugh at your situation, being stuck in an empty room with the hottest man you've ever laid eyes upon, and your nerves are more heightened than a deer in headlights. (you don't know that he's ridiculously embarrassed that the one time he talks to someone he's interested in, it's interrupted by cameras)

"i can stay, yeah," you manage and he's visibly relieved at your answer, at ease enough to again peel off his mask. his annoyance seemed to dissipate in the course of your short conversation, and an odd expression of contentment is its replacement. "you'll have to explain to my manager why i had to take off early, though."

"breaking the printer, refusing to apologize, and abandoning your shift. you cause a lot of problems, evidently," he teases when you settle into a metal chair beside him.

"only around you, evidently," you quip and are rewarded by the tiniest pull at the corner of his mouth. "i'm sorry i wasn't able to get you that shirt, though...and your precious receipt." he shrugs.

"don't really need either anymore."

"how so?"

"hunting down the shirt was just a way to talk to you again," he declares like he didn't even notice how his statement made your face heat once more. he notices, just like he noticed how you stuttered every time he started a conversation with you, how you smile and laugh like an idiot when he says something that catches you off guard, how your fingers felt electric at every point where you held his elbow. "and the receipt was to ask you to write your number, but i guess i can just ask now if you wanna grab dinner."

when you say yes, he hopes you can't tell just how much he already likes you.

[byproducts-of-my-imagination]

Everyone Hates Todo Except You

The best part about Todo is that you don’t have to put yandere in front of him because his normal behavior already screams delusional and obsessive.   You cannot convince me that he doesn’t sniff all your things as soon as you’re not looking.  He’s just so intense.  I love this man, need to catch up on jjk.

~1k words. Thank you to whoever requested this and I hope you enjoy!

At the Kyoto branch, nobody really bothers sticking their nose in Todo’s business.  But when there’s an enormous mound of trash bags outside his room that just keeps getting bigger, concerning glances and eyebrow raises no longer cut it.  Normally his antics earn a side eye or two, but lately it’s been a little much, even for him.  At the breakfast table the next day, the girls decide to draw straws to see who has to tell him to move his shit.

“It’s not fair!  Why do I have to do it?”  Miwa groans, cursing her bad luck for the thousandth time.  

“It is fair, you just happened to draw the short straw now go deal with it!  We'll back you up.”  Mai grins, knowing full well she rigged it.

Kasumi Miwa would rather be doing literally anything else at this moment.  She timidly knocks on the door, and says, “Todo?  Could you move all this stuff please?  You’re starting to block the hallway.”

“Yeah I’ll get to it whenever I get the rest of this junk cleaned up.  Don’t worry there’s no food waste so there shouldn’t be any smell.”

“B-but Todo…. It's been almost a week now…”  The only response was the muted sound of shuffling.

Miwa looks back in defeat at her so-called “back up” as they peek from behind the corner.  Their best bet now is to get one of the boys to convince him.  And if they fail it’s straight to Utahime-sensei.  

Todo looks at his room, emptier than it’s ever been.  He knew this was the likeliest outcome.  Takada-chan was a beloved idol, and even if she liked him back (which he thought she might have at some point) there was no way she could be with him.  He knew, but it doesn't mean it hurt any less.  There were years of carefully collected merch, thousands of dollars being stuffed into trash bags to be thrown away.  But instead of the despair he carefully denied for years, he didn’t feel any loss throwing away all the autographed posters and pictures.  No, he had something much better now, someone who could actually be with him in this wretched, boring world.  He had his wonderful, gorgeous, beautiful, perfect in every way girlfriend.  And while you weren’t aware that you were destined to be with him yet, he would make sure you’d know soon.  As soon as he finished purging his space of Takada-chan (it wouldn’t do to have pictures of an old flame) he’d confess.  

A few days later he was tying up the last trash bag, ready to enact his plan.  He asked you to meet him under the largest tree in the forest on the edge of the training field.  Several hypothetical scenarios floated through his mind, and he focused on the one where you’d enthusiastically said you loved him back and then he married you and had many children.  As he neared the confession site, Todo felt yet another arrow go through his heart as you came into view.  I’ll never get tired of seeing her.

“Todo, is everything okay?  What’s up?”  A shiver ran down Todo’s spine, goosebumps rising.  God, even your voice was perfect.

“I love you.  Promise me, y/n.  That we’ll spend the rest of our lives together.”  He got down on one knee like a proposal, looking up at you like a devout follower.

“Todo… I don’t know about the rest of our lives but why don’t we start with a date?  I like you too.”  While you were a bit taken aback by his forwardness, you brush it off as Todo being Todo.  You never disliked his honesty and unabashedness.

“My girlfriend!! I knew you felt the same!”  A single tear ran down Todo’s face.   

Back to the dorms, it wasn’t long before everyone found out and congregated at your room to badger you with questions.  

“Ugh that gorilla?  You guys are dating now?”  Nishimiya asked, firmly believing Todo to be an improper and inadequate boyfriend.  

“I thought he only had eyes for that idol Takado or whatever,” Miwa chimes.

“It’s Takada,” Mai corrects, not able to make eye contact with Nishimiya’s suspicious glance in her direction. 

“We’re dating now!  He just asked me out, and he’s really good to me.” you reply, thinking of how Todo insisted on carrying you back to the dorms, gently setting you down before running off saying he needed to ‘prepare’.  

“You can do way better than Todo, trust us.” The girls all nod in agreement.  However, Todo is outside your room balancing a tray of perfectly cooked lunch and a cold pitcher of water.  

“What are you guys talking about?”  he knows already, but wants to hear them say it to his face.  

“How y/n is too good for the likes of you.”  Mai minces no words for Todo.  With the uncomfortable tension rising, the Kyoto girls hastily make an exit.  

“My love, I made lunch for us.  I know I am not handsome, or come from wealth and a good sorcerer family like some of our classmates.  But I will be devoted.  I will never stray from you, I’d die if you asked me to.”  he says, as he sets the meal on your small desk, pulling out utensils and napkins.  His normal confidence seems to waver a bit, and it seems that not even Todo is immune to worrying about what other people think of him.  

“Todo, don’t worry about what they say and please don’t say you’ll die for me.  I like you a lot, I wouldn’t have accepted your confession if I didn’t.  I also think you’re quite handsome.”  

“You love me back?”  he whispers, kneeling at the edge of your bed, looking up at you.  While it’s a bit too early to tell, Todo’s hopeful, reverent look has you obliging him. 

“I do love you back.”  He embraces you, and you can hear his heartbeat in his bare chest.  It feels good to be loved so wholeheartedly, and you’ll give him all the love you have to repay him.  

[obvithe-bestsoph]

if he wanted to, he would.

masterlist requests word count: 7.2k (🫩)

a/n: guys we have a new winner of the longest fic on this blog. i love this one, it's so cutesy! i'm saying this is in celebration of 300 (319 because i may have missed 300 when it actually happened) followers and 5.1k notes in a month! genre: fluffy. warnings: none.

summary: you run into pedri again years after high school, where he used to bring you hot chocolates and offer to carry your bag, and slowly realize he’d been in love with you the whole time. now he’s back in town, showing up to the bookshop every day just to see you, and this time you finally see it too.

You’re half-asleep when he slides into the seat beside you.

First period hasn’t even started yet, the classroom’s still buzzing with sleepy murmurs and backpack zippers, and you’ve got your cheek pressed to the desk with a pen hanging loose between your fingers.

“Morning,” Pedri says, soft but already grinning.

You blink up at him, confused, then sit up quickly and try to hide the pencil smudge on your face. “Did we have homework?”

“No,” he says, laughing a little. “Not for today.”

You sigh and slump back into your chair. “Thank God.”

It’s always like this. Pedri gets there two minutes before the bell, finds your table, and plops down next to you like he’s been doing it forever. Most of the time, he doesn’t say much, just hums along to whatever’s playing through his earbuds or lets his head fall to the desk like he’s more tired than anyone else in the world.

But not today. Today, he’s fidgeting.

You don’t know what it is at first, the way his leg bounces, the way he’s playing with the strings of his hoodie, how he keeps glancing sideways at you like he’s working up to something. You chalk it up to a game day. Las Palmas has a match tonight, you’re pretty sure. You’ve never been, but it’s all anyone talks about when he’s in the starting eleven.

“Are you coming later?” he asks suddenly, like he’s read your mind.

“Huh?”

“The match,” he says, like duh. “We play Unión Viera tonight. It’s at home.”

“Oh,” you say. “I wasn’t planning to.”

His mouth twitches, like he’s trying to stay cool about it. “You should come. It might be good.”

“Are you saying that because you think you’re gonna score?”

He shrugs, still grinning. “Maybe.”

You roll your eyes and open your notebook. “If I come, I’m bringing a book.”

He leans in closer. “If you come and bring a book, I’ll be offended.”

You don’t reply, just shake your head while trying not to smile, and then class starts and he finally goes quiet beside you.

But that afternoon, he’s waiting for you by the lockers - again.

You’ve barely zipped up your bag before he reaches for it. Just takes the strap right off your shoulder and throws it over his like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I’ve got it,” he says.

“Pedri, I can carry my own stuff.”

“I know.”

You narrow your eyes. “Then why are you..?”

He grins. “Training.”

“Training for what? The backpack-carrying Olympics?”

“Strength,” he says seriously. “Endurance. Discipline.”

You snort. “You are so annoying.”

He shrugs like he doesn’t mind. “Wanna walk with me?”

You don’t say no. You never do.

It’s not just that Pedri plays for Las Palmas. Everyone knows that. It’s a big deal. People come up to him between classes, asking for updates or tickets or how his training is going. His face is starting to pop up in local papers and matchday posters at the little cafés near school. Teachers talk about him like he’s already gone. But with you, he’s just… Pedri. Still goofy. Still the guy who offered you his last pen in 2nd ESO and called you “the only person in the Canary Islands who reads during lunch.”

“You nervous for tonight?” you ask, just to make conversation.

He shrugs, adjusting your bag on his shoulder. “A little. But it’s not that deep.”

“It kind of is, though,” you point out. “Scouts come to those matches.”

He glances at you, face unreadable. “Yeah. I guess.”

You don’t know what to make of that. There’s something quiet in the way he says it, like he’s already thinking about leaving. About what happens when this year ends and he’s not just Pedri from class anymore.

You slow your pace without realizing. He matches it.

“Hey,” he says after a moment, kicking a rock along the sidewalk. “Do you want notes for bio? I copied all of it during free period.”

“Wait, you took notes?”

“Don’t sound so shocked.”

You laugh. “Yeah, sure. That’d help.”

He hands you his notebook when you reach your bus stop. You flip it open, eyebrows raised at the messy scribbles.

“Your handwriting is a crime.”

“You’re welcome.”

The bus rolls up before you can say anything else. Pedri hands you your bag like it weighs nothing, and you hesitate for half a second before stepping on.

“Good luck tonight,” you say over your shoulder.

He nods. “See you tomorrow?”

“Maybe.”

He grins like you just said yes.

That was the last normal week of school before summer hit - before finals, before graduation, before the real goodbye. You remember Pedri's last day more clearly than you want to admit: everyone signing each other’s shirts and hugging too tightly and promising to stay in touch. You didn’t cry, but you felt it coming the whole day, like a wave threatening to knock you sideways.

And Pedri?

He found you at the end of the day, shirt already covered in signatures, and held out a marker.

“Don’t leave me out.”

You signed his sleeve and watched him try to pretend he wasn’t nervous.

When you handed the pen back, he lingered. Looked like he wanted to say something. But he didn’t.

Instead, he smiled. “I’ll see you, yeah?”

And you just said, “Yeah.”

You didn't.

It's a quiet Monday. The kind where time stretches thin and quiet, sun streaming in through the shop’s front windows, dust drifting in the light. You’re behind the counter, half-focused on the stack of returns you’ve been meaning to sort since Monday. The bell above the door rings, and you glance up without thinking.

Then freeze.

Pedri González walks into the shop like he’s just another customer.

For a moment, your brain doesn’t catch up. He looks the same and not the same - older now, taller, more composed. His hair’s still got that soft curl, and his shoulders are broader beneath a plain white tee. But it’s his face that really stops you: familiar in a way that makes your stomach drop and twist all at once.

He doesn’t see you at first. His eyes scan the displays near the front, casual, unbothered. Just a guy looking for something to read. Until he turns, and his gaze lands on you.

And then?

That smile.

It pulls across his face like it’s automatic - soft and sure and immediate. Like he was hoping it’d be you.

You swallow hard. “...Hi.”

His grin grows. “Wow. Didn’t expect this.”

You blink. “Pedri?”

He gives a little wave, sheepish. “Hey.”

Your chest feels tight. It’s been years, actual years, and somehow your first thought is he hasn’t changed that much. He still carries himself like he’s trying not to be noticed - like he’s always halfway between invisible and unforgettable.

You clear your throat. “What are you doing here?”

He gestures vaguely to the shelves. “Looking for a book. It’s my mamá’s birthday next week.”

Of course. Rosy González. You remember her from the one time she picked him up early from school in her old car and waved through the window with the same exact smile Pedri’s wearing now.

You come out from behind the counter slowly, wiping your palms down the front of your jeans. “Okay. Anything in particular?”

“She likes emotional stuff,” he says. “Romance. The kind that makes you cry.”

You lead him toward the fiction section, still catching up with the fact that this is actually happening. He walks beside you quietly, hands in his pockets, gaze trailing the shelves like he’s reading every title and none of them at once.

“I didn’t know you were back in Tenerife,” you say, carefully casual.

“Just for the summer. A couple weeks off before pre-season starts again.”

You nod. “That makes sense.”

There’s a beat of silence. You grab a novel from the “Staff Picks” cart near the romance shelf, something dramatic, lyrical, heavy in that slow-burning way you think his mom would probably love.

“She’s not picky, right?” you ask, handing it to him.

He glances at the cover, then flips it over. “If it has feelings in it, she’s in.”

A small smile creeps onto your face. “Sounds familiar.”

That gets you a glance - quick but sharp. He tucks the book under one arm and leans a little closer, just enough for you to catch the faint smell of his cologne. Something soft. Clean.

“I used to read whatever you had with you,” he says.

You blink. “What?”

He smiles, eyes still on the books. “Back in school. You always had something in your bag. I’d look at the title and try to find it later.”

Your mouth goes a little dry.

“I didn’t know that,” you say quietly.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “You always seemed like you were halfway into another world.”

You don’t know what to say to that. You’re suddenly seventeen again, sitting on the front steps of the school building while Pedri offers you his hoodie because you forgot yours, watching the sky go pink while he reads the back of your book instead of saying goodbye.

You clear your throat and gesture toward the counter. “Let me ring that up for you.”

He follows you back. His footsteps are easy, steady. Comfortable in that quiet way that hasn’t changed since high school - like he’s always been more grounded than most people ever notice.

At the register, you take the book and scan it. He pulls out his wallet, taps his card, and before the receipt even prints, he says:

“Have you read it?”

You glance up. “Not yet. It’s on my list.”

He takes the receipt and slides the book into the paper bag you offer, then lingers just a little too long.

“Then when I finish it,” he says, “you’ll have to tell me what I missed.”

You try to hide the way your fingers curl around the edge of the counter. “Deal.”

He nods once, like it’s settled.

You expect him to turn and leave, but instead, he just stands there for a second. Looking at you like he’s trying to memorize the moment.

Then he says, “You know… I’m not in a rush. If you’ve got other recommendations.”

You raise a brow. “You want to buy more than one?”

He shrugs. “I trust your taste.”

And just like that, something shifts. Slight but definite.

You hand him another book, one from the stack you’ve been meaning to read for weeks. He doesn’t even check the price. Just adds it to the bag, says thank you, and walks out with a parting glance over his shoulder.

The door swings shut behind him, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

He remembered you.

And he came back.

He comes back the next day.

Same hoodie, different shirt. Hair still a little messy like he just rolled out of bed. He nods at you as he walks in, casual as anything, like this is routine. Like this is where he always starts his mornings.

You look up from the returns cart, caught off guard again, even though you really shouldn’t be.

“Back so soon?” you ask.

Pedri grins. “Told you I’d come give a review.”

You raise a brow. “Already finished it?”

He hesitates for a split second, just enough to give himself away. “Yeah. Last night.”

You don’t call him out on it. Not yet.

Instead, you lean your elbow on the counter. “Alright then, what did you think?”

He opens his mouth, pauses, then scratches the back of his neck. “I liked the writing.”

“The writing.”

“Yeah.”

You stare.

He stares back.

And then you laugh, turning away so he won’t see how smug your smile is. “So you didn’t read it.”

“I skimmed it,” he says, not even pretending to be offended. “I got the vibe.”

“You bought a whole book for ‘the vibe?’”

He shrugs. “Is that not valid?”

You roll your eyes. “Barely.”

Pedri leans on the counter, watching you like you’re the most interesting thing in the building. “You got another one for me, then?”

