#only to say that if that kid gave me issues to just call the other principal
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whytheylosttheirminds · 4 months ago
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Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 5 (part two)
(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 3.8k words)
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series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.
tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder
series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues
⇢ series masterlist
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Years later, you’d still wonder if Topper did it all on purpose. 
When you asked him, he’d just wink and say “bet you’d like to know.” 
As your group walked down the dock towards the rental kiosk, Topper pulled out his phone, grinning down at the screen.
“What’s funny?” Carter tried to read over his shoulder.
“Nothing,” he tucked his phone in his pocket quickly, failing to hide the cheeky look in his eyes, zero poker face. “Kelce is coming.”
The guy Carter had haggled with brought your group over to the three jet skis and gave you a demonstration on how to drive them. You weren’t paying very close attention, more focused on the uneven pairing of the five of you and how to ensure you didn’t end up on the same jet ski as Tom. His rudeness this morning was the final nail in the coffin of your crush.
The guy gave Carter three keys, and you met her eyes, knowing she was thinking the same thing. 
Topper looked at Carter hopefully, his big puppy dog eyes watching her with anticipation. You felt for him, the two of you really weren’t all that different. Sure, he’d gotten to hook up with Carter plenty of times, his crush not totally unrequited, but she’d never given him what he really wanted. At the end of the day, you were just two people who were really good at loving people who didn’t love you back. Still, you knew in your heart of hearts that Carter did love him back, even if she wouldn’t admit it. Maybe you would never get your dream, but you could make sure that two people you cared about got theirs, and that might be the only thing that made this all worth it.
You planned it out quick, knowing Carter was seconds from asking you to ride with her so you wouldn’t be with Tom, and also knowing that what she really wanted was an afternoon alone with Topper.
“I told Kelce I’d ride with him,” you blurted out. 
“Did you?” Carter asked skeptically, trying to figure you out.
“Yeah, I think he’s still worried I’m mad at him,” you made up off the top of your head. “Thought I’d throw him a bone.”
Carter watched you the whole time she boarded the back of Topper’s jet ski, telling him to wait up so they didn’t leave you alone. Tom and Sabrina didn’t seem to care about leaving you, speeding off the second they climbed on their jet ski, Sabrina’s over-the-top shrieks echoing through the air.
“That bother you?” Topper asked when he caught you scowling in their direction.
“Actually, I’m thinking they might be made for each other,” you concluded.
“So you’re not, like, into him?” Topper asked hopefully.
“Not anymore. That ship sailed so quick,” you snorted.
“Ah,” he tried to play it cool, “good to know.” 
“Don’t get any fucking ideas,” Carter warned him.
“I didn’t say anything!” He insisted.
“You don’t have to, you have zero poker face,” Carter said. “No Tom does not equal yes Rafe.”
“I’m just saying it’s good to know. Am I not allowed to know things?” 
You rolled your eyes at their bickering, less than surprised they were having this conversation right in front of you.
“Y’know, you guys can just take off, I’ll be fine waiting for Kelce,” you offered, desperate to move this conversation about your love life out to sea and away from you.
“Right, Kelce,” Topper nodded. “Kelce is coming.”
“Why are you being so weird?!” Carter squinted at him.
“I’m not! I just wanna go!” Topper revved the engine of the jet ski.
Carter looked at you one more time, checking that you were okay with this.
“Have fun!” You said to reassure her.
That’s all Topper needed to hear, he hit the throttle and pulled away from the dock as fast as he could. Carter’s laughter filled the air, she grabbed him tight and tucked her chin in the crook of his shoulder as he drove. She was happy, so you were happy. Your whole life, that’s really all it took, and you knew she felt the same way about you.
With that lovely thought, you climbed on the jet ski so you’d be ready to go as soon as Kelce arrived. 
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Rafe held the keys a little too tight, Kelce struggling to pry them from his hands.
“You gotta take it easy on the clutch, she’s sensitive.”
“I know how to drive, man,” Kelce wriggled the keys from his grip as he climbed into the driver’s seat of Rafe’s truck.
Rafe stalled by the door for a minute, his feet suddenly feeling very heavy. He looked around the marina, scanning for the group. His heart skipped a beat when he found only you, bobbing in the water on your jet ski all alone.
He’d texted Topper a head’s up that he was coming and asked him to let you know. He didn’t want you to think he was in on Topper’s dumbass scheme to get you two together. If he was gonna do this he was gonna do it right, not try to trick you into it.
Now you were waiting for him, looking so gorgeous with your legs on either side of the seat and your hair blowing gently in the wind. 
Usually, he didn’t call girls beautiful, typically opting for hot, or sometimes pretty if he was drunk. But the only word for you right now, and always, was beautiful.
“You gonna let me leave, man?” Kelce asked, gesturing to Rafe’s hands, still clutching the handle of the door.
“Yeah, sorry,” Rafe pulled away, wiping his hand against his board shorts when he realized it was clammy, the sight of you making him nervous in a way he had never been before.
“What’s got you so worried? Are you scared of her or something?” Kelce mocked him.
Rafe was surprised that Kelce had actually caught on to who he was looking at, giving him an annoyed eye roll.
“I’m not scared of her,” he defended himself.
“Don’t even worry about it man, I bet she’s still wrapped around your finger.”
Rafe shot Kelce a steely warning look he’d given him a thousand times.
“I’m just saying, you don’t need to worry,” Kelce explained. “You’re the man.”
Kelce was an idiot, and he spent a good ninety percent of their friendship pissing Rafe off, but he always tried to hype Rafe up. Usually he was annoyed by it, but right now, he actually needed it.
You used to talk about him that way, too. Oh, the money he would pay for you to see him in a good light again. He’d swim across this entire bay just to hear one kind word about him coming from your lips. 
“Nah, I’m really not,” he shook his head slightly, looking back toward you. “But I think with her I could be.”
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The audacity, the fucking nerve of him to come strolling down the dock looking that good. The sun actually broke through the crowds at his arrival, like he’d bribed the gods. He strolled towards you so casually, his grin easy, like he didn’t know he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen in real life. It pissed you off.
“What are you doing here?” You snapped at him when he reached you.
His grin faltered, like he was the one surprised to see you.
“Didn’t Topper tell you I was coming?” He asked.
“No, of course he didn’t,” you said, finally understanding the reason for Topper’s strangeness earlier.
“I asked him to,” Rafe swore. “I didn’t want to make you think I was trying to-”
“I think I’m just gonna go alone,” you cut him off, turning the key in the engine of the jet ski, desperate to put an ocean between you and him before he said another considerate thing that he’d just undo later. “You can rent your own.”
“No can do,” said the owner, arriving to hand Rafe a lifejacket. “This is our last one. You better take your boyfriend with you, sweetheart.”
You rolled your eyes at the situation and the misogynistic comment. 
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you mumbled. 
Rafe felt the correction was unnecessary, but you didn’t seem to be in the mood for constructive feedback at the moment.
“Is it cool if I, uh, can I come with you?” He wasn’t walking back down this dock without trying.
“Fine,” you agreed reluctantly. “But I’m driving.”
“Good with me,” he climbed on quickly before you could change your mind.
With a kick that sent you both lurching forward, the jet ski roared as you tightened your hand on the throttle. Instinctually, Rafe’s hands landed on your side, holding you both in place. You only had a second to feel the pads of his fingers clinging to the soft skin of your waist before he pulled them away.
“Shit, sorry,” he said.
The guy on the dock leaned forward to push the jet ski from the dock, redirecting you out toward the bay.
“No, actually you should hold on,” he instructed. “These babies go fast and it’s a little choppy out there today. Take it real easy out of the marina and then you can kick it up when you’re in open water.”
You could feel Rafe’s hands twitch with hesitancy before they rested on your sides again, so lightly you wondered if he was actually touching you at all.
With a push, you drifted out to sea, slowly picking up speed with the turn of the throttle.
“Do you want me to let go?” He asked, leaning in so you could hear him over the roar of the motor.
Somehow, you thought two completely conflicting thoughts at the exact same time:
Yes, now.
and
No, never.
You settled on, “whatever.”
Rafe started to let go, but the jet ski hit the wake of a nearby boat, and you both nearly flew off the seat. His grip tightened protectively, practically pinning your body down. With his strong hands on you so firmly, it felt like you could hit a tidal wave and he’d still have you in his grasp. You needed more of whatever that was.
Your laughter filled the salty air as you purposefully drove you and Rafe over the choppiest patches of the water, hair whipping behind you into his face, and he didn’t even care. He watched you in the side view mirror on the front of the jet ski, memorizing every inch of your smile like he’d never see it again.
“Jesus, are you trying to kill us?” He teased, yelling over the woosh of the wind.
“It’d be a fun way to go!” You yelled back, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
Rafe’s hands still on your waist, you felt him lean in slightly. Even with two lifejackets between you, the proximity of your bodies was electrifying. You could feel his strong thighs on either side of your hips, closing you in everytime you hit a bump, securing you in place. You wondered if he was doing it on purpose or if it was just his instinct, you didn’t know which was hotter.
The water rushed behind you, a foamy wake marking your path as you continued driving as fast as you could. The others must’ve gone a different way out of the marina, because they were nowhere in sight. The sky was darkening slightly, the shift in weather causing most boats to drive the opposite way, back to the docks. But you just kept going, and Rafe didn’t tell you to turn around, both drunk on the adrenaline of the speed and the feeling of each other’s skin.
After a particularly jostling bump, the engine sputtered slightly.
“Fuck, what was that?” You puzzled, turning the throttle harder but gaining no speed.
“Here, you gotta twist it like this,” Rafe’s arms wrapped around you, his hands covering yours as he guided you to turn the throttle in the exact way you just were.
“That’s exactly what I was doing,” you bickered. “It’s not working.”
“Maybe I should drive?”
“It’s not my driving, something’s wrong with the jet ski,” you argued, swatting his hands away. 
“Can you just let me try?” He argued back.
“No, you’re making it worse!” 
The engine continued to sputter until it cut completely, causing both your bodies to lunge forward as it came to an abrupt halt.
“Rafe what did you do?” You accused him.
“What did I do? You wouldn’t even let me touch it!” He snapped.
You turned the key in the ignition over and over. The jet ski growled a few times but never started back up. Eventually, you gave up with a frustrated huff.
“I think we’re out of gas,” you conceded.
“Well, did you ask the guy if it was filled before you left?” Rafe questioned.
“Oh, so now this is my fault?” You craned your neck to see him, anger in your eyes.
“No, that’s not-”
“I’m so tired of this, Rafe.”
“We’ve only been out here for like a minute.”
“No, not this,” you motioned toward the water, “this,” you motioned between you and him.
“Oh. Me?” He tried and failed to hide his hurt feelings.
“Not you, just, all this back and forth. One second we’re having a good time and the next you’re pulling away or snapping at me. I have fucking whiplash.”
“Are you sure it’s not just from the jet ski?” He attempted a joke, it only half worked.
“How are we gonna get back?” You redirected the conversation before he could see you were smirking.
“A boat will come by,” he said confidently. “We’ll be fine.”
No boats came by in the following minute, or the following five. You sat in tense silence, your previous words still hanging between you. Your head hurt from the wind and trying to figure this man out.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, almost inaudible. “I know I’m…difficult.”
You turned your neck, not quite far enough to see him, but enough to let him know you were listening, that he should go on.
“I don’t know how to act around you,” he admitted. “One second I feel like I’ve fucked it up so bad that there’s not even a point in trying to fix it and the next…”
This time, you do turn, twisting your torso so you could look him intently in the eyes, imploring him to say something right for once, begging him not to let you fall off this cliff alone again.
“…you look at me like that,” he almost whispered. “And then I think fuck it, I’d try forever if you let me.”
For the first time ever, he was with you on the way down, finally jumping together.
“Can I?” He asked, voice low.
“Can you what?” you blinked at him slowly, the moment so surreal you worried it wasn’t happening, that you’d wake up in Carter’s bed, all of this day just one long fever dream.
“Fix things…with you?”
“I don’t know.”
It was the most honest answer you could give him.
“Can I try?” His voice broke slightly when he said it, and you could feel the vulnerability leaking through the cracks.
“Yeah,” you gave in.
“I miss you,” he breathed, and your heart felt heavy with longing and resentment at the same time.
“I don’t think you ever really knew me, Rafe,” you said, turning to face forward again, sad eyes scanning the horizon. “You never paid close enough attention.”
He thought over your words, and you could feel that there was something brewing in his mind, a decision he was making. When he finally spoke again, it wasn’t the words you expected.
“What’s your favorite color?”
You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you said, “huh?”
“Just tell me,” he smiled back, even though you weren’t looking, you could hear it in his voice.
You answered him, and he followed that question up with another, and another, and they kept rolling off his tongue and you kept answering, until the strangeness of it faded and the two of you were just talking.
For over an hour, you drifted, leaning forward on the handlebars with your back to him as Rafe asked you questions and listened intently to your long, detailed answers. You were hesitant, just at first. No one had ever let you talk this long without interrupting you. No one had ever wanted so badly to hear what you had to say. He nodded along to everything, responding with thoughtful mhms and carefully worded follow up questions.
After a while, you forgot about the surrealness of it all, where you were, who you were with. It was just you and your old friend, sharing your lives with each other. 
I could do this for a long time, you thought, like maybe forever.
Everytime you thought he must be bored by now, he just kept asking, hanging on every word like he was collecting them for some secret project.
“What do you want to do after you graduate?” and “Who’s your closest friend?” and “Are you still into that one band?” and eventually, when he was running low on ideas, “what’s the last movie you saw?”
You laughed. 
“What?” He asked with a timidness that squeezed your heart.
“The last movie I saw was the last movie you saw,” you reminded him.
“Oh, right,” he chuckled, but there was an edge to it.
“It’s a good movie, though,” you leaned back toward him a little, trying to pull him from whatever thoughts were causing his spirit to fall. “My favorite.”
He nodded, “Tom did a nice job putting together that little shindig.”
“I guess so,” you said, not sure how to proceed.
“You know he plays football for U of F?” He said. “Or did I guess, before he graduated.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yeah, he was All American,” he nodded. You’d give all the money you had for one glimpse of what was going on in his head.
“He’s an impressive guy,” he admitted. “I can see why you’d end up in his room.”
“Rafe, oh my god,” you huffed, standing suddenly. Your body rose above him, his eyes tracking every movement. You swung your leg over the seat, flipping around so you were facing him, sitting back down so you could look him in the eyes when you said, “I didn’t sleep in Tom’s room.”
“Oh.”
It was all he could muster up, his throat going dry from both the embarrassment he felt for being wrong and the sudden proximity of your bodies. He willed himself not to let his eyes travel down to the way your lifejacket was pushing your chest together, or the soft skin of your bare thighs, now spread open in front of him as you straddled the seat. He kept his eyes on yours, the most respectful option, though it didn’t help his speechlessness. The uninterrupted contact with your beautiful irises nearly put him over the edge. He almost hoped no boats would come by after all so he could look into your eyes for hours.
“Is that why you got up and left last night?” You questioned, not missing the way his eyes were trained intensely on yours.
“The floor was uncomfortable,” he mumbled.
“The floor,” you nodded, “the floor was uncomfortable. Got it.”
“You're mad at me again,” he surmised.
“When was I ever not mad at you?” 
“I dunno,” he shrugged sarcastically, “somewhere between the movie and your panties hitting the floor.”
You wanted to slap him. And kiss him. He could tell, teasing you with a sideways smirk. You tried to channel the newfound confidence you’d had last night, addicted to the taste of power.
You leaned forward, hands on the leather seat between you, looking up at him with hooded eyes.
“Did you like that?” 
“You know I did.” 
He responded so fast and his voice was so low you couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or turned on. Either way, he wasn’t fucking around anymore.
“Then why didn’t you stay?” 
It felt like that one question held so many questions, and based on the look on his face, you knew he could hear it too. You weren’t just asking about last night, you weren’t just asking why he went to sleep on the couch. You were asking about years of him coming up short, why he’d failed you so many times, why he never, ever seemed to pick you.
“I didn’t know you wanted me to.”
As he said it, the wind kicked up, and the jet ski began to rock even harder as waves rose and fell beneath you. One particularly choppy wave had you tilting a little too far off the seat, and Rafe’s hands landed on your waist again. This time, there was nothing hesitant about it. When you didn’t push him away, his thumb brushed an experimental circle into your skin.
“Do you want me to let go?”
In lieu of answering, your hands came to rest over his. He assumed you were gonna pull them off of you, and for a moment you thought you might too, but then his words echoed in your mind: he didn’t know you wanted him to.
You could do this. You could lean into it and just let it happen. You were supposed to fight it, make him grovel more, make him pay you back for the years you’d waited. It’s what everyone expected. You were only a few hundred yards off shore, but the rest of the world felt lightyears away, and out here, there was nothing stopping you letting him touch you, kiss you, have you. You could just let it happen, and no one would have to know.
But before you could decide if you wanted to, a deep rumble of thunder broke out across the sky.
“Shit,” you jumped. 
“We gotta get out of here,” Rafe looked up at the darkening sky nervously.
“But how?” 
“How well can you swim?”
That’s how Rafe ended up in the water, gripping the back of the jet ski as the waves rocked it harshly, water splashing up and landing on your feet. You tightened your lifejacket, feeling apprehensive about the whole thing.
“I can just push us if you want to stay on,” Rafe offered.
“No, it’ll go faster if it’s both of us.”
You stepped to the edge, hesitating, wanting to rip the bandaid and just jump in but not wanting to jump too far off and get separated. Your indecision cost you, your foot slipped and you dropped into the water, your leg scraping against the edge of the jet ski as you fell. 
Blinded by pain, you reached for Rafe as your head slipped under the surface, but your hands came up empty.
(Chapter 6: part one)
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a/n: please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕
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lesbianstarlightglimmer · 2 years ago
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This is how my day went
During bus duty the principal asked when my collab hour was so I told her. She said she wanted to meet that 5th hour. Yesterday, my mentor told me that principals met with newer teachers to “interview them” aka ask “you want to come back here? Okay cool you’re rehired.”
Cool that’s fine that must be what the meeting is then. Good sign!
First hour comes and goes. Standing in the hallway when another first year comes up to me and says she had asked the principal about the rehiring process (it was technically supposed to happen pre spring break but. Didn’t. Obviously.)
Principal told her that as long as the teacher isn’t called for a meeting to her office that they were implied to be rehired.
Bad sign!
So I now sit through the next handful of classes anxious because what if they were going to tell me in the middle of the day I wasn’t going to be back next year?
Time finally comes for me to meet with her. She’s meeting with several important admin people. Hoping it wasn’t for/about me.
They leave and she lets me in.
“Yeah so just so you know you’ll be getting an email about your position being opened.”
Omg here it comes…
“But you’re filled into the position (aka you’re renewed to come back next year)”
??????
Going insane
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doromoni · 2 months ago
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Not Over the Papaya | OP81
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⊹ 。•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader
Genre : Smau
A/N : I missed u all 🫶
Face claim : Jennie Kim
Warning : Just a reminder that this is all fiction!! nothing in this ever happened in real life, so don’t hate on the people referenced ok??
Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
< Previous | Part 16 | Next >
*Incoming call from Zak Brown
Pick up or Decline
Pick up
- Oscar what do you think you’re doing?-
- I’m celebrating my success with my friends… because apparently my team planned to have one without me -
- You were informed by your team, Oscar. Don’t act as if everything is our fault.-
- Informed? your team emailed Mark, not me. Mark, my manager who’s also in Australia a day before the event are you fucking kidding?-
- Don’t talk to me like that kid I’m your boss.-
- Yeah. not for long-
- what did you just say to me!?-
- I said not for long -
- I gave you the chance to drive for my team. Be grateful brat! -
- Yeah, thanks for the British bias bullshit you run in your team -
- I-
Call ended
Notification : a voice message from Zak Brown*
-Get your ass back to England. NOW!-
Notification: a massage from Norris*
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f1news
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f1news Problem in the Papaya garage? Oscar Piastri was spotted in the MTC today! Rumors are spreading about internal issues inside Mclaren as insider tips are saying that Oscar Piastri will be facing disciplinary actions, while the reason wasn’t said — fans speculate that it was because of the party Oscar threw with other drivers and his girlfriend during his stay in Australia.
user1 Dude this is wild! I’m sat for the drama.
user2 Oscar making another issue for his team… Lando can’t relate
user3 dude @user2 are you for real? Lando is far from innocent.
user4 Bro I’m starting to hate Oscar lowkey. He’s talented for sure but he doesn’t know the first thing about team integrity
user5 First Alpine then Mclaren 🤦‍♀️
user6 Mclaren to drop Oscar please
user7 Lando gave him his 1st win and he acts like this
user8 Dude deserved!
user9 These fans are wild… if it were Max or Charles doing what Oscar did they’d support it or turn a blind eye.
user10 Well Max and Charles are both 1st drivers of their teams. Oscar is just 2nd to Lando
user11 Oscar is hardly a second driver and that’s with Mclaren’s bias towards Lando
user12 What bias?? They have the same car
user13 Fake fan spotted! Lando always gets the upgrades first.
user14 That’s because he’s the first driver!
user15 Lando >>> Oscar
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mclaren
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mclaren PATO O’ WARD will be driving in Brazil! Pato will be driving for the practice session in Sau Paulo Don’t miss him drive!
landonorris Good luck Mate!!
patoo’ward thank dude
user1 let me guess, he’s using Oscar’s car.
user2 are they using this to punish Oscar?
user3 let’s go Pato!!!
user4 McLaren what are you trying to do??
user5 this shit is not gonna end well
f1news
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f1news Mclaren had Pato O’ward fill in for Oscar Piastri all throughout 3 practice sessions. Oscar is reportedly cleared for driving and is healthy as told by the FIA.
Even without putting in time and practicing Oscar will be driving for qualifying and the main race.
Everyone is now questioning what exactly is going on inside Mclaren and is what they’re doing ethical and safe not only for their driver but also for the whole grid.
user1 YO WHAT?!! THEY DID WHAT??!
user2 I get that Oscar is under disciplinary action but this is so not it!! bro FIA DO SMTH
user3 Not only is this unfair to Oscar but this is so fucking unsafe for everyone on that grid
user4 What is McLaren thinking?!!!
user5 Please tell me this is a joke.
user6 Oscar looks livid and I cant blame the dude, his own team is fucking him over.
f1news
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f1news BREAKING 🚨: Lando Norris wins pole while teammate Oscar Piastri crashes out in Q1 and qualifies P17.
user1 i’m not even McLaren fan and even I know what they did to Oscar was disgusting
user2 Mclaren should be fined and face the consequences of their actions… they did that to their own driver
user3 Just what the fuck
user4 I’m speechless. They made Pato drive all practice and they made Oscar qualify without a single practice lap?!! who tf let Mclaren do that
user5 the FIA failed Oscar
user6 this is sickening, what has become of this sport.
user7 Oscar needs to get out of that team!! are they trying to kill him?!
user8 Oscar risked his life and crashed out … where tf is McLaren’s med team?!! not even a proper radio call to ask if Oscar was ok?!!
user9 this is so not right.
Y/N. 10 mins
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*story replies are disabled
charles_leclerc 9 mins
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*story replies are disabled
maxverstappen1 8mins
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*story replies are disabled
danielricciardo
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*story replies are disabled
logansargeant
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*story replies are disabled
f1news
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f1news Mark Webber found approaching the RedBull motorhome! Is this for old time’s sake or is his visit something more?
Series Taglist : @champagneproblems17 @itsjustfranzi @cheriwritesig @forza-charles @awritingtree @sltwins @gr1mes-cc @hwalllllllelujah @btsfluffsworld @tillyt04 @landotd @booksandflowrs @czennieszn @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @tellybearryyyy @wobblymug @alittlechaotics-blog @bingussthirdtoe @mirrorball-6 @demandealalune @heartsforleclerc @yoongi-holland @maneskin-slave @alenix @forensicheart @bloodyymaryyy @stereading @hahahjej @youre-on-your-ownkid : closed
Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : closed for now
special thanks to @sam123456789987654321 ; thanks for always checking up on me luv!
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wannaeatramyeon · 3 months ago
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Your Adventures as the Lookismverse Designer
G/N. Run-ins with Burn Knuckles, Goddog, Allied and Big Deal. Masterlists
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Being in the Fashion department, you had assumed your classmates had a passion for fashion. For god's sake, it's in the name.
But no, you're wrong.
Apart from using it as an excuse to wear designer brands from head to toe, no one really gave a shit.
No one cared about the history, about design, fabrication, construction.
No one... apart from you that is.
.
.
Your first client wasn't really someone you could say no to unless you had a death wish.
When the whole of the Architecture department shows up along with Vasco, their terrifying leader, you consider running off and screaming.
It was only Jace Park, who seemed to understand a more subtle approach and how intimidating they looked, that stopped you from wanting to flee to the teacher.
(Strange. You actually don't recall seeing your teacher for months.)
"Please," Jace murmurs to Vasco and he's practically begging. "You didn't need to turn up with everyone. Just leave this to me. Please."
If you didn't know better, you would think Vasco was giving him grateful puppy eyes. But that can't be right. He's a thug.
"Sorry," Jace turns to you, looking contrite and fiddling anxiously with his big ears when you're finally on your own. "Are you the Fashion Designer?"
It should have been a stupid question, considering you're in the Fashion Department.
Except you look around at the so-called boxer who pitifully simps after the brunette all day, the rich blonde kid who never talks to anyone, the other girl who is an aspiring streamer and you sigh to yourself.
"Yes, that's me."
.
.