“You’re gonna waste your whole offseason budget on novels you’re not reading.”

He grins wider. “That’s fine. Worth it.”

You give him something else. Something you haven’t even opened yet. He doesn’t look at the synopsis. Doesn’t even pretend to read the back. He just hands over his card like this is a normal exchange and not a weird kind of tradition you’re both pretending isn’t happening.

He leaves with the book in hand and nothing else.

You watch him walk past the window, down the street, flipping the cover open like he might actually try this time. He probably won’t.

He’s back the next morning.

And the next.

By day five, you’ve stopped asking if he’s read anything. He just walks in, does a little head nod in greeting, and leans on the register like this is his full-time job.

You make fun of him.

He takes it in stride.

Sometimes you talk about other things. The heat. The new windows they’re installing on the second floor. His mamá’s obsession with crime dramas. Your current reading slump. His brother Fer stopping by just to be annoying.

“Fer’s the same,” he says, digging through the candy jar on the counter. “Still makes fun of me for everything. Saw the book on my desk last night and started reading the blurbs in a dramatic voice.”

You laugh. “He would.”

“He asked if I was writing love poems again.”

“Wait- again?”

Pedri goes still for a moment, then gives you a guilty side glance.

You blink. “Hold on. You used to write poems?”

“Absolutely not.”

“That’s so dramatic of you.”

“I didn’t,” he insists, but he’s smiling, and you can tell he’s lying.

You don’t press it.

You do tease him about it for the next two days.

Each book you hand over is less of a recommendation and more of a challenge. You start stacking the most emotional, dramatic ones you can find. Stuff you know he’s definitely not reading - 600-page generational sagas, postmodern romance with mixed timelines, depressing rural coming-of-age stories with metaphors for the sun.

He buys every single one.

Doesn’t even blink.

You’ve got a growing stack of receipt slips under the register with his name on them. Pedro González López. You don’t point it out, but you start organizing them in a little pile like they mean something. You tell yourself it’s for accounting. That’s a lie.

You catch him loitering more and more, hanging back even after the purchase is done. Watching you reshelve paperbacks like it’s fascinating, offering to help when the delivery boxes come in. One afternoon, he ends up alphabetizing a whole table of historical fiction because he’s “bored.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him.

“I like doing nothing here,” he replies.

It makes your chest weirdly tight.

You’re still not sure what this is. It’s not flirting, not obviously. He hasn’t asked for your number or made any kind of real move. But it’s not casual either. You know the difference between someone being polite and someone showing up every day just to hear you talk.

You know what it looks like when Pedri likes someone.

You just don’t want to assume.

On day ten, he buys a novella that’s barely 100 pages and has a cover so pretentious it makes you laugh out loud when he brings it to the counter.

“You’re not even trying anymore,” you say.

“I’m branching out,” he insists.

“To books you can finish in one train ride.”

He winks. “Exactly.”

You hold the book in your hands, spine resting against your palm, and glance up at him slowly.

“You know you don’t have to keep buying them.”

Pedri’s smile falters. Just slightly.

You wait.

“I know,” he says.

You tilt your head. “Then why do you keep coming back?”

He hesitates - not embarrassed, but thoughtful. Like he’s been holding that answer for a while but wasn’t planning to say it out loud.

Then he shrugs and says, “I like talking to you.”

Your heart stutters in your chest.

And Pedri, as usual, doesn’t press.

He just takes his book and leaves, that same calm grin on his face, like he didn’t just say the most honest thing he’s ever said to you.

The cup is warm when he places it on the counter.

You don’t think much of it at first. Just another morning, another one of Pedri’s quiet little habits. But this time he doesn’t follow it with a book or a dumb comment about how he’s “branching into classics.” He just slides the cup toward you and nods.

“For you.”

You glance at it, then at him. “What is it?”

“Try it.”

You narrow your eyes a little. Suspicious. But you pick it up, peel the lid back slightly, and take a sip.

It stops you in your tracks.

You lower the cup slowly. “No way.”

Pedri says nothing. Just watches you.

You sip again. Slower. Trying to make sure your memory isn’t messing with you.

But it’s exactly the same. You know it instantly. The same hot chocolate you used to drink in homeroom. Smooth, rich, just sweet enough. And then that other part, that quiet little twist of flavor at the end. You never figured out what it was. You’d tried. Went to every café nearby back then. Ordered hot chocolate over and over again and never once found the same taste.

You even gave up eventually. Told yourself you were imagining it.

But now it’s back, sitting in your hands like it never left.

You look up at him. “Where did you get this?”

He shrugs. “Same place.”

You blink. “What place?”

Pedri doesn’t answer.

You frown. “You never told me where it was.”

“You never asked.”

“Yes, I did.”

He gives you a little smile. “You didn’t ask hard enough.”

You stare at him. “Is it close?”

“It’s on the way to the school. Still open.”

You try to think back. That one little street near the bus stop? Or the bakery side street?

“You used to bring this to me all the time,” you say slowly. “Every time it was cold.”

He nods. “Figured you wouldn’t get one yourself.”

“I didn’t even know what it was.”

“You liked it though.”

You pause.

“Yeah,” you admit. “I really did.”

Pedri takes a sip from his own cup. “You used to drink it before saying anything. Every time. Then you’d look at me like you’d just solved the meaning of life.”

You laugh under your breath. “It was good.”

“It still is.”

You study him.

“You never told me what made it taste like that.”

“Nope.”

“Are you going to now?”

“Nope.”

“It’s something weird, isn’t it?”

“It’s not that weird.”

You roll your eyes and take another sip. The taste hits your tongue again, but you still can’t name it. You just know it tastes like first period on a cold morning. Like plastic chairs and grey uniforms and the soft scrape of notebooks opening beside you. Like him.

You shake your head. “I thought maybe it was the milk. Or cinnamon or something. I even bought hot chocolate mix and tried to make it at home.”

“I know,” he says. “You told me.” But he would never tell you that that ‘twist’ was simply a shot of caramel.

Your smile slips a little. “I didn’t think you remembered.”

He shrugs again, more carefully this time. “I remember a lot of things.”

You look down at the drink. The taste hits again - not just the flavor but everything tied to it. Early mornings. Cold fingers. Him sitting next to you, half-asleep with his hood up, sliding the cup across your desk like it was nothing.

Back then, you didn’t think much of it. You figured he was just nice. Just a friend.

Now?

You’re starting to think you missed something.

You glance back up. “So is this your new thing now? Showing up every day with nostalgia in a cup?”

Pedri raises his eyebrows. “Depends. Is it working?”

You say nothing.

But you take another sip.

He smiles.

He doesn’t bring a book this time.

That’s the first thing you notice.

It’s late morning, sun already warming the floor through the front windows, and you’re flipping through invoices when the bell above the door rings. You glance up out of habit.

Pedri steps inside, same as always - plain white shirt, curls slightly flattened by the wind, sneakers just a little too clean for someone who walks everywhere. But there’s no book in his hand, no paper bag, not even a coffee today.

Just him.

He walks over to the counter slowly. Hands in his pockets. A little quieter than usual.

You smile at him anyway. “No reading material today?”

He shakes his head. “No book.”

You pause, noticing the shift. His tone’s different. Not in a bad way, just… more focused. Like he’s not here to joke around this time.

“Okay,” you say carefully. “So what brings you in?”

He looks at you for a second. Really looks. And then:

“I want to ask you something.”

Your stomach pulls tight.

You lean an elbow on the counter, trying to play it cool. “Alright. Hit me.”

He exhales slowly, like he’s been holding it in.

“Do you want to get coffee? With me.”

There’s a pause. Not awkward - just quiet.

You blink. “Like. As in-”

“As in a date,” he says. Simple. Direct.

Your brain takes a second to catch up. Because even though you knew, even though the books and the hot chocolate and the soft glances all pointed in this direction, hearing it is different. It makes it real. Tangible. Inescapable.

Pedri watches you carefully. He’s not nervous, exactly. But he’s serious. Waiting for an answer like it matters.

Because it does.

You straighten up slightly. “You want to get coffee.”

He nods once. “Yeah.”

You chew the inside of your cheek. “You don’t even like coffee.”

“I like cafés.”

You squint at him. “You like me.”

A beat.

He smiles. “Yeah.”

You let out a breath, short and soft. Then you shake your head, smiling without meaning to.

“God, I was so oblivious in high school.”

“I noticed.”

“You really brought me drinks before class for months.”

“I remember.”

“And you never said anything.”

“You weren’t ready to hear it.”

You pause again. That one hits.

Pedri just waits. No pressure. No charming line. No performance. Just a quiet ask, out in the open, finally.

And maybe it’s the way the light hits the floor between you. Or the fact that he didn’t bring a book because today wasn’t about pretending. Or maybe it’s the hot chocolate still sitting in your memory like a bookmark.

But you nod.

“Okay.”

His eyebrows lift, surprised. “Yeah?��

“Yeah,” you say, laughing lightly. “Let’s get coffee.”

Pedri lets out the smallest breath of relief. Then he nods, smiling like something’s finally clicked into place.

“Cool. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow works.”

He taps the counter once with his fingers, like a quiet thank-you, and starts backing toward the door.

“I’ll pick you up,” he adds.

You blink. “You don’t even know where I live.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You still in the same place as school?”

“…Yeah.”

He grins. “I remember.”

And then he’s gone. Just like that.

The bell jingles behind him, and you’re left standing behind the counter, hands warm against the wood, heart a little too loud in your chest.

You think about all the times you missed it. The glances. The drinks. The way he always remembered what you liked without needing reminders.

And now, finally, he’s asked.

And you said yes.

You almost text him to cancel.

Not because you don’t want to go - you do. God, you do. But part of you still can’t quite believe this is happening. Like maybe you imagined the whole thing. The books. The hot chocolate. The quiet way he looked at you yesterday like you already knew how he felt.

You don’t cancel though.

You wait outside your building at 10:58, chewing the inside of your lip, hands tucked into your jacket sleeves. He said “morning” like it wasn’t a big deal, like he wasn’t completely aware that mornings are his thing, his whole memory pressed into that time of day. The way he always used to show up with something warm in his hands, before your first class, before you even knew to look for him.

So when his car pulls up and he leans across the seat to wave, you don’t hesitate.

You climb in, buckle your seatbelt, and say, “Hi.”

He grins at you. “Hi.”

He takes you to a little café by the water. Not the one where he gets the hot chocolate, not a chain, just something in between quiet, local, wood tables and scratched-up floors and a chalkboard menu that’s more vibe than function. It smells like cinnamon and espresso and something buttery coming out of the kitchen.

You find a table in the corner by the window. He lets you sit first.

Neither of you says much at first.

You order something simple - tea, a pastry you can pick at if things get awkward. He orders a drink and then doesn’t touch it for the first ten minutes. You don’t either.

It’s not uncomfortable.

It’s just careful.

There’s something about sitting across from someone who knew you at seventeen. Not just in passing, not as a classmate, but someone who knew your schedule, your moods, the way you used to scribble notes in the margins of your planner with colored pens. You used to sit next to him every weekday morning, completely unaware he was in love with you.

And now you’re here.

You reach for your tea. “So. You want me to pretend this is a normal first date?”

Pedri laughs softly. “Is it not?”

“No. Not even close.”

He raises a brow. “What makes it different?”

“Do you want the list alphabetically or chronologically?”

“Surprise me.”

You take a bite of your pastry. “Okay. A) You’ve been stalking my TBR list for two weeks. B) You brought me a drink from some café I couldn’t find for four years. And C) You remembered my old address without asking.”

Pedri sips his drink, clearly unbothered. “None of that’s weird.”

You lean back in your chair. “Okay. So what is weird?”

He looks at you for a moment. Thoughtfully. “We’ve known each other forever. But I feel like this is the first time I’m really getting to talk to you.”

You pause.

He’s not wrong.

It was different back then. You were busy trying to get through school. He was already playing for Las Palmas, already half-out-the-door. You knew he had early training, late matches, extra hours on the pitch that kept him from weekend parties. You never really thought about how tired he must’ve been showing up with that drink in his hand before first period.

You just drank it.

You stir your tea. “Why didn’t you ever say anything back then?”

Pedri rests his arms on the table, his voice quiet. “I didn’t want to ruin anything.”

You glance up at him.

“I liked you,” he says. “A lot. But you had no idea. And I think part of me liked it that way. I could just… show up. Be there.”

You exhale, staring at your cup.

“I think I knew,” you admit. “But not really. You know?”

He nods. “Yeah. You didn’t owe me anything.”

You chew the inside of your cheek.

“I kind of hate that I didn’t notice more.”

He smiles gently. “I don’t.”

You meet his eyes.

“If I had said something then,” he adds, “we might’ve dated, yeah. But maybe we would’ve broken up after school, when I moved. Or drifted. Or lost touch.”

You blink. “That’s… optimistic.”

“It’s realistic,” he says. “And I didn’t want to lose you completely.”

You sit with that for a second.

Then you look down at your hands. “So why now?”

Pedri doesn’t look away.

“Because you’re here,” he says. “And I am too. And for once, there’s no reason not to try.”

Your chest tightens.

There’s no pressure in his voice. No panic. Just a quiet steadiness, like this isn’t a line, just a fact. He wants to know you now. On purpose. No more half-hinting. No more warm drinks dropped off like favors.

He wants this.

And suddenly you do too.

You reach for your tea again. “Okay. So now what?”

Pedri tilts his head. “Now we drink. We eat. I try not to do anything embarrassing. You pretend I’m cool.”

You smile. “That sounds fair.”

“And maybe after,” he adds, “we go for a walk. Or talk more. Or make plans again.”

“Like a second date?”

He grins. “Like a second date.”

You look out the window. The sky is clear, and the breeze is moving through the palms across the street. And for the first time in a while, you feel still.

No guessing. No overthinking.

Just here.

With him.

2 years later - in Barcelona.

The light comes in slow.

It creeps through the gaps in the curtains, soft and golden, brushing over the white sheets tangled around your legs. The room is still. Quiet. The kind of quiet you don’t notice until you really stop moving. The kind that makes you stay exactly where you are.

Pedri’s arm is draped across your waist. Warm. Heavy. Familiar.

His breath is steady against the back of your neck, slow and even, mouth slightly parted where his face is pressed into your shoulder. You can feel the way his chest rises and falls behind you, bare skin against bare skin, like his whole body is relaxed in that way it only gets when he knows he doesn’t have to be anywhere else.

You shift slightly, just to get a better look at him.

He’s still completely asleep. Eyelashes soft against his cheeks, lips a little chapped from the sun, curls a mess against the pillow. You smile to yourself. Two years in, and he still sleeps like a boy with nothing to prove. Peaceful. Trusting.

You press your nose into the side of his arm, breathing him in. He smells like sleep and sunscreen and that lemony soap you both pretend not to steal from each other in the shower. It’s too early to think about breakfast. Too early to move. You’re not even sure what day it is.

You don’t care.

You just lie there, warm and tucked in beside him, his leg slotted between yours like he’s still making sure you’re close enough, even in his sleep.

This morning isn’t special. There’s no holiday. No plan.

Just him.

Just you.

And the way it all feels so easy now.

You look up at the ceiling for a long moment, listening to the city outside the window - faint noise, a car horn, someone laughing on the street - but it feels far away. Like nothing could really touch this.

You glance back at him.

He twitches once, like he’s on the edge of waking up. You press your hand to his chest gently, and he settles again. His skin is warm under your palm, heartbeat slow and steady beneath it.

You let your fingers trace soft circles there, careful not to wake him. Not yet.

You want to stay like this a little longer.

You’re not thinking about how you got here, not replaying old moments or comparing who you used to be. You just feel it. Right now. This morning. This boy. This love.

You turn your head and press the smallest kiss to his shoulder, just a whisper against his skin.

Pedri stirs, but doesn’t wake.

You smile.

And close your eyes again.

Just for a little while.

Just to hold onto this feeling a bit longer.

You must drift for a while, somewhere between asleep and not, because when you open your eyes again, the light has changed. Brighter now, warmer, stretching across the hardwood floors in thick golden lines. The corner of the sheet has slipped off your shoulder, and you shiver just slightly before tucking it back up.

Pedri’s breath stirs at the base of your neck.

You can feel it - the moment he starts waking. It’s subtle. His fingers twitch lightly against your stomach, then settle again. His head shifts, nuzzling closer into the curve of your shoulder blade. He hums softly under his breath, too low for words, more instinct than anything else.

You don’t say anything. You just reach down and brush your fingertips across the back of his hand where it rests on you, slow and soft, until you feel him squeeze gently in response.

“Mmm,” he mumbles.

You smile without turning around. “Good morning.”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just presses a sleepy kiss to your shoulder. Barely there. A habit more than anything. He always does that first, before opening his eyes, before even saying your name. Like his way of checking you’re still real.

“Too early,” he says eventually, voice thick with sleep.

“It’s not,” you say, still smiling. “You’ve already slept in.”

“How much?”

You glance at the clock on the dresser. “Past nine.”

He groans into your back. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Sabes que no me gusta eso,” he mutters. His Spanish comes out more when he’s sleepy, words lazy and unfiltered.

“You love it,” you murmur, shifting slightly so you can roll onto your back. His arm stays wrapped around your waist, and now you’re facing him, his head half-buried in the pillow.

His eyes are still barely open. Warm brown, soft at the corners. Sleepy and familiar.

“You love this,” you add. “Lying in. No alarms. No travel. Just… this.”

He huffs a breath out through his nose, but there’s no argument. He shifts closer instead, tucking his face into the crook of your neck now, hand slipping under the fabric of your shirt to rest against your bare skin.

You let him.

You always do.

He sighs again, this time more content.

It’s been two years, and he still holds you like this every chance he gets. Like he wants to memorize the weight of you against him. Like this is the part of his day that matters most - not the goals, not the interviews, not even the training. Just this. You. Him. Morning light and messy sheets, and no need to speak unless you want to.

You slip your fingers into his hair and gently rake through the curls. They’re soft today, still damp from last night’s shower, flattened weirdly on one side where he slept too hard.

He doesn’t complain.

He just melts.

“Do we have to get up?” he asks eventually, voice muffled against your throat.

“Not yet.”

“How long can we stay like this before it’s irresponsible?”

You smile. “Let’s find out.”

He laughs quietly, breath warm on your skin.

You shift again so you can look at him properly. His face is relaxed, pillow-creased, the last traces of sleep still softening his features. You brush your thumb along his jaw. He catches your hand in his and kisses your knuckles.

“I like waking up next to you,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious truth in the world.

You don’t answer right away.

You just look at him, really look, and try to wrap your head around how something can feel so normal and so unbelievable at the same time.

Then you say, just as quietly, “I like waking up next to you too.”

Pedri grins. Eyes crinkled, warm and slow. “Yeah?”

You lean in. Press your forehead against his. “Yeah.”

He kisses you then, properly this time. No hesitation. Just the kind of kiss that says good morning and I love you and I don’t care what time it is, as long as you’re right here.

When you pull apart, neither of you says anything for a while.

You just breathe in the same rhythm. Hands tucked against each other. Legs tangled under the covers. The sun pouring in like it was made for this room and this morning and this version of you two.

You close your eyes again.

Not to sleep.

Just to be here.

With him.

You both fall continue resting.

It starts with the smallest shift, his leg sliding against yours under the blanket, a soft groan into the pillow, and then the weight of his arm dragging you closer, like you could somehow still drift away if he doesn’t keep you there.

Then comes the breath.

Long. Deep. The kind that says okay, I’m awake now, but I don’t want to be.

You smile before you even open your eyes.

“You’re awake,” you murmur, voice still raspy with sleep.

Pedri hums, forehead pressed to your shoulder. “Barely.”

“You slept in.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

You shift slightly so you can see his face. His eyes are still half-closed, lashes tangled, lips puffy with sleep. He looks good like this, warm and soft and completely real.

“Not a bad thing,” you say, brushing a hand through his curls. “Just rare.”

He cracks one eye open. “Means I’m relaxed.”

You kiss his temple. “You’re getting soft.”

“Yeah, well,” he mumbles into your skin, “I live with someone who tucks me in like a kid and lets me sleep on top of them half the night. What do you expect?”

“Dignity?”

He laughs, low and warm, and then finally pulls back enough to stretch. His arm reaches behind him, and he lets out another long groan, face scrunching up like he’s trying to wrestle the sleep from his bones.

“Hungry?” you ask.

His head flops dramatically back into the pillow. “Starving.”

You smile. “Let’s go then.”

“I don’t wanna get up.”

“Well, if you want breakfast, you have to.”

He groans like a child.

You roll your eyes and shove at his shoulder until he finally, finally, gets up. He’s still shirtless, hair a disaster, underwear sitting low on his hips as he swings his legs over the side of the bed and yawns.

You get up too, dragging the sheet with you until you find your sweatshirt from the night before, slipping it over your head. Pedri watches you from the bed, still half-asleep and clearly trying to pretend he’s not checking you out.

“Stop staring,” you say.

“I’m not,” he lies, stretching again. “You just look good in my clothes.”

You ignore him and leave the bedroom barefoot, and he follows a few seconds later, trailing after you like a puppy, yawning every ten steps.

The kitchen’s bright. Morning light bounces off the tiled counters and hits the pale cabinets in a way that makes everything feel cleaner than it is. There’s a mug on the counter from last night, and you shove it aside to make space.

Pedri leans against the fridge, watching you as you rummage through the cupboards.

“Eggs?”

“Sure.”

“Toast?”

“Obviously.”

“Are you gonna help?”

“I’m moral support.”

You throw a kitchen towel at him. “Chop something or I swear.”

He laughs and finally moves, grabbing a cutting board and pulling out the tomatoes. You grab the eggs, crack them into a bowl, and start whisking lazily while he slices - a little too slow, a little too uneven - but you don’t care. It’s not about speed. It’s not even really about food. It’s just this.

Being here.

Doing this.

The eggs go into the pan, and the tomatoes hit the skillet next to them. Pedri stands behind you at one point, arms slipping around your waist while you stir. He rests his chin on your shoulder and just stays there for a minute.

“Smells good,” he says softly.

You glance back at him. “You did nothing.”

“I did emotional labor.”

You laugh and bump him with your hip. He presses a kiss to your jaw and grabs two plates, setting them out on the counter.

When the food’s done, you both sit at the bar stools in front of the window. The city outside is alive now - cars moving, people walking, the occasional bark from a dog passing. But it still feels quiet in here. Like the noise can’t really reach you.

Pedri eats slowly, like he’s in no rush. He reaches out with his foot every so often, nudging yours under the counter just to feel you close.

“You’re domestic now,” you tease.

He chews dramatically. “You love it.”

You smile down at your toast. “Maybe I do.”

He grins. That sleepy, happy, I-know-I-have-you kind of grin. You let the moment stretch between bites, between lazy glances and shared silences that don’t need to be filled.

Two years in.

Still the best part of your day.

Still him.

Still this.

The shower’s already running by the time you step in, steam curling at the edges of the glass. Pedri’s standing under the spray, head tilted back, water streaming through his curls as he blindly reaches for the bottle of shampoo.

You step up behind him and take it from his hand.

“I got it,” you say.

He glances over his shoulder, grinning lazily. “Service with a smile.”

“Shut up and turn around.”

He does. You squeeze shampoo into your palm and reach up, lathering it slowly into his hair, fingers massaging through the soft curls. He hums under his breath, eyes fluttering shut, leaning into your touch without hesitation.

“You’re spoiled,” you mutter.

“Keep doing that and I won’t deny it.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling as you rinse him off, fingers gentle as the water runs clear. He blinks down at you, water dripping from his lashes, lips parted slightly like he’s going to say something - but instead, he just leans forward and kisses the tip of your nose.

“Your turn,” he says, and before you can protest, he’s nudging you to face away.

You hear him pop open your bottle of shampoo - the one he always pretends not to use even though he loves the smell - and then his fingers are in your hair. Careful, thorough, slower than necessary. He takes his time, thumbs pressing little circles into your scalp while you close your eyes and let your shoulders relax.

“You’re good at this,” you murmur.

“Should’ve gone to cosmetology school.”

You laugh, and he leans in to kiss the back of your shoulder.

Rinsing off turns into another excuse to stay close. He wraps his arms around your waist from behind while you both stand under the spray, and you lean back into him, warm water running down your skin. Neither of you talks for a bit. There’s no need.

It’s just comfort.

Closeness.

Hands in hair. Skin on skin. Routines turned into rituals without even meaning to.

You turn around, water splashing between you, and kiss him once - slow, wet, and sleepy.

“Best part of the morning,” he mumbles.

You grin. “Told you you’re soft now.”

He shrugs. “Only for you.”

And you believe it. Completely.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 17

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: Suicide character.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Author Note: After this, you will hate Steve more.

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

"Historic Victory! Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes Elected with Record-Breaking Votes."

You stood among the crowd in awe, feeling the gravity of the moment as Bucky stepped up first to take his oath. His right hand rested on the Bible, and his voice was steady, resonating across the packed hall and through the media broadcasted nationwide.

“I, James Buchanan Barnes, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic, that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same, and that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion.”

He glanced at you briefly, pride mingling with disbelief in his eyes as he finished, “I pledge to faithfully discharge the duties of the office upon which I am about to enter, so help me God.”

It was almost surreal, watching Bucky stand here, on the cusp of history. You could hardly believe it. He had done it; he was now the Vice President of the United States.

Then came Steve’s turn. He took his oath with an unwavering focus, his voice rich with conviction:

“I, Steven Grant Rogers, do solemnly swear to faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.”

As Steve finished his oath, the crowd erupted into applause. He stepped forward, eyes fierce with resolve, and gave his inaugural speech. "Today, we embark on a new journey,” he began, his words confident and calculated. “I promise to carve out every rotten part to make this country stronger and more flourishing than ever.” The crowd cheered wildly, the energy of the historic day surging through the masses.

Standing close to Bucky, you leaned toward him and whispered, “I hate him.”

He gave a small, amused smirk, clearing his throat as he pulled you closer, his arm draping protectively over your shoulder. “Stay calm, dear,” he whispered back. “We don’t want your bitter expression captured for posterity.” He pressed his hand gently against your back as you both moved through the crowd.

Across the room, Peggy watched the two of you, noting the way Bucky’s hand never left yours, even when he greeted others. The warmth and easy familiarity between you were evident to all. Peggy, however, stood isolated beside Steve, even as every camera focused on them as the new First Couple. She was now the First Lady, yet she felt utterly invisible.

Because in Steve's eyes, he only looked for Hazel. She remembered the disappointment on his face when he learned that the woman and the little boy were not joining him for the inauguration.

Then Caroline Barnes and her husband Julius approached her, their expressions triumphant. Caroline, with a rare, large smile, was the first to speak. “Congratulations, Peggy,” she said, her tone sweet yet cold.

She’d been Peggy’s confidante for years—long before the politics, the campaigns, and all the layers of public life that followed. They shared memories that went back to the days when they were just two young women navigating life and love, laughing over coffee and late-night conversations.

You couldn’t help but notice Caroline’s rare smile as she looked at you next, her eyes flashing with satisfaction. The silent message was clear: you had fulfilled your promise, standing beside her son as the Vice President’s wife.

Bucky, noticing her cold glare toward you, leaned in and murmured, “Seems like you’ve won her over.”

Just then, Natasha, a familiar figure in her sleek Secret Service uniform, approached you both. Her tone was clipped and professional. “The President would like to see you,” she said, giving you a pointed look.

You felt Bucky tense slightly beside you. As you moved to follow Natasha, Bucky instinctively stepped forward too.

“Alone,” Natasha added, her gaze shifting to Bucky.

You exchanged a confused look with him, both of you uncertain as to why you were being called without him. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. With one last glance, you followed Natasha toward the Oval Office.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The Oval Office was imposing, vast and elegant. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the room, yet the weight of history and power was palpable in every corner. The walls were lined with portraits of past leaders, and every polished surface seemed to reflect Steve’s ascendant status. He stood before the massive, iconic desk, hands clasped behind his back, exuding an air of unyielding authority. In this space, he looked like a man who could command nations—a conqueror with the world at his feet.

As you entered, Steve turned, offering you a polished smile that held no warmth. “I imagine you’re wondering why I wanted you here alone,” he said, voice smooth yet laced with an edge that left no room for misinterpretation.

Your thoughts were racing. Being in this room with him—Steve Rogers, the man who had climbed to the highest seat of power while leaving a wake of destruction in his path—felt surreal. You could feel the walls closing in, every inch of the Oval Office amplifying the cold reality of his ambition.

Steve raised a single finger, his tone shifting to one of playful scorn. "Not once did you congratulate me." He let the silence hang, watching you. "I know why. You blame me for your friend’s death.”

Your fists clenched, nails digging into your palms as his accusation hit you. “So you admit it?” you shot back, unable to mask the tremor of anger in your voice.

He scoffed, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. “Admit it? That man almost sabotaged the campaign. He betrayed you, and when he paid the price, I’m the one you despise? Most people would thank me.”

The words stung, each syllable a twist of the knife. He continued, almost mockingly, his voice lowering as he leaned slightly forward. “Are you sure you’re up for this fight?” His gaze sharpened, piercing. “Find a better reason to hate me.”

Every word he spoke grated against you, each line deliberately crafted to sting. But you swallowed, forcing yourself to keep your expression steady, refusing to let him see the turmoil swirling inside.

He shook his head, dismissing your anger with a faint chuckle, then leaned back against the desk. “What’s your plan, then? After you bring me down—let’s say you even succeed—what’s next? Do you want Nate to grow up with a criminal for a father?”

Your mind raced, the walls of the Oval Office seeming to close in even further as his words lingered in the air. Steve's gaze was fixed on you, measuring, calculating your silence. And then, as if sensing your hesitation, he gave a triumphant smile, his voice like velvet but colder. “I’m glad we could come to an understanding.”

He turned his back, leaving you standing there, stunned. 🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Four Months Later

You sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the TV as Steve’s face filled the screen. Every channel was the same, broadcasting praise for him, with pundits and newscasters barely containing their admiration. It was unsettling. The media, usually fierce in their critiques, seemed almost reverent. You clenched your jaw, your annoyance simmering under the polished surface of his televised speeches and the careful flattery of his supporters.

From behind you, Bucky spoke up, his tone casual yet knowing. “That’s why people like him,” he said, coming closer. “He never once said he’d make this country fair or just. But he’s proving himself, little by little.”

You looked up, catching his serious expression. He continued, “Steve knew that every leader who vows fairness and justice ends up being despised as soon as they’re in power. They turn into exactly what they swore they’d destroy.”

You couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of your voice. “So… can we abdicate him?”

Bucky laughed softly. “Abdicate Steve?” He smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Honey, that’s a little extreme, even for you.”

“Steve’s ascension was legitimate. He fits the role, and from what the surveys say, voter turnout was historic.” He paused, meeting your gaze with a measured seriousness. “Overthrowing him would shatter public trust—not just in him, but in the entire government.”

“Would it, though?” you asked, challenging him with a raised eyebrow.

Bucky sighed, crossing over to sit beside you. He rested his hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t focus on Steve alone—consider what my position means now too. I’m still seen as ‘the new kid,’ the one who made it here because of him. Plenty of people are watching, eager to see me stumble.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the determination there, but also the caution. Bucky knew the stakes, perhaps even more than you. You could feel the weight he carried, the delicate balancing act of supporting Steve while laying the groundwork for his own ambitions.

He took a deep breath, leaning closer, his voice low and resolute. “People may believe in me, but if we move too fast, we’ll lose them. And I won’t let that happen. I know you believe I could make a good president—and I plan to get there. But…” He paused, looking into your eyes, “we have to be patient.”

You remembered the priest’s words: ‘Believe in God’s timing.’ Patience, the one thing you struggled with most in a situation like this. But you trusted Bucky. You could feel his strength, his restraint, his understanding of the game they were all playing.

Bucky’s gaze softened, but his words were firm. “To succeed, I have to publicly support Steve, at least for now. In politics, loyalty and trust are everything. We need them on our side.”

As you processed his words, a chilling realization sank in. Steve’s mocking question echoed in your mind: “Are you sure you’re a match for me?” He was right—his plans were meticulous, every move calculated for safety. And Bucky was right too. This was a game of patience, timing, and subtlety.

But the question remained: Who would be powerful enough to finally bring Steve down?

🌸🌸🌸🌸

At the White House, Peggy approached the front entrance, only to be stopped by two Secret Service agents, their expressions impassive.

“I'm here to see my husband,” she said, her voice firm, though a tremor betrayed her unease.

One of the agents cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, ma’am. You don’t have clearance to enter.”

She blinked, the words sinking in like a slap. “Excuse me? This is my husband's residence. I have every right to be here.”

The agent’s face remained unreadable. “I understand, but orders are orders. Mr. Rogers specified… no access.”

Humiliated, Peggy took a step back, heat rising to her cheeks as a cold realization struck her: Steve was truly keeping his word. She was being kept out of his life, and now, out of his home. She turned, bitterness flooding her chest, and started down the steps, fighting to keep her composure.

As she walked toward her car, laughter drifted from the garden. Curiosity sparked, and she moved toward a nearby window, peeking inside. There, in the garden, was Steve, laughing as he played with Nate, while Hazel sat on a bench, watching them, her smile soft and warm.

The scene twisted like a knife in Peggy’s heart. They look like a family.

She clenched her fists, forcing down a surge of fury and grief. In a voice barely more than a whisper, she asked the guard at her side, “How often do they come here?”

“Every weekend, ma’am,” the guard replied softly.

Her voice cracked as she stammered, “D-Do they… stay the night?”