All things considered, the Burn Knuckles are very easy to please.
It's a design printed on some pre-made boilersuits, not exactly avant garde.
You did touch up the logo though and provided some more clothing options than requested. Boilersuits in a small selection of colours, bomber and leather jackets.
When you hand over the boxes to Vasco and Jace, the latter shakes your hand and the former stares at you with tears in his eyes and asks how they can ever repay you.
You shrug. Because he did already pay you for your time and the materials.
"Don't worry about it." You say, giving him a polite grin.
Vasco beams and you think maybe this guy isn't so scary.
.
.
.
.
Somehow your reputation precedes you.
To be honest you didn't even realise you had any sort of reputation until a guy with a messy mop head and two dogs corners you in an alleyway.
"I heard you're the Designer," he grunts.
A part of you thinks of fleeing once again. A smaller part of you thinks damn, that nickname is kinda cool.
"I am?"
"Don't play dumb. I know who you are."
You would have found him rude and menacing if not for his dogs picking that exact moment to roll around on the floor belly-up, desperately wanting some attention.
"Fuck's sake," he mutters though he squats down anyway to pat them. "So?" he continues, trying to regain his previous threatening aura even as the pups wriggle around under his touch.
"So what?"  you ask, not able to stop the smile creeping over your face at this adorable sight.
"I need some clothing."
.
.
Perhaps the Burn Knuckles gave you a false sense of bravado, thinking everyone would be as easy as them. Unfortunately, this guy is a goddamn headache.
He wants hoodies, which isn't an issue but he wants matching dog-sized ones and he wants you to design the logo from scratch too.
"But I don't do graphic design," you cry and he pretends he can't hear you.
On your twelfth iteration, he doesn't glare at it and praise the heavens; he's finally happy.
Well, happy is an overstatement. He doesn't exactly look happy but he's no longer glaring at you, so you assume in Johan Seong's world, that means he's exhilarated.
The hoodies fit, both Johan and the dogs, and the logo looks good too.
You wave goodbye to the back of all three. Your bank balance is healthier except you hope they never darken your doorstep again.
.
.
(You have no such luck. He returns, months later, requesting tracksuits.)
.
.
.
.
It's a sorry state of affairs when three of the members of Allied are part of the Fashion Department, and come to you asking for help.
"Why don't you design it yourself?" you ask Daniel Park, Zack Lee and Jay Hong.
They look at you like you've grown two heads.
.
.
You will be eternally grateful that Jay Hong is mute, that Vasco is actually the sweetest cinnamon roll, and Daniel Park is pretty easy-going because having Vin Jin and Zack Lee constantly bickering and criticising your design is bad enough.
Apparently these men are very adept fighters. Caught up in some gang shit. It didn't matter. You still wanted to ram your pen through their skulls.
Then throw in someone else called Hudson Ahn who also seems to like giving rude, overly critical comments concealed as constructive criticism -
You threatened to quit more than once.
.
.
Eventually, after staying awake for 46 hours - you all agree on a logo.
"Here." You thrust the USB drive with the files at Daniel Park.
"What do I do with this?"
"You're in the Fashion Department too." You rub at your tired eyes, patience long gone with these morons. "Find a clothing printer yourself. Search for it on the internet. You know what that is right? The internet?"
Somewhere to your right, Vin Jin bursts into laughter.
.
.
.
.
You can't decide if this guy is trying to sell you something or if you're actually falling in love with him by the second.
Hell, he could sell you some snake-oil and you're so charmed you don't mind.
"So, you'll do it?" he asks, holding your hands in his larger gloved ones and you feel yourself simpering like an idiot at the contact.
"Sure thing, Mr. Kim."
"Jake," he says, giving you a toothy grin. "I'm Jake. And this is Jerry."
"Who?"
"Jerry Kwon," A large hulking man steps up besides Jake, offering you a handshake.
What? How did you miss him? You didn't notice him at all.
"Oh. Uh. Of course. Nice to meet you too Jerry."
"Come here, guys." Jake signals for the other men hanging back to come forth. "Ths is Brad and Jerry and Lineman."
Shit. Damnit, you've been so fixated on Jake Kim that you ignored everyone else.
Hell. You didn't even realise there was anyone else.
"Hi," you say, wanting the ground to swallow you up and blushing furiously.
Jake catches your eye and gives you a wink.
.
.
Being completely honest, the Big Deal tracksuits aren't your best work.
You're not too sure on the logo design (though hey - that's not really your handiwork). The placement is a little awkward and the design is sort of plain.
You added gold elements to at least make it a bit more cohesive, and sourced extra durable fabrics with lots of movement as apparently the guys have a tendency to damage clothing during fights.
"What do you think?" Jake says, modelling your finalised version.
From the smile on his face, you could tell he's very much satisfied with your work.
"Looks great," you say and you're telling the truth. Although it's not really the tracksuit that looks great, but the man wearing it. His broad shoulders and tight waist, long muscular legs and-
Oops. You silently apologise for objectifying him.
The way your eyes rake over his form isn't subtle, though it's definitely flattering. Jake playfully throws another wink your way.
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fillinforlater · 1 year ago
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Maknae Royale
Male Reader x Jang Wonyoung, Wang Yiren, Lee Gahyeon, Park Sujin (Swan), Jeon Somi, Shin Yuna, Kim Yerim (Yeri), Im Yeojin (9some)
Length: 10.000 words
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Tags: live action porn, porn game, fucking for points, Team Battle Royale, squirting kink, edging kink, bimbofication, brat taming, doggy, fingering, face riding, blue balling, jerking you off, titfuck, standing sex, step-bro I'm stuck, anal, creampie, anal creampie, eating out, blowjob, face fucking, deep throat, rough sex, missionary, full nelson, against the wall, piledriver, mating press, overstimulation, porn_star!you / porn_rookies!idols
TW: even after editing, this is messy and chaotic and pure sex lol
Inspiration: the idea of a Maknae focused fic is not new, but I just went all in. This is also based on this vote I send out a while ago lol. I think I can name drop @writerpeach cuz I remember him saying sth like that.
Credit: @erospandemos for the cover art! Thabk you very much!
(A/N: One year after C.Ollection, I'm trying my best to celebrate and repeat that craziness, have fun! The beginning is a reference to Labyrinth of the Six. This is the same universe but not a sequel!)
-
"I was looking for copper and I found gold!"
You turn off the purring engine of your car. It is clearly not as nice as the purring of the girl you were in balls deep mere minutes ago, but let's be honest, those purrs should not be compared; one is mechanical, the other borderline maniacal. You let out a sigh as you kill the annoying lights in your car to focus on the call you just accepted.
"Hi, is this really how you're greeting me?" you respond, letting your fingers glide over the steering wheel as you watch a single car pass by in the middle of this warm, humid night.
"Oh, man, stop complaining!" the director says and laughs. You can hear him type something on an old keyboard, each tap of his fingers obnoxiously loud. "I'm going to give you the opportunity of a lifetime—something this great, it needs no greeting."
You rub your nose, then the inside of your eyes filled with tiredness and exhaustion. She was needy tonight, you gave her two rounds, 140 minutes of a hard pounding until the clock struck a merciless 3am. Yes, you were counting the minutes, it was necessary. Otherwise Jiwon’s cunt would have drained you early, which is unbecoming of a porn actor of your caliber.
"Look," you halt the director's enthusiasm with a groan. "I'm doing good right now. Money—I got enough; my love-life is good too. Maybe I'll take a break for a couple of months until my next—"
"No, listen!" he shouts in absolute excitement, like he has been enlightened by the truth. "This script, it's so fucking good! It lit a fire in me, I can already see the setting, the actresses, you—it's perfect. This can even top your Labyrinth performance—you remember, the six hotties—"
"Of course I do!" There you go. Your heart beat is picking up in tempo. How could you forget the pleasure, the absolute thrill of having sex with six gorgeous women at the same time? Don’t kid yourself, this already felt like one in a million—to flat out reject another offer that could be of this magnitude would be absolutely foolish. “Fuck it. Send me the script, I’ll get back to you.”
“Oh, you will,” the director says, absolutely certain that you will accept in a heartbeat after reading this ominous script. “I’ll start looking for actresses.”
#
The script is complex, wild, otherworldly—implementing it took weeks of preparation. Luckily, your part in this clusterfuck is rather simple: be hard, go hard and stay hard. The first two are deeply rooted within you. Seeing the girls’ incredible faces and even greater bodies has you ready to get a raging erection at any time, while some of their slutty mannerisms and lewd words dripping from their tongues like venomous drool urge you to go as hard and rough as you can. Hell, they’ll basically beg for you—why would you hold back?
The only issue is that there are too many of them. No matter how hot they are or how horny you are, at some point there is nothing left. You will be drained and there is no shame in admitting defeat to them. So once again, you’ll have to resort to some performance enhancers to stay hard like a diamond while drilling into cave after cave. It’s a pink pill this time, tiny, you barely notice it, both in the palm of your hand and in your throat. Take a deep breath and feel it surely doing its job already. 
You open your eyes in the midst of a studio room that looks like a submarine. Dim light, large, black holes around you, each with a large porthole-like door in the middle; it feels gloomy, mysterious, unsettling. A single camera is pointed at you, live streaming each droplet of sweat running down your face. Feel the artificial warmth of a nearby heater creep up your thin clothes, giving you chills. It cannot match the heat within you.
The red light atop the camera turns off. Sixty seconds from now, one of the portholes will open. The glass in them is blurry, obscuring any view of the chaos happening behind them. You of course know the script inside out, but the girls’ are still somewhat unknown. You’ve never seen them face to face, only in zoom calls, their bodies looked fantastic and because they are rookies, they should also be tight, but you don’t know how they will handle the pressure, all the eyes on them, the revealing outfits, the unbridled sex—
Around thirty seconds now. You grab your trousers and feel blood rushing out of your legs. Feet tingle, the tips of your fingers as well. This pill, it has your heart racing somewhere, racing from something, to anything. Eyes tremble, vision blurrier than the glass before you, behind you, around you. 
You’ve never felt more alive and dead at the same time.
With a loud hiss, the porthole to your left swings open, wide open, flooding your entirely empty room with copious amounts of fog and the smell of fresh fruits. The vibrant color scheme of pastel pink, magenta, light purple and white fills your view as you step into what looks like Princess Peach’s private castle, its kitchen, living room and bedroom. It’s like one explosion of cuteness and innocence, quite charming, very fake.
“Oh, he’s already here. Look, Barbie!”
“That’s not my name, Yiren. Hello, handsome stranger!”
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The two girls fit the concept of the room perfectly. Such bright smiles, happiness pouring from their cute little faces; you knew they would nail this performance the moment you saw their pictures and heard their voices. Wonyoung, the tall girl with her incredibly long legs truly looks like a Barbie doll: tiny ribbons adorn her endless chocolate hair while the pink crop top and straight denim skirt make you want to play with her all night, undress her everywhere.
Yiren on the other hand blends in with the room to such a degree, you’d assume they cannot be sold separately. The chinese girl boasts hair the color of peaches, her tight white dress sparkles because of small, silver details spread across it, while her face leaves no doubt that she is, in fact, a princess. 
The two get closer to you, before Wonyoung starts to speak up again, her voice in a sassy, yet genuinely adorable pitch.
“Aw, are you shy? No need to be, we’re all here to have fun. Isn’t that right, Yiren?”
“You’re right, Barbie. Let’s play some games and make it a night we won’t forget,” Yiren adds, quieter and calmer than Wonyoung, with a smile that warms the heart.
“S-sure,” you respond to the two girls bouncing up and down in front of you like hyped up kangaroos. “B-but what are we going to play?”
“You see,” Wonyoung starts. “Yiren and I are a team and we have a mission to fulfill. Can you help us?”
“I’d love to, but what is the mission?”
Yiren turns towards Wonyoung, who’s already grinning at her. They share a nod and Yiren suddenly wraps herself around one of your arms, while Wonyoung occupies the other. Feel their slender bodies rub on your limbs, their natural heat and rapid heartbeats working towards your own, increasing it with every step they guide you towards a bed in the corner of the room. It’s at least double queensized, filled with pillows, blankets and stuffed animals.
“Let me explain it to you,” Wonyoung says and climbs atop the purple sheets. “Our mission is to make this bed as wet as possible.”
“Well that sounds easy,” you respond. “Just get some tap water and dump it on here.”
“That’s what I thought too,” Yiren whispers in your ear and suddenly places her hands all over your back and chest. 
“No tap water, only natural juices are allowed,” Wonyoung hums and her hands casually open her skirt. It falls on the bed and she is quick to kick it away. She looks even more tempting and ruinable in her tiny tight panties with a wet teddy bear on the front. “We need your help to get these juices out of us, pretty please?”
“Yes, pretty please?” Yiren adds and cups the bulge in your pants. “It will be so much fun, I promise. Doesn’t Barbie look tight? Don’t you want to fuck her until she bursts?”
“Fuck, yes.”
“Splendid,” Wonyoung laughs and throws away her crop top as well. Meanwhile Yiren finds the hem of your pants and tugs them down oh-so easily, the only resistance is your hard member, which Yiren promptly points at her team partner who has her legs spread invitingly. 
She’s so hot.
As if she read your mind, Yiren tempts you into finally going hard:
“She looks so hot. Go fuck her.”
Like a tiger desperate for food, you crawl onto the bed and tackle your prey into a mountain of teddy bears. Your fingers find the very specific teddy bear on Wonyoung’s panties, you push it to the side to find a pink slit. A final look at her glistening eyes before you press your cock onto her equally glistening slit and after some adjustments, you enter her. 
Wonyoung shrieks cutely, her thin fingers wrap around your biceps’ and she holds onto them as you start to slowly pump into her. The two of you need time to realize where you are, what you’re doing, how you’re doing it. All acting for the camera is gone in this bliss, at least for a couple of seconds. Then it all comes back with Yiren, eagerly who jumps on the bed as well.
“You need to hurry up, we don’t have forever.”
You slip a hand under Yiren’s dress to quickly shut her up. No panties.
“How about you start helping, princess,” you fight back. “Go rub Wonyoung’s clit while you ride my fingers. Oh, and Wonyoung.”
“Ye-yes?” the young girl moans.
“Open your mouth wide. I need you to drool on these.”
Both Yiren’s pussy lips and Wonyoung’s normal lips—though their lusciousness and thickness is far from mere ‘normal’—part as soon as your fingers graze them. The latter is quick to slobber all over them while you recklessly pump them into her; Yiren still has reservations and instead opts to look at you with adorable glassy eyes.
“I-I feel so full,” she moans, shivers throughout her entire body. You softly smile at her and start to curl your fingers, purposefully dragging them alongside her walls while your palm reaches her clit. “Ah, i-it feels—”
Holy shit. Whatever chemical they put into this pill, it has a tendency to just kill your patience. In what can only be described as a loss of all control, your body only moves towards fulfilling the mission. Your fingers start to violently pump into Yiren’s pussy and Wonyoung’s mouth, both quickly spilling liquids out of them. Especially Wonyoung, the Barbie girl below you, becomes a dispenser of juices when you violently fuck into her tight pussy.
“Too fast, ah!” Yiren screams, her hands wrapped around your wrist, unable to prevent the surge of lust in your body. 
“Fuck, sorry. I can’t stop me.” You groan, not really sorry about the stuff happening to you, to them and—oh God! Wonyoung’s tiny frame, those cute hard abs, get bulged by your massive erection. A bit of skin and muscles, pushed up by your relentless thrusts, and she is also seeing it. Is she panicking, losing her mind to how you violate almost her entire body?
Her pussy is quick to give you an answer: like a broken, public fountain, she shoots water at you, suddenly soaking your body in her warm pussy juices. With their strong, lewd smell they are the perfect liquid to stain the sheets, more than your balls or her drool can produce. Much to your dismay, most of the nectar gets stuck on you. 
“Fuck, turn around,” you command the thin fuckdoll and because she is too enamored by her heavy orgasm—her tiny thighs and long legs trembling up high in the air—you grab her hips and spin her around. Now in Doggy, you keep her upright by pulling her chestnut colored hair and plunge back into her still twitching cunt.
Wonyoung is completely overwhelmed. Instead of the cute, girlie moans you’d expect from her pretty lips, she grunts uncontrollably, her voice still hoarse from your fingers that played with her mouth. The grunts, however, are nothing compared to the wet sounds coming from her pussy as you thrust into the warm cavern, desperate to get more out of it. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” both you and Wonyoung groan. The tips of her fingers dig deep into a soft stuffed toy while yours knead her soft butt. The sight of it is amazing; not a big dumpy, like you’ve seen on countless actresses, but so flawlessly smooth with an impossibly tiny asshole you one day need to get your tongue into.
“Pl-please, me-me too.”
Yiren crawls closer to you, her skirt pulled up, her cunt a leaking mess that needs something inside it. The live action fucking in front of her has her on the edge, ready to do her part to fulfill the mission, but you are too mesmerized by Wonyoung. 
“Wony, lick her pussy. Get your tongue into her, fuck!” you shout, lost in your frenzy.
The barely thinking, barely functioning Barbie gets her hands onto Yiren’s thighs, at first only breathing, hissing, moaning into the princess’ crotch. It’s enough for Yiren to finally take the lead, forcing Wonyoung’s face straight onto her puffy lips, and the younger surrenders. She kisses and licks all over Yiren’s delicious cunt, the bundle of nerves atop it never left out. Yiren shudders.
“Oh God, oh Go~d, fuck!”
Yiren is louder than a fucking bomb when she explodes onto Wonyoung’s face and more importantly, the bed. Her nectar splashes all over the sheets, their color darkening beneath her knees. Finally, the three of you have made significant progress, and you are eager to make more. Especially Wonyoung seems to be more turned on than before; her pussy is even tighter, her walls ripple as she continues to eat Yiren out. 
“You like that, huh? Your face deep in her pussy?” you ask her and give her cute ass a firm spank. “Such a dirty princess!” 
“Yesh!” Wonyoung shouts, pressing her behind into your pistoning cock. 
“You like my cock fucking you senseless, getting into your insides? You want it all, deeper?”
“Yesh, pleash!”
“Try to push me out, Wonyoung, squeeze me with your stupid little pussy!”
“Ah, shit, fuck! I’m—”
Yiren shuts her team partner up by grinding on her face. It’s enough to send Wonyoung into an orgasmic frenzy—again—and the moment you pull out, she squirts—again—everywhere. It was amazing, absolute bliss for you, but you are not there yet. You need to cum, inside a hot, clenching hole and so you disrupt the two princess’ love making.
Yiren fits perfectly into your hand. She is almost as light as Wonyoung, so you pick her up and place her on the head of the bed. The young woman is still frozen in surprise, her eyes uncertain, then shocked when you spread her legs wide and align your cock with her pussy.
“Oh God, it’s t-too big,” she whines even before you’re inside her.
“You can take it, Yiren, you’re such a good and pretty princess,” you mindlessly groan as you stare at her, then her nipple peeking out above her increasingly bunched up dress. “Now cum all over me.”
Yiren is too easy. Only a few strokes of your cock alongside her velvety walls and her entire body ripples. It starts with her cunt, soon goes to her torso and limbs, before she squirts like a broken garden hose. If the bed was a garden, countless flowers would bloom in it—and Wonyoung wants to make sure you stay to help them. 
“You have to stay,” she whines. “Stay inside her and make her cum again.” She pushes you, forces you to almost slip inside Yiren again. From the corner of your eye however you see a red light, the indicator that you have to switch scenes right now.
“I think I did enough.” You pull away Wonyoung’s slender arms and Yiren’s feet trying to get you back inside her. “Get some toys or use your fingers. I’m not playing for your team, you need to play together.”
Yeah, sure, something like that was in the script. Luckily, even these two remember that the show must go on. At least Wonyoung does. The Barbie gets handsy, waving you goodbye while plunging her beautiful, long fingers into Yiren's cunt. What a waste that you won’t cum on those digits tonight.
"Have fun~" Wonyoung cheers as you disappear from her view, towards the next porthole which is already open.
Before you can take in the next setting fully, a nude, masked woman greets you by pulling your face down into her sizable cleavage.
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"Quick, get him in here," another voice, feminine yet deep, straightforward yet mysterious, calls and you feel hands all over your body, as they drag you into the room. You only catch glimpses of its interior, a dark, unsettling dungeon with iron bars and cold, smooth walls, akin to the setting of certain Japanese videos you—a friend of yours—used to watch—for scientific reasons.
"Here, pin him down."
That voice just now is truly incredible, if only you could see who it belongs to. Unluckily, you only get to see the ceiling as four hands throw you onto a table. Those two are strong, you think, because your back hurts at the impact.
Suddenly, your view gets replaced by a smooth pussy and jiggly thighs trapping your head on the wooden surface. You take deep breaths, the strong smell of arousal quickly filling your nose. A finger boldly flicks your cockhead.
"Oh, you're really turning him on, Gah," the other woman says, your pulsating cock in her fist. "Ride his face, and I think we’ll get our first points soon."
"Wh-who are you?" you barely squeeze out, words drowned out by drowning in Gahyeon's pussy juice.
"I'm Swan, but we don't have time for that. We need to win this game, which is why you have to suffer.
"Sorry, by the way."
Before you can respond, Swan's fist goes up and down your length with the violence and speed of a raging tiger, ready to fucking destroy you. Tears spawn in your eyes, precum at your tip. She drives you to the edge and keeps you there with rhythmic pumps while you imagine her face in horny delight.
"Is he there yet?" Gahyeon asks, her voice raspy and cruel.
"Why don't you ask him?" Swan responds and twirls her tongue around your balls. You twitch.
Gahyeon lifts a leg and her deadly eyes stare through a terrifying mask right at you. "Tell me when you're about to explode,” she snarks and to put emphasis on her following words, she presses a long finger nail into your abdomen. “If not, I'll kill you.
“And start licking, for fucks sake.”
She plants herself back down before you can answer. She can live with your eager tongue on her thick folds as an analogical agreement. Through Gahyeon’s almost soundproof thighs you hear her passionate groans and Swan’s continuous spitting in her hands and on your cock to get you wet and ready for more of her soft hands. 
You can’t deny that they are excellent. Yiren and Wonyoung both had tight, cozy holes, but something about Swan grabbing your dick and mercilessly pumping and twisting it makes your spine tingle. She quickly gets you to arch your back and moan into Gahyeon’s pussy, which has started to glide back and forth over your visage.
“Such a nice cock,” Swan moans. “Look at it, Gah! The head is already burning, I can feel that he’s close.”
Swan puts her second hand on your base and presses her lubed up palm on your underside while she starts to destroy your tip with violent pumps. She is a vicious succubus, trying to get your seed out efficiently without care for your sensitivity. With Gahyeon using your face like a saddle, your mind is left on hold when you loudly tap the table to signal your imminent arrival.
“Swan, now!”
The moment Gahyeon shouts, Swan is gone. No more delicate fingers to hold you, no more fists to jerk you, nothing to stimulate you. You thrust your hips up into air, unable to cum, unable to get your well-deserved release. Those fleeting seconds where you want only one thing are absolutely ruined by not getting this one thing—and then it’s over. You come back down with a devastated sigh. 
“That’s one,” Gahyeon says and looks down at you in between her legs. “But we need more.”
“I agree,” Swan says, adjusting her position in between your shivering legs. “Get him to cooperate, I’ll do the rest.”
Gahyeon once again is faster than your attempts at remonstration. She puts her small hand on your throat and carefully increases the amount of weight on it. You gasp in dread before Swan places your still hard cock in the valley of her enormous tits. The valley then turns to a compressed trap where only your glans peeks out. 
'Oh fuck', you want to, need to scream but it's futile with Gahyeon's enthusiasm to rub her labia on your lips. Swan shows a very similar need to torture you, her hands eagerly digging into the flesh of her melons and moving them up and down—both at the same time, then at different times, faster, then slower but with more pressure—is she trying to get you killed? 
Death by titfuck. That will be an eyecatching epitaph. 
"Do it faster," Gahyeon orders her teammate emphatically. "We need to get the score up."
"I know," Swan says, her voice a bit strained. "It's just unfair, you know? Getting him ready again and all that. But I think, fuck, we’re getting there. Look at his tip, isn't it cute?"
Swan licks the slit on your cockhead, cleaning the precum from it and you have to tap out again. You are so close once more, but a terrible gut feeling lets you doubt that you will cover Swan's tits with your cream. You’ve never felt so sick about being right, when she pops you free from the heavens between her large breasts.
They are right there, God dammit.
"That's number two!" Swan gleefully shouts and looks at your pole, pointing at the sky, sensitive and ready to explode, but your balls turn blue again. This can't be healthy, with how frustrated it makes you.
"Use your mouth this time, Swan—"
"Oh yeah? Why don't you do something for once?"
"Huh? We agreed on this earlier! I'm doing my part! Look, he can't even say a word."
"Pl-please," you interrupt the girls' discussion. "Let me, please, let me cum already!"
"Sorry, pal." Swan's voice is soft, and her tongue on your dick is even softer. "But we need to ruin you even more. That's how we're going to win."
"Th-then ruin your own orgasms," you plead with numbness in your mouth, caused by Swan's mouth on your barely numb manhood. "Th-this is cruel."
"He's got a point," Gahyeon thinks out loud. "Ah, fuck this game. If you can get me close, boy, I'll let you escape."
This might be your only chance to get out of this vicious cycle of ruined orgasm and painful edging. So you actually channel all your focus of your lips, tongue and teeth—whatever Gahyeon likes—on her clit. It's surprisingly easy to make her thighs around your ears squirm; Gahyeon's pussy is now wetter than Swan's mouth wrapped around your cockhead.
Suddenly, Swan gives you everything. She forces you to bottom out in her mouth, grow to full hardness once more while she violently gags. She might have been in absolute control over you for the last couple of minutes, but she is perfectly able to make her mouth a slutty hole for your cock. A soft, dominant deepthroat queen with massive tits—she is going to be a super star.
In a surge of ecstasy, fueled by Gahyeon's sweet juice, you buckle your hips upwards and force Swan to choke a little longer on your length. The young woman is not irritated however. After a single breathe she is back to going up and down you cock, sucking along it until your fucking dead. 
You know she's going to ruin it again and the only way to pay them back is by ruining Gahyeon's orgasm as well. You finger the pussy above you and quickly flick the blood-filled lips and nub, until she cries out. Then you stop, then Swan stops. She is the only one satisfied—another two points for her team.
You blink a couple of times. Gahyeon, groaning like an enraged bull, has the busty Swan pinned to the metal bars of this dungeon and with all her hatred, slaps the younger's wet cunt.
"Now it's your turn, bitch!"
"Ouch, stop!"
"No. I want to win and you want to win too, so you better ruin yourself on my fingers. Now!"
This is your cue to leave. The dungeon fills with Swan's deep grunts and groans as she finally gets to witness what she put you through again and again and again. You'd love to help Gahyeon; there will be no need for it though. The masked girl is willing to do whatever is necessary to win.
Across from the dungeon, the second to last door is already open. The room mimics a dimly lit laundromat with a dozen or so washing machines. You step inside, cock in your carefully stroking hand. After all, you’ll have to be hard for the next scene, which will be the complete opposite of the last. 
“Hello? Can somebody help me?” someone cries (let’s be honest, it’s much closer to a desperate moan) from behind a pile of freshly dried laundry atop a clothes rack. There is a sincere lack of intelligence in that cry, like said person is unable to help themselves. Makes you feel chivalrous. 
“Hey, how can I—help you?”
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The sight you find behind the pile has your speech a bit halted, interrupted by how, in a room made for washing clothes, someone is severely lacking them: A gorgeous, busty blonde, in nothing but modest, white underwear, though you notice that the bra is at least a size too small and unable to fully carry the weight of her tits.
"Oh, please help me," she moans again. "I think I've picked the wrong bra for me. Can you help me cover so no one can see my boobies while I look for the next?"
What the fuck? This is so fucking stupid on so many levels. How could she—and why would she suggest—what is even happening? The cliche about blondes must be true, because this one is not only dumb as fuck, but also hotness at it's peak. From bust to bottom, no, even to her toes, her body is amazing and tempting.
"Uhm, sure, why not. Can I know your name first?" you politely ask while not so politely getting behind her and cupping her breasts.
"I'm Somi. Thank God your hands are so big, no one can see my boobies now, hihi."
Is it innate for her to sound this silly? If not for this setting, you’d be worried; no human can ever be this stupid, only a buffoon would act in such a way. But maybe Somi’s IQ is just a bit lower than the average person—or maybe she knows no boundaries? The rules of public decency and inappropriate, sexual exposure might be foreign to her? You don’t know. You just know that her boobs are soft and bouncy, two handfuls of pillows to rest your head upon, of stress balls to knead when you are, you know, stressed.
You seem to know a lot more than her, especially because she still tries to find a bra able to hold up her breasts in the midst of clothes which all have two things in common: they are colorful and they are skimpy. It’s like the laundry of a whorehouse with how many short and skin tight skirts, dresses, fishnet stockings you find, let alone the short tops or all the lingerie. Speaking of which, Somi has finally found a bikini top that might be able to do the deed your hands are gleefully doing. 
“Do you think this one is good?” she asks, holding up a new, purple bra while you slightly press at the bottom of her tits to watch them wobble on your finger tips. 
“Try it out, because I’m not so sure with your massive boobs.”
Somi giggles and tries to put on the bra. You leave enough room, really, you do, for her to tie up the thin strands, but Somi is unable to. She mewls a couple of times before you go in and securely tie up the strands yourself. You are promptly rewarded, because the blonde decides to bend down and press her ass back against your crotch, your exposed cock, rapidly hard again at the touch of her cotton panties. 
“Thank you, again,” Somi says and pushes her chest up for all to see. “What do you think, is this good?”
“Somi, is it possible that you are fucking stupid?” Oh, that sounded a lot harsher than it should have. The tension is quickly palpable. You hear someone gasp from the other end of the room.
“W-why?” Somi’s question is abashed, a bit shocked; even in this state of complete bimboness, she still looks so good. 
“Because these bottoms don’t fit your top,” you say and pull at the side of her panties until they snap off of her hips. “You should change them. White and purple don’t fit together all too well.”
Somi looks down at her cleavage, the purple lace engulfing her tits, then to her thighs which have been parted by your cock. The tip peaks from in between her legs and you softly groan out the pleasure her perfect gap gives you into her ear. There is no mere hint of slickness from her heat, there are ridiculous amounts of evidence of it, proof spreading all over. It’s a clear case of horniness, you better resolve the issue immediately. 
“You’re right,” Somi mumbles, thighs swaying. “I should look for the right bottoms. They should be in here.” Things couldn’t get any better, because now Somi is bending over, hands in the pile of clothes, while your hands are in the plentifulness of her ass. You hold her steady, align your cock with a hole that looks so ready to get fucked and then push forward. Somi almost stumbles forward, but you save her from making an even greater mess of this place by continuing to make a mess out of her. 
“Oh God,” she moans, a pink crop top in hands. “I-I can’t find it.”
“Continue, continue searching,” you groan back and slam your hips forward, then backwards, your cock entering and exiting her cunt at will—your will is strong, overpowering every small exhaustion in chase of that first true release of this messy pornographic shoot, a shoot where teams fight to win, yet this “team” does not even have a target goal.
Somi’s goal is to be stupid, oblivious to your cock gaping her pussy open time and time again, and for this being her first time on cam, she is excellent. Of course, her dumb moans can’t be deactivated, you doubt even a ball gag can fully do that, but a benevolent interpretation of this scene allows for these moans to be of desperation. Somi just really wants to find these purple bikini bottoms—your cock spreading her pussy and the camera lens on it is just a side product. 
“Da-damnit, fuck,” Somi seems to give up, defeatedly grabbing the edge of the table while you hold onto her shoulders to get faster, deeper inside of her. “They are not h-here.”
“Maybe you need to take a step back and look at it from afar,” you tell her and all it takes is a pull at her shoulders and Somi stands straight up. From now on, your thrusts go upwards and Somi can casually bounce along while her dizzy eyes try to process the color purple amidst a pile so colorful, every pride parade would become envious. 
Your arms instinctively wrap around Somi’s small waist. You need to keep her here, can’t let her get away, not when you are this close to finally cumming. Your balls are aching, your tip is stimulated and you know that it will be glorious. Somi’s body, from a face that could make news just for its beauty, paired with a pair of perky, large boobs, amplified by a tight, muscular midriff, killer hips and strong, full thighs, she has to be everyone’s type. 
People will click on her videos millions of times, yet you are about to be the first to cream her, you can call dibs on that pussy, no male rival co-star stands a chance. Your cock is ready, your legs able to give more power into the final thrusts when suddenly—
“Oh, I found it!”
—Somi leans forward, hand stretched out, ready to grab what has always been on top of this entire pile, in your view forever, in everyone’s view forever, only Somi took forever to find it: purple panties. No, they can’t ruin your perfect orgasm. You heartlessly push Somi against the table, head first into the laundry. Her scream now muffled by a dozen of clothes in her face, you manically fuck your load into her doggy until cum floods her cavern and clothes flood the laundromat floor.
Every part of you is twitching, so is Somi and her pussy. A bit more, a bit more, she squeezes out of you, but she is full. In the midst of all this chaos, this silly, flushed bitch was able to grab the panties. You give her tits a harsh slap to awaken her from the cock induced slumber. 
“Put them on, quick, before we make a bigger mess.”
Somi obliges, though shaky. You help her by holding onto her hips, her tits, all those things you could grab forever. When your shaft falls out of her pussy and you watch her catch most of your load with the tight panties, you want to push them to the side and just fuck her full pussy again. That’s when you notice someone down the aisle of washing machines—is it Somi’s teammate?
“Who the fuck is th—”
“Help, I’m stuck!”
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This one is a classic. A trope so beyond stereotypical, everyone knows it. Just like the dumb blonde, this one can be found on every porn site ever. The only thing missing is that she calls you stepbro. That would be a bit too much though. Her ass sticking out of one of the washing machines while she absolutely tries to get back out of it is already cliche enough to you.
Oh yeah, she’s also completely naked.
“Oh no, Yuna is stuck!” Somi states the exposition for the viewer, who is utterly uninvolved in the engaging plot they stopped paying attention to since this video's thumbnail. “We need to help her!”
Somi waddles towards her partner. You see trails of cum running down her legs,  unceremoniously dropping to the floor and making a lewd, sticky mess of it. She seems unbothered, just like you, and the camera absolutely loves it. The view then switches from this to a new, exposed and impressively large ass.
“Help, help,” Yuna shouts again, metallic reverberation unable to dampen the stupidness in her voice. You had filmed a scene like this one already, but there are no complaints whatsoever. As long as you can get your hands on Yuna’s ass, pull those cheeks apart and get the first view of those two smooth, clean holes, why would you complain?
“How did this happen, Yuna?” Somi asks worriedly, arms alongside Yuna’s frame, definitely ‘pulling’ on her teammate's waist, while your mind imagines all the ways you could rim Yuna for hours.
“I wanted to pull my underwear out of here,” she responds with a whine. “But now I am stuck!”
Go figure, she is brainless as well. Both of them are, but nature has instead given them the envy of millions of women: divine bodies that are effortlessly sexy and beautiful. Smooth skin, toned legs, curves to die for—in your admiration you notice that your energy is returning quicker than ever before. 
It might not fit the story, the narrative, the game, but in this moment of bliss, you couldn’t care less. Knees bend, cock guided by your thumb, you press your tip against Yuna’s ring and find the entry into her asshole to be a lot easier than expected. Her moan bounces through the washing machine just like her boobs bounce in surprise. 
Confusion has Somi frozen, her body only reacting when you put force in your thrusts, enough power to make Yuna hit her dumb head against the back of the washing drum. A profuse whimper made metallic, not that you care, but Somi seems to get back into the real world where she is still as moronic as before. 
“H-how is this supposed to help Yuna?” 
It’s not. Tell her that. Tell her and Somi will continue complaining like this without getting any pleasure from you. Serves her right, won’t make the scene any better though, thus you find her neck with your hand and find her eyes with yours. They sparkle knowingly. 
“You really are the dumbest thing alive.”
A pull and Yuna is out of the drum. Blonde hair flows down her back, hides her frail shoulders and in the reflection of the metal drum you see her lips in a light, glistening pink. They are full and made for sucking. In the sea of her endless, golden hair, your hand twists and twists until Yuna voluntarily raises herself from the ground and arches her back towards you. Your goal is not to kiss her lips (though that would be one hell of an experience) but to drown her in Somi’s cleavage.
“What are you—Yuna! No, don’t pull it down, I-I just found it.”
Sweat evaporates from your temple when you see those lips wrap around one of Somi’s nipples and begin to lewdly suck on it. The thrill is engaging, Yuna’s ass invites you back in and it’s with ease that you fuck her puckered hole. You poke the depths of this suffocating cavern and Yuna begins to poke all over Somi’s body. The dumber blonde hesitates briefly, hands first on her thighs, then Yuna’s until she ends up below her friend. 
“Now you are trapped,” Yuna giggles and drool leaves her mouth in purposefully large amounts, able to transform the valley between Somi’s tits into a canal. 
“You two are so fucking stupid, fuck, fuck your hot bodies.”
You are starting to lose it, for every word they utter, your intelligence gets insulted but your arousal heightened. You spank Yuna’s ass and she tightens to the point where you need to give it your all to fuck her faster. What an odd time to notice that they haven’t told you their task yet. How can you help them get points? Shit, what was in the script again? Are you really that much smarter if you can’t remember?
“Yuna, Yuna, that feels so good,” Somi moans out and sways on the floor from side to side until you press Yuna right on top of her. With their incredible bodies entangled and you nonstop fucking into the tight ass, their sensitive spots have to rub each other, nipples on nipples, clits on clits, and Somi is the first to collapse. “Oh my God, I-I’m about to wet my panties, oh no, Yuna!”
“Me too, my butt, I’m going to cum from my butt!” Yuna’s silly fucked body, and her silly face and her silly feminine voice have you on the verge to become silly as well. Both blonde’s indulge in their wet, heavy orgasms and you push your tip back into Yuna so many times that you flood her with a pent up load that momentarily shuts down your brain.
So this is how they feel all the time—brainless but blissful. At least stupid bitches fuck good.
“Oh, Somi, there, there is so much in my ass~”
“Really? Can I feel it?”
Somi puts two fingers against Yuna’s puckered hole, but before she can get a scoop of your load that is still hidden in the tightly clenching butt, Yuna stands up. “No, Somi, ew,” Yuna shouts, moans, something in between, again. “You have to eat it straight from the butt, like this.”
You are back in the hub room, all the rooms finally open. Before you make your way to the last room, you decide to take a quick look into each scene you’ve already participated in that only users that buy the premium pass (which is off 69%, only today on k-jizzers.cum) can still watch: 
In the first room, Wonyoung and Yiren sit on the edge of the bed, fingering each other's pussies until they violently squirt all over the mattress. Both of them look sweaty and exhausted, but they continue to drink water and share saliva to go for another round. Stay hydrated, everyone.
“Let’s do this, Barbie, I know your tiny body can cum again!”
“O-okay, b-but only if you kiss me.”
In the second room, Swan is fully naked, her backside turned to you. She is tied to the metal bars with handcuffs on both of her wrists. Below her is Gahyeon, thrusting a dildo up into that tiny tight cunt, while her own hole is stuffed with a loud bullet vibrator. They are really committed to this game.
“I swear, Swan, if you cum again, I’ll kick your ass, literally!”
“S-sorry, Mommy, I try, try, try—I’m so close!”
In the third room, well, those blondes finally found a way to snowball your cum, not from mouth to mouth, but ass to mouth. Yuna sits on Somi’s face, head thrown back, unable to not moan as your white spunk oozes out of her. Bon Appetit. 
“Oh God, don’t put your tongue in!”
“But he tastes so good, let me be greedy this one time.”
The final room is a classroom, unmistakably. It has an old blackboard, a long desk for the teacher, smaller desks and chairs for the pupils. No matter when or where you’ve been to school, this will surely evoke memories of forgotten homework, endless lessons and bratty students.
 “Ew, is that the new guy?” you hear someone complain from across the room, disgust in her voice, fingernails rapidly typing on her phone. 
“Oh yeah, but what did you expect? At least he gives some big dick energy,” a response follows promptly, though this time they both look up from their phones and stare at you. You quickly find coverage behind the teachers desk to hide your manhood. A miserable attempt that has one of the girls outraged. 
“Ayo, what the fuck? Do you think you’re some kind of teacher now?”
“Maybe he is here to teach us a lesson, lol.”
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Did the girl on the left, in her messed up blouse and way-too-short checkered skirt, the waistband of a light brown thong on display, just like her midriff and navel—did she just say ‘lol’ out loud? Well, at this point the viewer will neither cringe or notice, too good is this material, too hot their bodies. 
“Maybe he is here to teach you a lesson for breaking the dress code,” the girl adds as she approaches the desk. 
“Yeri, you—you’re worse than me! Everyone can see your bra, what the fuck,” the other girl shouts and goes in for a slap on Yeri’s butt. The impact has you peeking out as a small melee breaks out.
“At least I tried, Yeojin, unlike you. Where is your skirt, your blouse? I can almost see your tits.” Yeri reaches for Yeojin’s chest, which is covered by this tiny, one piece swimsuit, so tiny in fact, even Yeojin’s small body seems to spill out of it. When there is so much shortness, of course Yeojin’s shorts are no different. Her shorts are actually shorter than Yeri’s skirt, which is already quite short—
“You tried?” Yeojin shrieks and tugs at Yeri’s blouse, accidentally undressing her. Who could have known, the bra below is actually a bikini top. “It’s falling off of your body.”
“Ts,
“Hey, you fucker! Get out already, we got some beef to settle.”
Yeri kicks the desk and you hear pencils roll down from it. They surely have not forgotten about you and your assumed big dick energy, so it was no use to continue hiding. You crawl out and straighten your posture, clearly taller than the two young women who don’t waste time looking up and gawking at the height difference. Both sets of hands go straight to your abdomen, your crotch, your cock. Yeojin is the first to pump, rubbing her fishnet sleeves carelessly over your sensitive tip.
“Watch it,” you hiss and get fistfuls of their hair, which to your surprise does not faze them at all. “You two are running your mouth, spewing bullshit. This is no way how you should treat people older and taller than you.”
Yeri frees herself easily from your grasp and you gasp when her knuckles dig into your stomach. It wasn’t really a punch, but somehow, she has you stunned. A smirk appears on her feisty features. “Watch it, asshole. This is our classroom, you’re the one below us. If you want some respect, don’t flex with your height. Flex with something else. Proof your worth.”
“O-oh yeah? And how should I do this?”
“Fuck us,” Yeojin casually says and pulls back the skin on your cock to the point it hurts and all the surging blood forces you to peak stiffness. “You get points for every position, the more creative, the better. Show us that this thing is more ‘do-er’ than ‘show-er’.”
Their eyes are the epitome of ‘fuck-me’ eyes, hell, they imagined fucked you the moment you entered, and in your mind, you’ve fucked them in every conceivable way possible. With all this imaginary fuckery, it’s about due time for the real fucking to start, though it’s definitely bugging you that these small, bratty girls get to start it off and lead the way. 
Guess your positions have to be rough.
“Fine,” you sigh and get ready to push Yeojin down to her knees, but there is no need. She takes the short fall and her lips aggressively wrap around your tip before you can overthink your decision. 
“No need to agree, it wasn’t up to you anyway,” Yeri laughs and you feel her fingers roam your upper body, everything from butt, back, nape to stomach and chest. She lingers there for a long time, cupping your pecs while you imagine cupping her surprisingly big tits—then Yeri dives in and starts to suck one of your nipples, while Yeojin bops her head back and forth. 
“You tiny bitches.” They make it hard to breathe, their sluttiness and sloppiness is excellent, their enthusiasm matches that of Wonyoung. “You greedy, evil little things. You’ll regret that.”
“We’ll see about that,” Yeojin moans when your cock pops from her luscious lips and you’re back to receiving harsh, painful pumps from her fishnet clad hands. “What’s stopping you, huh?”
Nothing, really, so you don’t keep them waiting any longer. You reach into the back of Yeri’s bikini bottoms while simultaneously finding a good grip on Yeojin’s ponytail. A bit of adjusting on both ends, suddenly there is nothing but sounds of horniness, of rampant, uncensored sex. Well, there is of course a lot more than that, but who could think of anything else—
—but Yeojin’s cock-sucking lips sucking cock. They are the only thick thing on this miniscule rookie pornstar. You jerk your hips forward and her nose meets your base. You keep it that way as her tight throat struggles with your size and saliva spills from her lips. 
Yeojin’s gags seem to turn on Yeri, her wet pussy dripping on your fingers as you rub it, never too fast, to keep her on the edge to—yeah, teach her a lesson. Look at that needy face, that heaving bosom, she is so desperate for more stimulation, but could never admit to it. Yeri’s pride keeps her from begging for your fingers to twirl inside her cunt.
“Is that really how you want to do it?” That’s as close to a beg as you will get from Yeri, nonetheless, you’ll give her more rubs. All this struggle is unbeknownst to the viewer, who can only see Yeri’ ecstatic face and wide open mouth as you finally insert two digits in her cunt. “That’s better, fuck.”
“Ride my fingers, Yeri. Impress me, and I’ll fuck you on the desk.”
“You, you will either way,” she chirps back, voice about to break when you thrust knuckles deep and curl, all while making Yeojin your sex doll. 
Those gags of hers have become too dangerous though, so you take a step back and intensely watch as Yeojin coughs up lots and lots of saliva, letting it run down her pretty little face, her throat that was just stuffed like some obscene christmas chicken. In disbelief you watch her wipe her tears away and grin on, as if she wasn't just fighting for her life. Nothing can get Yeojin down, her brattiness is unreal.
Yeri does not seem amused at the lack of attention you give her. She pulls your hand out of her pussy and waddles towards the desk. In a burst of creativity, you grab her and slam her on the desk, on her back. Yeri winces in pain, but you already have her entrance exposed and filled before she can complain. And complain, she shall never again.
“Fuck, so big, be ca-care-ful!”
“Now that’s—oh God, you’re tight—now that’s not what I expected from you,” you groan manically, as you pin Yeri down with both your eyes and hands. “Shut up and take it. I want to see your tits bounce.”
Out of nowhere, Yeojin’s thin hand creeps under the thin string of Yeri’s bikini top and pulls it off. Finally, you can see those modest breasts swing freely while you do what you’re best at: plunging your fat cock into a wet cunt. Yeri moans, in a deep craze, deep pleasure, her hips grind in circles so you have to pin her down harder, hands in the soft flesh above those hips—just fuck faster and lose your mind.
“Yeri, your pussy looks so full,” Yeojin giggles and brushes stray hair out of her friend’s ecstatic face. “Don’t tell me you’re already about to cum?”
“No-no, never—”
“Oh great, cuz I won’t let you,” you promptly say and pull out of that stretched hole, gaped and absolutely desperate for an orgasm that was right around the corner. A few more pumps and Yeri would have been gone, her first on cam climax was so close.
But now it’s Yeojin’s turn. After all you want those points—or is it their points? You don’t care, you just hook your arms underneath her thighs and pick her up. She’s as light as she looks and her pink cavern is as snug as you anticipate. Yeojin holds onto your neck for stability, while you split her open further and further and when she leans into you, you feel your cock bulge her.
“Fuck, fuck, that’s the spot.” Use Yeojin like a fleshlight, an upgrade to her sex doll mouth, and she surrenders to the pleasure. Wasn’t this supposed to be Team Bratty or something? This is more—
“Team Cockhungry, absolute sluts,” you shout at her but Yeojin is just mindless and her lips quiver anxiously whenever you’re not guiding her small body up and down your cock. “Yeri, get on the wall. Present your ass to me, if you want this cock again.”
Yeri nods, only focused on you. She needs a second to find orientation again, while you make Yeojin lose all orientation as you spin her around and fuck her full nelson. An insane idea by the producers, stand and carry sex for the finale, but with a girl this small, it’s actually possible. You are still the unrestrained engine that pistons and pistons until Yeojin is ready to burst.
“Not yet, not yet,” you coo as you ruin yet another orgasm. A wet pop when you remove yourself from what could be a perfect hole for cockwarming, breeding and many other lewd adventures. The industry will empty their pockets to get a video with this pocket pussy girl. But for now, she is all yours and quite dismayed.
“You, you dick, better make it up later,” Yeojin says, voice deeply judgemental. It has to be ignored, because first, you have to make it up for a certain someone who wasn’t satisfied with your fingers or a short missionary fuck. Yeri needs you again, deep and hard, while her fragile legs try to keep her upright.
You watch the side of her face, the lip bite, the palms flaking off the wallpaper, the thighs trapping you and your cock is already on her labia. Yeri rubs her love juice all over your rod and you follow her plea and take the lead with a thrust that can be heard around the world.
“Fuck, it’s deep, your cock is deep in my pussy.” The disbelief in her voice sounds genuine, just like the attempt to crawl up the wall to drop back down on your cock. Yeri wants you to hit her cervix, finally cumming all over you but you need to savor this position more.
“Deeper than anything else.” A hand in her hair, you press everything of her against the wall. “I know you like it deep, your best spots are there. You’re a slut for large cocks, you only want them while standing up.”
“No, I need them to pick me up! Lift me up and fuck me, break me open deeeeep!”
Yeri must have been so envious of Yeojin. You might have picked the wrong girl to lift on high and fill from below. You can still make it up though; Yeri’s tits are repurposed as handles to pull her back onto your chest, feet suddenly flying. You might be blinded by strands of her hair all over your face, but you can still feel the weight of Yeri down on your cock, while you’re still drilling into her. She is getting higher, not only physically, but mentally. She loves nothing more than to be watched while a huge shaft fucks her. The stimulation sends her into a sea of bliss, a deep ocean, like the puddle of girl cum beneath your feet. 
“I’m going to cum on your cock,” Yeri screams and tries to choke out a load from your balls, yet all she is choking you with is her hair on your face. “I love it, y-you can finish with me—”
The last time the camera captured someone cum so hard was about thirty minutes ago, either Wonyoung or Yiren, but unlike Team Princess next door, Yeri does it involuntarily. You pound the squirt out of her sloppy cunt until your legs become a slippery lubed mess and you almost slip on the cheap classroom floor. Yeri shouts and whines, the inside of her pussy still rippling when you pull out of it.
When you place Yeri back against the wall and feel the somewhat cold studio air brush past your erection, you realize that Yeri was close to getting you off too early. You are throbbing, surfing on the edge, almost getting blue balled. The only thing that can save you is Yeojin and the only thing you see is her ass, as she props herself up on all fours in between the chairs of—
Who counts chairs and who fucking cares? Just slam your cock into her ass and hear her screech in shock at the sudden fullness of her back entrance. There will be no ruined orgasm for you this time, Yeojin’s ass is your guarantee and you doubt her brattiness will return. Not when she moans so submissively. A question remains as you bury yourself repeatedly in Yeojin’s rectum: how can she be shocked when it's all lubed up and relaxed and eager to take you back inside like the pussy of a veteran porn star?