The guard’s silence was enough, but he finally nodded, “Yes.”

The words struck her like a blow to the gut. She stays here? She sleeps in the White House? Peggy had never once been allowed to spend the night here, but Hazel—Hazel could? The injustice stung in a way that words couldn’t capture.

On her drive back, the scenes replayed over and over, thoughts like poison seeping into her mind. She remembered a press conference where Steve had passionately pledged to support local manufacturing, calling out Hazel as a shining example.

“Like one designer, Hazel Barnes,” he had said, the admiration in his voice unmistakable. “She’s the kind of woman who understands her privilege and uses it to lift others up. Her business is 100% local, supporting homegrown talent. If we had more people like her, this country would thrive.”

The memory burned, the admiration in his tone a raw wound. Not once had he praised her. Not when he was in the military, not when he became governor, not when he ran for Senate, and certainly not now, when he was president. Hazel was now his example, his ideal, the woman he chose to highlight.

By the time she finally reached home, it was close to midnight. She entered the house in a daze, weary from her own broken heart. Yet despite the pain, she clung to her duties, driven to exhaustion by a schedule that seemed never-ending. As she set her bag down, her assistant approached her, offering a warm, sympathetic smile.

“The twins had a good day today,” her assistant said softly. “They finished their study sessions and met with the psychiatrist. They’re making great progress."

Peggy’s tired eyes softened at the news. “Thank you. That’s… that’s wonderful.” She gave a slight nod, the smallest glimmer of peace settling in her chest.

Quietly, she made her way to the twins’ room and opened the door to find them still awake, caught in the glow of a handheld game console.

“Hi, Mom,” one of them greeted her, quickly hiding the console behind his back. Both boys looked at her with guilty smiles, expecting a reprimand.

But instead of scolding them, she stepped forward, placing a soft kiss on each of their foreheads before wrapping her arms around them in a rare, tender hug.

“Mom?” they asked, voices laced with concern as they took in her weary expression.

She managed a small, tired smile. “I’m just… tired. That’s all.”

One of the boys squeezed her hand. “Take a hot bath, Mom. We’ll make you some milk with honey.”

The gesture nearly brought tears to her eyes. “Thank you, boys,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. “Thank you so much.”

They left, shooting her worried looks over their shoulders as they went downstairs to prepare her drink. Peggy moved into her room, slipping off her heels and sitting at her vanity, removing her makeup with slow, methodical movements, as though going through the motions might somehow soothe her mind.

A knock came at her door, and she turned to see the twins standing there with a warm mug in hand, faces bright with concern. She mustered a smile, taking the milk from them. “Thank you,” she said, taking a sip. “It’s delicious.”

The twins lingered, watching her carefully, but after a moment, they seemed reassured. She looked the same as always—tired, maybe a little worn—but still their mother. With quiet “goodnights,” they slipped away to their room, leaving her alone in the silence of her own thoughts.

Peggy finished the drink, placing the empty mug down with trembling hands. She reached into her desk drawer, fingers brushing over an object she hadn’t touched in months. She pulled it out slowly, staring down at it for a long, heavy moment before standing and making her way to the bathroom.

She undressed and stepped into the hot bath, letting the warmth soak her weary body. But as the heat wrapped around her, it couldn’t reach the coldness embedded in her heart. She leaned her head back, staring up at the ceiling, her mind swirling with everything she had once hoped for Steve, all the faith she'd placed in him.

He was supposed to be different. She’d thought that becoming president would have brought out wisdom and fairness in him, but instead, he clung to his principles, more ruthless than ever. Memories of the admiration in his voice when he praised Hazel flooded her thoughts, a contrast so sharp it was almost cruel. Steve had never looked at her that way, never spoken her name with that warmth, that pride.

For a moment, her mind drifted to Bucky and you, the loyalty he had shown you, unwavering, year after year. In the past five years, through everything, he had remained faithful, and you had accepted him fully, supporting him in ways Peggy could hardly fathom. She had never known that kind of love with Steve.

She looked down at her wrist, fingers tightening around the object from her desk. Her phone lay beside her, and she typed a short message before putting it aside. She traced the edge of the object against her wrist, whispering, “I’ll set you free.” Her voice was barely audible, fragile against the silence.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

At 2 a.m., Steve was pulled from sleep by the sound of his bedroom door opening. He sat up, irritation flashing in his eyes, ready to reprimand whoever had dared disturb him. But then he saw Natasha standing there, her face pale, eyes wide with urgency.

“Mr. President… I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice tight, “but this is very urgent.”

A chill crept through him as her words seemed to hang in the air. He got out of bed and followed her, feeling as though he was moving through a thick fog.

Moments later, Steve found himself staring down at Peggy in the bathtub, her body pale and lifeless, the water around her a deep, dark red. His knees buckled, and he collapsed beside her, reaching for her, his arms wrapping around her as if he could somehow bring her back.

“Peggy…” he whispered, his voice breaking. He tightened his hold on her, feeling the unbearable weight of the silence that filled the room.

The twins, William and Charles, stood just outside, tears streaming down their faces, unable to fully grasp the scene before them. They looked at their mother, broken and cold, the life drained from her, and their father, on his knees, clutching her like a lifeline.

Natasha cleared her throat, eyes averted as she whispered, “Mr. President… we should make an announcement.”

Steve’s head snapped up, his eyes sharp and commanding. “Stop.” The firmness in his voice was absolute, leaving no room for argument.

The room fell into stunned silence.

“Tell the public that the First Lady has collapsed from exhaustion,” Steve said coldly. “She was tireless, supporting me without a moment’s rest. Now… she’s taking time to recover.”

The twins’ eyes widened, shock and betrayal mingling with their grief.

“Dad?!” William’s voice cracked, staring at his father in disbelief.

“It would be disastrous for this country to know that the First Lady took her own life,” Steve continued, his tone as unyielding as steel. “It would tarnish her memory. She’d be seen as unstable, weak. This is for her legacy, for the image she worked so hard to uphold.”

The twins shook their heads, voices choked with pain. “No. Mother isn’t like that. She’s not some unstable woman.”

Steve knelt beside them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders, his voice soft but unyielding. “Boys, trust me. This is for the best. We want people to remember your mother’s dedication, her strength. Not… this.”

He pulled them into an embrace, eyes glistening as he held them close, as if his grip alone could silence their pain. Over their shoulders, his gaze drifted back to Peggy’s lifeless form, his expression unreadable. For a split second, a small, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips as he thought, Her sacrifice won’t be forgotten.

Join the tag list:

@thezombieprostitute

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@dexter99

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@krissydclayton93

@itsteambarnes

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

@lassie-bird

@bighappypiels

@buckitostan

@barnesxstan

@bada-lee-ily

@mrsstuckyboo

@florie1

@cjand10

@sidraaaaaaaaa

@aritoocute

@crazyunsexycool

@mcira

@touchstarvedforbuckybarnes

@pattiemac1

@elizalexwil

@gingersnap-2

@whitexwolfxx310

@marvel-wifey-86

@kumointhesky

@hnnhbananananana

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@nouis-bum

@thebuckybarnesvault

@unaxv

@hzdhrtss

@blackbirdwitch22

@darsynia

@lokislady82

@bonkybarnes106

@kandis-mom

@imrandomstuffsblog

@chimchoom

@wintrsoldrluvr

@greatenthusiasttidalwave

@sebastians-love

@kythefangirl25

@mrsnikstan

@identity2212

@justsebstan

@clairoscharm

@billyseye

@g1g1l

@sxnshinebxcky

[emeraldserenade]

Omg, They Were Roommates ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: You're Joaquín's roommate and childhood best friend, there's always been feelings; yet, you've never acted on them. Or at least not until Joaquín finally snaps.

tw: fem!reader, doctor!reader, reader goes to church with her family (once and it's not specified what religion it is), so many pet names, reader has a wet dream, reader complains about a homophobic and transphobic father she encountered in the ER (he also yells at her and insults her), barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Roommate!Joaquín lives rent free in my head now. This took me HOURS because I kept getting distracted by Grease and Grease: Rise of The Pink Ladies. This is one of the longer things I've written too.

➽──────────────❥

Joaquín Torres was the bane of your existence, not because he was mean or rude or anyway upsetting. But because he was the opposite, he was nice and sweet and super calming. He was a gentleman, his mother raised him that way.

He would make you your favorite drink and meal when you had a bad day, he would rub your calfs after particularly long days on your feet, and he would always listen to you. He would actively listen to you, giving you advice or comfort depending on what you wanted or needed.

You're not sure when you fell for him, maybe it was a year after living together or maybe it was more recent, or maybe you have since senior year. You just knew that you were majorly screwed once you realized how much you loved him.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You were the bane of Joaquín's existence, you always have been. Ever since junior prom when Silas Grove asked you to go with him. Joaquín had helped with the whole thing, but the second you said yes, Joaquín had the urge to fight Silas. Joaquín had only ever wanted to fight one other person before that, Joel Martin had cheated on you the year before and you cried to Joaquín about it.

Joaquín had known he loved you since that moment, and when the senior prom came the next year, he asked you to go with him.

"You want to go to prom with me?" You looked away from the mirror where you were doing your eyeliner.

"Yeah, I mean, you were just saying how you didn't want to go alone and no one has asked," Joaquín played it off with a shrug.

"Aren't you supposed to ask Tiffany or whatever her name is to prom?" You questioned.

"That's not her name, but no. She's been telling everyone that I will but I never said I would, and I don't like her like that," Joaquín told you and you gave him a relieved look.

"Oh, thank God. She annoys me," you mumbled. "And yeah, I'll go to prom with you," you told Joaquín, you were about to tack on a joke but Joaquín beat you to it.

"I'll bring flowers and a handmade poster and properly prompose to you," Joaquín told you.

You thought it was a joke, but one Sunday while you were being ushered to the car for church by your mom, Joaquín stood by the car. He had flowers in one hand and the poster in the other, a smile on his face.

"Joaquín, what is going on?" You slowly stepped closer to him as his smile started to become infectious.

"I told you that I would prompose properly, so y/n, would you go to prom with me?" Joaquín asked and you laughed while nodding.

"Of course I will," you took the flowers and stood next to him for the photo your mom insisted on taking. You quickly ran the two things into the house before leaving with your family, plus Joaquín, to church. A look over at Joaquín in the car, and you realized how pretty he actually was. Maybe going to prom with him, maybe falling in love with him, is what fate had for you.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You typically avoided having girls night at your place, your friends all either lived together, alone, or with their longtime partner, so you always thought having it at yours was pointless. You didn't want to put Joaquín out of the apartment or have him suffer through the giggles and loudness of your night. But Jennie was sick and Kelly didn't want to get anyone else sick, but it was too late for the others to try and get their boyfriends to agree.

"I'll ask Joaquín," you sighed, you felt bad for having to reschedule but also felt bad about possibly making Joaquín uncomfortable.

"Hey, espléndida," Joaquín answered the phone, you weren't sure what he called you but his Spanish nicknames always made your stomach flutter. espléndida = gorgeous

"Hey, is it ok if girls night moves to our house?" You asked, your nerves evident in your voice.

"Of course it is, I told Sam I'd play call of duty with him tonight anyway," Joaquín told you and you let your shoulder's relax.

"Ok, I'll see you when you get home," you hung up with a goodbye. "We can meet at my house," you told them and they all nodded before going back to your lunch.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Are you sure you're ok with this?" You questioned Joaquín as you stood in the doorway to his room. He was setting up his desk for his game time over the phone with Sam, he had a few drinks on his desk and a bag full of snacks you got him from the store.

"Cariño, I am more than ok with you having friends over," Joaquín walked over and placed his hands on your upper arms. Cariño = honey

"Ok, if we're too loud, tell me and I'll quiet us down. Oh, and you don't need to stay in here, it's your house too," you added on and Joaquín just gave you a small hug.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"How come we've never met your roommate?" Kelly questioned you, you looked up at the sudden question with wide eyes and a mouth full of food. You quickly finished chewing so you could answer.

"He's always been at work when we hang out," you explained.

"And now?"

"He's playing with a friend on a game," you told them and Kelly raised her eyebrows at you. "You want to meet him, don't you?" Kelly nodded her head and you had a thought. "I'll bring him some food and when he is done, he'll bring the plate down and you'll at the very least see him," you explained, moving to stand to make him a plate.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Joaquín?" You gently cracked the door and saw he was sitting through the best kill replay.

"Hey, querida," Joaquín spun to look at you fully. querida = darling

"I brought you food," you set the plate down on the empty spot of his desk.

"Thank you," Joaquín gently grabbed your hand to pull you into a hug.

"Hm," you hummed, content in his arms.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"There, done," you told Kelly as you settled back onto the couch and unpaused the movie. You saw Kelly look towards the stairs ever few minutes and proceed to gasp lightly when Joaquín walked down.

"Hey, mi corazón," Joaquín greeted you as he walked behind the couch to the kitchen. You heard Isabella gasp but thought nothing of it. mi corazón = my heart

"Your roommate is hot," Kelly whispered and you just looked at her. "Is he single?"

"I don't think he wants to be," Isabella cut into your conversation before you had time to answer Kelly. They shared a look and seemed to understand that Isabella would tell Kelly later.

"Will you come tell me goodnight after they leave and before you go to bed?" Joaquín asked in your ear as he passed and you nodded.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Joaquín," you pushed the door open and found Joaquín lounging in bed playing Minecraft off his Playstation. You were freshly showered, your hair wet and soaking the shoulders and back of your shirt and your feet in a pair of fluffy socks Joaquín got you for Christmas. "I'm headed to-" you stopped your sentence when you saw what world Joaquín was on. "Hey! You said you wouldn't build without me!" You complained and Joaquín held up the second controller.

"Forgive me?" Joaquín gave you his puppy dog eyes and you relented.

"Always," you jumped into his bed and pressed your side to his, waiting for him to connect your controller to the account he made for you.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín had you laid out on his bed, your shorts and panties were discarded a while ago. Your shirt crumpled under Joaquín's knees for padding as he ate you out.

"Joaquín," you moaned as you came, your voice broken and raw. Joaquín had pulled two orgasams from you, but his teasing knew no end in the beginning. You watched as he rose from his kneeling position and undid his belt and pants, his fingers hooked into the band of both his pants and boxers. You sat up to help him, your hands reaching to move his away.

Your alarm ripped you from your dream and you groaned in annoyance. It would be that kind of day, your panties were soaked and you were now wound up. You didn't have time to fix your situation and that just made you more annoyed.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín watched as you stormed into the house and aggressively toed your shoes off. You grumbled to yourself as you progressively stripped off your scrubs as you made your way to your room. Joaquín waited until he heard your bathroom door shut before venturing into your room to collect the rest of your clothes for the washer.

"Joaquín!" You called for him after stepping into your shower and throwing a shower curtain over the glass door so he couldn't see you.

"Yes, espléndida?" Joaquín walked into your bathroom, bringing your desk chair in to sit on.

"Can I just rant to you?" Your voice indicated that you were leaning down to grab a handful of shampoo.

"Always," he told you and you started just almost immediately.

"Thank you," you breathed out first. "It started out fine, or at least as fine as it can be in a hospital. The patients that are currently staying in the hospital for one reason or another were nice today, sure they're almost never happy to be there but they weren't yelling at us. Then I got called to help where I could in the ER during the last hour of my shift, and that's where it went to shit. This man came in yelling about where his son was and one of the nurses was trying to help him; however, it turns out that it was his daughter that has transitioned. Down to her name on all her legal documents and I told him that she is his daughter! He refused to call her by her name and since she's an adult, she can refuse to see him. Which she did and since I was her assigned doctor, I had to tell him! And he started yelling at me, calling he all kinds of names," you huffed and stopped talking for a minute, by the way you took a deep breath let Joaquín know that you were washing your face.

Joaquín took the moment of silence to calm himself, he was fuming just from you telling him about the man. Joaquín couldn't stop himself from telling you his thoughts about the situation. "How dare he call himself a father! And then proceed to yell at you," Joaquín tried to hide his anger but you heard it.

"I know! Ellie, that's his daughter's name, deserves a better father! She's only 18, Joaquín! 18 and her mother died only last year, and she's stuck with him!" You ranted some more, moving on to your body wash. "I told her that I would see her tomorrow and I will. If I see him again, I'll probably yell at him," you sighed as you finished washing the soap off your body and shut the water off. It was Joaquín's cue to get up and leave the bathroom, he waited on the edge of your bed as you dried off and walked out in your towel. You walked past Joaquín, the smell of your body wash wafting over him. He trailed your movements with his eyes as you stopped in front of your dresser and slipped on panties and a matching bralette on while shielding yourself with your towel.

You glanced down at what you were wearing and decided that it was no worse than your swimsuit. You put your towel away and missed the way Joaquín's eyes traced every part of you, from the swell of your ass to the slope of your breasts, it was downright sinful. Sure, you were showing no more than you did when you, Sam, and Joaquín went to the beach in Delacroix, but it felt more intimate. Between him sitting in the bathroom, listening to you talk about your day, to you just simply walking around so vulnerable around him has him thinking about a soft domestic life with you.