Yeojin really was born for this job. Her petite frame will be perfect for various porn sites related to kinks: size difference, stand and carry, small tits. The videos of her getting bulged will become legendary amongst the horniest or Reddit and Tumblr communities. Guys will have their way with her, her head will be spinning after some huge guys have her unconventionally spitroasted in the air or one of those tall, muscular women takes her for a ride on a strap-on. 
They won’t have to worry about anal from her, because Yeojin takes it legendarily, narrowing at just the right time to go beyond the audio-visual perfection that is her penetrated ass—in simpler words, it feels as good as it looks. She can rival Yuna or maybe form some butt slut dream team, that’s how fucking amazing fucking her ass is.
“Yeri get back here, I’m close,” you promptly announce whilst scoring again by forcing Yeojin into a prone position and marking her shoulders with tender bites. Yeri struggles to find footing, only able to push forward because of all the tables and chairs. When she finally reaches you, you give Yeojin your final pumps as her entire frame is struck by an orgasmic earthquake. 
In this day and age, everything has to be fast, even porn has to fit the 15 second shorts, reels, tiktok culture, so you start to cum in Yeojin and push Yeri to the ground at the same time. Then you reach for Yeri’s butt while holding back as many spurts as you can, to get her in this sweet piledriver and then paint both the outside and inside off her petite yet bubbly ass. It’s perfect for a short clip, that little teaser that plays when you’re about to click on the next JAV thumbnail on that shady site.
The HD or 4K settings across all screens can never do the real sight of a blissfully filled Yeri justice, as she eagerly spreads her own cheeks and everyone gets the awesome view of cum that seeps out of a gaped ass. The upside down (pretty, little, risky) baddie cleans off that hard-working cockwith her formerly bratty mouth. Deep exhales through her nose send a nice, warm stream of air around your base, which finally loses stiffness, the tension, it comes crashing down in the well-known post-nut clarity.
In this clarity however, you find Yeri’s final defiance; her lips will not let go of your cock and her tongue on your sensitive slit makes you curl your toes and whine out the agony which shoots up to your head like electric shocks. To top it all off, you feel Yeojin grin behind you when she wraps her slender arms around your midriff. This wasn’t in the script!
“The shooting might be over,” the tiny girl whispers. “But we are not done with you.”
“There are still a lot of points to be collected. 
“And you will collect all of them.”
2K notes · View notes
pathologicalreid · 11 months ago
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next of kin | S.R.
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disaster strikes and you and Spencer try to take custody of your younger sister
part two
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: actually might be gn! but i'm too scared to say it is. death, orphan-ing, funerals, child custody issues, blood, general cm violence, like actually an abhorrent amount of death. sorry i killed your parents for the sake of my fanfiction can we still be friends? word count: 3.33k a/n: this is the fic that this post is about. i am in fact my own worst enemy. i hope y'all like it actually genuinely i am most definitely overthinking this. if your name is maya im sorry that sucks.
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“What did your parents say?” Spencer asked, walking into the conference room that the local precinct had offered to you.
You had been staring blankly at your phone since you got off the call with your mother, “Uh, they said thanks, but no thanks.”
The uneasy feeling had settled in your stomach as soon as you found out the team was being called to your hometown, and you had been nauseous ever since you found out the UnSub’s pattern.
Married couples with an older child who had moved out and a younger child who was still at home.
Your little sister was a surprise, you had incorrectly assumed your parents were done having kids.
Until today, you wouldn’t have traded Maya for the world, but now you sat in fear of your family being targeted by a serial killer. Hotch had offered them a protective detail, but they declined. Self-righteous as they were, they told you it wouldn’t feel right for them to accept help that couldn’t be offered to everyone.
Clenching your jaw, you stood at the table, “I’ll go by later and check in on them.”
Spencer had met your family twice by now. Last Christmas he had tagged along to meet them and celebrate with your family before the two of you spent New Year’s with his mom. Then, while your sister was on Spring Break, they flew out to Virginia, and you and Spencer had shown your family around Quantico and the District.
Maya had loved Spencer, partially because you loved him, but mostly because of his magic tricks.
“Do you want me to go with you?” He asked, stepping up next to you and placing a hand on the small of your back.
You sighed and shook your head, “No, not if you’re needed here.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, smiling softly, “Thank you for offering, Spence.”
He nodded affirmatively, “If you change your mind,” he offered. Gently, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before the two of you returned to the rest of the team.
The fact that your parents lived only five minutes from the police station gave you some relief, but you still felt tightly wound. Everyone had noticed. You just needed this case to be over.
The porch lights were on when you got there, and you used your house key – which you had never taken off of your keychain - to open the front door. “Hey, kiddo,” your dad greeted from the couch. A peek into the kitchen showed you that your mom was wiping down the counters. It all felt so eerily normal.
It was dark by the time you had gotten there. Maya was already asleep, but you tip-toed into her room anyway and kissed her goodnight before going back downstairs. Once you had hugged both of your parents and told them you loved them, you made your way back to the police precinct.
By nearly three in the morning, there was no new information, and the team was starting to consider calling it a night until the police chief got a call.
“We just got a call. Lady reported shouts coming from her neighbor’s house at 86 Meadowbrook,” he informed you, putting his hands on his hips and looking around at the team.
None of them even spared him a returning glance, everyone’s eyes were on you.
Blinking rapidly, you nodded assuredly, “I have to go get Maya.” You didn’t even recognize your voice even as you said it. It couldn’t have been your voice. That was the rasp of someone far away from you.
All of the other voices around you were muffled, you couldn’t hear what people were telling you, let alone understand them.
Maya. Maya. Maya.
Brown eyes. There they were, right in front of your face. “Let’s go get her,” Spencer whispered.
You had been speaking out loud. Repeating your sister’s name like a prayer without even realizing it.
Hotch let you go with them, but he made it abundantly clear to you – and the rest of the team – that you weren’t working this case anymore.
Surrounded by reverent voices in an SUV, JJ drove while Spencer stayed in the back with you. He held your hand tightly in his.
The house was closed off with police tape. Bright yellow plastic fluttered in the wind as you watched your team and other emergency personnel enter and exit. At your insistence, Spencer went in to get Maya, it felt like it had been hours before he walked out, carrying her in his arms.
Carefully, he brought her to you, and you pulled her close to your chest, blocking her eyesight as two body bags were brought out of the house.
You didn’t hear anything after that. You just let yourself be moved to wherever you needed to be, holding your kid sister as she cried for your parents.
They had to take their bodies to the hospital even though they were already gone, and you needed to be the one to confirm their identities. Spencer stayed with Maya while you were busy. She had cried herself to the point of exhaustion, you were grateful that she was sleeping, and then you felt cruel.
By sunrise, she was still asleep, and you had been set up in that same conference room from earlier. Sitting across from you was a social worker, a representative of the state. Your lips had parted in shock as you looked at her, “What do you mean they denied my request?”
In an attempt to be helpful, JJ worked with you to file an emergency request for custody of Maya, and the case worker had just told you that the request was denied. “The state doesn’t believe your request is valid,” she told you.
Your mouth went dry, “I don’t…” you glanced over at your little sister. “Our parents were murdered last night, and they won’t let me take custody of my sister?” You asked indignantly, peering at the social worker. It wasn’t her fault, somewhere in your grief-ridden brain you knew that, but you couldn’t help the feeling that she was somehow your enemy.
“They don’t believe you can provide her with a stable living environment,” the social worker, Brittany, explained.
Narrowing your eyes, you responded, “A stable living environment like a foster home? I’m her sister. We’re family – the only family each other has left.” You stood up, excusing yourself for a moment before walking out of the precinct. Once you were outside, you promptly hurled into the bushes.
That was how he found you, to the side of the building with your hair haphazardly moved out of your face, dry heaving into the shrubbery. Gently, Spencer placed a hand on your back before starting to rub small circles on your back, “You should eat something, love.”
You just shook your head in response, you weren’t hungry. “They won’t let me take her,” you whispered morosely, straightening up, you kept your back facing him.
“What?” He asked, his hand abruptly stopping its movement on your back.
Taking a deep breath and sitting on the curb, you looked up at Spencer. “The state thinks I’m not stable enough to take her in,” you said, resting your chin in your hands.
Your boyfriend crouched down so that he could sit next to you, “Are you going to challenge it?”
“Of course I am,” you cried. “But what happens to her in the interim, Spence? She gets placed with whatever foster home here and I go back to Virginia? I see her when the family court resolves this in two years?”
Treading carefully, Spencer cleared his throat, “What are you going to do?”
Defeated, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m…” your voice trailed off. “My parents are dead, Spencer,” you murmured softly, tears welling in your eyes.
He reached out and wrapped his arms around you, “I know, darling. I know. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t think I can do this alone,” you whispered, leaning gently into him.
Spencer turned to kiss your temple, “It’s a good thing you’re not alone then. I’m not going anywhere.” He waited for a moment before continuing, “Give me something to do. Give me a job to take off of your shoulders.”
In the end, you let Spencer take over funeral planning. He thanked you for trusting him before the both of you went back into the precinct.
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You had just hung up with a family lawyer who had offered to take your case, letting your phone drop to the floor, you let your arms hang at your side. Someone had taken Maya to get breakfast while you spoke with the lawyer.
At the sound of the phone falling to the floor, Spencer stepped into the conference room, letting the door click shut before him. “Hey, what did he say?”
Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you took in a deep breath, “Um, he said he’d be willing to take the case if I could put together a case plan to present before the judge.”
Before that phone call, you didn’t know what a case plan was, you could’ve gone your whole life without knowing what a case plan was.
“I need a year-long plan for how I’m going to prepare to have Maya in my custody, but he said a year is the best he can do,” you said, staring blankly at the wall ahead of you. “A year?” You whispered aimlessly, “I’m not waiting a fucking year to take custody of her. I have to take her home, Spence. I have to.” It wasn’t your intention to snipe at him, but you felt like you couldn’t help yourself.
The events of the last twelve hours threatened to take you down, but you had to stay strong for Maya.  
Taking a shaky breath, you looked up at Spencer, “Why is it that every time I convince myself that it’s going to be okay, I get tossed to the ground again?” You asked him.
Maybe because you weren’t fully convinced. Maybe it was because it had only been seven hours. You needed to remind yourself of that.
“She’s a ward of the state?” Spencer asked for clarification, holding you tightly.
Nodding absentmindedly, you rested your head on his shoulder as he swayed gently. “She can stay with me until after the funeral, and after that, she has to go with the social worker.”
The sad look on Spencer’s face told you that he was running out of ideas, and you were coming to the very same conclusion. “We could get married,” he offered.
“Stop, Spence,” you said, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe this was where he was going.
He shrugged helplessly, “I’m serious, Y/N. If we get married, they might think we’re stable, as a couple. They might give us custody.”
Your shoulders slumped, “I don’t want to get married just to get custody of my sister.” It certainly wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry Spencer, just not like this.
He nodded understandingly, “I know, but I’m just saying. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it.” Placing a comforting hand on your knee, the two of you sat in silence for a moment. “Do you have any ideas?” He asked you carefully.
Looking through the blinds of the conference room, you saw the rest of the team coming back to the precinct. Setting your jaw, you nodded, “I might.”
Opening the door, you had Maya go in with Spencer while you approached your Unit Chief. “Hey,” Hotch said, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. “How are you holding up?” He pulled you away from the people, wanting to give you privacy.
This wasn’t fair, they were still working on an active case. A case that was disturbingly close to you, and yet, you felt you were out of options. “I need a favor,” you blurted to him, wringing your hands. Your nervous energy made it impossible for you to stay still.
Hotch nodded, “What do you need?” He asked, studying your composure with the eye of a profiler.
You took a deep breath, “I was… I need you to call in a favor with someone. Anyone, really. The state won’t let me take custody of Maya, but I can’t let her become a ward of the state. Not when I’m right here, ready, willing, and able to take her.”
“Okay,” he responded, not even pausing to think about it.
Taken aback, you looked at him curiously, “I- that’s it? I had groveling prepared.”
He nodded almost imperceptibly as if he was trying to tell you it wasn’t necessary. “You’ve been a part of this team for years and not once have you ever asked for anything in return for everything you do for everyone else. This is the least I can do,” he told you.
You couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed, you tackled Hotch in a bear hug, “Thank you.” Your voice was low, “Thank you so much.”
Succinctly, Hotch hugged you back before you pulled away, “I’ll go make some calls.”
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It was the smell.
The smell that you’d sensed countless times before on the job, the metallic tang of the blood. It should’ve been mostly dried by now – you supposed you were more susceptible to the scent, considering it was your parent’s blood, but it put you on high alert.
Emily had brought you by so that you could pack a bag for Maya, but you found yourself stuck on the landing. To one side, there was your childhood bedroom and Maya’s room. On the other side, there was your parent’s room.
“Y/N?” Emily called your name from downstairs, “Are you alright?”
No, you wanted to say, but you bit your tongue, scanning the house you had grown up in. “This doesn’t belong here,” you told her, glancing behind you as she made her way up the staircase.
You didn’t have gloves, so instead you pointed at the figurine that was resting on the bookshelves, a little bear facing in the direction of your parent’s bedroom door. “This is in the wrong spot?”
Nodding, your eyes followed the ceramic bear as Emily picked it up with a gloved hand. “It’s mine, it should be in my room,” you informed her. Your parents never changed anything about your childhood bedroom, not since you moved out. “It was like it was watching them,” you thought aloud.
“Do you think the UnSub did it?” She asked you gently, her voice was low but steady.
Blinking rapidly, you kept your eyes focused on the figurine, “Little Bear,” you murmured, “They called her Little Bear.”
Emily shook her head in confusion, dark hair swaying as her head moved. “Who was called Little Bear?”
Dropping the bag you had packed to the floor, you buried your face in your hands, “I should’ve seen it sooner.” The victimology, it all suddenly made sense to you. “When I was a kid, there was a family like mine. A brother who was in his twenties when his parents had another baby, a girl. They called her Little Bear.”
Realization dawned on Emily’s dark features, “Like this bear?”
You picked up the bag and started making your way back down the stairs. “Their mother made those figurines. The parents died in a fire two weeks ago – they left everything to the younger sister. It was all over the news. God, I should’ve figured it out sooner.”
“Hey,” Emily said sympathetically, “You had other things going on. None of this was your fault.” Her voice was stern, harsher than you’d ever heard her, as she pulled out her phone and called the team.
Your teammate drove, passing the police station on the way to drop you off. They left for the takedown, and you felt yourself floating into the precinct. Maya was waiting in the conference room for you, watching cartoons on someone’s laptop.
Kneeling in front of your little sister, you tapped the space bar, pausing the video. “Hey, kiddo,” you whispered, reaching over, and smoothing her hair away from her face. “How are you feeling?”
She had cried herself to sleep earlier, and you felt like you hadn’t been around enough. Maya sat up on the couch and rubbed her eyes, they were red, but not teary. “I miss mommy,” she told you, pouting slightly.
You nodded gently, moving to sit next to her before you pulled her into your lap. At six years old, she was all gangly limbs, just starting to grow into her own person. Just old enough to understand death, “I know, baby. I miss them too.”
“They wouldn’t lemme go home,” she continued, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I wanted Thumper,” she whined, sounding younger than she was.
Looking up at the light, you silently begged for your tears to go away. “I got him for you,” you told her, reaching into your bag and producing the small stuffed bunny that you had given her as a baby.
You savored the way her eyes lit up as she grabbed the stuffed animal from you.
“So, you and Thumper are gonna come to stay with me in Virginia. Do you remember going there? You said you liked it?” You kept smoothing her hair back as she held her toy.
She was silent for a moment, “Will Spencer be there?” She asked quietly.
Smiling slightly, you nodded, “He and I live together, so he’ll be there with us.” Slowly, you started rocking back and forth, trying to soothe the both of you simultaneously.
“As long as he doesn’t pull money out of my ear,” she answered succinctly, shutting her eyes as she leaned up against you.
There was approximately an hour before you watched the team return to the precinct, slowly, you laid Maya down on the couch before walking out. “It was a clean shoot,” you heard Rossi tell Morgan, and one look at the rest of them told you everything you needed to know.
The team went back to the hotel, and Spencer filled you in on the funeral arrangements he had made on your behalf. You were about to try to get some sleep when Hotch approached you and told you he needed to speak to you.
“I called a good friend of mine on your behalf, and he gave me some information. We were able to work out a plan,” he told you, sitting across from you in the hotel lobby.
You were about to tell him that a case plan wouldn’t work, but he held his hand out, telling you to wait.
He nodded before he kept going, “He was able to file an emergency request to grant you temporary custody of Maya, and it was granted.”
You felt sick to your stomach, “She’s mine?”
“Temporarily, you’ll have to take care of some formalities back in Virginia, but you have full custody of her,” he informed you. “You’re being granted family leave, and I’ve encouraged Reid to apply for it as well,” Hotch told you, reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I am… I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through this but thank you for coming to me when you needed the help.”
You nodded absentmindedly, your head still whirling with the information that you had just been given. Stumbling, you walked back to your hotel room that you were sharing with Spencer and Maya.
The funeral was planned, the custody issue was solved, all there was left to do was…
“Baby?” Spencer said softly as you swung open the door, “Everyone else took Maya to get ice cream, I figured it couldn’t-“ his voice broke off at your first sob.
Everything you had held in came bursting out, all of the grief and stress and exhaustion nearly knocked your legs out from underneath you.
But Spencer was there to catch you.
part two
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1K notes · View notes
lovecla · 5 months ago
Text
IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.
epilogue:
how soph got her inspiration to write ‘juno’
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<last chapter>
➴ warnings: smut (unprotected sex, breeding kink, cock warming, aftercare, creampie, p in v, slightly degradation.), mentions of dad!jack and mom!reader, mentions of ovulation, domestic soph and jack.
➴ word count: 2.9k
➴ author’s note: inspired by ‘juno’ by queen sabrina and also by the videos of jack with kids on my fyp. i am sorry for being a whore but also, not really. enjoy! ♡
BEING a mom wasn’t something that you thought you wanted.
You’d always say that, ever since you were a little girl, when your sisters talked about how they wanted to marry a nice guy and have two point five kids— all girls— and name them after Disney princesses. You’d just stare at them weirdly and go back to pretend you were doing some interview for The Tonight Show with Jay Leno.
And Jack shared the same opinion— you knew that he wanted kids but it wasn’t a priority on his list. He never really mentioned them, not like Quinn, who was always talking about how he wanted to be a great father, just like Jim is.
But the thing is, you never really cared about being a mom, or making Jack a father for that matter, until you saw how Jack acted around kids.
First, it’d been with your nieces, Aurora and Jasmine. Back in 2023, you’d invited your mom, your stepdad, your sisters and their families to spend the New Years with you and Jack’s family. It was a huge mess, the house was packed with people but you were so happy to watch your favorite people— the Hughes and the Montenegro— get along with each other that the lack of space wasn’t an issue at all.
Then, you introduced your nieces to Jack.
“My babies,” you smiled, picking the four-year-old up, noticing how big she’d gotten since the last time you saw her. “This is Auntie’s boyfriend, his name’s Jack. Can you say hi?”
Aurora looked at Jack with big, bright eyes, and you could tell she was enchanted with his warm smile and blue eyes.
Jasmine stood behind your legs, the seven-year-old also staring at him with curious eyes.
“Hi, uncle Jack,” Jasmine whispered, holding your leg tighter. You gasped, not expecting her to call Jack ‘uncle’ so soon. He also looked surprised, but just for a second, before he went down on one knee and offered the little girl his hand.
“Hey, honey,” he replied back, shaking hands with the seven-year-old. “Nice to meet you and your sister.”
Aurora was looking down, the pacifier in her mouth moving around, until she finally decided Jack was worthy of her attention, moving her body towards the floor, signaling that she wanted to be down there with him.
You chuckled, sitting on the floor with them, watching as Aurora crawled her way to Jack’s lap, offering him her Maleficent plush she carried around everywhere.
“Oh, you want me to hold this?” He asked, voice gentle and funny. He picked her up and held the toy with his other hand, still smiling. “Thank you, Imma keep it safe. Jasmine, you wanna share your toys with me too?”
Jasmine ended up rambling about how she was too big for toys and that now she was only interested in singing like her auntie, which made you laugh and confess that you played with Barbies until you were twelve.
Jasmine and Aurora absolutely loved Jack. And you could see that he loved them right back, with how much attention he gave them, playing with them the entire night and answering all of their— mostly Jasmine’s— noisy questions. And when you were sitting on the couch, talking with Ellen and your mom, you watched with heart eyes as he leaned against the wall, talking to Quinn and Luke while holding a sleeping Aurora in his arms, gently rocking her back and forth, while covering her with her blanket.
After that night, you started noticing how he acted around kids. Either when he went to hospitals to visit the sick children who rooted for the Devils, or when he went with you to your concerts and interacted with the few kids there.
The way he picked them up, answered their questions, held their hands— it definitely did something to you. Not only to your brain, but to your entire body. You could always be sneaky and blame your ovulation for being a whore, but truth be said: the idea of Jack getting you pregnant was hot, even if it wasn’t something you wanted right now.
You were sitting on Quinn’s couch, watching as Jack held one of his cousins in his arms and talked to a man who was probably one of his uncles.
He looked so fucking good. His hair was a bit shorter, and he was getting bigger now, probably due to the fact that he spent too much time at the gym with Luke.
You were trying to continue the conversation with Ellen, answering her questions about your music and fans, but it was extremely hard. Jack being only a few feet away from you didn’t help, at all.
“Are you feeling okay, Soph dear?” Ellen put her hands on your knees, squeezing them slightly.
You turned your head back and smiled, deciding to tell her a half-truth. “Just a little tired and jet lagged, that’s all. Don’t worry, ma’am.”
She laughed, as she always did whenever you called her that.
“Do you want to take a nap in Quinny's room? He won’t mind.”
You felt bad because now your mother-in-law thought you weren’t feeling well but the full truth was you were just very much horny and wanting her son to fuck you.
“There’s no need for that, I’ll just wait until Jackie is ready to head back,” you nodded, looking at Jack again, who was now trying to put the baby to sleep— and failing miserably, since all the kid wanted was to remove his cap from his head.
“I’m going to talk to Jack so you both go home, okay?” She replied and before you could even stop her, she got up and walked towards Jack.
You watched as she picked the baby out of Jack’s hand and said something to him, while pointing back at you. Jack turned his head to the side and looked right back at you, and you could see that he was starting to get worried.
He nodded at something that she said, and quickly kissed her on the cheek, walking back at you.
“Hey, baby,” he greeted, holding your hand and gently pulling you closer. “Mom said you weren’t feeling well. Why didn’t you tell me, Soph?”
“I’m fine, I just—” what would you even say? Hey, I’m horny and I need you to fuck me? “Hum. I can wait until you’re ready to go.”
“Nah, let’s go now.”
You barely recall the time between saying goodbye to everyone, getting in the car and heading back to Jack’s place. You spent the entire time trying to stop the wetness between your thighs and praying that it wouldn’t stain Jack’s car seat, squirming around.
“What’s the matter with you, baby?” He chuckled, placing his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly.
You didn’t answer, just tried to keep your mind in pink unicorns and old grandmas. No horny thoughts allowed until you were both at home.
Which, thankfully, didn’t take long. Jake parked inside of his garage, and you got out of the car like your ass was on fire.
“Sophia!” You heard him yell at you, before you opened the front door with your keys.
You didn’t make it too far, he grabbed you by your waist when you were making your way to his bedroom. “Soph, what is wrong with you today, baby?”
You whined, not sure of what to say. “Jack?”
“Yeah, baby?”
You stand on the tip of your toes and kiss him, your tongue fighting for space inside his mouth. He kissed you back just as ferociously, his grip on your waist becoming harder.
“‘Want you to knock me up,” you mumbled against his lips, watching as his blue eyes stared down at you, full of lust. “N-not really, but… please?”
He smirked. “You wanted to leave my brother’s house because you wanted me to knock you up?”
Well, when he put it like that…
“What a fucking slut, baby,” Jack whispered, gripping your ass with his right hand. “Just because you wanted me to make you carry my children?”
“Jack.” You moaned, holding onto his hoodie for dear life.
“You want me to make you a mommy, Soph?” Instead of letting you answer, he kissed you again, picking you up and walking with you, without breaking the kiss.
He managed to get you both in his room, and placed you on his bed, quickly taking his clothes off— the hoodie, the jeans, the shirt and then the boxers. His dick stood there hard and thick, the tip so red it was almost purple, leaking pre-cum.
You actually moaned just with the sight of it. The need of Jack’s cock inside of you, in and out, putting you in the right place, made you sweat.
You took off your own hoodie and your own shirt, thanking God for the past-you who chose not to wear a bra that day. Your nipples were hard and sensitive, just like they always are during ovulation week, that just the cold breeze inside the bedroom made you shiver.
You removed your jeans and stared at your situation, feeling disgusting and extremely horny at the same time— your panties were so wet that they were completely see through now, the thin layer of fabric doing nothing to cover your pussy.
“Jack,” you moaned again, feeling frustrated. “‘Need you.”
“I can see that, baby,” he smirked, towering your body with his. “I’ll take care of you, mhm?”
You nodded, kissing him one more time because you couldn’t get enough of his lips.
He removed your panties and threw them somewhere, the sound of something wet crushing against the floor filling up the room, making you cringe. Ovulation sucks.
He broke the kiss, moving on to your tits, sucking and biting and groping them, which didn’t help with the problem between your legs.
Jack finally let go, positioning himself so that he could be inside you in a quick, swift move. You moaned, feeling finally full and satisfied.
“Fuck, Soph, you’re so fucking wet, baby,” he breathed in your ear as he pounded inside you, as if you couldn’t hear the pornographic sounds whenever he sank deeper inside you. “All of this just because you wanted my kids? You could’ve just asked, uh, y’know?”
You wanted to reply so bad, tell him that it was just your post-period brain being absurd and crazy, but you had already reached that place inside your head you craved so much, the silence, the calmness— every thought being shoved inside a drawer and the only thing on your head was how Jack reached deep inside you, and how you could feel him in your belly, and how much you loved him and how you wanted to be the mother of his children so badly.
The saltiness of your tears inside your mouth made you realize that you were fully crying, as you often did whenever Jack took you to the right place. All you wanted to do was let him take care of you, and hand your life to him on a silver platter.
“Does it feel good, baby?” He sucked on your right nipple, fucking you so hard the mattress was moving. “Knowing that you’re gonna be a mommy? Carry my children and have my last name?”
You nodded even though you wanted to speak, but your tongue felt glued to the roof of your mouth and your mind was busy conjuring images of Jack holding babies who looked like the perfect mix between the two of you, and being the greatest dad ever and you wanted that so, so much.
“Can’t even speak, fuck, baby,” He mocked you, rubbing your clit furiously, making you scream and try to close your thighs— no success, since Jack’s body made it impossible. “None of that, Soph.”
You knew you probably looked like a mess; hair tangled, face wet with tears and probably spit too, tits marked and with his handprints on them, but it didn’t matter. All you wanted was JackJackJack.
You came with an obnoxiously loud scream, legs trembling and eyes rolled to the back of your head, while Jack still rubbed your sensitive, swollen clit and slammed his cock inside you.
You clutched the sheets like your life depended on it, head going side to side, eyes closed the entire time, until you felt the familiar sensation of Jack’s come deep inside you.
“Good God, Soph,” Jack sounded out of breath. “Fuck.”
You still didn’t feel ready to speak, the tears still rolling down your face, so you just waited until he moved around, laying down and bringing you with him, his dick softening inside of you, something he knew you liked to have after sex.
He kissed your forehead and put the duvet on top of both of you, as you slowly came back to life, listening to his heartbeat and counting your own breaths.
“I love you,” you mumbled, wanting nothing more than a nap.
He chuckled, before kissing your forehead again. “I love you too. D’you think we’re going to be parents now?” He joked, and you smacked his chest, lightly.
“Don’t be silly.”
He just hummed, deciding to leave you alone (for now) and removing himself from you instead. You winced, feeling his cum coming out of you, as you clenched around nothing.
Jack then picked you up, and walked with you to the bathroom, making sure that you peed before showering. He left the bathroom for no more than a minute, just to give you some privacy— he knew that even after all this time, you were still embarrassed to pee in front of him— and came back with your favorite pajamas: cotton panties and an old NJ Devils shirt.
You smiled, seeing his name and number plastered on the back of the shirt, remembering the night you first met, and how pissy he was because you were wearing Nico’s jersey.
It feels like a lifetime ago.
“Ready, baby?” He asked, blue eyes staring so deep into your soul that you had no option but to agree with everything he said.
He gently held your hand, guiding you until you were standing inside the big shower stall, the warm water untying all the knots in your body.
You leaned against his body, both of you under the water now, humming as he cleaned you, with your favorite vanilla scented body wash— which he secretly loved more than you.
His hands work slowly and gently, spreading the soap on all of your body, and you just stand there, accepting it and hiding your face as you feel his fingers entering you again, removing his release.
You should be used to it by now but it was still a foreign feeling, being so well taken care of sometimes still scared you, but Jack was nothing but patient.
You watched as he cleaned his own body, not using even half of the gentleness he used with you, which made you smile. If you weren’t so tired, you’d offer your help, but right now all you wanted was to sleep beside him.
He turned the water off and got out of the shower first, wrapping a towel around his hips. He smiled at you and picked up another towel, drying your body with it.
He didn’t wash your hair so no need for hair dryers, thankfully, so you just slipped into your custom made pajamas and waited until he got himself dressed as well— a Calvin Klein underwear— before you both washed your teeth and got out of the bathroom.
You sat on the bed, trying your hardest not to smile, not wanting to look crazy. But you were happy. So, so happy, you were probably writing about this later.
“Here, pretty,” he handed you a bottle of water, already opened. “Drink this for me and we're ready to go to sleep.”
You thanked him softly before practically chugging the water bottle and placing it on your nightstand.
Jack smiled and gave you a peck, before sliding into the bed with you, pulling you close, as he always did. He wasn’t much of a snuggle guy, but he knew how much you liked them, so he just followed the lead.
After a few minutes in silence, you turned around so you could face those sapphire eyes you loved so dearly. “I am on birth control,” you whispered, feeling a little bit embarrassed. “Just so you know.”
He smiled, chuckling. “I know that, baby. I was just giving you something you needed.”
You nodded, not sure if you should feel content or not. Did that mean Jack doesn’t want you to be the mom of his kids? Your post-sex brain shouted yes.
He must have sensed that something was going on inside of your brain, because he wasn’t smiling anymore.
“For the record, I do want to have babies with you,” he said, as if he couldn’t believe you thought otherwise. “Just maybe not now? I’m still twenty-three and you’re almost twenty-five.”
“‘S fine,” you mumbled, hiding your face on his chest. “I know that. I was just being horny.”
You heard his breathy laugh and his chest moving according to the sound. “Yeah. I know that too, baby,”
The jet-lag and the tiredness of the day hit you like a trunk, and you were out not even five minutes later, nestled inside the heavy duvet and Jack’s arms.
“I love you, Soph,” Jack’s whisper was the last thing you heard, making a tired smile appear on your lips.
“‘Love you more.”
| LATER |
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liked by dawson1417, _quinnhughes, zendaya and 3,972,082 others
sophiamontenegro 'juno' music video is out now!
starring our nhl stars, _quinnhughes, jackhughes and lhughes_06, my beautiful best friend morgan.grace and my loving niece aurora!
i love all of u and i'm so thankful for all the love you guys have given 'make me yours' so far!!! xx tell me ur favorite positions ;)
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morgan.grace I LOVE YOU
user1 she wrote this during ovulation week bc ain’t no way
lhughes_06 😌
user4 when she sang “god bless your dad’s genetics” and the camera showed quinn jack and luke sitting on the couch I DIED. LIKE HELL YES
user2 idk about you guys but i found it sooo cute when she said “one of me is cute but two though?” and showed a baby who looked just like her 🥹🥹🥹🥹 i need sophia to be a mom right now
nicohischier 😮😮😮
trevorzegras why didn’t u call me, I’m a great actor
sophiamontenegro trevorzegras dwayne get out my fucking comment section. go do something man
user12 my favourite part was when she said “i showed my friends, then we high fived” and it was her and grace stalking jack’s instagram 💀💀
user7 i giggled so hard when she sat on jack’s lap and sang “i’m so fucking horny” and he SMIRKED. HELP 💜
jackhughes you know my favorite one
| the end |
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lundenloves · 2 years ago
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DAD SIMON AND THE 141 VISITING TO CHECK THE KID OUT FOR THE FIRST TIME PLAPSSLSLSPSLSLSK AND HE GETS SO JEALOUS WHEN OTHERS HOLD HIS SWEET BABY PATOOTIE PRINCesss
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↳ no warnings | f!reader | 1.6k
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Anon, I may have strayed from your original thoughts a little. I hold my hands up. At this point, he has been back and had time with her already this is just 141 meeting her. And it's very? Thought-provoking? Possibly not how you imagined? Alas, voila.
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Having a newborn allowed for zero quiet. Nothing of the sort was even imagined, sleep was out the window and tiredness was the new trend. It became tougher when Simon had to go back to work, leaving you behind with a long apology and his credit card. What was the card for? You weren’t sure, but made sure it was used like fuck. £17.32 on McDonald’s delivery didn’t seem as painful with his money.
And that’s exactly what you were doing, happily. Baby sleeping on your almost bare chest with a haul of food around you in bed. It was only seven but you had no reason to be up and about, and the reality tv wasn’t going to catch up on itself.
In fact, you were about to reach the episode climax of Love Island. Someone had been mugged off and the producers were keen on making a drama of it, issuing a re-coupling. But. Right before you could skip the credits and fast-track to the next episode, the bedroom door swung open and you screamed. Waking your daughter who naturally began to cry.
"Fucking hell." You frowned at Simon who had quickly shut the door behind him upon seeing you. He wasn't due back till tomorrow. "Scared me.” The scold in your voice was one he ignored, picking up a milk-stained shirt from the floor.
“Put something on, christ.” His voice gruff as he shrugged his jacket off and reached for another t-shirt after wearily tossing the other back to the floor, holding it out. “What, Me?” Black-painted eyes narrowed at you upon holding his child out to him, asking for a trade.
“No. The other person in the room.” You deadpanned, widening your eyes in silent effort for him to take her. “Yes, you.” He did as told, looking down at his daughter blankly. “What’s the rush anyway.”
Although, your question was answered by a loud echo of laughs from downstairs. “All of them?” In reference to the only three men it could be.
“I didn’t agree.” He met your eyes, holding the baby back out to you for the brief second you passed him. Sauntering out to the hallway before he had called your name stiffly, eyes pleading relief of the absolute fucking threat that was his baby. “Take her.”
“You’re fine.” You waved a hand, walking downstairs with him reluctantly following.
It was a shame really, you couldn’t help but snort at the way he held her so high up his chest. “Don’t let Johnny hog her.” Was the only instruction you gave, wandering through to the kitchen where his unit were stood.
“Alright?” The Scot rubbed your shoulder in greeting, “Solid birth n’ all that?” His brows furrowed in genuine care although the question was worded oddly.
“Solid. Johnny.”
He tsked, clutching a hand to his opposite bicep. “Tends to be like that, ae.”
“Speaking from experience?”
He laughed although his eyes fell from yours to over your shoulder. Price held his hand on your back in acknowledgment, his eyes softening with a nod your way. “Christ.” He muttered at the sight in Simon’s arms, taking his hand back and removing his hat. “Congratulations.”
Gaz wrapped an arm around you, leaning his head atop of yours on his shoulder. “It’s mad.” He said more to himself than anyone else, catching eyes with Soap who for once was lost on what to say.
Simon’s eyes were stuck on the baby in his arms, refusing to look up and see the group reaction. Her small hand reached upward, and his finger met her halfway, face unchanged as she wrapped her hand around it. No one said or did anything, only Price who took a step forward to pat the lieutenant's shoulder. The moment was tender, and understood by everyone as such a thing even by Johnny who crossed his arms over his chest and contrastingly pout his bottom lip out to you. “You wanna hold her?” You spoke to him, crossing the space to Simon who had finally looked up. 
“Go on, then.” He pushed his jacket off, hanging it on the back of the kitchen chair. Simon’s eyes met Soap’s, a look of trust, threat and relief spread across his face when you had prompted him to hand her over. “Just a wee thing, ae?” He comfortably took her from Ghost, gently bouncing her and smiling when she had cooed.
“Tiny.” Gaz added, looking to Simon who shifted in his spot - looking around the room, finding comfort in anything other than the tiny being. He was still so unsure of himself. Arms crossed together over his chest in anxious replacement of the tac vest he would usually slot his thumbs into. “Fresh to the world.” 
“Five weeks old.” You looked at Gaz. “Brand. New.”
He shook his head at the idea of a baby, looking to Price who was subtly enough fixated on his lieutenant. “How’re you doing, Simon?” He asked firmly, in a tone Simon wouldn’t ignore or sigh at, one he recognised as important. A tone of order.
“Fine.” He kept it brief, locking eyes with Price who nodded slowly. 
It was hard to read Simon. Period. Even after years being with him, you still couldn’t predict the way he was feeling or what he was going to say about a situation. He distanced himself from his daughter the first few days, intentionally waiting until you woke to sort her out instead of facing himself and his past in the form of the harmless baby.
His allowed paternity leave wasn’t granted extension of more than a week, therefore he left you. And admittedly, although he wouldn’t ever say it, he was glad to get some time away. It had only been a week and he was already itching to be alone, no words you spoke could comfort him. Only the mindless living of a deployment. His desired remedy. 
Ghost was dead silent that whole mission. The unit knew why, although they were tightly instructed by Price to keep their mouths shut. Not to even ask about the kid. So they didn’t, not until today, when it was brought up by the man himself. “Ask about the kid, then.” He said gruffly, unlacing his boots and stomping his feet wide of each other, eyes darting between the three men opposite him.
“She alright, yeah?” Soap asked, receiving a dull nod. 
“We’d love to meet her sometime.” Price continued cautiously, looking to Simon who then nodded, eyes dropping to his boots. There was a moment of silence before he had spoken up in answer to Price, elbows rest on his knees, hands clasped together and rubbing against his mouth. “You don’t live too far from base do you?”
“An hour.” He cleared his throat, “I live an hour away.” 
“We could stop by,” Price was the one to suggest it, dipping to reach a bag behind Soap’s drawer. “This is, from, us.” He rubbed the back of his neck, holding the small gift bag out to Ghost who only looked up at it. 
“I’m going home tonight.” He said matter of factly. “Just.” A sigh. “Tail me and hand it in to her, she’ll appreciate it better than I will.” Soap smirked at Simon’s falsified reluctance, a hidden invite into his lieutenant's domestic life was on the table and of course he jumped at it. 
And you? You knew Simon had given a skeleton of an invite. It was obvious. 
So now, as your daughter had been passed to Price from Gaz, it felt oddly comforting to you. For Simon, you couldn’t tell as much from the way he was constantly sighing and moving in his spot - obviously discomforted by the idea of his unit being in such an intimate space of his but it was blown over by the end of the short visit. “She’s going to be tall.” Price tilted his head at the baby, thumb swiping across her small arm.
“Oh aye.” Johnny nodded, nudging Simon who stared down at her. “Think she’ll have your eyes?” His efforts granted a shrug from the man next to him.
“The colour keeps changing, but,” You caressed her head in Price’s arms, “They are his shape.” The tone of your voice warming Simon enough for the thought of a smile, the side of his lip curling just enough. 
Gaz nodded to a bag Soap had left on the counter, “There’s some stuff. We didn’t get much time.” He reached for it, holding it out to you. The purpose of the trip.
“And there’s a card with some money.” Johnny added, “See yous’ round the New Year for the wee yin.” The bag had generic baby gifts inside, although it swelled your heart to think of three large military men shopping around for each thing inside
And the card was a treasure in itself, one you would certainly keep, handing it to Simon so you could hug Gaz and Soap, receiving a kiss to your cheek from Price after taking the baby back. “Maybe see you lot closer to Christmas?” You asked, bouncing your daughter when she had begun to stir.
“Course.” Price nodded to Simon, following the other two out the door. You heard them talking about the baby from the threshold, watching as they piled into their respective cars and pulled off with waves and a single salute from Soap. Because, Soap.
Simon sighed once the door was shut, looking down at you. There was something between warmth and sympathy in his eyes, wrapping an arm around the back of your neck and kissing your temple. “You putting this up?” He mumbled, holding out the card before pressing his thumb and pointer finger together against his daughter’s tiny feet in sudden affection. 
“On the mantel for now, probably.” You rubbed his arm, following him through to the living room. 
There was new lightheartedness around him after they had left. Like having his unit meeting his daughter was somehow a weight that had finally been shrugged off after the fact. Even prodding a few more kisses than you would usually receive from him. His brain worked in mysterious ways, although you were not complaining. 
Not now anyway.
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simon 'ghost' riley taglist: @vamppxncess @freakonfilm @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @abbugadu @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy
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endearing-dalliance · 2 months ago
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Just like Piltover, Arcane's beauty hides its fundamental problems. Its ableist, antisemetic, acephobic, classist, and worst of all, it doesn't initially seem that way.
Firstly, I want to say that this post and my problem with all of this is due to the real-life references, biases, and viewpoints of the team people who created the show, made the design decisions, wrote the scripts, and continue to defend what many have pointed out are genuine problems in their stories and characters. This nothing to do with the VAs, individual animators, supporting crew, or even the characters themselves. I'm genuinely heartbroken for all those people who proudly worked on the show, did their parts beautifully, supported the viewers, and are met with a fanbase disappointed, hurt, and angry about something completely out of their control.
I wrote up a different post about Piltover vs Zaun in the original lore and how that version is such a different situation than we we got.
Despite everything they did to make the Arcane undercity/Zaun this horrible place, they keep referencing the positives of LoL Zaun (an equal and respected society) and attributing them to Arcane Zaun. All of this is straight from the AoA:
"When you look closely, Piltover and Zaun are not entirely dissimilar" (y'all literally designed them as polar opposites)
Zaun is a refuge for outcasts who don't have a home, and there is the thrilling sense that anything is possible. So pretty much the exact opposite of what Vi was trying to show Cait?
In Piltover everything is heavily regulated; Zaun is wild and more pure meritocracy. "its is not completely lawless, though there are some issues with the mob." That's certainly one way to put it.
Zaunites "make magic out of nothing. nothing is precious, everything can be recycled and be reworked to make it better" I'm sure it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that people can't afford to replace things when they break. Nope. Completely plausible reasoning. No real life parallel at all.
One example of innovation is a jeweler from Zaun who makes unique gothic work. Not only did they never showed us this side of the undercity, I maintain NOBODY in Piltover is putting on a gas mask to go jewelry shopping in a slum.
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"Even though they were oppressed, they can innovate in ways Topside can't. Like well let's take this freedom we have because they don't care about us, and use it to find beauty and innovation. That's where Ekko's little conclave came in." Did they forget the literal orphans he rescued from those "shady streets"? What were they free from, their parents? Cause Piltover's enforcers seem to kill a lot of those despite "not caring". This is straight from Ekko's LoL lore where he spent his days being a kid running around with the Lost Children and inventing for fun. Arcane Ekko got Misfit Toys as an intro song. The Firelights were called a gang. These are not happy, healthy kids enjoying their world. They're vigilantes taking care of other kids who have nobody else.
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"Ekko emerged as one of the unlikely heroes of the show, rising to meet tough, sometimes heartwrenching challenges, and becoming a charismatic and beloved leader" His LoL lore is that of a self-educated genius described as "The Hero of Zaun's Youth". Beloved pretty firmly established already. Also charismatic...are we really not past the point where its not supposed to be a shock that a black guy can be articulate?
Sevika's arm is specifically described as "flamboyant", which was the same word used to describe Piltover's augments
This gave me the vibe that they were trying to glorify or romanticize Zaunites' suffering and environment, but on further reflection I think that's giving them way too much credit. Christian's reply below makes it pretty clear he doesn't understand his own story, and Alex's indicates they weren't even trying to tell it and are surprised by this interpretation. Because to them, the Zaunites were the bad guys all along.
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(Cool cool name one team member who has personal experience with living in under an oppressive ruling class that is either ignores their suffering or actively worsens it. I'll wait.)
Also, I think its very telling that a cocreator admits to having difficulty distinguishing between a group of systemically abused people fighting for their right to live on their own terms and people breaking the law because want power and influence and money. I don't think Peaky Blinders and the French and American Revolution (among others) are really compatible stories.
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"It was an impossible pipe dream if you ask me." Well then. All the nations that successfully rose up and freed themselves from their oppressive overlords were just flukes I guess. Also I'm not sure how they managed to figure out the alien invasion lack of relatability and not realize that's basically what they ended up with. Also, the fact that they keep framing it as a civil war rather than a revolutionary one is mindbogglingly out of touch.
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So they were trying to comment on the two party system, but also the point wasn't to comment on the real world. They wanted to show the widening wealth gap in a "fun way", but also that's not what they were shooting for. Over and over we've heard about how the show is about duality, the struggle of Jinx and Vi and the struggle of the two cities. If they didn't want to comment on the real world, didn't know enough about politics to even realize what they were doing or what message they sent, DON'T MAKE A $250 MILLION STORY ABOUT IT. Thanks to their contributions, we now have a story about two girls brutally traumatized by their environment enveloped in a pro-oppressor, forgive your abusers theme. Well I aint forgiving any of this.
I get the idea of "show, not tell", but some things do need to be explicitly told. Oppression is objectively wrong no matter who the oppressed are should not be left up to interpretation. Its not the viewers' job to piece together that Zaun's problems are ultimately caused by Piltover, especially since what they are shown is that death of a child makes the world a better place. Not once in 18 episodes do they ever explicitly condemn Piltover. Not once did they validate Zaun's right to independence. We got "forgiveness" (forgiving your abusers? great message) and "finding your way back to each other" (which none of the duos actually did. They're all "dead"). And my personal favorite, the important lesson that asexual people do not have happy, healthy, nonplatonic relationships, so TAKE THAT JAYVIK SHIPPERS.
Since they ended Arcane with a reference to a Japanese proverb, in the spirit of duality I'm ending with a quote by someone who actually has personal experience on the subject:
“If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor."- Desmond Tutu
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thalthanmadanus · 1 month ago
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Draco is THE antagonist of the story and I'm lowkey sick of people diminishing his character's importance in the story and to Harry's character development. so I'm writing an essay about how Draco as a character is fucking important especially his antagonistic arc
💅
1. The crumbs:
First of all, and this doesn't get mentioned often, Draco is the first magical kid Harry meets his age.
Not only that, he is our first glimpse at two major upcoming conflicts in the series: Blood Supremacy, and Hogwarts houses.
Draco plays the important role of the narrative foil to Harry. (even wikipedia references them in the "foil" page)
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Draco's main function as a character is to showcase Harry's best traits, through being his most worst. Unlike, Snape and Voldemort, Draco is more concerned with creating internal conflicts for Harry than external ones.
He is the character that says mudblood the most, with the frequency decreasing every book. He is the character that plays with/teases/bullies the psychological vulnerabilities of the trio (specifically Ron and Harry). He is one of the few characters that give rational criticism (against Hagrid, calling out the trio dynamic..) that, taken outside the keyframe imposed by the author, can showcase the flaws in Harry's views and his bias. He is also the only character that shows moral self-reflection that isn't motivated by either a reward or "love", which not only serves as character development for Draco but for Harry too who grows to sympathize with Draco, a small breakup from his fixed binary morality.
Draco is also a very active character. His actions and choices affect the plot. The majority of the first book literally happens because of his dumbass. In the second book, he is our first introduction to the word mudblood, he's also the main suspect to the two main mysteries. If Draco wasn't such a bitchass, would buckbeak gave been in said place for Harry to use him to save Sirius?
He is important narratively but what interests me is his importance to Harry's arc.
What separates Draco from other antagonists is that he creates internal conflicts that stem from his personal conflicts with Harry, because of Harry as a person. Not because Harry's the chosen one standing in his way, not because Harry's lily or James's son. Because Harry's Harry. and this exchange is mutual.
Their personal dynamic is set up in their first meeting. Harry, upon hearing two sentences from Draco, reacts negatively because of deeply personal issues (Dudley). I don't think Harry reacts personally to any other characters the way he did with Draco? Considering that Draco wasn't even hostile in his first sentences.
While Draco targets both Harry and Ron, there's a clear difference in how Draco bullies them both but also how Harry and Ron perceive Draco.
Draco is crueler on Ron. And his bullying doesn't feel personal, just apathetic, humiliating and mean. It feels like Draco is more cruel on Ron because Harry chose Ron over him and it shows by Draco coming back every now and then searching for Harry's compartment, trying to egg him, to look for a way that will make Harry regret rejecting Draco.
About Harry & Ron perception about Draco, it's showcased in the second book by the two main major events Draco was suspected in
1. Opening CoS. It was Ron who suspected Draco for this, not Harry. Ron suspects Draco for an action that affects everyone in the school.
2. Sending Dobby. Harry suspects that it was Draco that sent Dobby to prevent Harry from coming to school. Harry suspects Draco of an action that targets him specifically, and his reason of suspect? "because Malfoy hates me". It's personal.
Another instance of Harry making every issue personal with Draco: In the fifth book, after the sorting hat's song about houses unity
'And it wants all the houses to be friends?' said Harry, looking over at the Slytherin table,where Draco Malfoy was holding court. 'Fat chance. '
I'm also pretty sure the reason why Harry chooses not to be in Slytherin was 50% because Draco got sorted into Slytherin. the other 50% being Hagrid telling him that Slythering are eviiil. Btw a conversation that wouldn't have happened if Draco hadn't brought up houses in their first meeting.
Like I said, most of the plot in the first book goes back to Draco.
My main point is that the relationship between Harry and Draco as characters is beyond goals, motives, obstacles, moral causes bla bal bla, and is on the spectrum of "I took that personally".
2. the main plate:
Draco transitioned in the sixth book from an antagonist to a "side character" with a life. His role as character no longer functioned by his connection to Harry.
and this is where a flip of dynamic happened, where Harry became the antagonist to Draco's arc.
He's the one following him. He's the one egging him on (in the first 5 books,it was always Draco starting conversations with Harry, but in the sixth book, it's mostly Harry who started conversations with Draco) He's the one hurting him (Sectumsempra) (even on accident). He's the one trying to create obstacles to Draco's goal.
and why is that? why was Harry so obsessed with Draco?
If it were because of a moral righteousness, then why not focusing on Snape who's probably more suspicious? like who cares about Draco.. yeah he's sus but Dumbledore says it's not important..