"...and then when I left he was sitting outside waiting for me so he could yell at me some more," Joaquín caught the tail end of your sentence and he realized he had really been zoned out. "Anyway, how was your day?" You fell down on your bed, now in an oversized shirt, forgoing shorts or pants.

"Fine," Joaquín said as he turned to face you, reaching out to rub our calfs. Both to help any pain you might have and to keep himself from touching you somewhere less platonic. "Sam and I just sat in the office all day doing paperwork," Joaquín told you, shifting when you let out a soft moan. One you thought you had successfully stifled by shoving your face into your pillow.

"Hm, sounds boring," you struggled to say as Joaquín focused on a knot in your leg.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"There you are!" The man from yesterday yelled as you walked of the building on your lunch break. You just wanted air but he was there ready to yell. "You-" he was cut off by Joaquín walking up.

"Angel, there you are!" Joaquín purposefully pushed the guy away from you and pulled you into a hug. "Just go with it," he whispered in your ear.

"Hey, love, what are you doing here?" You questioned, going along with whatever Joaquín was doing without question.

"I came to visit you for lunch," Joaquín pulled away and kept using his body to shield you from the man. "It's in my car actually," Joaquín told you and wrapped his arm around your waist to bring you with him.

"Thank you," you leaned your head against Joaquín as you two walked.

"I almost yelled at him," Joaquín admitted and you smiled up at him as you reached the car.

"Would have been hot," you said it before thinking but laughed as soon as it left your lips, trying to play it off as a joke.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Hey, Ellie," you walked into the barely an adult's room. "Wanna meet Falcon?" You questioned as you went to check everything you needed to.

"Wait, seriously?" Ellie sat up a bit and you nodded.

"Mhm," your hum was enough to get Joaquín to walk into the room. Ellie and him got into a conversation and you smiled at them both before leaving.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín ended up staying the whole day with Ellie, you had to kick him out two hours before your shift ended because he did end up yelling at Ellie's father.

"Joaquín Torres, you almost got the police called on you," you said as you walked into the house.

"What would have the police done to me, you know, Falcon?" Joaquín asked and you huffed a laugh.

"I would say arrest you but I think you could have charmed your way out of it," you mused, sitting down on the couch. You kicked your legs up on his lap and he handed you a cup from the side table. You smiled and blew him a kiss when you realized what it was.

"Think so?" He winked at you and you let out a louder laugh.

"Mhm," you hummed as you pulled your cup back to your lips. Joaquín watched as you took a sip and licked your lips for the remaining liquid.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Mi corazón, can you come here?" Joaquín questioned, girls night was happening in the house again.

"Yeah," you called up the stairs, you walked up and found Joaquín standing in his doorway.

"If I look in your room, will I find my missing air force hoodie?" Joaquín leaned against the doorframe and you thought about how sinful he looked. Shirtless with his grey sweats and damp hair with his hair and tousled from him towel drying it.

"I, uh, no?" It came out a lot more unsure than you wanted but you were ovulating and he looked so good.

"That sounded like a question," Joaquín raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, you won't find it in there," you managed to tell him. "It's probably in my office," you pointed to the door of the bedroom you two had converted into an office for you.

"Your office huh?" Joaquín walked to the door and pushed it open, he pointedly made sure to not look at any of the files you had out and grabbed the hoodie off your chair.

"Need anything else?" You licked your lips and you saw the smirk on Joaquín's face.

"Nothing else, baby," he told you with an extra rasp and deepness to his voice. You just dumbly nodded before padding back down the stairs.

"Oh, he's in love," Jennie teased you and you just stared at her.

"Fuck, I'm ovulating and he's shirtless," you mumbled and the girls howled in laughter.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"You know he calls you 'my heart' a lot, right?" Isabella questioned, she was laid out on the couch, her head resting against your thigh. You were leaning against the arm of the couch with your legs off to the side and bent.

"Does he?" You looked down at her and pushed your fingers into her hair, running your nails against her scalp.

"Girl, what do you think mi corazón means?" Isabella looked into your eyes.

"Uh, I've never really thought about it. He's been calling me that since high school, along with everything else," you admitted and you watched her, Jennie, and Kelly all sit up.

"What?" The three shouted in unison.

"Everything ok?" Joaquín shouted from the top of the stairs.

"Yeah, everything's fine!" You called back, shooting the girls a glare. "Would you guys keep it down?" You hissed light heartedly.

"Girl, he's in love with you!" Isabella light heartedly sneered back.

"No way," you denied.

"Ask him when we leave, I bet you 20 dollars that he is," Isabella held her hand towards you and you took it.

"She's gonna chicken out," Kelly mused and you couldn't argue with her, she was right.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You did chicken out, you instead said your good night to Joaquín and went about your business. It was later in the night that you saw Joaquín again, you were rooting around in between the couch cushions looking for your lost phone. You didn't even realize it was missing until a few minutes ago, you were too busy showering and trying to not to have ovulation induced thoughts about Joaquín.

"You ok?" Joaquín's voice startled you.

"Yeah, just looking for my phone," you mumbled, trying, and failing, to not look at his abs.

"This one?" Joaquín pulled your phone from his sweatpants pocket.

"Yeah, why do you have it?" You walked to him to grab it but he lifted his hand up and away from your grab.

"You left it in my room when you came by earlier," he told you. "Gonna nicely ask for it back? Or do I have to make you?" You weren't fully convinced that this wasn't a dream.

"Joaquín, will you please give me what I want?" You fluttered your lashes at him, purposefully leaving it vague. Whether this was a dream or not, you would try everything to get what you wanted.

"Which is?" Joaquín lowered his head slightly, his lips just barely brushing yours. You tried to get closer but he pulled away a little as you moved. "Gotta use your words, baby," Joaquín gently tossed your phone to the overstuffed chair to his right.

"Joaquín Torres, will you just kiss me?" Joaquín surged forward and captured your lips with his. He pulled your hips flush to his and you tried to follow his lips as he pulled away.

"I love you," he mumbled. "I have since junior year," he admitted.

"Senior year, in the car on the way to church after you promposed to me. I've loved you since then," you told him.

"All that time, all that time and I could have been with you?" Joaquín mumbled against your lips.

"I guess we have time to make up for, huh?" You pressed closer, leaving no space between you two.

"Yeah, I guess we do," he said before his lips were back on yours.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

[ssentimentals]

Hi, are you only take requests from the prompt? I’m gonna leave my request and if you want to write it I’ll be really happy…🙏🏼

So the reader is also a singer but her brother is one of the f1 drivers can be Sainz or Leclerc, and she is dating (can be S.Coups, Joshua or Wonu) and they meet for the first time at the GP and get along really well .

Thanks 🤍🤍🤍

oh my god. my dear anonie. i have no hope left that you are still here, but in case you are - i am so, so sorry for catching up so late with this wonderful message. i was focused on prompts and my inbox was floored. but i got to it now and i am hoping that you'll like it!! sorry again :((

seungcheol + singer!reader (carlos sainz's sister)

seungcheol had many nerve-wracking moments in his life. his first ever performance, first tour abroad, performance on international festival, performance in front of a president for god's sake. but nothing really made him as nervous as he is now, entering the race venue. for all his bravado on being the fearless leader, seungcheol feels fear gripping his heart at the thought of meeting your brother. he tries to tell himself that it's all good - it's not like cheol has anything to hide and it's not like your brother is some kind of-

'is that carlos? oh my god, it is! carlos! carlos, carlos sainz!'

right. no biggie. seungcheol follows the direction of running and screaming girls and instantly clocks familiar red posters and dozens people with cameras around. he pauses and pulls his cap even lower, taking a deep breath. you can do this, he pep talks himself, slowly coming closer. so what that he's a famous f1 driver? so what that he looks like one punch from him will send me flying to the next wall? it's all good, all good. seungcheol notices you too when he comes as close as fans allow him to; you're standing not far from your brother, looking beautiful in red ferrari merch, smiling happily at the sight of people swooning over carlos. seungcheol lets himself enjoy these few moments of just looking at you without you noticing, just taking you in. he saw thousand photos of you from your concerts and red carpets, even more from your ads and magazines, but nothing beats just looking at you up close. your beauty never fails to amaze him; he still has no idea how he managed to make you his. sometimes it all does feel like fever induced dream from his part.

'sorry, excuse me,' seungcheol makes his way through the fangirls and photographers, waving a little when you notice him. your face lights up at the sight of him and his heart skips a beat - how did he get so lucky? waving him over, you giggle loudly when he hugs you tight. 'hello, gorgeous.'

'you made it!' you squeal, hugging him even tighter before pulling back. 'you weren't replying, i thought maybe something else came up.'

'sorry babe, just wanted to surprise you.' seungcheol is relieved that for once cameras are not pointing at you two; he confidently wraps his arm around your waist. 'everything's okay?'

you nod, smiling. 'i'm so excited! it's been a while since i came to the race.' your eyes drift to your brother's tall figure before looking back at your boyfriend. 'are you ready to meet my brother?'

seungcheol hopes his smile is convincing. 'of course i am. i'd love to.'

you see through his acting and squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. 'you have nothing to worry about, cheollie. he's amazing and he already knows so much about you!'

seungcheol gulps. he knows exactly what? does he know that he made you cry one month agoo during your fight? does he know that he gets weirdly possessive over you? does he know this or does he also know that seungcheol makes sure you have a bouquet waiting for you in every single hotel you stay whenever you're touring or that since you came into his life he never had eyes for anyone else? what exactly does carlos sainz know?

'come meet cheollie, carlos!' you wave at your brother, who walks over to your side, eyes trained on seungcheol.

seungcheol does not tremble. he does not shiver. he's a world class performer and he puts on his best smile and shakes carlos's hand with what he hopes is an adequate amount of strength. carlos's raised eyebrow tells him that he fucked up that one. 'nice to finally meet you,' carlos says, voice rather friendly even if his face remains impassive.

'likewise,' seungcheol says and tries to come up with something else, hating his own short answer: 'uh- happy to be here! on the race, i mean. good luck today, beat everyone.'

carlos tilts his head and chuckles. 'it's just a free practice today, race is on sunday.'

next to him, you snicker and seungcheol feels how tip of his ears burn in shame. god, what a way to go. right when he's scrambling for words to say, carlos saves him with a friendly pat on the shoulder: 'it's okay. you know nothing about racing, right?'

'i'll teach him everything!' you volunteer, snuggling closer to his side. seungcheol is thankful for your support and he's also happy that carlos doesn't point out anything about your pda. 'by sunday he'll be your main fan, carlito.'

'i already am!' seungcheol rushes to say. 'a fan, big fan, i mean.'

carlos is nice enough to let his awkwardness slide. his eyes linger on the way seungcheol's arm is wrapped around his sister's waist, but he says nothing. 'let's go to the paddock, you'll meet my team.'

seungcheol has a running suspicion that he fucked everything up, but the way you glow happily makes him think otherwise. he leans in, kissing your cheek and smiling at the way you lean more towards him; it feels so good to be able to do this without worrying. 'are you happy?' seungcheol asks, not being to look away from your shining face.

'i am,' you confirm, turning to him. 'you are here, my brother is here, it's a race weekend! everything is great.' you reach out, caressing his cheek. 'he likes you. i can tell, don't worry.'

'i am making a fool of myself in front of him,' seungcheol whispers, very close to whining. 'tell him that i am not like that usually.'

'i know how you are usually,' carlos suddenly says, turning to him with a wide smile. 'she tells me everything. always gushes about you.' carlos pauses, letting them catch up with him. he jokingly slaps seungcheol's shoulder. 'you're putting that bar very high, my friend.'

seungcheol rarely blushes but he is sure that his face is all red now. it feels undeserving to have carlos praise him like this, for some reason.

'he makes me happy!' you proclaim, making seungcheol's heart squeeze in his chest.

carlos's gaze softens and he reaches out, gently ruffling your hair. 'i know he does, bebe. it's good.' he then turns to seungcheol: 'you better keep it that way.'

seungcheol clears his throat. 'planning on it.'

carlos nods, satisfied. 'good. now let's go and turn you into tifosi.'

a/n: what a crossover this is :D hopefully you liked it, let me know! - nini

find more seventeen works HERE

find more formula 1 works HERE

[mediumgayitalian]

What are some of your Will headcanons?

Any angsty ones?

hair style:

will's hair has a Mind Of Its Own. it is impossible. brushing it? keep dreaming. styling it? dude just give up

he can, however, wrangle it into two french braid pigtails. those are fun.

in the august after the giant war, the aphrodite cabin take it upon themselves to 'style' nico, including giving him these little elastics with a skull charm (like this but with skulls), but he doesn't like tying his hair back very much (too tight) so he gives them to will as a joke.

will LOVES them.

he literally wears them almost every day. the next time they go out on a supply run, nico sees these little elastic charms and buys them for will. he can't summon the courage to give them to him face to face but he leaves them on his bed. will adores them, too, and it starts something of a tradition of people giving will charm elastics as a small thank-you.

he has a collection of them and wears them whenever he wears his hair in braids.

his favourites are the skull charms, though.

artistic ability:

will really doesn't have many musical talents. he's hard of hearing and while hephaestus-made hearing aids definitely work better than mortal ones, it's not really something that can be cured, so he has a lot of trouble staying on key/making music himself.

however! apollo is the god of poetry and art in general -- that is more than just visual!!

will is a really good writer, poetry especially. he's very articulate and verbose and writes with startling clarity. he's written a lot of songs and a lot of poems, although he hasn't shown anybody in years.

he used to share them with his older brothers and sisters and sibling, but...well. obviously that's no longer an option.

he's never stopped writing, though. he may keep it to himself, but it's kind of an open secret. he's scribbling in his notebooks all the time -- it's impossible not to notice.

his friends and siblings, however, are the only ones who know that he writes creatively. they've peeked over his shoulder here and there (and also kayla is a huge huge snoop, like, badly, and austin is easily convinced to be complacent in her crimes), and sometimes he says things that are just kind of poetic.

no one else knows, though. he's deliberately obnoxious about it -- every once in a while, at campfire open mics, he'll clear his throat loudly and grin as people groan and recite something so bad apollo might have written it. most people think will's quite bad at writing, actually.

another thing he's really good at is drama, which is a surprise to absolutely no one. although beyond his regular histrionics, chiron had shakespeare as part of his curriculum, and will could play puck like nobody's business. he recited a mercutio so good once lee actually cried with laughter (so did everyone else). on a hauntingly beautiful february in 2004, he played ophelia by the creek so beautifully that it was silent for a good four minutes after he finished.

there are very, very few people at camp who remember that. will hasn't recited anything in a while.

an unexpected bonus of his medical knowledge, actually, is a really good understanding of depth, space, and anatomy.

he's a surprisingly good artist.

it started pretty normal -- he was having trouble articulating a question to michael one time, and in a fit of frustration drew a diagram to try and explain himself. it was really good, even as rushed as it was, so michael used to give him 'homework' that was hand-drawing posters of various body systems to hang in the infirmary.

it was kind of spooky how will could do it without looking it up. just close his eyes and start sketching an accurate nervous system. cool though.

his older sister, cass, encouraged him to branch out of anatomy diagrams and create whatever he liked. she made the unfortunate mistake of giving him several cans of paint and free reigns on blank infirmary walls (they're freaky and boring) to a nerdy eight-year-old -- that's why r2d2 and c3po are chilling on the wall by the mortal medicine cabinet.

he doesn't paint a lot now, 'cause he doesn't have the damn time, but when rachel finds out who painted the infirmary walls she hounds him until he takes a morning to paint with her. they have a lot of fun. they end up with more paint on each other and their clothes than their canvases, predictably.

siblings:

when will was a kid, he had twelve older siblings.

apollo tends to have kids in brackets. he is, as everyone knows, a hoe, so he'll be busy on olympus or with artemis and go a while without having any kids, and then he'll be on earth for like three years and have a litter. so a lot of his kids end up the same age.

before the war, in the same cabin, there was: cass, the oldest, 18, somewhat year-long; diana, 18, year-long; lee, 16, somewhat year-long; michael, 16, somewhat year-long; gabriel, 15, summer-only; leanna, 15, summer-only; mercury, 15, summer-only; kate & phoebe, 14, summer-only; laurel, 13, summer-only; amir, 13, summer-only; melody, 12, summer-only; and will, 8, year-long (for now).

their abilites were pretty vast and well-rounded, and they came from all over the continent.

there was a time when the infirmary wasn't understaffed at all.

will doesn't like to think about it.

style:

on their birthdays, apollo leaves them all a gift on their bunks (or their beds at home, if their birthdays aren't in the summer).

each of them gets a piece of blessed gold jewelry when they're ten. will got a pair of threader earrings with thin blue sapphires that he loves. he can't wear them often because they're a genuine hazard in the infirmary (yes, more than flip-flops) and he doesn't want them ruined. but he wears them on the rare days he has off.

he actually has quite a lot of jewelry! because he is a sappy nerd, he has two watches: a hephaestus-made one, totally waterproof, weatherproof, and monsterproof, because it helps quell the anxiety when so many people are counting on him (he has to know when people will be better and how long he can be away from his patients, also used to tell people to fuck off when he's on break lol); and his mother's much nicer watch that she gave to him when she dropped him off at camp for the first time -- it's not changed for the time zone. he knows what time it is for her, and it makes him feel better about being so far away from her.

he wears both watches on the same wrist, ala chad danforth.

he has a third watch. it was lee's. it's got r2d2 on the face. will got it for him with his own money when he was nine years old, for his birthday. it lives in a box under his bunk. it's cracked and broken and never tells the right time except on 1:52 p.m. on june 30th, although the year gets farther and farther off every time will checks it.

contrary to popular belief, will does not actually wear the same pair of cargo shorts every day.