This line of thought is more Ron and Hermione because they don't share the kind of deep personal issues towards Draco like Harry does.
so why is harry so obsessed?
"Harry, knowing and loathing Malfoy, was sure the reason could not be innocent."
This line in the sixth book explains it. Harry knows and loathes Draco with more emphasis on *knowing*.
Harry admits that he knows Malfoy, of course the fruit of labor of staring at Draco for five years, but why does he even stare in the first place? Because Harry is curious about Draco.
In comparison with Snape and Voldemort, our other antagonists,  Harry doesn't show the same enthusiastic curiosity for them. At least not the same way he does with Draco. Most of what we know about Snape and Voldemort are shown through external ways. Either their memories of memories of other people about them. Their character arcs happen outside Harry's vision,  either in the past or in a memory. It's not Harry who seeks those information. They come to him.
Draco, on the hand, most if not all of his character development happens in front of Harry. From his bullshit in the five years to him crying in the bathroom, him lowering his wand, him lying in the Manor. even the visions that Harry sees through Voldemort about Draco torturing Rowle, are happening in the present. Draco's character development is laid bare in front of Harry. 
but back to his obsession in the sixth book, it's because Harry knows Draco so well that not only he's right about him being a DE, but "Malfoy being up to something" is not something new to Harry, it's actually a normal thing that kept happening for 5 years of his life. Malfoy was always up to smtg. It's this idea of a normality that fuels like a new purpose in life for Harry after being wrecked by Sirius' death. Not only the mystery tingles his detective neurons, he knows he's right about Draco which only fuels his persistence. Draco being a person he hates also downplays the guilt/shame Harry could feel while stalking him. like I'm sorry but Harry was shameless and embarassing the whole year. The way Hermione and Ron looked at him sometimes so funny, also Hermione distancing herself from Harry when he talked to McG about Draco like "idk this person". Harry was kinda giving pre-HBP Draco vibes lowkey.
This shows that Harry himself is motivated by personal feelings (though negative) as an antagonist to Draco's arc himself.
And the important point here is the flip of dynamics. Draco is not just a mere side character in Harry's life. If anything, the moment he tries to become a side character with his is own arc, Harry is forcing himself in it. Because they're both foils to each other. It doesn't work on just one side.
The dessert:
The dynamic completely evolves again with the end of HBP as Draco gains a moral sense and Harry watching Draco's character development unfolding gains a more nuanced view than his old black/white one.
In DH, Draco and Harry are not antagonists anymore to each other. Draco and Harry are kind of heroes to each other?? as they both try to save each other like two times.
A lot of people downplay Draco's lie in the Manor, comparing it to Dudley's "You're not a waste of space" as "character development" moment.
bruh.
Dudley said that after Harry saved him. Draco literally was the one who took the initiative to lie, expecting no reward, literally had more to lose by lying, he was literally acting against his own interests, his family's life was in danger!!! Harry saved Draco after Draco saved him.
also Draco's character development started with him lowering his wand.
but back to being each other heroes. Our other comparison is Ron who is in both situations where Harry saves Draco but he's the one reacting negatively and complainig about them saving Draco, not Harry. Which is funny because Ron says "we saved you" but in both cases it's Harry who's doing the saving and Ron is  just there witnessing, and again I don't think he still realizes what was happening since the sixth year. He thinks his hostile feelings towards Draco are the same ones Harry has. That they're similar. Ron.. Harry literally almost risked your life to save Draco.
It also speaks of character development from Harry that he's not reacting negatively anymore towards Draco. He grew out of it. Like Draco also was starting to grow out of his toxic ideologies.
They're both growing up simultaneously.
And Draco was The first wizard kid Harry talked to (with no precognition or insidious motive)
Draco was the first character who he flew with
Draco was the first character who he dueled with
and so in DH,
Draco was the first character who tried to help Harry with no selfish motive
Draco was the first character that flew with Harry on the same broom (at least I think so?)
Draco was the first and only character whose wand Harry dueled with against Voldemort and won.
I wish I could write more. About Sectumsempra. About wand connection. but I'm tired.
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clockwayswrites · 1 year ago
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City Pigeons Bleed Green, Part 5
WC:1063, Masterpost
CW: dissociation, self esteem issues, (past) dehumanization, referenced torture and experimentation
Danny flinched, again.
He felt bad for it, Red Robin was being as careful as possible sliding the rubber fabric between the collar and Danny’s skin, but it was just that having hands on the collar like that freaked Danny out. He closed his eyes and mentally ran through the numbers of pi. He used to know over a hundred of them. Now he was only certain of about seventy-six or so. There were a lot of things that used to be so much clearer in his memory than they were now.
“Just the overlap now,” Red (the others just called him Red), said.
He flinched again as Red pressed lightly against his neck to overlap the fabric, but the hands pulled away after.
“Do you need a little break?” the other one, Nightwing, asked.
“No. I just want this off, please,” Danny begged. He had gotten used to begging in the last year. Years?
“We’ll get it off,” Red said confidently.
Danny tried to trust that. He kept his eyes closed.
A gloved hand slipped into Danny’s, giving him something to cling to other than the sheets. Danny recoiled at the touch at first, but when the hand started to pull away, Danny twisted their fingers together and held on tightly. He didn’t open his eyes to see who’s hand he was holding.
As Red started to work on the collar, Danny couldn’t help but tense. He’d been shocked by it so many times. He was like Pavlov’s dog, collar and all, he thought bitterly.
“Almost there,” Red warned.
Danny could tell the instant that the seal of the collar was broken. It was like moving a limb that had fallen asleep, but the pins and needles were everywhere, inside and out. It was agonizing.
It was a relief.
A damp cloth was dabbing under his nose.
He blinked rapidly and Nightwing came into focus. The hero looked so concerned.
“Wha…” Danny croaked.
“Nose bleed,” Nightwing explained. He folded the cloth and set it aside.
Moving slowly (though Danny still struggled to follow the motion) Nightwing reached out and places his hands on either side of Danny’s face. Gently, he tilted it this way and that. “You didn’t exactly lose consciousness, but you… went somewhere else.”
“I do that, I think,” Danny said. The hands started to pull away and Danny swayed after them. One returned to help keep him upright. Danny’s eyes fluttered closed. “It was easier… to be away than there.”
The thumb stroked gently across Danny’s cheek.
He could feel himself tearing up. When was the last time he had been touched with kindness? Why was he now? They didn’t know what he was, that’s why.
“You’re safe here, I promise. You don’t have to go away anymore.”
-
Jason looked up from the cutting board when Dick came out of the bedroom. Dick did his best to offer his brother a smile as he took a seat on one of the slightly rickety stools at the kitchen counter.
“How is he?” Jason asked. He had swapped his helmet for just a domino. (To Dick it was a pretty clear sign that Jason has already claimed the kid as theirs.)
“Better. The nose bleed stopped and he was fully conscious again,” Dick said. “He says he does that, goes away like that. It sounds like it was a defense mechanism for whatever those bastards put him through.”
“Fucking hell,” Jason muttered.
“Yeah. I’ll let the others know so that anyone looking over him knows to watch out for it. Especially if anyone takes him out shopping or anything…”
“Right,” Jason said with a grimace, clearly picturing how badly that could go.
Dick just gave a little nod. He dragged the table that Tim must have been using close and opened it to check on the rest of the family.
“You, me, and Cass?” Jason asked a few minutes later.
“What?”
“One of us three should always be here, right? Or Babs if we move to a different safe house.”
Dick hummed thoughtfully. “There’s something to be said for moving safe houses if the kid plans to wait awhile before wanting to see Bruce.”
This safe house was bearable, but it really was one of their worse ones. It didn’t even had a table to eat at or a television. They could deal with the one bedroom and a couch, but Dick got the feeling there would be a lot of Bats stopping by whenever possible and that it wouldn’t quite cut it.
“We can see how Kid is tomorrow after rest and food,” Jason said. “If he’s up to being in a car with us we can easily move to any of them.”
“Maybe the one on Rosserie Street?”
“Which one is that?”
“Upper East Side.”
“Ah, yeah,” Jason said with a little nod, pushing the things off his cutting board and into the large pot on the stove. “That one would work. More space and better stuff.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Dick said. It was one of their apartments set up for a long term hideout if one of them was too injured to be seen in public or supposedly out of town as cover. “And big enough beds people can share.”
Jason snorted. “I’ll stick to the couch. The demon brat kicks.”
“Do you think he’ll stop by?” Dick asked as he picked at the thick rubber case on the tablet.
With a heavy sigh, Jason crossed his arms and leaned a hip against the counter. “Yeah, I think he will. I think he’ll need to, for his own sake. I’d rather it be when you were here, you’re the only one of us who can really control him if he gets… territorial.”
“He’s been better,” Dick pointed out.
“This is different and you know it. This is blood, even if it’s green. Hell, it being green might actually make it worse.”
Dick groaned and let his head thunk onto the tablet. “Yeah… I’ll talk with him and try to get B and A to also.”
“Yeah,” Jason said and reached over to pat Dick on the back.
Why did being a the oldest have to be so exhausting? And now there was another one. Not that Dick would trade any of them away, but he could really use a vacation, a drink, and a long nap.
I no longer tag, but you can subscribe to the masterpost.
---
AN: Dick really really wants to hug Danny but is really really afraid of scaring him. Don't worry, he'll get hugs.
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strang3lov3 · 3 months ago
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Under the Table
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Roman takes you to dinner. You eat pasta and he eats you (4k)
Tags - smut, stepcest, stepdaddy!roman, age gap, dom!roman, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), public sex, teasing, emotional boners, you make daddy blush and get all bashful so he reminds you who calls the shots, like Dennis Reynolds, Roman has feelings again but he’s still disgustinggggg, does he want to be your father or your daddy, oh he is getting so soft. But someone else is too 🫵 implied almond/alcoholic mom + other mommy issues,,,planting some seeds here don’t mind me,,, Fic help - @beefrobeefcal thank you for brainstorming with me and for giving me your eyeballs! @endlessthxxghts, ditto!! A/N - yeah I wrote a birthday fic for my birthday to my birthday party on my birthday with a birthday gift. shut the fuck up about it. I love you. I think next time we see him he’ll fuck your ass maybe. I don’t know. Someone jump into my inbox and tell me something gross they should do because I need to cancel out this goddamn sweetness. Rotting the teeth right out of my skull smh. also, I know we waited a while for more stepdaddy. I appreciate your patience more than you know 🩷 updates may continue to be slow this month because we’re getting down to the wire with school and all that stuff.
Stepdaddy!Roman Roy
7:34 AM. You wake to texts from old friends and relatives wishing you another happy year around the sun, don’t party too hard and so on and so forth. It does warm your heart to know that people are thinking of you. Your past birthdays haven’t felt much like the birthdays you had when you were younger, when you were so excited to celebrate your day you couldn’t sleep. 
You pull on a sweatshirt over your thin pajamas and head downstairs to make yourself a bowl of cereal, and find Roman in the kitchen. “Morning, sunshine. Go sit down in the dining room.”
“Mm,” you grumble, voice gravelly from sleep. Your eyes are droopy and you still look tired, barely conscious. 
Roman eyes you as you sit down. You rest your head on the table, and you’re wearing his sweatshirt. He’s not entirely sure how you wound up with it. He doesn’t say anything, though, only smirks to himself. 
Roman goes back into the kitchen to plate some blueberry pancakes he made for you, just like he’s done since you were young. Roman’s not much of a cook, but this is one meal he can make and that he can make well. He wouldn’t do it for just anyone, but you asked him once when you were a kid and he didn’t have it in his heart to tell you no. Roman remembers how crappy that first batch came out, but how you didn’t complain. Honestly, you probably didn’t even notice with your pancakes covered in so much butter and syrup and whipped cream. You probably couldn’t even taste the blueberries. But thus, tradition stuck, and Roman’s blueberry pancake game vastly improved over the years. He liked making them for you as much as you liked eating them.
Roman returns to you with the plate of blueberry pancakes and sets it down in front of you. “Voilà.”
You lift your head up and grin when you see the pancakes Roman made for you. It’s straight out of a commercial, melted butter and syrup dripping down the edges with a dollop of whipped cream right on top. “Aww. You remembered,” you beam. You didn’t ask Roman for the pancakes this year. 
Roman blushes, and he feels his heart beat harder. It’s been so long since you’ve smiled at him like that, and it makes him nervous. “No. I made them for myself, actually, but I was feeling generous. This is my good deed for the week.”
“You still remembered.”
Roman ignores the accusation. “I gave you all the fucked up ones, just so you know. And I spit in the batter.”
“Mm. Tasty.”
Fuck. Your eyes are sparkling, your smile is so warm. Roman can’t stomach it, how you make him feel sometimes. “Oh, shut up and eat your fucking pancakes, birthday girl,” he snaps, contorting his face to fight his smile. “I hate you. You’re welcome.”
You roll your eyes and eat your pancakes, humming at the delicious flavor. Roman grabs your favorite mug and sets it down next to you, then fills it with the coffee he made. Before you can thank him, the clattering of high heels on the hardwood floor interrupts you. Your mom is on the phone and stops briefly in the dining room when she smells the pancakes Roman made for you. She leans over your shoulder and takes your fork from your hand and cuts off a bite for herself. “Mom,” you complain. 
“You can share,” she scolds, covering the mic on her phone.  
Roman speaks, “Wait, don’t. I made those special for -”
Your mom smiles and kisses Roman on the cheek before he can finish his sentence, and then she’s out the door while still talking with Erica. 
Roman looks to you for your reaction, and your face falls. That beautiful smile on your lips just moments ago, snuffed out like a candle. “I don’t think she remembered,” you tell Roman, defeated. 
“Oh no, I don’t think that’s true,” Roman lies. “I’m sure she just - I don’t know,” he sighs, resigning to the reality of the situation. You can expect some mushy and emotional text from her later, probably tomorrow. “No, you’re right - that was bullshit.” Roman squeezes your shoulder affectionately and tells you he’s sorry. 
Roman means it. He knows exactly how it feels to have a parent forget your birthday. His dad only remembered a handful of times, and every present always felt empty. It’s part of why Roman’s always put effort into making your day special each year. He never got the birthday he wanted or deserved, but he could give that to you.
“Listen,” Roman says, “I gotta run to work now. Don’t party too hard. Or do. I don’t care. It’s your day. Just don’t snort coke in my bathroom, okay? Anywhere else. And don’t do it before, like, four in the afternoon.” Roman pats your shoulder. “Just basic human decency.”
“I’m not gonna do coke in your bathroom, Roman.”
“I just feel the need to say it after the Uncle Ken incident, you know?” You laugh at that, though you shouldn’t. Roman continues, “Anyway, I want you to eat up all of your highly nutritious breakfast and when I come home tonight, you better be in your favorite dress.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause I’m taking you out.”
“You are?” 
“Duh, genius. Like me and you always do on your birthday, remember? Or are you forgetting as you approach your crone years?”
You roll your eyes. “Oh, fuck off. You’re closer to senile than I am. Pushing fifty there, aren’t you, Roman?”
“Maybe. I’ve got some years left, so watch it,” he warns, then kisses the top of your head. “I fuck like I’m thirty, anyway.”
-
The rest of the day drags on, truthfully. You finish your pancakes, then go upstairs and treat yourself to a bubble bath, your vibrator joining you. Afterwards, you dress yourself in comfortable clothes and drive yourself around the city, picking up birthday freebies from different stores and fast food restaurants. When you come home, you do your hair and makeup in the way that makes you feel prettiest, then look through your closet for your favorite dress, just like Roman said. 
Your favorite dress. It’s not an easy decision. You have a favorite dress that’s comfortable, a favorite dress on your body, a favorite patterned dress. You slide the hangers across the closet rod, contemplating, contemplating…until you come across that one purple dress. 
You remember Roman pulling the zipper of that dress up your spine, his warm hands on your waist. How he fucked you in that closet, bent you over the vanity and split you open. You watched him in the mirror as you gushed on his cock. You wear that dress tonight, then pick out some shoes to match. 
Roman presses his horn repeatedly to call you outside. He’s fucking obnoxious, but you laugh. You rush downstairs and out the door, and when Roman sees you he gets out of the driver’s seat and rounds the front of his car to open up the passenger side door for you. “Look at you, birthday girl,” he says, chewing minty gum. “You look so grown up.”
“Ew. Don’t, please.”
“So that’s your favorite dress, huh?”
Knowing Roman recognizes your dress makes your cheeks warm. “Yeah,” you mumble softly. 
“Mm. Mine too,” he whispers, then shuts the door. He gets back into the driver’s seat and presses buttons on the screen until his car’s Bluetooth connects to your phone. “I think your birthday earns you DJ rights, yeah?” Roman pulls the gear shifter into drive. 
“I’d say so,” you agree, picking out your favorite playlist on Spotify. Roman puts his hand on your thigh, inching it up and under your skirt. He doesn’t do more than an occasional squeeze, and tapping his fingertips on your skin. Still, it excites you. 
Once at the restaurant, Roman takes your hand and helps you out of the car. You read the sign of the restaurant, Adalina, and Roman leads you inside. You notice he’s holding a little gift bag. “Reservation for Roy,” he tells the host, who then ushers you both to a corner booth. The lights are dim, tables covered in floor-length white cloths. There’s people chatting at tables and at the bar, someone softly playing piano. Once seated, the host lights a candle at your table. 
“Your uh - your boy toy from a while ago. Is this where he took you? I thought you said something about not liking it,” Roman asks, unfolding his napkin and placing it on his thigh. 
You shake your head. “No,” you answer. “I’ve never been here.”
“Good, that’s good…you guys still talk?”
You shoot him a look at the same time your server comes by to place a plate of bread and oil at your table and to pour water in your glasses. “Can I start you off with some wine, something else to drink?”
You look at Roman, who shrugs. “All you,” he says. 
“I’m fine with water.” 
Roman says the same. He figured you’d forgo drinking tonight, even if it was just one little glass of wine. That’s why he had you make the decision - he doesn’t want you feeling pulled in either direction. You’re not much of a drinker, with your mom being the opposite. It makes sense. 
Your server leaves to give you a little while to browse the menu and pick out appetizers and dinner. Roman places that gift bag from earlier in front of you. 
“For me?” You reach for the bag. 
“For you,” Roman replies, mocking your tone. 
You pull the tissue paper out of the bag before pulling out the gift itself - it’s…you don’t know what you’re looking at. It’s some bizarre figure of a frog dressed as a cowboy, riding…a bearded dragon? Baffled and wearing a smile, you turn it over in your hand. You wonder where on god’s green earth Roman even found something like this. 
“I thought of you,” Roman says. “Has your name written all over it.”
“Oh Roman,” you sigh dramatically, “You shouldn’t have.”
“I know, I know.”
You examine the weird little toy some more, giggling at all of the details. Roman’s fucking with you, but you do love the figurine. He knew you would. 
Roman reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a fancy leather box, then slides it across the tablecloth quietly. “What..?”
“Shush. Just open it.”
You put down your figurine and open the box, gasping at the sight. A gorgeous, multi-stone sapphire pendant sparkles above black velvet. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen, the design very intentional. Unique. “Roman…”
“Umm,” Roman hums nervously, hovering over you to point at the pendant, “They’re sapphires, so blue- they’re like blueberries,” he stutters, gesturing to the multiple round-cut stones. “‘Cause of the pancakes I make you…uh…sometimes.” Roman points to the little diamonds between the sapphires, “And the diamonds, I don’t know. I thought it was a nice accent sort of thing. And you’re a girl, you know. You like sparkles.”
You’re touched. Not only is the piece gorgeous, but the thought Roman put into it warms your heart and makes it all the more special. There’s no way he just walked into a jeweler’s and picked this out of the display case. He thought up the design and had it custom made, probably weeks or months ago. Had to have. Carefully, you remove the pendant and its box chain from the box. 
“If you don’t l-” You put the piece of jewelry in Roman’s hand and turn your back to him. Roman smiles to himself. He puts the necklace over your chest and brings the chain around your neck, his nervously shaking fingers tickling your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “God, fuck - sorry, hang on,” he whispers, losing and finding his grip on the small clasp before successfully securing it. “There.” Excitedly, you pull out your phone and turn on your front-facing camera to admire the pendant on your skin. 
You turn off your phone and put it in your purse, then fling yourself at Roman, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly. Roman freezes at first, then hugs you back gingerly, before finally squeezing you just as tightly, chuckling quietly at your palpable excitement. You pull away from the hug just enough to kiss him quickly on his lips, startling both yourself and Roman. “Yeah, so…” He rubs the back of his neck and blushes wildly, his cock quickly hardening in his pants. Roman coughs and adjusts his napkin over his lap, still feeling the pressure of your lips on his despite their absence. “Happy birthday, kiddo,” he whispers. 
“I love it. Thank you.” You look at Roman with sparkling eyes, pupils blown wide as you beam at him. It makes him blush even harder, his ears and neck turning red too. 
“Stop it, don’t - quit looking at me like that,” Roman scolds, avoiding eye contact. “It - it’s nothing.”
“I don’t know,” you reply, “I think it’s something.”
“Yeah, of course you think that. Because that’s the problem with your generation. You put labels on everything and think you’re all so special. Snowflakes,” he rants. “God, I can’t stand you people. You especially. I’d get that necklace for anyone.”
Defensive. He’s so fucking comically defensive, and it tickles you. “Hey, Roman,” you purr, in the mood to tease. 
Roman looks at you wearing a seemingly permanent smile on your lips as you touch and toy with your pendant. “What? What now?” he asks, flustered and impatient. 
“You’re kinda pink.”
“I’m not…pink,” Roman mumbles.
“You are. You’re blushing.”
“Shut the fuck up. I am not blushing.”
“No, you’re totally blushing. Your cheeks are all rosy.”
Roman buries his face in his hands and groans, eliciting a sweet giggle from you. The way you look at him, how you’re acting and making him feel. Tripping over his words, his heart hasn’t stopped pounding, cock achingly hard since you pecked his lips. You make him feel weak, and you’re not supposed to. Not like this. 
Your server returns then. “Are we ready to order?”
“Yes,” Roman quickly answers. “I’ll have the…fuck. One - one sec.” Roman raises a finger as he browses the menu. Sorry, you mouth to the server. “Entrees, entrees…” he mumbles.
“It’s right here,” you whisper, pointing to the entree section of Roman’s menu. His large bulge catches your eye, and you smile mischievously. When did that happen?
“Okay. Yeah. I think I’ll have the charred fil- fuck.”
Your server’s eyes widen at Roman, who quickly apologizes. Your hand is on his bulge, squeezing him through the fabric of his pants. 
“He wants the charred filet,” you cut in, answering for Roman. “I’ll have the gnocchi. Thank you,” you smile sweetly at the waiter, stroking Roman’s bulge over his pants. Silently, Roman gives the man a thumbs up and waves him away. Roman bites his lip as he waits for him to go back to the kitchen. “Alright, fuck this,” Roman snaps, squeezing your wrist and forcibly removing your hand from his lap. “You’re out of line.” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’re being weird. Are you feeling okay?” 
“We’ve had a nice night, you know. Do you really wanna do this?”
“Do what?”
“Cute.” Roman wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you flush against his side. “I give you an inch and you take a mile.” 
“You’re still so flushed,” you tease. This time, Roman doesn’t smile bashfully. Instead, he wears a frown and puts his hand on your knee, under the skirt of your dress. His palm slides up your thigh until his fingers meet your panties, and he teases you over the fabric. “Ooh. Look who’s wet,” he mocks, feeling your sticky dampness. Roman hooks his fingers under your panties and pulls them, sliding them down your thighs. “Lift up. They’re coming off.” 
“What are you doing?” you hiss. You hold his forearm in both of your hands, attempting to pry his hand away from your lap. His muscles flex beneath your palm as he fights against you. Roman’s taking this much farther than you did.
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“You have to stop. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. Not like this, not here, not - Jesus Christ.” Roman tugs your panties down to your knees, then lifts your legs over his lap so he can remove them the rest of the way. It’s not long before you’ll be soaking through your dress.
“You’re not behind the wheel anymore.” Roman stuffs your soaked panties into his pocket and spreads your legs wide, one of your thighs still resting on his. “Shouldn’t have been in the first place.” You’re completely exposed right now, anyone could see what Roman’s doing to you. What you’re letting him do to you. He wriggles his fingers underneath the skirt of your dress and presses his thumb against your sensitive clit, causing you to gasp and jerk your body, hitting your free leg against the table. The utensils on your plate clatter loudly, and Roman’s glass of water spills over and onto the tablecloth. Another guest at the restaurant looks at you, and you force a smile at them. “Ooh, nice one,” Roman taunts.
Roman’s rubbing you in circles now, using his free hand to tug your dress up and look at your bare pussy under the warm light of the candles at your table. You look at him with pleading eyes, begging him, “We shouldn’t be doing this, Roman. Not here. Not like this.”
“Yes, here, and yes, like this. Don’t fucking argue with me.” Roman buries two fingers into your cunt, pushing them in and out of you slowly, collecting your arousal. “You didn’t think this one through, did you?” 
He drags his slick fingers up and down your folds, feeling you becoming wetter by the second. He circles your clit lazily, rubbing it gently, listening closely to the wet noises you make. Your waiter returns with your meals, and just like you did to Roman, Roman keeps his hands on you. “Better keep it together,” he murmurs in your ear, pulling your skirt back over the front of your thighs. 
Your server sets Roman’s filet in front of him, then your gnocchi down in front of you. “Anything else I can get you?”
“Yeah, actually,” Roman answers. His demeanor has totally shifted. He’s cool, he’s back in control. “What are your desserts tonight? This one here has a pretty severe sweet tooth.”
“Dessert specials,” the server repeats. “I have to think. They change them up on us a lot.”
“Oh, take your time. We’ve got all night. Don’t we, kiddo?” 
“Mhm. Yep.” 
Roman takes a spoonful of his mashed potato side as your waiter thinks. “Tiramisu, of course,” he says. 
“Oh, well. Naturally.” Roman’s fingers slide down until he’s pressing them right against your slick little hole. 
“We have a cookie plate, too. A chocolate and hazelnut mousse cake. And a pineapple angel cake. And gelato.” 
Roman slides his fingers into your tight pussy, pressing them up to search for that spongy spot inside of you. “What flavors?”
“We have caramel butter cake, chocolate cashew raspberry…” 
The server’s voice becomes distant as he recites flavors. You squeak when Roman reaches your g-spot, swallowing your moans as he curls his fingers repeatedly against it. 
“We have sorbets, too.” 
“What sorbets?” Roman asks.
“Mango calamansi, cantaloupe, and lemongrass.” 
“Quite a dessert menu. Well, what do you think, birthday girl?”
“Tiramisu,” you mumble. 
“I didn’t catch that,” the server replies. “What was that?”
Roman answers for you, “She says she wants tiramisu. She’s just shy sometimes. Aren’t you?”
You glare at Roman, who smiles at you, flashing those perfect little teeth of his. His fingers stop suddenly - he has an idea. He cocks an eyebrow when your hips follow his hand, bucking into his palm, “Interesting,” he says, smiling fondly at your desperation. Your face feels hot and you feel out of your depth here. Roman was right to warn you about getting into this, about it being a nice night.
It worries you to see Roman scanning the room and biting his lip. He’s thinking, which is never good. “Roman. Whatever you’re thinking of doing - don’t.” 
Roman ignores your warning. “Keep telling me no and watch what happens,” he warns, then slides under the table with seamless ease. Once under the table, he pushes your thighs apart and pulls you close to the edge of your seat, putting one of your legs over his shoulder. 
He licks your inner thighs, his scruff abrasive against your damp skin. Roman licks you higher and higher, pulling you closer to his waiting mouth where you can feel his hot breath against your core. His head bulges a bit under the white tablecloth, and then you feel it - one long, fat lick of his tongue up your seam. “Ohhh my god,” you moan, garnering a look from someone at a nearby table. You smile and take a sip of your water with shaky hands. 
Roman starts small with little licks, sucking your labia into his mouth. First one side, then the other. His hands rest on your thighs, hot against your skin and squeezing your flesh. He licks over your clit next, then sucks it between his lips. He alternates between those two actions, stopping and starting all over again and again. You want more and less of it, of Roman, all at once.
Roman gently tugs the hood of your clit up, exposing your most sensitive part of yourself to his lips and tongue. He slides his two fingers inside you once more, fucking you on those digits as he sloppily licks your clit. You arch into his touch and reach under the table to hold his head and tug on his hair. “Roman,” you whimper. 
He coaxes release from you effortlessly, patiently using his tongue to draw steady circles on your clit as he curls those long, bony fingers inside you. You bite your lip so hard it breaks skin, squeezing Roman’s head with your thighs and whimpering softly as you feel the beginning of your climax begin to take over. 
Fuck. Your server is back with the tiramisu Roman had ordered for you. “The tiramisu,” he says, placing it on the table. “I apologize, I forgot to ask - do you and your date want coffee to go with dessert?”
“N- nah- no-” you stutter, though it comes out more as a moan as Roman fucks you with his tongue through your orgasm. Roman slaps your thigh and you jump in your seat, earning yourself a strange look from your server. Wrong answer. “Sor - yeah - yes. Yes.” Roman kisses your inner thigh in approval. 
Your poor fucking waiter. He nods wordlessly to go back into the kitchen and retrieve coffee for you and Roman. At the same time, Roman emerges from under the table with his cheeks flushed and his hair mussed and out of place, which is entirely your fault. “Fuck,” you whisper. Hastily, you finger-comb his hair into place. 
Roman grabs a spoon and takes the first bite of the tiramisu. “Mm,” he hums. “Sorry, birthday girl. Dad tax.”
Roman scoops up another bite of tiramisu, then brings the spoon to your lips. You take the bite, your cheeks warming when you taste your arousal on the metal. 
-
It’s quiet in the house when you and Roman come home. He stops briefly in the kitchen to put your leftovers away, then follows you up the steps and into your bedroom. “Need help with your zipper?” 
“Mhm. Please” 
Roman pulls your zipper down your back, then turns you around. Before you can think, he cups your face with both hands and kisses you, really kisses you. It’s no accidental peck on the lips, no. It’s intentional, deep and deliberate. His lips are soft, his tongue melding perfectly together with yours. When he pulls away, you look at him with knitted brows.
“You kissed me first, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but–”
“Then it’s on the table.” 
Roman kisses you once more, then pulls away again. His eyes are dark and sparkling, and warm, too. He touches the pendant on your chest, holding it between his fingers before rubbing his thumb across the stones. It’s so intimate, and it leaves you breathless and confused. “Good birthday?” 
You nod. Roman smiles at you. 
“I’m glad. Goodnight, kiddo.” 
tysm for reading!! please scream nice and horny things at me if you enjoyed ♡ reblogs, comments, and asks are so appreciated and keep me motivated to write for you guys
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just-jordie-things · 1 year ago
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cinnamon girl - kamo choso
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 17.3k warnings: i think none? summary: the brothers who are your neighbors across the hall settle inside of your heart as if there had been a space inside of it left just for them. more info: neighbors to friends to lovers. super cute big brother/little brother choso and yuji dynamic <3
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
[ there’s things i wanna say to you, but i’ll just let you live // like if you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did // there’s things i wanna talk about, but better not to give // but if you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did ]
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
When she’d first met her neighbors across the hall, (y/n) hadn’t known they were her neighbors.  At the time she’d still been new to the building, having only lived there for under a month, and she hadn’t quite found the time (or courage) to introduce herself to the other residents on her floor.  Going door to door seemed corny, and she figured over time they’d see each other in passing, but it appeared her floor was rather quiet.  Maybe they all worked at odd hours, or from home and never left their apartment, but either way, she’d barely met anyone in the building.  
Save for the uppity property manager and a few of the maintenance crew.  Neither of which she took much pleasure in interacting with.  Neither of which provided much room for forming friendships.  
Although one of the maintenance guys who fixed her broken dishwasher would have been more than happy to accept her number, as he’d tried multiple times to leave his personal number in the case of any other ‘emergencies’ as he called them.  Now she tried to DIY her way out of any issue the small apartment gave her, just so she could avoid having him sent to her again.
But a month into her lease, she’s still a stranger to what feels like the entire complex, and she’d gone to the mail room to check her mailbox.  As usual it was empty, and despite having hoped to make friends when she’d moved to the area, it was a bit of a relief to not have to talk to anyone right now.
That is, until a small person came running into the room.  Or, half running half waddling on his chubby legs.  When the child wasn’t immediately followed by an adult, (y/n) found herself panicking.
“Uh, hello,” She greeted, with painful awkwardness.
So she wasn’t that great with kids, sue her.  She’d never had to interact with small children before, with no kids in her extended family, she didn’t exactly have the experience.  Nonetheless, the little boy in the footie pajama tiger costume looked up at her with wide eyes and a wider smile.
There still didn’t seem to be an adult in the area, and her panic kicked up a few notches.
“Is your mommy or daddy around?” She asked, wondering if she needed to put the mail away and notify the proper authorities of this missing child.
Surely someone was missing him- he was downright adorable.  With the brightest brown eyes she’s ever seen, a toothy smile that displayed his missing front tooth, and the striped tail of his tiger onesie being wrung around in his little hands- (y/n) had never felt baby fever before, but she imagined it had to be akin to the tightening heartstrings in her chest.
“No,” The boy shakes his head, most of his body following the movement in a small sway.  “I don’t have them” 
Okay, now she was going to have to do a breathing exercise before she called the police, so that she could remain calm until this missing child was returned home safely.
With a slow exhale, she tucks her mail into her purse before kneeling down before him.  It takes her a few moments to try and find the right thing to say, this kid looked no older than five and she just wasn’t equipped to strike up a conversation with a child so young about where their home was.  She tries to speak calmly and slowly.
“Are you lost, little tiger?” 
Mentally, she cringes at how awkward her voice sounds when she’s trying to be approachable.  Does it come across as creepy? Fuck, she hopes not.
But the kid giggles, and shakes his head.
“No, I’m not lost!” He squeals it out with that adorable little kid delight, as if he’s trying to fight a fit of giggles.  “I live here! With Choso-nii!” 
So he lived with his brother.  That explained the no parents thing… sort of.  At least enough to calm her racing heart down a bit.
“And where is Choso-nii?” She asks next, praying that at any moment this mystery brother would appear and scoop up this kid before she had to strain through much more interaction.  Then again, she hoped no other adults would have to witness the embarrassing way she spoke to kids.
“I don’t know,” The boy shrugs his shoulders.  “We were playing hide and seek.  He hasn’t found me yet!” 
(y/n’s) eyes widen with alarm before she realizes that she should probably keep her expression as neutral as possible, so as not to worry the child.  It settles back into a nervous smile before she nods in slow understanding.
“You play hide and seek… out here…?” She asks slowly.
The boy holds both of his hands up to his mouth as he giggles.  If she wasn’t so anxious about him being all alone, she would’ve melted at the adorable and squeaky sound.
“Nooo,” He whines out playfully.  “I was trying to find a really good hiding spot!” He declares.
Again, (y/n) nods, and gives him a small laugh.
“Well buddy, the mail room isn’t a great spot.  It’s all open, see?” SHe gestures around her to the space they’re standing in.  “He’s sure to find you right away.  Did you leave your apartment?” 
The boy nods back at her, but his attention starts to stray as he begins to look around, probably for a better hiding spot.
“Does your brother know you left?” 
This time he shakes his head.
(y/n) huffs, and places her hands on her knees.
“What’s your name, kiddo?” 
“Itadori Yuji!” The boy declares, his attention back on her as a proud grin covers his face.  “I’m five!” He adds, holding out his hand with all five fingers stretched out on display.  This time when (y/n) giggles, it’s genuine.
“Itadori Yuji, I’m (y/n),” She introduces softly before tilting her head at him.  “I live in the building too.  Do you think I could take you back to your brother?” 
Yuji frowns.
“But then my turn will be over” 
She’s quick on her feet to come up with an excuse to take him back home where he belongs.
“Well… I’m sure I could convince your brother to give you a re-do.  Since I messed up your game and all,” She suggests.  “Do you think then it would be okay?” 
Yuji thinks about it for a minute, humming and looking around the mailroom some more.  Once he realizes there’s not a good hiding spot anyways, he gives in, and nods his head.
“Okay!” He agrees, and (y/n) smiles back at him as she stands up again.
“Do you know which apartment is yours, Itadori Yuji?” 
“I know which button to push in the elevator!” He tells her, and she figures that’s a good start for now.  If knocking on every door is what it took to get him back to his brother, she’d have to accept that.
“Alright then, let’s get to it” 
As the pair make their way to the elevator, Yuji pulls the hood of his pajamas over his head.  It’s got fluffy little ears to complete the whole costume, and (y/n) can’t help the smile that takes over at the adorable sight.
Yuji’s excited about pushing the buttons in the elevator.  He expertly pushes the one with the number for his floor- or at least she hopes it’s the right one- before he pushes the one to close the doors.
“Choso-nii always lets me push the buttons” He tells her matter of factly.
“I can see why.  You’ve practically mastered it,” She teases in response, and he seems to take it as the highest form of compliment.  It’s then that she takes notice of the floor he’d chosen.  “I think you and I live on the same floor, Itadori Yuji” 
“Really?” The boy’s eyes light up as if he’d just learned his best friend lived so close- despite them still being strangers in her book.  It makes her chuckle as she nods her head at him.
“Really” She affirms.
The first neighbor she meets, and it’s a rowdy five year old boy.  Oh well, it could’ve been worse, right?
“That’s so cool! I can’t wait to tell Choso-nii!” Yuji bounces with his giddiness, and it has (y/n) chuckling again.
Even if his brother had lost track of the kid, it was clear that Yuji adored him with how much he brought up his name.  (y/n) only hoped that when she returned him, Choso-nii lived up to the first impression his little brother was creating.
“He doesn’t really have any friends,” 
Yuji immediately begins to overshare, and now (y/n’s) trying to stifle her laughter as he babbles on about his older brother.  He’s chatty for a five year old sharing an elevator ride with a stranger, but (y/n) didn’t mind.  The less she had to make awkward small talk, the better.
“But that’s just ce-bause he works a lot.  He works really late too.  Sometimes past my bedtime.  But he doesn’t get in trouble ce-bause he’s a grown up and I’m just a kid.  But when I’m a grown up I’m gonna stay up past my bedtime, too!” 
A little chuckle slips past her lips just as the elevator dings, and the doors slide open again.  Yuji steps out and happily leads the way down the hall.  (y/n) hopes his confidence is based in his memory on where he lives.
“He’s really nice though.  He should have more friends.  But he has me!” 
“Is that so?” (y/n) giggles softly as Yuji begins to skip down the hall.  
They’ve almost approached her apartment, and her panic begins to crawl back in.  Does he really live up here? Does he really live in this building? When he finally plants himself in front of a door, she prays to whoever’s up there that his brother is on the other side.
Glancing behind her to see her own door there, she swallows the lump in her throat.  This kid lived right across the hall from her? Her brows are pulled into a pinch, and she’s debating on scooping Yuji up and calling the police to find his proper address, because what are the odds of that? 
Maybe she was just paranoid, but she’s on the brink of reaching out to the boy when the door in front of them swings open.
Oh wow, is the first thought on her mind, and she’s lucky her throat went too dry for her to accidentally let them slip off her tongue, too.
The man that stood in the doorway couldn’t have been more than a couple years older than her- which she wasn’t expecting- but more surprisingly, he’s the most handsome man she’s ever laid her eyes on.  
With a tall stature and broad shoulders, he nearly took up the entire doorway with his body.  He was wearing a hoodie and sweats, but she could tell that he was well built under his clothes.  From his size alone, she could conclude that, but there was also a certain aura about him that told her he was strong.  Not to mention, with fair skin and dark hair swept into two messy buns, he was just so pretty she couldn’t tear her eyes off of him.  There was a thin black line tattooed over the bridge of his nose and across his cheekbones that stood out on his pale skin, and she stared at it too long to be deemed appropriate, but she just couldn’t help herself.  He was the most mesmerizing person she’s ever seen.
She’s stunned so thoroughly that she just stands there with her lips sealed and her eyes blinking wide.
Yuji, on the other hand, is overwhelmingly delighted.
“Choso-nii!” He cheers, leaping towards his brother and clinging onto the hem of his sweatshirt.
“I was just going to come look for you, booger,” Choso finally speaks and (y/n’s) struck with a mixture of relief from the confirmation that this was Yuji’s proper home, and a sudden heat in her chest from hearing his deep voice.
The man places a hand on top of Yuji’s head, smushing down the ears on his hood as he tilts his head back so he could stare down at him sternly.
“You don’t leave the house like that,” He scolds in a gentle voice, clearly more concerned than anything.  “You know that” 
“I was still in the building,” Yuji pouts.  “And (y/n)-san found me,” 
Before Choso can ask who he means, it strikes him that the woman who’d been at the door with his little brother was still standing there.  She throws her hand up in an awkward wave, still too starstruk to speak.  Also perhaps a bit intimidated from having to explain herself to the handsome stranger- who happened to be her neighbor.
Before she could properly introduce herself, or find her voice, Yuji’s pulling away from his brother and reaching for (y/n’s) hand.  He tugs on it as he stares up at her with pleading eyes.
“C’mon (y/n)-san, tell him, tell him!” 
Choso eyes his brother with a peculiar narrow to his eyes, before shifting his gaze upwards, towards the girl who’s quietly laughing and pulling Yuji’s hand off of her own gently.
“Right…” She murmurs down at him, before turning towards his older brother.  “Well, I must request that you give Yuji a re-do on his round of hide and seek,” 
Choso blinks, his eyes widening in just the slightest.  Enough for (y/n) to realize there was a slight violet hue in the darkness of them.  Her heart skips  a beat- has she ever seen violet in a person’s eyes before? Certainly not.  She has to clear her throat before continuing.
“You see, I made him end his round early,” She continues, trying to bite back the grin that threatens to take over her features as she takes responsibility for the game being ended so abruptly.  “Completely my fault” 
A breath of a laugh escapes him, before his lips part and he smiles between her and his brother and fully laughs.
“I see,” He hums.  “You can have a redo on one condition” 
“Anything!” Yuji wailed out dramatically 
“The game stays inside the apartment.  Got it?” 
“Okay!” Yuji agrees to the rule right away, throwing himself at his brother again to wrap his arms around him in a display of his gratitude.  He giggles as he looks up at his beloved big brother.  “I’m gonna go scout hiding spots while you talk to (y/n)-san!” 
Before anything more could be said, Yuji’s darting back inside the apartment.  Even with the footie pajamas, his stomps as he roams around looking for small places he could fit could be heard by the pair at the door.
“Scouting is cheating!” Choso hollers behind him, but when he’s met only with Yuji’s giggling, he figures it’s probably a lost cause already, and turns back to where his little brother’s not-as-little friend is still hovering in the hall.  His adam’s apple bobs as he swallowed thickly, trying to cure the dry spell on his throat before he speaks again.  “Thank you for helping him get back.  I’m, uh, sorry if he was trouble” 
“Oh, he was no trouble at all,” She says easily, because it’s the truth.  She tries not to focus on the purple in his eyes as she jerks her thumb over her shoulder.  “I actually live across the hall, so if anything he walked me home like a tiny gentleman” 
She laughs off her nerves as she pulls on the strap of her bag, clutching it close to her chest.  It’s a relief when he quietly chuckles too.
“I’m Kamo Choso, by the way” He says, stepping out of the doorway just enough to extend his hand to her.  She hesitates before taking it, and he wonders if he’s imagining things or if she really was blushing from the simple handshake.
“(y/l/n) (y/n),” She replies softly.  “Nice to meet you” 
She hadn’t thought Choso would take Yuji seriously when he was instructed to talk to her, but to her surprise he leans back against his door frame and takes it upon himself to strike up a conversation.  It’s nothing too exciting, but it was more than she was expecting, and it still has butterflies tickling in her stomach.
“How long have you been in the building?” 
“About a month,” She answers.  “Pretty sure you’re the first person I’ve met that actually counts, though” 
“That actually counts?” His brow raises.
“Would you count the landlord and the maintenance crew?” She asks, a slight smirk tugging on the corner of her lips.  It draws another chuckle out of him, and he has to nod his head in agreement.  “Well, I should let you get back to your game,” She shuffles backward, her hands relaxing on the strap of her bag as she reaches her side of the hall.  “I’m glad I met you both, though” She adds in a moment of bravery before she’s fishing for her key.
“Me too-” 
“Choso-nii! Time to cooount!” A little voice hollers from inside his apartment, sending him whirling around to scold Yuji for being too loud when the door is open and all of their neighbors could surely hear his screeching.
(y/n’s) already slipped inside her door and shut it again when he turns back again.  He’s disappointed, even if he didn’t know what else to say, he would’ve liked to talk to her a little bit longer.  With a huff, he hopes they’ll cross paths in the hall sometime soon, before he heads after his brother.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
After a few more rounds of hide and seek where Choso had to pretend he hadn’t seen Yuji’s tail poking out from under the couch, or his padded clawed feet from beneath the swaying curtains, he decides it’s time to make them both lunch.
And in the midst of perfecting his craft at grilled cheeses, he thinks he might as well press his kid brother for some more information about their supposed new neighbor.
“Your new friend seemed pretty nice” He tested the waters, keeping his focus on the stove while Yuji did a coloring page at the counter across from him.
“(y/n)-san?” He asks, grinning right away.  Out of the corner of his eye, Choso can see that he began to kick his feet back and forth.  “She’s really nice! I like her a lot” 
“Mhm” Choso hums back, poking the sandwich around with a spatula to test if it was ready to flip yet.  Yuji watches his big brother curiously.
“Did you like her too, Choso-nii?” 
“I said she seemed nice” Choso chuckles, glancing over at Yuji for just a moment before focusing on the stove again.
“Well, good.  Ce-bause I told her you didn’t have friends, so maybe she could be your friend” 
Choso nearly chokes on air as he turns to Yuji again, a wince of a smile on his face.  Yuji’s grinning, of course, because he’s five and had all the best intentions in making sure his big brother had companionship, but Choso can’t help but worry that he’d killed his chances of getting to know her better.  She probably thought he was a creepy loner now.
“You… told her I didn’t have friends?” He repeats, hoping maybe the context will make things better.  Maybe Yuji hadn’t said exactly that.
“Yep!” The boy responds, popping his lips with certainty before tucking away the green crayon he was using.
Choso tries to hide the curl in his lip as he turns off the stove and plates the grilled cheese.  Relying on a five year old to be a decent wingman was too tall of an ask, he realizes.  Yuji’s cuteness could only carry him so far… if only he wasn’t such a blabbermouth.
“Well, hopefully she’ll still like me then” He mutters as he sets the plate in front of his brother.  Yuji beams as he thanks him, taking a large bite before going back to his coloring sheet.
Unbeknownst to Choso, Yuji held onto that little comment in his memory.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
To his luck, he happens to run into (y/n) just a week later.
He and Yuji were waiting at the elevator, with Yuji being a little more whiny than usual.  Choso had actually been praying for the doors to open faster so that he could get the two of them out of this building before his younger brother had a meltdown.
It wasn’t often that Yuji misbehaved.  He was a really good kid, who responded well to rules and structure, and was always polite where he needed to be.  He could get rowdy, and maybe he was more chatty with strangers (especially cute ones that live across the hall) than Choso would have liked, but he was a respectful little five year old with a good heart, and he wouldn’t ask anything more.
Except for today.
“But I don’t like her house.  It stinks.  And there’s too much cat hair!” Yuji whines.  He’s not being loud, but he’d had the whiny voice for the better part of an hour now, and Choso was starting to go a little crazy.
“I thought you loved Adelaine-san’s cats” He reminds him gently.
Truthfully, Choso wasn’t a fan of Yuji’s current babysitter either.  She was nice enough, but she overcharged, and she never seemed to feed Yuji food he actually liked- resulting in Choso having to pick up fast food on the way home every time he picked him up from babysitting.  However, she was the closest sitter to them, and she didn’t mind keeping Yuji late when Choso worked nights- which was often.
“I do, but there’s so many Choso-nii,” Yuji pouts up at his big brother.  “Gets stuck on my clothes” 
Despite being irritated with the whiny attitude, Choso can’t help but give his kid brother a small smile.  What five year old cared about fur sticking to clothes? Yuji was something special.
“Well, you can’t come with me to work-” 
Finally, the doors opened, but before the brothers could step in, (y/n) was stepping out.  With arms full of bags of groceries- almost a comical amount of bags.
“(y/n)-san!” Yuji cheered after seeing his long lost friend.  (It had been a week)
Despite her obvious struggling with her things, Yuji threw himself at her, eager for a hug.  Choso was quick to grab him by the hood of his truck-themed sweatshirt, reeling him back before he could make the poor girl drop her things.
“Let me help you” He offered, already reaching for the handles of the bags lower on her wrists.
“Oh, you don’t have to, I made it this far-” She starts to deny the offer, but Yuji’s piping up before she could finish.
“I’ll help too!” Yuuji declared, following his big brother’s example and taking two bags, one in each hand.
“Be careful with those, Yuji,” Choso says quietly.  “That’s food, you need to be gentle, like how we carry bread, remember?” 
Yuji nods affirmatively, already marching back down the hallway towards their doors.  Choso hopes he doesn’t think he can sneak back home with this little act of service.
“Thank you,” (y/n) chuckles as Choso loads his arms up with her bags.  “I don’t believe in making multiple trips” 
“Yeah, I gathered that,” He replies, smirking to himself as he did a quick count of all the bags between them.  What the hell did she need all these groceries for? Does she let her pantry run out before she makes a trip? “Caught you at the right time though, huh?” 
“You did,” She muses, digging a free hand into her pocket for her key.  Yuji was patiently waiting at her door, and she made sure to greet him with a big smile.  “And how have you been, Itadori Yuji?” She asks, unlocking the door and pushing it open with her hip.  To her amusement, Yuji strolled right into her apartment.
“Terrible, (y/n)-san!” He cries out.  
“Yuji, you can’t just walk into people’s-” 
“It’s alright,” (y/n) giggles before Choso could scold his brother for inviting himself into her home.  “Please, come in.  He’s just trying to help, can I get you boys something to drink?” 
“No, that’s alright, thank you, I actually-” 
Choso’s interrupted again, but this time by his nosy brother, who’s set the grocery bags down on the kitchen floor before marching back over to them and putting his hands on his hips.
“He’s making me go to the babysitter,” He whines to (y/n), who raises her brows as she nods back at him, taking him quite seriously- much to Choso’s dismay.  “I hate the babysitter!” 
Choso rolls his eyes as he’s setting his armful of bags on the counter.