...because he has seven pairs of the same shorts.

he does have other shorts through. namely swim trunks and a pair of tighter shorts he wears specifically to kick ass in volleyball. he didn't try for this or anything, he got the shorts at the thrift store, but he's pretty sure they might be designer. he gets a lot of compliments from the aphrodite cabin when he wears them.

he also has a collection of nerdy t-shirts (his anakin sand-rant t-shirt is worn to threads), novelty pajama pants, hoodies, and flannel.

he has more than one tattoo. he has several, actually; constellations, lines from freckle to freckle so faint you can barely see them: the seer, the drummer, the archer, the tiny lion, the archangel, the maiden, the lyre, the twins, the boat stern, the hearth, and the singer.

just plain will:

he's slightly red-green colourblind.

when he gets mad, his cheeks puff up and he gets all red in the face before erupting. his older siblings used to call him tinkerbell.

he gets teased for being so dramatic that he was named for the most dramatic apollo kid who ever lived -- shakespeare. but his actual, legal name is just plain will solace. when pregnant, his mom used to mutter 'it's you, me, and sheer fucking force of will, baby' to herself a lot, as a kind of mantra, and then will was born and she thought it would be kind of funny to name him will (she was right). lee invented william andrew solace so he'd have something to yell when will got in trouble lol.

he has the climbing wall record. this is because he climbs a lot of trees. he has no explanation and no one is going to stop him.

when he was a kid, and the whole mythology thing was explained to him, he misnderstood michael's explanation of food sacrifice as one to be done to all theoi/mythical beings. he worked his way to praying through the entire pantheon, a horde of minor gods, hestia, chiron, argus, and half the nymphs before someone caught wind and explained to him properly. it is the main reason all the nymphs and dryads are so endeared by him. he used to go around asking their names and very seriously writing it down in his little notebook to pray to them properly.

he carries around notebooks constantly. at first, diana gave them to him because he was driving everyone bonkers with his endless questions and she needed Five Minutes, Will, Gods, Please of silence, but he really took to it and wrote everything in there. he keeps them all as a sort of diary. kayla reads them any time he has his back turned.

it is really, really hard for him to talk about his siblings. but he knows kayla and austin feel kind of left out and hurt about it, since they didn't get the chance to know them like will did (the kids never met them), so sometimes, late at night, he calls them softly over to his bunk and they curl up, one under each arm, and he tells them stories until his voice goes hoarse and they're long asleep.

[thesevenwondersofawitch]

Spoilers for the season 3 premiere of Wot

Holy shit the rain oh my god Siuan is so beautiful

The yearning in Moiraine's eyes🥺😭

Ohhhhhh Liandrin is in trouble 👀👀👀

Oh I'm freaking oyt

You can practically feel the tension oh my God

Holy shit Siuan is being called out holy shit

Oh I'm screaming

SIUAN SHIT YOU'RE IN TROUBLE NOW HOLY HELL

Oooooooooooo Siuan outed Liandrin as a dark friend 👀👀

Oh if it is in the consequences of her own actions

Aw, the way Liandrin can't even look Nyeneve in the eye because she knows what she did

I kind of love how she was just like eh, I tried

Holy shit there are so many dark friends 👀👀

Alanna's boys immediately being like don't worry babe we're coming

Holy shit! Siuan really hit Liandrin hard lol

Siuan has fallen omg!!!

My poor babe oh no, no they're black Ajah

Oh shit things are really going to hell

No the good Ajah have been hit noooooo

Siuan my poor babe🥺

Nooooooooooo Verin's sister doesn't know who she is😭😭😭

Why do the dark friends kind of look like the poster for like a rock/indie/folk band 😂

Ouchie (Liandrin getting stabbed)

NOOOOOO SIUAN!

Oh Alanna I adore you🥰

NOOOOOOOOO IHVON😭😭😭😭

Moiraine's always out here stating the obvious and I love her for it

Oh no Siuan 🥺

Oh my God Siuan's wifey shielded her 😭😭😭

The way Moiraine's face shows so much and then she strides away and Siuan moves to follow her before stopping herself 😭😭😭😭

Oh my God, all the warders are dead🥺

Damn they left my girl Nyeneve to die 😭😂

"Why does she always want to leave at dawn?" Me

Awwwwwww they're going to Tear 🥺 the place of Siuan's birth

The way that Aviendha's fellow warriors are watching her interact with Rand, they can tell there's something there lol

It's the classic enemies to lovers

Aw girl talk with the trauma bonded three🥺

Nooooooooooo 🥺 the way Egwane has PTSD my poor girl🥺🥺

Matt you are really the worst at staying undetected 😂😭

Oh Mat, Rand has done wayyyyyy more then kiss another girl, he did the do with a Forsaken 😂

Oh dear, he isn't lying but he's also not telling the whole truth 👀

Oh who is sheeee? (I thought it was Moiraine, but now I'm thinking it's Lanfear)

Ooof, poor Verin is beating herself up 😭😭😭

Mat it's me coming in to a conversation not realizing the vibe has changed LOL

OH SHIT IT IS LANDFEAR

Oooooooooooo Lanfear and Moiraine may have common ground 👀

Oh damn Moiraine seems a bit surprised that Lanfear thinks she will hurt the others in order to get to

The way Moiraine stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of the two guards outside their place 👀

Siuan is discussing stuff 👀

Oooooooooooooooo👀 the way Egwane just flat out said she won't go back is a vibe and so much growth in her character

The way Moiraine is eavesdropping👀😂 (completely Fair considering everything)

I'm low-key obsessed with Siuan's dress in this next scene👀

Aw, Nyeneve is still haunted by what she saw in the arches, and the way Lan immediately knows that he was part of what she saw 😭😭😭😭

Well now I ship Elayne and Aviendha

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh👀 so this is the scene we'd gotten stills from👀 with them all decked out in fancy armor

Ha, Rand asking questions like a child is a mood

Damn, Moiraine really just got straight to the point, telling Rand he can never go home

Ha, Egwane flat out telling Siuan that she's unaccepted now so she's going to Just bounce lol

Siuan's bafflement 😂 like Egwane did say she'd go back to the tower today if she was made an accepted, which she did do she didn't say she would stay lol

Awwww the way Moiraine is looking long angry at the tower where her wife is 🥺🥺

"To seeing double and staying single"😂 Mat is a vibe lol

Mat you should listen to Perrin

Oh I ship Aviendha and Elayne so fucking hard

Oh my God I am screaming!!!!!! Get it!!!

Ok I can't be the only one who doesn't ship Rand and Egwane? Like no thank you

Awwwwwwwwwwwww🥺 the way Moiraine is fighting with herself looking at the tower 🥺🥺🥺 she misses her wife 🥺

Aw, Nynaeve trying to help Mat🥺

Wait, Lan glaring back at Moiraine who shakes her head? Moiraine has been messing with them to get them to split up from Rand

Aw, the way Lan immediately ran to Nynaeve when she called for him🥺

OH NO HE STABBED HER

Oh good Moiraine was able to heal them

Nooooooooooo they were working with Lanfear😭😭😭

Yeah, it went very far lol

Aw, Egwane saying she won't go anywhere 😭

But also I still don't ship them lol

Nynaeve apologizing to Lan when he secretly knows the whole attack was partially his fault🥺

Aw they're holding hands

OH MY GOD HE GAVE HER A RING FROM HIS MAMA

He wants Nynaeve as his queen 😭😭😭😭😭

Oooooooooooo the subtle hand holding between Elayne and Aviendha🥺😭🥰

Mat about to say the white tower resembles a dick is fabulous 😂

Oooooooooooo 👀 Mat going against Moiraine to go to the Aiel waste

Who's the dude that's suspended by webs? Who is Jaichim?👀👀

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Man, Myth, Legend

You waited and waited and waited some more until Jethro’s voicemail began playing.

“He thinks he’s so clever,” you grumbled to yourself as you sent him a text. Not like he would respond back but at least your two cents was thrown in there.

It was bad enough he made you stay behind with Tony instead of joining him, Ziva and McGee to his HOMETOWN. But now he wants to ignore your calls too? Granted, the calls would have only been you pestering him with all kinds of questions but nevertheless, he should still pick up the phone. What if you were in danger?!

“C’mon Probie. Let’s see if Abby has anything for us,” DiNozzo stated while walking by.

You locked your phone and huffed in annoyance before joining him in the elevator.

“You can stop calling me that Tony. I’ve been working with you guys for like a year now.”

“I know. But I just love how much it bugs you.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing and followed after him once the doors opened.

Abby gave you two the rundown on the blood analysis before McGee’s face popped up on her screen.

“Gibbs has a father!”

You ran over with Tony while they gave all of you the much needed info on the Gibbses. Jethro had told you he grew up in Stillwater and wasn’t exactly the towns poster child but he never really spoke more than that, let alone about his father.

“I’m coming. I’m leaving,” Tony stuttered.

“Well you’re not going without me,” you added.

“Not unless you’ve found a way that people in town might have thought Ethan LaCombe was alive,” McGee answered right back.”

————

You and Tony sat in the Bullpen, throwing different questions each others way as you wanted for your next orders.

“So do you think he like got ran out of town and that’s why he hasn’t been back?” Tony asked, tapping a pen against his mouth in thought.

“I don’t know but I wouldn’t put it past him if it were true. Do you think his high school girlfriends still live there?”

Tony gave you a puzzled look which you quickly defended.

“I mean I’m just curious since most small town people don’t really move out past their county.”

“I doubt he’s dinner dating with any of his past flings probie. Plus, how is it you don’t know anything about Gibb’s past but you two are together?”

“You know he doesn’t talk much. Especially about his past. It was like pulling teeth when I asked him where he was born!”

As if his ears were burning, your phone began ringing as Jethro’s face popped up on your screen. Making a face for Tony to be quiet, you answered.

“Oh, look at that, you know how to call people all of a sudden.”

“I was busy. Talking with people,” he justified.

“People like your dad? Or the townspeople? McGee said you’re already ruffling feathers.”

“Well McGee needs to stop gossiping. I talked with Chad Winslow and his family. They’re hiding something. I want you and DiNozzo to get a search warrant together for blood samples and financial records.”

“Uh. A please would be nice.”

“Please. Honey,” he charmed, making you smile like a school girl. You’d do anything for him if he added those words afterwards.

“Much better. I’m assuming you won’t be home tonight?”

“No. We’ve got a lot of work to do here and I don’t see anyone being cooperative any time soon.”

You silently pouted but Jethro knew you like the back of his hand.

“Don’t pout. You, Abby and DiNozzo can come tomorrow afternoon. We’ll need help executing those warrants once they’re approved and Abby will need to examine the blood quickly.”

You beamed with excitement, catching Tony’s attention. You both said your goodbyes and Tony came over to give you a high five.

“I’m driving though. You suck at obeying the speed limit,” he established.

“That doesn’t count! Baskin Robbin’s was closing in 10 minutes and you encouraged me!”

————

We pulled up to the scene of the crime as smoke was still slowly coming from the wreckage. Thank God no one was in the car when it exploded. Jethro hasn’t even been in town more than 2 days and people are already trying to blow him up!

You gave McGee and Ziva a greeting before following Tony in the little store. It was stuffy and warm but the place was cute with all the natural lighting and small town vibes.

You and Tony saw an older man standing behind the register whom you could only assume was Jethro’s dad based on the eyes.

Just as Tony went to introduce himself, Jethro came from the back and interrupted. As they both talked, you made your way over to the counter.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“Jackson Gibbs. Leroy told me about you but he left out just how stunning you were,” he flirted as you two shook hands.

“I see where Jethro gets his charm from.” you two chuckled together before Jethro came over looking displeased.

We took the rental to Jackson’s house as he led us to the garage where the most beautiful Dodge Charger sat.

“That’s right. I said we.”

You hopped in the backseat as Jethro peeled out onto the street like a bat out of hell, passing the shocked faces of the team and sporting the biggest grin on his face.

At the Winslow house, Jethro advised you to stay behind with Senior.

“Fine by me. Someone’s got to tell me what the great Leroy Jethro Gibbs was like as a kid,” you jested as he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

You sat on the porch steps with Jackson as he started the conversation first.

“I’m glad Leroy found someone again. You know after Shannon and Kelly, I thought he’d never find love again. But you seem to make him happy.”

“I try. And he makes me happy. It hasn’t been years but I think we’re good for each other.”

“I just don’t understand how you two even came about. Someone like you, so beautiful and elegant should be dating someone similar. Like that DiNozzo guy.”

You laughed at the thought of you and Tony together.

“Jethro is much more sensitive and approachable than people think. And Tony? No, he’s far too..rockstar for me. Jethro just has that personality that grounds you and uplifts you at the same time. I’ve never felt it with anyone before.”

“Spoken like someone truly in love,” he stated with a smile.

You blushed at the thought and you two continued talking until it was time to leave.

Back at the store, McGee and Abby went over their findings as you stood next to Jethro, your hand brushing against his. You saw a small smirk appear on his face as he listened.

It wasn’t long before you guys had enough evidence to arrest Nick Kingston and his 2 accomplices and telling the awkward news of Ethan being Emily’s brother. You all stayed the night at Jackson’s place as he told you all stories of his great adventures before leaving the next morning.

“You’ve got a good one here Leroy. Don’t let her go,” Jackson praised to his son as he looked at you.

“Oh I don’t plan on it.”

You gave Jackson a farewell hug as he gave the Charger keys to Jethro and stuck your tongue out at Tony when you were the chosen passenger.

In the car, you pulled him in for a kiss and smiled. “I like your dad. We should come see him again soon.”

Jethro just shook his head and smiled before driving off.

[vironarro]

Thoughts on How Signalis and Detroit Become Human Tackle Similar Themes

Funnily enough, I think Signalis answers the philosophical questions Detroit Become Human failed to effectively address, through unconventional and cryptic, yet masterful storytelling. Signalis does so in under 15 hours, while DBH takes over 100 GB in my hard drive and 3 concurring plotlines. The two devs behind Signalis make you work to connect the dots and form your own interpretation (...which they claim all of your ideas are most likely canon, due to the nature of Bioresonance!). On the other hand, DBH TELLS the player of its vision, and of its meaning. In other words, David Cage's writing has the subtlety of a pie hitting your face. Both games discuss:

The whole moral debate of whether or not cognizant machines/replikas should be classified as human, and should they receive basic human rights. You could argue that Replikas in Signalis are essentially human, because they are neural network copies of existing humans.

The critique of an oppressive (fascist) system/state that only benefits from the suffering of both human and machine. 

The suffering of Replikas (and Gestalts) in the world of Signalis is painfully palpable. It doesn’t jump out at you at first, no, because you’re focused on finding your missing pilot. As you explore the derelict Sierpinski-23 though, you see the Nation’s propaganda posters, come across administrative files detailing the censorship of certain words due to it being “an obscenity to the state”, and learn about the poor fates of Gestalts who dare to try to break out of the Nation’s oppressive regime. You slowly come to realise that this minuscule space orbital station is where the Nation sends its undesirables to rot and perish. Both Gestalt and Replika, punished by its authoritative surveillance state for simply existing.

As your exploration of the graveyard space station comes to a close, you, or Elster rather, finds her way into the mines deep underground. You encounter a heavily injured MYNAH, who expresses her melancholy about the reality that she will be replaced, after she ceases to function.

“Don’t worry about repairing an old unit like me. There are many replacements. In the end, what’s one drop to an ocean? [...] Thank you for talking with me.”

In the next room, a dying STAR whispers consoling words to her loved one, an EULE, who can’t seem to hear beyond her sobs of anguish. They’re surrounded by lifeless Replika shells.

The character you play as, Elster, god knows which iteration by now (it has been over hundreds of years since the Penrose-512 started its mission), encounters her lifeless bodies throughout the game. Those who failed, those who were replaced. The original human she was based on, a Vinetan soldier, was scrubbed away of her existence in the Nation’s records. Classified documents referring to her units as ‘it’.

Don’t let it watch films or listen to music. Persona degradation will make it less effective. Decommission is due if it starts to degrade.

My point being, Signalis’ storytelling successfully managed to move me and convinced me of the characters’ suffering (due to the state) more than DBH ever did. I think it’s why I enjoyed Connor’s storyline more than the other two. Based on the ‘best ending’, Connor realises his personhood, teams up with Hank and defies Cyberlife. It feels… believable. Painfully human.

Kara & Markus’ stories had its powerful moments, of course, but I feel that they’re quite shallow. I honestly don’t know why I think so! Maybe they are unintentionally written more to be caricatures of a cause, instead of fleshed-out characters. It’s been a while since I played DBH, so I need to revisit that to strengthen my point.

More thoughts I wasn't able to fit in the... word salad? lol

Despite David Cage claiming that he is making movies instead of games, I strongly feel that Signalis is so much more cinematic than its counterpart. It wears its visual influences on its sleeves (Evangelion, Blame!, Böcklin, Ghost in Shell, ResEvil, and so forth.)

I love both games' UI design though. So beautiful.

If Mr. Cage didn't take himself so seriously (and if he was less of an asshole) I would be more lenient on DBH. It's ultimately a cis white guy trying to write about oppression.

DBH is a fun game! I enjoyed playing it. The story fell flat for me though.

[theres-a-tvjoe]

Nice Guys Throw Punches - SFK/DRW

Well, here’s the fluffiest, most protective!Danny that’s been stuck in my brain for days. Big thanks to @ofthecaravel for freaking out with me eeeeee here we go.

READ ON AO3

-

Wanted: Have You Seen This Man? He’s actually just a really nice guy.

That’s what Danny’s poster had said. And he is. He is a nice guy, has on more than one occasion been called a gentle giant (mostly by Josh), fills his role as band mediator with ease, and has always been a lover, not a fighter.

But, he supposes, exceptions are always made. Which is what got him to where he is now, sitting on the bumper of an ambulance next to the festival beer garden with a broken nose and split knuckles.

He swears he’s a nice guy.

One Hour Earlier

It’s not surprising that Lollapalooza is packed to the gills with drunk and high festival goers. It’s the nature of a festival to be a sprawling bacchanalian free for all, really. That’s why the Kiszka brothers thrive at festivals and why Danny always feels like he’s herding kittens trying to keep all three of them alive.

“Thanks,” Danny says, nodding to the bartender in the beer garden before wading his way back through the throngs of people, holding the two bottles of beer a little higher to avoid being jostled by someone telling an overenthusiastic story.

They’d played earlier in the day, a riotous set that went off without a hitch and left them all in a post-show euphoria that was only briefly interrupted by showers and changing clothes before continuing on now.

“Beer delivery,” Danny chirps, sidling up behind Sam and moving his boyfriend’s chestnut hair to one side of his neck. Sam is mid conversation with Jake and Josh, the three of them talking completely over each other. Danny presses the cold beer to the sensitive skin of Sam’s neck, grinning.

Sam squawks loudly, immediately turning and swatting at him.

“Asshole,” he half shouts, trying in vain to pinch at Danny’s sides while the taller man evades his efforts. “That’s no way to treat the love of your life.”

Danny hastily apologises to the group of girls he bumps into trying to avoid Sam’s punishment, looping an arm around Sam’s waist and tugging him close, a beer still in each hand.

“I’m sorry,” he says, still grinning.

Sam makes a grab for Danny’s backwards hat, missing when Danny makes a bite at his arm. “You are not, you unrepentant frat boy -”

“Am too, and if I’m a frat boy that makes you -”

“Alright alright,” Josh says, clapping his hands. “Enough, children. Daniel, give the baby his beer before he gets cranky.”

Danny laughs, not letting Sam go but handing him the beer and pressing a kiss to his temple.

“I hate you,” Sam says, leaning into him.

Danny grins. “I know, baby. Drink your beer.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Jake rolls his eyes. He takes a pull of his own beer, shaking his head fondly.

It’s been over a year now since Sam and Danny had made it official - it being them, of course, and their decision to finally end everyone’s collective ‘will they, won’t they’ misery. Happy tears were shed by parents, hollers and hugs were given by siblings. But Sam had been deeply offended when literally no one was surprised by their announcement of a relationship, and had pinched Danny’s nipple right through his shirt as revenge when the taller man had shrugged and said ‘that’s fair, it was a long time coming’.

“It’s really packed in here,” Josh says, looking around them. More people are flooding into the beer garden, musicians and festival goers alike, and it’s making personal space significantly harder to come by.

They’ve melded with a group of other players, conversation flowing easily and laughter loud. Danny is regretting his choice of a white t-shirt, knowing that the chances of a spill are getting higher by the second but it’s worth it to watch Sam’s face light up as he tells a story.

As if on cue, Sam gestures broadly with his hand and accidentally catches the drink of a passerby, knocking it against their chest.

“Oh shit,” Sam says, turning. “Sorry man -”

The man hisses angrily as he peels his wet shirt away from his chest. He’s about Danny’s height but twice as broad, bald headed and skin going pink with anger. Danny frowns, not liking the way the man’s mood has shifted so quickly.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” he spits, throwing his now empty cup onto the ground and shaking the spilled beer off his hand. “Fucking - my shirt is ruined .”

The unexpected anger draws the attention of the twins and the rest of the group, eyes widening in surprise at the outburst.

Sam winces, obviously feeling bad. “It was an accident, man, I’ll buy you another drink -”

“Shut the fuck up,” the man snaps, finally looking up from his shirt to fix his angry stare at Sam.

“Listen, he said he was sorry,” Danny interjects, brow furrowed as he steps between Sam and the man, hands up between them. He wants to keep the peace, to get this asshole on his way as fast as possible, but something isn’t sitting right. His heart is beating faster now, the tension palpable. “It was an accident, it happens. We can find you another shirt.”

The man snorts, looking Sam up and down before turning to fix his gaze on Danny.

“You know, I saw you two earlier,” he says, sneering. “Looking awfully cozy. Maybe if you knew how to control your bitch this wouldn’t have happened.”

“What the fuck,” Jake says, automatically stepping closer to Sam. Josh circles a hand instinctively around Sam’s wrist, anchoring him to the spot.

“Hey, fuck you man -” Sam starts, brows dropping in anger as he moves to step forward only to be impeded by Josh.

“See?” the man laughs, the sound grating and mean. He pokes a finger into Danny’s chest. “Maybe I should take him off your hands, teach him some fucking manners -”

Danny isn’t sure when he drops his beer, but somewhere between the bottle leaving his hand and it hitting the ground, he makes a choice.

No one talks about Sam that way, not while Daniel fucking Wagner walks the earth.

He reels back and throws a hard punch, fist connecting solidly with the man’s face in a loud thud. The garden immediately erupts into chaos, people stumbling backwards from the fight to get away from the crossfire. Josh yanks Sam back as the man retaliates, grappling Danny to the ground as they both throw hit after hit.

A few others jump in to try to break it up, but it’s violent.

What feels like an hour is only a minute, maybe two before security is rushing in and pulling the two men apart. There’s blood in the dirt and Danny has never been so angry in his life.

“Let me go,” Danny demands, struggling against the hold of two security guards. The other man is yelling obscenities and slurs while being forcefully escorted from the tent, and Danny takes some satisfaction from the split lip he’s sporting. “I’m - Jesus, I’m not going to go after him, let me go.”

“I’ll get the medics,” one of them says, speaking quickly into the radio on his chest before striding out of the tent. The security guard lets Danny go, telling him not to go anywhere until the medic arrives.

The entire garden is a mess of activity and chatter, the energy thrumming with nerves and surprise. Danny’s ears are ringing and his heart is pounding out of his chest. The adrenaline is still thrumming at a million miles an hour through his veins, and he barely registers he’s being spoken to until there are gentle hands on either side of his face.

“Daniel,” Sam is saying, sweet face creased with worry. “Hey, look at me.”

“Medic is over here, come on,” Jake is saying, hand gentle on Danny’s upper arm. Josh is shooing people out of the way, already explaining everything that happened to the paramedic.

“Hey man,” says the medic, getting Danny’s attention. “My name is Noah. Looks like you got into a bit of a scrap, hey?”

Danny shakes his head, but immediately winces as pain shoots through his face.

“I’m fine,” he croaks, but the words come out a little slurred. Suddenly Danny is very aware of the blood in his mouth.

“Here, let’s sit him down,” Noah says, helping Jake seat Danny on the bumper of the ambulance, the back doors wide and a medical bag opened.

Sam is pacing back and forth, continually running his hands through his hair. Josh is off to the side, on the phone with management already while Jake confers with security again.

Noah makes Danny follow a pen with his eyes, checks his pulse, and listens to his heart. He carefully tips Danny’s head back, helping him hold an ice pack over his nose.

“Well I can tell you one thing,” he says good naturedly. “It’s a good thing you guys already played your set, because you’re going to be hurting once that adrenaline wears off.”

“Already there,” Danny says, the words coming out like he’s got the world's worst cold. Everything fucking hurts now. His knuckles are aching and his head feels like one giant bruise.

“Yeah,” Noah sighs sympathetically, jotting something down on his clipboard before pulling out a few butterfly bandages from his bag. “A broken nose is no fun. But it’s not crooked, so that’s a small victory.”

That seems to stir Sam from his pacing, nearly skidding to a stop in front of Danny.

“What the hell were you thinking, Daniel?!” he bursts, every inch of him seeming to vibrate with anxiety. “You’ve never made a fist in your fucking life and you decide that testing it out on a man twice your size is the way to go?”

Noah bites his lips together, giving Danny a ‘you’re in trouuuuuble’ look as he pulls the ice pack away gently.

“We were the same height,” Danny protests weakly, wincing as Noah carefully places a butterfly bandage over the split skin on the bridge of his nose.

“No, shut up,” Sam says, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Just - why, Daniel?”

Danny frowns, confused by the question.

“What do you mean, why?” he asks, dutifully holding still as Noah continues to work on cleaning him up.

Sam rolls his eyes, but he looks dangerously close to tears. Danny’s heart aches in his chest, and he wants to pull his boyfriend closer.

“I mean why,” Sam repeats. “Why did you start a fight?”

“He started it,” Danny protests, wincing as Noah cleans his knuckles. “I wasn’t just going to stand there and let him talk about you like that, Sam. I didn’t even - I didn’t even think about it, alright? I just did it.”

Sam seems to deflate a little at that, jaw working stubbornly.

“Well it was fucking stupid,” he says, scuffing at an errant pebble with the toe of his sneaker. “Now you look like a sad raccoon with your -” he gestures to Danny’s face. “Black eyes and shit.”

“Cute look,” Danny says, not bothering to fight the fierce wave of fondness welling inside of him for his boyfriend. Only Sam would manage to express fear and concern as a truly bizarre insult. “What a weird way to kick a guy while he’s down. How about a ‘thanks for sticking up for me, Danny’ or an ‘I love you, Danny’?”

“I love you Danny,” Josh says, pocketing his phone as he comes to join them. He swings an arm around Sam, pulling him in for a tight hug despite the younger man fighting it. “This little rat bastard of a child is just trying to pretend he’s not scared shitless because his boy got hurt, isn’t that right Sam?”

“I am not scared,” Sam says, shoving Josh away. Jake rolls his eyes, moving to sit next to Danny on the bumper of the ambulance. “I’m pissed off, he could’ve - he could have died! And then we’d have to get a new drummer, okay, and that’s just a pain in the ass -”

Noah gives Danny the all clear, and he stands. He has no doubt he looks like shit, shirt stained with blood, eyes blooming black and blue, knuckles and nose bandaged.

“Sammy,” Danny interrupts him gently. “C’mere.”

“No,” Sam snaps, crossing his arms and resolutely looking at the ground. “You’re gross. You’re all bloody.”

“Sam,” Danny repeats. He opens his arms, waiting patiently.

Sam doesn’t last another five seconds before he’s throwing himself into Danny’s arms, hiding his face in Danny’s neck.

“Why would you do that?” he whispers, and Danny can feel the tremble in Sam’s willowy frame. “You - you got hurt, Daniel, okay? Why -”

“Because I love you,” Danny murmurs, pressing his lips carefully to the top of Sam’s head. “And I figured one of us was about to throw a punch, so better me than you. That face of yours is our moneymaker.”

Sam laughs wetly, sniffling a little against Danny’s neck. He pulls back, wiping roughly at his eyes.

“Shut up,” he says, but he’s smiling now. Danny smiles back, even though it hurts.

“Alright, cut it out,” Josh says, voice suspiciously choked. “If you start crying, Jake’s going to cry.”

“Yeah right,” Jake says, but his sunglasses have been firmly placed over his eyes. He turns to Noah, clearing his throat. “What’s the verdict? Hospital?”

“If you want to, but you don’t have to,” Noah says, zipping up his med bag. He strips off his gloves, giving them all an easy smile. “It’s not a bad break and nothing is crooked. So as long as you keep icing it and go easy, you shouldn’t have an issue. Obviously, if you start bleeding again or notice any changes in your vision or headaches, go right away.”

“Roger that,” Josh nods, reaching out a hand to Noah to shake. “Thanks for your help.”

“No problem, guys,” Noah says, shaking each of their hands (Danny’s very gently). “A great set, by the way. Now get out of here, go rest.”

“You heard the man,” Jake says, standing and gesturing for them to get a move on. “Let’s go.”

-

The ride back to the hotel is longer than expected with a stop at a pharmacy for some painkillers and ice packs, but they’re back and getting settled as the sun is sinking below the horizon. Showers are had, painkillers taken, and room service on the way.

Sam is fussing with the pillows on the bed - trying to get them to an appropriate height for Danny to be propped up while he sleeps - when there’s a knock at their door. Danny goes to answer, waving Sam off with a gentle reminder that he can handle opening a door with a broken nose.

It’s Jake and Josh, unsurprisingly, the two of them standing in the doorway expectantly.

Danny opens the door a little wider with a huffed laugh, welcoming them in.

“Just wanted to make sure you’re doing okay,” Jake says, peering around the corner at Sam with an amused smile. “See if you need anything.”

“We’re good,” Danny says gratefully. “Thanks though. How much trouble did I get us into with management?”

Josh waves him off, blowing a raspberry. “Nothing for you to worry about, Danny boy. We told them of your heroic act in defence of Sam, it’s all fine.”

Danny lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, relieved.

“Thanks man,” he says. “Really appreciate it. I didn’t mean to make such a mess of things.”

Jake pins him with a gentle look. “You didn’t make a mess of things,” he says, voice a little softer like he doesn’t want Sam to overhear. “You went to battle for our baby brother. He’s lucky to have you, Danny. We couldn’t ask for a better man for him, I hope you know that.”

Danny feels like he’s been winded, the words so achingly sincere yet so simple in a way that only Jake ever manages to pull off. He blinks a few times in quick succession, surprised by the sudden burn of tears.

“I’d do anything for him,” he says simply, voice wobbling because there’s nothing else to say. It’s Danny’s foundational truth. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for Sam.

“We know,” Josh says, smiling and squeezing Danny’s arm. He clears his throat, looking around the corner at Sam. “Good thing, too,” he says, louder. “We were worried no one would take him off our hands, you know. He’s a real pain in the ass.”

“Huge,” Jake agrees, nodding seriously. “We really can’t thank you enough for your sacrifice. We thought we’d be stuck with him forever.”

“Oh my god, can you two leave,” Sam shouts, brandishing a pillow like he’s going to march over and hit them. “I have to tend to my injured boyfriend, go be annoying somewhere else!”

Jake lifts his hands in surrender, smirking as he backs away towards the door.

“Be good, kiddos,” Josh chirps with a wink. “No strenuous activity!”

Danny laughs, shaking his head as he bids them both goodnight, locking the door behind them. He pads back into the bedroom, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, reaching out for Sam. He pulls him to stand between his knees, looking up at him. He rests his hands on Sam’s hips, thumbs brushing the soft skin just under his threadbare shirt. “I’m sorry I scared you today.”

Sam swallows, lifting a hand to tug at one of Danny’s damp curls.

“Yeah, well,” he says softly, smiling a little. “It was also pretty sexy of you to defend my honour like that.”

Danny smiles, squeezing Sam’s hips. “Yeah?”

Sam snorts, rolling his eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head. You barely made it out alive.”

Danny barks a laugh. He slaps Sam’s ass teasingly, pulling him closer and tugging him down into his lap.

“Screw you, I was winning,” he says, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind Sam’s ear as the smaller man settles in his lap.

“Oh, is it opposite day?”

“If it is then I really hate you,” Danny quips, smiling up at him.

Sam rolls his eyes, hands so careful when they cup Danny’s face. He leans in and kisses him gently.

“I hate you too, Daniel Wagner.”

[shysuccubusstuff]

obsessed! childe pt. 1

Content: Female anatomy, obssession, dubcon (the reader does love Childe, and Childe loves reader, I just love writing yandere males).

Note: The potion that Childe uses is more like a "tell the truth potion", meaning the person will act/say whatever they actually think abt the person, if they do not say it they will start to feel light/mild effects, these effects vary from each person.

Note 2: I was planning on doing a single part but the text was getting too long and I've been cooking this for way too much time cause i have no time to write...

I don't think you are able to understand the surprise Childe felt when he arrived to Inazuma, all with the objective of analyzing a little the situation of Inazuma (while also keeping an eye on Scaramouche), just a small and fast trip, then he would be able to go back to Snezhnaya, rest a little while waiting for the next quest given by the Tsaritsa. While at his stay, he found the different posters that talked about the rock festival that was being planned, and despite this did not catch his interest at first, he received some letters from the Tsaritsa, explaining to him how this would be a good opportunity to check how the people of Inazuma actually felt after the whole "now-we-are-mostly-free" situation. So he agreed, waiting patiently until the even finally took place, he decided to take a walk around Inazuma, just checking the different restaurants and small stalls that were sitting around the streets. He was checking some of the newest items added to the menu when he saw something, well, more like someone. There you were, as pretty as he remembered, you hair shinning thanks to the sun rays that were falling on top of your head. You were smiling...maybe more like laughing, which made you even prettier to be honest. While he stood there, menu still in his hand, he noticed another person, a huge man with long white hair, marks all over his body, he seemed to be quite strong, but taking into account that there was a huge ball of some kind of dessert in front of his feet, he did not seem to be the most brilliant persons that you had been able to meet. While analyzing this man, you suddenly hit him on his shoulder, your body being unable to keep still due to the huge laugh that you were trying to contain (this was useless, as you can see). He threw out what was left of the dessert and started to tickle you, making your own dessert fall to the floor. Now, what the heck was up with that? You barely allowed him to touch you, always saying "Childe, I still don't trust you fully" but a completely new man was able to do so? Yeah, he may have tried to drown you (and the whole city of Liyue) but weren't you being unfair? He stated his reasons and tried to be as kind as possible, giving you as much money as you wanted and even talking to his family about you (the pretty traveller with a fierce heart and a great attitute) but while he was doing that you went around meeting new men?

He quickly left the menu somewhere around the stall, going to where you stanted in a fast pace, but just as he was about to snap at the random man he composed himself, his friendly (yet dangerous) smile was back in his lips, he suddenly put one of his hands on your shoulder, causing you to suddenly jump. The other man slowly stopped, his red eyes looking to his blue eyes, even the expression that was in his face made him look like a complete dork, you changed him for some dull white-haired man? He may not be the most sane person, and yes, he may have a little problem with fighting you, but didn't you two have something? God, he was starting to get furious once again, but he kept the act, face as cool as a cucumber and a relaxed body language. "Hey traveller, long time no see, how have you been?" He only kept his eyes fixated on you, ignoring the existance of Itto for a moment. "I've been missing you like crazy, Teucer has been asking me about you and he was so sad that we have not been able to meet for such a long time!" Your expression got a little ankward, you knew Childe was doing it on purpose, turning his back while not allowing him to enter the conversation. "Oh hey... I didn't know you were going to come here to Inazuma, I've been fine, I was able to make some good friends here in Inazuma, this is Itto, he is the best at onikabuto fights!" Itto seemed to pump his chest, probably full of proud as for that... achivement? Childe smiled, the vein at his neck still pumped, cause what did he expect when he left you alone? All those dirty men probably tried to get to your pretty head with their dumb tactics, yeah, this dude may seem more innocent, but of course he was just like all the others.

Once again, he tried to compose himself, carefully getting his hand around your waist, Itto's eyes did notice, and as he felt how the pressure was getting bigger, he suddenly shifted his eyes, looking at some vague point. "Oh uhm... I forgot I just have this meeting... yeah, the one with the gang you know? Oh shoot, how could I forget? I gotta get going, see ya around compadre!" Itto left like the wind, running as fast as possible to get further away from that strange man who kept looking at him like some kind of prey.

"Oh, lady, why did your friend leave? I was about to invite him to some of the most beautiful places I was able to find... But I would first invite you to the great cuisine at some of the restaurants from Inazuma!" Childe smiled brightly, his enemy was no longer at sight, so of course he should try to keep his act of the "good guy". So he did, he invited to Inazuma's cuisine, even being so good as to get up himself and bringing your food to the table, even adding a special potion created in Mondstadt and carefully mixing it between your food. As he did not enjoy some unfair sparring, he did mix that potion with his own food, after all, if it did have some kind of harmful effects he should also be the one facing them. "Sorry for taking so long, I found some issues with the plate, so I had to ask them to change it!" He carefully explained, leaving each of the plates in the sides, together with the rest of plates that had already been served, just when you finally took a bite of all the food was he finally happy, smile shining as bright as the sun. When the dinner finally ended, he carefully took your hand, leading to the residence that you had been staying at, it was quite old for his liking, but he did find it enchanting, it was the place where you slept after all.

It took him some time to get you to bed, as the potion only seemed to make you drunk in some way body hot and tembling hands. He carefully laid you in bed, tucking you in with a lot of care and leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. He was kind of dissapointed with the drink, but he supposed that this was better than having some bad reaction to it. Just as he was about to leave the bedroom and head to his hotel, he felt a soft pull, your hand was around his wrist, your eyes looked just like a puppy, begging for him to not leave. At first he was quite hesitant, you were not in your right mind, and despite how much he would love to give you the thing you begged so much, he did have some moral compass. But your pretty eyes were melting him, and the sweet things that were leaving your lips did not help him either, so he gave in.

His body starting to burn up, was it because of the potion? It seemed that the potion did have a slower effect in him, as he was ok just a few minutes ago. His mind was starting to get a little fuzzy, so he slowly laid on bed, allowing you to get on top of him. "Ojou-chan...never did I think I would be able to have such a beautiful woman on top of me, not only beautiful, but a woman strong enough to defeat me..." His cocky smile on his lip only caused you to feel even stronger the urge to shut him up with a kiss, so you did, lips on top of each other and hands all over his body, playful hands going under his shirt, body hot to the touch due to the hot temperature of Inazuma at that time. "Aren't you been a little too cocky, lady?" You smile, still being completely under the effects of the potion. You pull away from him, looking at his flusthered face and getting closer to him, bitting and kissing his neck and hearing him let some breathy moans out of his pretty lips. "I'm trying to go easy on you, lady... But you have seen to learn some pretty mischiveous tactics while we were far apart..." He still had that cocky expression, even despite the fact that he was in a much worse state than you. He once again smiled, carefully putting his hands around your hips and massaging that place. He slowly kissed your face, peppering soft lips all around your cheeks and nose. "You're so naughty today, traveller..." Despite his lustful eyes, he kept treating you soft, something completely opposite to how he usually acted, all high and confident, being unafraid of being too rough when you fought each other. Childe's hands slowly moved upwards, pulling out the soft clothes that were covering your body, your skin shinning thanks to the moonlight that entered through the window in the room. "You're so pretty... so so pretty... I wish I could just hide you in my pocket,,, I want my family to meet you as soon as possible..." He kept peppering kisses all over your body, from your shoulders to your tummy, what was up with him? "Ajax... what is going on?..." He simply looked at you like a small puppy, kissing your lips and giving no answer to your question. He slowly got rid of his own clothes, leaving both of you completely naked, slowly analyzing all and each of your gaps and pretty features.

"I'm sorry, lady... I am at my limit and I don't think I can keep much longer... didn't think that the stuff that that damn old man gave me would be so strong..." The creepy face of the other member of the Fatuis almost caused him to flinch, but he just chose to focus on the moment, lowkey thanking him for the chance of such a "dashing" encounter with his dear rival (lover as well).

[theflyingfeeling]

hi hi hellooo! Aleksi's remix of Let Me Down Slowly came up on my youtube recs and it instantly reminded me of your amazing fic and I knoooooooooow I said it a million times but thank you so much for writing it and sharing it, it's so fucking good!!!!!!! 💖💘💖💕💖💖💘

now imagine, pining-idiots-that-haven't-realized-they-are-in-love Allu and Olli are probably enjoying their well deserved breaks from all the stuff they did in 2023 (and most likely with their partners by their side), but I like to imagine that they still make some time for at least one video call once a week, or that they exchange dumb texts daily because they miss each other so much 🥺💕

maybe Olli grabs his guitar one night and comes up with some beautiful riff that he sends to Allu, but this time Aleksi decides that they have to finish it together side by side (clearly an excuse to see Olli again because oooops, he realized he has Feelings™ for his friend and bandmate) and well, Olli had to travel to Helsinki anyway (to make sure the new posters were shipped correctly, or to sign a legal document or some made up bullshit), soooo why not stay at his just-a-friend-i-swear's place for a few days?

they would have the Moment Of Realization late at night, around 2AM when Allu is finally done with the remix and Olli is already asleep on the couch (is he really asleep, though? or just enjoying the moment with his eyes closed?). Allu would not resist the temptation of brushing a curl off Olli's beautiful face, and maybe caressing one of his cheeks while he can, not forseeing that Olli would be very much awake, so now they're both holding their breaths and staring at each other with so much love 💖💕💘

maybe they finally dare to get closer and share a shy little kiss after all those years of pining, or maybe they feel like they can't do it, not while they still have a significant other, and leave the studio confused and unsure of what to do next 🥰

anyways, it's already late over here and I used my last braincell to daydream about this 😅 have a lovely lovely day 💖💕💘💖💕💘

OH MY GOD???!!?!?!??!?! 😭😭😭😭😭

this made my stomach do the thing because akdjshfksjfdkf I've honestly spent the entire Christmas break thinking about the two of them constantly checking their phones and not really understanding why they feel so disappointed when there's no new text from the other or why they feel a pang of jealousy when the other posts a holiday greeting in the group chat (=a selfie with their gf with a cheesy Christmassy/NYE edit and a text "Happy Holidays from us!")

amd aaaahhhh imagine soft Olli playing softly on his soft guitar AND THINKING OF ALLU THE WHOLE TIME DJDHFGFFJFF I meaaaaan may I remind y'all that yet again this is not just something the delulu made up but instead it's something that actually for real happened with the Let Me Down remix 😭 obviously we don't know if Olli had the riff ready and Allu just happened to need one and it came up in a conversation, or if Allu asked him to make him one, or if Olli just sent the riff to Allu who was so inspired (and in love (with the riff! or at least that's what he convinced himself then)) that he made an entire remix based off it 🥺 my point here is that it's TOO EASY to imagine them doing exactly what you just derscribed 🤧💕

and yeah, I have also been imagining their first kiss and how terrifying it would be for the both of them 😭 I mean, I want to assume that the "deep talks" they've had over a glass of wine or a bottle of Mountain Dew (again, something we know for certain they done, not just something the delulu has decided is canon!!) they have also discussed sex and/or sexuality and came out as bi to each other, so it's not the fact they're both dudes and about to kiss each other that's messing with their heads rather than the fact they're both in relationships skgjdjfksjfsjfjdjf fuck why am I so invested in this 😩

bonus points indeed if they only ALMOST kiss before they snap out of it and aaaaaaaaaa poor confused boys!! because this whole time they've been like "I don't actually like him that way, and even if I did nothing could ever happen because we're friends and co-workers and he's taken" but then they realise they were having an undeniable Moment(tm) and the other was actually about to kiss them back too so they're like ???????????????? oh god 😭

thanks for this, I feel so validated once again 🙈

[duckduckhjonk]

buh TPOT 13 review time!!!! wahooooo

right on, you know the gist, spoilers ahead! :3

starting off really strong with Firey and Leafy! I had a theory that by the end of TPOT at least one more from that post split group might rejoin TPOT(pls let it be Bubble but shhhh) although I wonder why they're building that little structure tbh. On a side note, I've never been a huge fan of Firey and Leafy's little plot they've had since the start, but I'll admit this moment is cute. but also RIP LEAFY LMAOOO

I'm surprised to see One have this much power, although I do think my theory still stands of her being the weakest of the algebraliens. I think her powers are primarily only active within the pocket dimension, leading her to want more power outside of it.

Love all the missing posters everyone's making here. They miss their friends. Pen and Needle's friendship is everything to me.

CAKE AT STAKE TIME!!!!!!

I was on the edge of my seat during this. I'm really really surprised Match got such a small amount of votes. I would have thought she would got more than like- David or something. ALSO RAGHGHHH SO UPSET THAT DORA DIDN'T MAKE IT IN but oh well. ALSO THE REVEAL!!!!!!! TWO OF THEM!!!!!!! I love how Bracelety did that, rip Bracelety. I'm surprised again, with how much everyone was propaganda-ing for Bracelety I'm shocked she didn't win by a landslide. BUT WOOOO LIY MAKES IT IN LETS FUCKING GO WE LOVE LIY IN THIS HOUSEHOLD. Pencil don't be mean :{ you made them cry. Also a little surprised that both teams up for elim get the contestants.

As much as I knew Barf Bag was getting out, it still hurt. Loved her lots. I'm thankful Donut is safe and Golf Ball. I really really wish Yellow Face went home, I fucking hate Yellow Face.

BUT ALSO NEEDLE??? WHAT IS WRONG WITH VOTERS?????????????????? NEEDLE??? WHEN SHE WAS JUST GETTING HER SIBLING ARC WITH PEN???????? but also TV's little flower dancey dance is peak.

maybe Pen and Liy friendship arc though.

I love how panicked Two is just always.

THE INTRO!! HAS THE NEWBIES!!! LIY NEXT TO FANNY AND PENCIL IS ON BELL'S STRING!!!!! also another funny thing I like how Two failed at starting it and Gaty did it. I'm absolutely obsessed with Two and Gaty's dynamic in general.

I loved this challenge, I really have been loving how Fanny has taken a leadership role in her team and tbh in TPOT in general. Like, she has her arc with Death PACT has been brilliant and now with One as well and Robot Flower??? She's peak!!!!!! Like she probably won't have as prominent of a role in One's story as like Basketball, but like- she's still probably going to be prominent. She's my fave for a reason!!!!!!!!!

Also already this episode I've wanted to tell Pencil to shut the fuck up multiple times, god I hate her.

I like how Golf Ball and Donut had a chance to talk one on one during the challenge.

I think I also liked how Pen opposed killing the David. I think the whole Death PACT rubbed off on him.

I, uh, I kinda don't care about Book. Or Team 2's storyline. like. at all. I honestly wish Tear Drop made it to the team swap. She could have made it better.

We love a good fight scene, and the whole Death PACT vs Robot Flower fight was absolutely brilliant. The reference to Robot Flower launching Fanny to put her head back on in BFB was really cool, and I loved its resolution as well. TB and BB teaming up with them to help out only to betray them in the end, awesome. Although its a bummer to see them up for elimination so soon. I really hope Robot Flower doesn't immediately get out after this, she's important.

Anyways, I love hearing both Donut's and Golf Ball's perspectives on their team. I still love the idfb crumbs we got for Golf Ball and I think that could play a part in her view point. I do want to see them idk reconcile a little?

OFF TOPIC BUT BLACK HOLE GOING "Nice to see you again, Liy :)" EVERYTHING TO ME.

anyways. I do want to see Golf Ball learn to hear her team's voices, and maybe for Donut to focus on winning a little more. I really want to have that be the arc, please, please jacknjellify, please if you want my undying affection(that you already do have, this wont actually change anything.)

most of the shots in this episode and its lighting were super fucking cool like- the one where RF stabs Gaty with Pin??? Baller. The one before the fight showing all the characters faces??? also baller.

I'm sorry, yet again reiterating how awesome Fanny's character development has been. She's awesome and now she's friends(I think) with Black Hole. She's everything to me. I love how much she cares about everything.

"I do have power, but not enough..." MY THEORY STANDS

ALSO WHAT DID YOU DO TO BELL AND BOMBY AND NEEDLE AND BARF BAG???????????? ONE IS EVIL I'M TELLING YOU!!!!!!!!!! I CALLED IT FROM THE START HER INTENTIONS ARE BAD.

Basketball did it for Robot Flower, we love that for her. also their heart to heart peak>>>>>>>> I've never been this excited about Robot Flower before. "The best version of you is the one we have here" CRYING I'M SOBBING.

I also loved Tennis Ball and Golf Ball's dynamic this episode. They care so much about each other.

The ending to the episode felt a little rushed and chaotic. Like I feel like it was a "fuck, how do we make someone other than death pact lose?" kind of moment.

but honestly over all, quite possibly my favourite episode. I absolutely loved it. Unfortunately, now I will be knawing at the bars of my cage waiting for TPOT 14 to come out.

Let me know what you think as well! This took so long to write and comprehensively make, I even had to take a walk ouh. But yeah, fucking loved this episode. Put your thoughts in the notes or even in my inbox! Both are always open :3