“We don’t hate,” He says softly, but Yuji’s pout only worsens, before he gives (y/n) his best puppy dog eyes.  Choso sighs as he turns to (y/n).  “On Thursdays and Fridays I work at a bar, so he can’t come,” He explains quietly.  She nods at him too, giving him the same level of her understanding and attention.  If he wasn’t starting to run late, he would have reveled in it a little longer, just because it was cute.  “He thinks it’s the end of the world, but it’s not.  It’s only for a few hours-” 
“It’s torture, (y/n)-san!” Yuji reaches out to her, and on instinct she finds herself crouching down, returning his dramatic pout.
“Oh it sounds like torture!” She cries back.  For a moment, Yuji seems taken aback by the behavior, but he just as quickly lights up, and reaches towards her again.
“Can I stay here with you instead!?” He asks, already grinning ear to ear from the idea, before she’d even given him her approval.
“Yuji,” Choso sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.  What was it with his little brother and overstepping when it came to her? “I’ve already called Adelaine-san, she’s expecting us” He says pointedly. 
Yuji frowns, and this time it’s not like the baby faced pout he made before.  It’s a genuine disappointment in being told he had to go.
“I don’t mind,” (y/n) says softly, tilting her head to look up at Choso, waiting for him to decide whether or not he was alright with that.  “I can look after him for a while.  Then you don’t have to make an extra stop on your way home, we’ll be right here” She suggests.
Yuji’s grinning again in no time, bouncing on his feet before rushing over to his brother and clinging onto his pant leg.
“Please Choso-nii! Pleeaaase?” He whines, and somehow it’s more irritating than before.
(y/n) chuckles as she stands, stepping a little closer to speak under her breath, while Yuji was still whining and bouncing and not paying attention.
“Only if you’re okay with it, of course,” She says.  “I understand if you’re more comfortable with-” 
“You’d really be alright to take him for tonight?” He asks her, eyes flickering between hers.
She presses her lips together as she nods, trying to will herself not to get lost in his pretty dark eyes.
“Just for a few hours,” He repeats his earlier mention, and she nods again.  “You’re sure?” 
“She’s sure! She’s sure!” Yuji screeches, still pulling on Choso’s leg and waiting for the confirmation that he didn’t have to go to the smelly cat house.
“Alright… fine,” Choso agrees, and Yuji’s full on jumping now.  Choso only hoped he wasted off this excess energy so he was calm and good for (y/n) the rest of the night.  “But you have to be good.  If (y/l/n) has any problems she’ll tell me, and then it’s cat hair for the rest of your life, got it booger?” 
Yuji nods his head up and down repeatedly, so much so they’re surprised it doesn’t give him a head rush. 
“I’ll be good! I’ll be so good!” He promises.  Choso smiles, reaching a hand down to mess up his hair affectionately.
“I’ll give you my number, in case you change your mind, or if he… breaks something, or something” Choso mutters, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
(y/n) does the same, they swap, each plug in their contact, then swap back with shy smiles.
“I’m sure he’ll be lovely,” She tells him.  “Don’t worry about us, I have a lot of movies.  Maybe I’ll make him a big dinner and put him to sleep” 
The corner of his mouth tilts into a smirk.
“Works like a charm every time,” He murmurs.  “But I gotta get going, I don’t want to be too late” 
“Of course” She nods, headed towards the pile of grocery bags on her kitchen counter.
“I’m usually out around one, but if it’s any later I’ll text you, alright? Or- should I call?” He’s walking back towards the door, but he hesitates as he waits on her answer.
“Either works,” (y/n) shrugs with a small smile.  “Have a good night!” 
It’s stupid, but his face feels warm as he lingers at the door just a few seconds longer, before he nods back at her.
“You too, (y/l/n).  And thank you” 
Once he leaves and the door is shut behind him, (y/n) has to shake her head to rid the silly fluttery feeling in her chest.  
“Well,” She flattens her hands over the front of her pants, smoothing down the nonexistent wrinkles, before she turns to Yuji with a smile.  “How about while I put these groceries away, you let me know if you see anything you like and I’ll get started on that for dinner, hm?” 
“Did you get the dinosaur shaped macaroni?” Yuji asked hopefully.
(y/n) winces as she glances over her bags of produce, bread, and regular-shaped pastas.
“I… did not” She admits, and she actually feels a bit bad about being underprepared.  Even though she’d only taken on this babysitting gig five minutes ago.
“That’s okay,” Yuji shrugs.  “I like all sorts of things!” 
And he’s not wrong.  As she puts away the boundless groceries, Yuji points out all sorts of things he likes.  Fruits, veggies, he didn’t seem like a picky kid at all.  (y/n) actually found herself impressed by his wide palette.
“Choso-nii makes all sorts of stuff” Is what Yuji says when she compliments him on his taste.
“He’s a good cook, huh?” 
“Very good!” Yuji tells her.  “Maybe next time he’s not working you can eat with us, instead!” 
The insinuation has her cheeks flaring up with color and heat, but she politely agrees and tells him she would like that.
The rest of the night goes without a hitch.  Yuji teaches her how to play crazy 8s- even though the rules were simple and she’d memorized them when she was his age- and they play that while chatting over everything and nothing for a long while.  Yuji tells her all about his best friend Megumi.  Then when he runs out of things to say about him he talks about his favorite subjects, his favorite color, and that starts a long conversation about his favorite everything.
It’s obvious he tires himself out with all his chatting, so it’s not long after that when (y/n) shows him her movie collection and lets him pick one out.  It takes him some time, as he treats this task with the utmost importance.  He couldn’t make a bad choice, of course.  (y/n) doesn’t mind.  She’s come to shed the awkward layers and has learned exactly how to talk to Yuji.
She’s learned that taking everything he says to be completely serious and dive into a conversation about it as if he were anyone else seemed to do the trick.  Yuji liked to talk, and he had plenty to say.  Like how squeaky the swing sets were at school, and how he disliked when people used them because of it.  He was kind, and he was entertaining.  He was certainly the best company she’d taken up in a while.
When he picks the movie he settles in on her couch, cozying up in the fluffy blanket she’d grabbed for him, and he tells her that he picked one of his favorites.
The entire first half, Yuji is on the edge of his seat.  Both from watching his favorite animated movie, and also from watching (y/n’s) every reaction to it.  It started to grow on her, so eventually she really started to do up her reactions to every little scene.
At the halfway point she made him a big bowl of popcorn and only stole a handful of it when he wasn’t looking just to get a giggly reaction out of him.
Before she knew it, with a full belly, a cozy blanket, and his favorite movie, Yuji was dozing off on the couch.  
As quietly as she could, (y/n) got to work cleaning up the kitchen.  Although with how much energy Yuji had spent earlier in the night, he was sleeping as hard as a rock.
With nothing but time to spare, she decided now was as good a time as any to catch up on some reading.  So once everything was clean again, she settled in on the couch, tucked the blanket around Yuji, and got to reading.
She lost hours until her phone buzzed with a notification.
[ kamo choso ] : just got out, will be by in twenty minutes or so 
She liked the message so he knew she was still up and saw it.  She kept the chat open for a few more minutes, contemplating sending a message back.  sounds good! or he was great, out like a light! But the longer she hesitated the more she felt like too much time had passed, and it would be embarrassing to send a text.  So she didn’t.
She wasn’t able to focus much on reading after that.
Choso knocked on the door not too much later, twenty minutes to be exact, just like he said.  She tiptoes her way to the door, and smiles upon finding a very tired looking Choso on the other side.  The circles under his eyes look a little bit darker, his hair is starting to fall from his already messy buns, and he looks like he’s struggling to keep his eyes open.  Regardless, he lifts his head and gives her a small smile when she opens the door.
“Hey,” He hums.  “How was it?” 
“It was fun, actually,” She whispers back, checking over her shoulder to make sure Yuji was still sound asleep.  “He’s a really great kid.  You must be doing all sorts of things right” 
Her eyes crinkle when she smiles up at him, and for a moment- and maybe for the first time- Choso nearly forgot about Yuji.  He’s not sure anyone’s ever looked at him with the soft, sweet look that she’s looking at him with now.  He gets lost for a moment, practically drifting off right before her.
“Oh- you’re exhausted, come in,” (y/n) mistakes his look for tiredness, and steps out of the way to let him in.  “Yuji’s still sleeping on the couch.  He’s a hard sleeper, huh?”
“Very, yeah.  Building had a fire drill a few months back while he was having a nap.  Slept through the whole thing” 
(y/n) giggles to herself as Choso approaches the sofa, smiling at how content his kid brother seemed to be while curled up in the blanket, sound asleep.  He was careful as he stooped over to scoop him up.  It took some help from (y/n’s) part seeing as one of his hands had an iron grip on the blanket, but eventually he was free of the fluffy restraint, and Choso had him settled against his shoulder with ease.  As expected, Yuji remained asleep.
“Oh, I can’t believe I almost forgot,” Choso shifts Yuji to be held up by one arm so he had a free hand to reach into his pocket.  “I definitely owe you for this, what do you think is fair?” 
“Oh, no,” (y/n) shakes her head back at him.  “You don’t have to pay me, it was no trouble at all”
“You don’t have to say that, really, how much-?” 
“I don’t have to say it, I mean it,” (y/n) assures him.  “Really, he was a perfect kid.  I’d… I’d happily do it again, if you ever need” She offers, a nervous smile playing on her lips.
“Okay,” He returns the smile, but he still hesitates with his wallet in his hand.  “You’re sure I can’t give you something though? At least pay you back for the food?” 
“I’m sure” She has to bite down on her cheek to keep her laughter from ringing out too loudly.
Slowly, she follows him back to the door.  It’s later than she’s usually up, and she’s so tired that she’s sure she’ll pass out as soon as her head hits her pillow, but still she lingers at the door with him, waiting for him to say anything else.
“Well, then I can’t thank you enough.  I really appreciate it, (y/l/n).  Yuji did as well, I’m sure” 
“I think he did.  I hope, at least,” She murmurs, smiling fondly at how cozy Yuji seemed to be sleeping on his brother.  “And you can call me (y/n), by the way” She adds, almost as an afterthought.
Choso swallows the lump in his throat, nodding back at her as he waits for his voice to return to him.
“Alright,” He murmurs, finally crossing the threshold of her doorway.  “Good night then, (y/n)” 
Her heart is racing at a million miles an hour.  She fears it might shoot straight out of her chest like a bullet.
“Good night” She manages to murmur back as he crosses the hall, and she shuts the door behind him.
A sigh escapes her, and she realizes that she’d been holding her breath until she’s alone in her apartment again.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Things take off after that first time she babysat Yuji.
Occasional drop offs turned into frequent visits.  Yuji often wanted to stop by (y/n’s) apartment after Choso picked him up from school, eager to tell her about his day.  Whether Megumi brought snacks for lunch again because his caretaker had a sweet tooth, or if he wanted to show her that he learned how to do a cartwheel, there was always something.  Yuji was bountiful in excuses to go across the hall.
And to his delight, (y/n) ate it up.  She watched him more and more while Choso was at work, or running an errand that Yuji didn’t feel like tagging along to because suddenly he wanted to do his homework at (y/n’s) instead.  Choso had a habit of always double checking with her beforehand, sending her a quick text to see if she was even free.  And it seemed that every time, her door was open.  There was never a time where she turned them down.
She became Yuji’s regular babysitter, and after a while it barely even felt like babysitting.  His drawings and coloring pages decorated her fridge, he’d often leave a few toys behind, figuring he’d play with them the next time he was over, and he always used the same fluffy blanket when he’d be over late while Choso worked.
It was safe to say Yuji had grown attached to her, and fast.  Even when he wasn’t at her place, he wouldn’t shut up about it at home.  Not that Choso minded, he liked hearing about (y/n’s) day through Yuji’s eyes.  He got to learn all sorts of cute little things about her that way.
While Yuji had been spending more and more time with their neighbor, Choso couldn’t exactly say the same.  He chatted with her in passing, usually at dropoff and pickup, and he tried to text her more- funny Yuji-isms he heard throughout the day, memes, offers to leave money for dinner for the two of them- and even though she was always receptive over text, reacting to every image and responding to every message, it just didn’t feel like enough.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“Choso-nii, do you have a crush on (y/n)-san?” Yuji asked him one day, seemingly out of the blue.
They’re in the grocery store, where Yuji’s filling up the cart with junk, even from his booster seat in the cart.  Choso does a double take at his younger brother, as if the question registered a second late.
“What?” Is all he can muster.
Yuji blinks back at him.
“Do you have a crush on her?” He repeated himself, tilting his head and widening his eyes as he studied his big brother.
“Wh-why do you ask that?” He stammers over his words, although he wishes he would have reacted a little more coolly.  Did she say something? Did he give something away? Where in the world would Yuji pick up on that?
“I dunno,” Yuji shrugs.  “Ce-bause you should” 
Choso forgets the cereal boxes he was looking at, turning all of his attention to his little brother, since now he deemed this conversation required all of it.
“I should, huh?” He repeats curiously.  “What’s that mean, booger?” 
“She’s nice,” Yuji says bluntly, and Choso laughs softly at the reasoning.  “And funny.  And a good cook,” 
He continues to list all of his own favorite qualities of (y/n), sure that most of these reasons are perfect enough for his big brother to have romantic feelings for her.  At five years old, the most Yuji knew about romance was that the prince kissed the princess and everyone was happy, but it was a decent start.  He only wanted that same happiness for his big brother- and (y/n)-san- after all.
“She has a lot of movies.  And she’s really pretty” 
Choso smiles at his brother, finally settling on a brand of cereal and tossing it into the cart behind him.
“That so?” He asks teasingly.  “You sure you don’t have a little crush, booger?” 
“No!” Yuji squeals and begins to giggle.  His cheeks are red just from the accusation, and Choso can’t help but laugh at the display.  “She’s too old, Choso-nii!”
“Right answer,” Choso remarked, pushing the cart out of the aisle and weaving into the next one.  “But why the sudden interest, hm?” 
“Well…” Yuji drawled, glancing around the aisles to avoid his brother’s eyes.  “If you had a crush on her, and she had a crush on you, then you could live together, and we could get an even bigger house, with more toys, and we could eat all our breakfasts and dinners together, and watch movies together, and get a dog-” 
“Woah, woah, woah, you’re laying way too much on me, bud,” Choso chuckles, but he can’t deny that his face was starting to feel warm from all the conclusions Yuji was jumping to.  They were too wholesome for him to take.  “A dog?” 
“A puppy!” Yuji declares.  
To Choso’s luck, conversation steers in the direction of pets, and he spends the rest of their errand explaining why they weren’t getting a dog- or any animal for that matter.  Even if Yuji makes a convincing argument about how cute it’d be.
It’s better, though, because Choso needed some time to recover, and figure out exactly how he’d move out of this crushing stage.  If Yuji had taken notice of it- in his own odd way- then surely (y/n) had to feel it to some degree too, right? 
He just needed to find a good window to ask her out, and take her out properly.  Not just a quick coffee in the morning when Yuji wanted to come over for a bit.  A real date, outside of the building.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Choso finds that chance one afternoon after swinging by her apartment so Yuji could tell (y/n) all about his day at school.  She’s prepared him a snack today, celery sticks with peanut butter smeared down the middle.  She offered him the raisins to make the ants, but Yuji politely declined, seeing as he doesn’t eat bugs.  She doesn’t argue, simply pops the raisins into her own mouth as she listens to him ramble on and on.
As Yuji drags on his storytelling as long as he can, Choso’s sat at the counter, stealing a celery stick or two that Yuji wasn’t eating while he rambled away.  He’d grown used to his brother’s chatty nature, but he was always surprised how (y/n) was able to sit through it with her full attention.  She never zoned out, and never missed a detail.  In fact, she would ask him more questions to prompt him into talking more.  It was so endearing that Choso can’t help but smile as he watches her interact with Yuji so wholeheartedly.
It takes a grand total of twenty five minutes before Yuji’s done with all his stories for the day.  Choso sends him off to their apartment with his backpack, telling him to get started on his homework, and he’d be over in a few minutes.  Yuji doesn’t find the instruction odd at all, happy to get started on his worksheet for the night.
(y/n), however, gives Choso a puzzled look as he stays behind in her apartment.
“Is everything alright?” She asks on impulse.
While they had talked many times before, and she wouldn’t call him a stranger, this was the first time they were left completely alone, and she was all too aware of that fact.
“Yeah, yeah of course,” He chuckles at her knee jerk reaction to worry.  “I just… wanted to thank you.  Again” 
She still has a puzzled look on her face as she leans against the counter, waiting for a better explanation.
“Thank me?” She repeats softly.  “For what?” 
“For all your help, with Yuji,” Choso explains.  “For the babysitting, and dinners, and… and ants on a log,” He chuckles as his gaze drifts off to the leftover snacks on the counter.  “Our mom passed before Yuji could even get to know her, and I’ve… been doing this for so long it just sort of feels like it’s always just been the two of us, you know?” 
(y/n) hums quietly, keeping her response to a small nod.  Choso’s never opened up about their family history before, and Yuji was only five and never seemed to question his brother’s custody over him, so it wasn’t like (y/n) had ever heard anything like this before.
She wants him to know that she’s listening, that she’d always be here to help the both of them, because she’d grown to care for them both so much.
“But it’s been nice… your help, I mean,” Choso goes on.  “Yuji likes you a lot, a really lot, he never shuts up about you” 
She chuckles at that, the mood lightening again.
“Really?” She asks quietly, as if the boy could hear from across the hall.
“Yeah,” Choso’s eyes widen with the flair.  “But I’m glad, you know, that he has you.  Someone that’s not me for him to hang out with and talk to” 
“I am too,” She replies sweetly, a smile stretching across her face.  “He’s a really special kid, you’re quite lucky” 
His heart warms up so much he doesn’t think he could take it.
“I know not everyone sees it that way,” He thinks aloud.  “Most people tend to look at us and… want to leave,” 
The smile on her face begins to falter, but (y/n) tries to keep her expression neutral.  She’d never thought much about what other people thought about Choso and Yuji.  Why should she care? She knew them both well enough to know that they were happy, and that Choso was more than capable as his brother’s guardian.
Then his wording dawns a new thought on her.  Did people walk out of his life because of Yuji? The idea makes her sick.  It makes her stomach twist and her heartstrings pull tight.  Friends? Partners? Was Yuji such a dealbreaker that he couldn’t even have companionship?
She feels awful now, crushing on him so immaturely, not taking into account all the possible pasts he’d had with other people that had gone poorly because he had a kid to put to bed at a certain time.
Tears prick the corners of her eyes, but she’s determined not to let a single one fall.
“Anyways,” Choso clears his throat, laughing nervously as he looks back up at her again.  “I just think it’s important that you know how glad I am- that- that we both are- to have you around” He finishes with a small smile, his nerves eating away at his insides.
“Of course,” She mumbles back, her throat tightening up too much for her to speak any louder.  “Like I said, Yuji’s a special kid.  I want to be good to him,” She says, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth as she tries to feign joy, even with a heavy heart.  Then, she says, “And I want to be a good friend to you, too” 
His nerves come crashing down on him in an instant.  It piles up and morphs into something else entirely- something worse.  Dread.
He hopes that his expression remains neutral as he holds eye contact with her.  His mind battles itself as he tries to come up with what to say next.  They both sit there for a few painfully silent seconds as Choso weighs his options.
If he were a smoother man, one who was better with his words,  he would’ve taken his chance.  He would’ve articulated all of his thoughts in just the right way and let her know that he was starting to harbor a crush on her that was reaching embarrassing levels.  He’d crack a joke to lighten the mood after the confession, and then invite her out for a drink, or dinner- hell, maybe even both.
Those few seconds seemed to last too long but went by quick all at once.  The fact of the matter was that she was good for them.  She was good for Yuji, attentive and loving and so, so patient.  It was clear that she cared for him, and Yuji never hesitated to voice how much he enjoyed (y/n’s) companionship.
Choso was sure if he were to cross the wrong line now, he’d not only create an awkward tension with his neighbor, but also ruin the good thing that Yuji had going as well.  She was some idealized morph of a babysitter and a friend for him, someone he could go to when he needed help with homework, or to show her the toy he picked out with his allowance.  And at the end of the day, Choso wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did something to take that away.
So he swallowed whatever he was going to say, gave (y/n) a small smile, and nodded his head back at her.
“You are a good friend” He finally answers her with quiet agreement.
She assumes he’s a bit embarrassed to say something so corny, so she lets out a little laugh and begins to clean up the snack dishes off the counter.  Choso lingers around her place a little longer until he can’t take it anymore, bidding her goodbye with the request that she makes more snacks for their visits.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Despite Choso’s adamant attempts at convincing his little brother that he didn’t see (y/n) as anything other than a friend, Yuji was never fully convinced.  Choso wasn’t sure what it was that made Yuji so sure that there was something between them- one sided or otherwise- but he was relentless about it.  Any time they saw her in passing, as soon as he was alone with his big brother, Yuji would make some comment or another about it.
In the boy’s defense, the two were spending a lot more time around each other these days.  (y/n) had taken Choso’s words to heart and began preparing an after school snack every day, so when Yuji popped by for his usual visit, Choso was always in tow.  No matter what she’d prepared he was all over it.   A package of fruit snacks or homemade banana muffins, Choso was accepting the snack as if it were a bountiful harvest.
The brothers seemed to stay longer and longer in the passing weeks, and soon these visits became routine.  It didn’t take long, just under a month before Yuji was committed to making it an everyday occurrence.  But what began as a quick visit for a snack and then to jabber on to (y/n) about his day at school soon turned into something else, too.
Yuji would move on, often sitting on the floor at (y/n’s) little coffee table to do his homework, and Choso would hang out in her kitchen for a bit longer so they could catch up on the events Yuji was less than interested in.  Her work, his work, and anything that came to mind at all to keep the conversation from ceasing.  There were some days Choso overstayed his welcome so much that Yuji would want to go back to their apartment, and Choso would still stay longer at (y/n’s), drinking two more cups of tea than he would’ve liked, but any excuse to sit with her at the counter a little bit longer.
And then one day, he’d struck gold.
“I’m sorry it’s so hot in here, I’ve got the windows cracked but without a breeze it doesn’t really do much,” (y/n) had apologized in passing as she pulled out a few small plates for the snacks she’d made that afternoon.
Truthfully, Choso hadn’t noticed the heat until she brought his attention to it.  He was far too enamored with the cute pink apron she’d tied around herself.  She always wore it when she’d baked something- so he knew that when she opened the door to let him and Yuji in today that they were in for a very good afternoon snack.
“The AC’s been broken so long I forget I’m used to it, so it’s alright if you boys want to take your cookies to go” 
“Cookies!?” Yuji had squealed and raced into the kitchen, savoring the lingering scent of fresh baked cookies before it could evaporate.
Again, Choso almost missed his queue.  (y/n) had taken to referring to them as you boys a couple of weeks ago, something he’d picked up on the very first time she’d said it.  It was nothing special, really, it was a casual form of referring to them both, but god the sweet way her voice formed those words he could almost be deluded into believing it was because they were her boys, and the domesticity of it all had him reeling.
Luckily, he came back down to earth soon enough.
“Your AC’s broken?” He furrowed his brow and tilted his head curiously.  “Have you told maintenance about it?” 
(y/n) makes a face that’s somewhere between amusement and a wince, before plating up two cookies for Yuji.  He thanked her four or five times before he took the plate to the table and began to gobble them away.
“I… try not to call them if I don’t have to,” She explains to him, side eyeing Yuji at the table to be sure he was too focused on his cookies to eavesdrop.  “It’s just the AC anyways, I have a fan in my room and during the day the open windows are no problem” 
Choso’s expression doesn’t let up, his confusion getting ahead of him.
“And why don’t you call maintenance..?” He pushes, knowing that the nervous smile on her face wasn’t for nothing.
“Eh, well, um, when I first moved in and had some issues I called for them, but one of the guys really wanted my number… and then when that didn’t work he tried leaving me his, and it was just this… whole weird thing” 
She shakes her head and keeps her focus on packaging up the leftover cookies in a little tupperware container.  Unfortunately, she misses the amused little smirk on his face as he leans into the counter.
“So you’d rather sweat through the summer than tell a guy you’re not interested?” He asks, and that finally earns her attention.  Her eyes narrow at him slightly before she crosses her arms defensively.
“Oh, I made it clear that I wasn’t interested,” She mutters.  “How does turning down a phone number five times not scream uninterested?” 
Choso chuckles at that.
“Want me to take a look at it?” 
She looks surprised at first, and he’s not sure if it’s because of the offer itself or if she was genuinely shocked he had a clue what he was doing, but the look wears off into a soft smile.
“Really?” It comes out in an astonished murmur, before her eyes go wide and then she’s coming around the counter to stand closer to him, apparently still in disbelief that he’d do such a thing.  “You’d do that?” 
He laughs again, this time with a creeping smile trying to turn into a full blown grin.
“Yeah, of course,” He says, and she only brightens further at the promise.  “Least I can do to repay you for watching Yuji, for free” He reminds her, and she gives him a look that tells him what she always swears by- she’d do it for free as many times as they need- before brightening again.
To her surprise, again, Choso’s incredibly handy.  He told her he didn’t mind if she had something else to do, or hang out with Yuji while he was keeping busy in his coloring book, but she couldn’t help but watch while he tinkered around with the air conditioning unit.  It didn’t take him long to solve the issue at all, and when he had it all set up and it kicked into life she was cheering so excitedly Yuji even came over to enjoy the fresh gust of sweet cool air.
He ended up staying the rest of the night, fixing the squeaky vent, and the delayed garbage disposal, until he and Yuji couldn’t turn down her offer of dinner.  Well, Yuji vehemently agreed, Choso took a little bit of convincing.  He was eventually swayed by the gentle “Least I can do to repay you for fixing up my place, for free” that (y/n) uttered.
And just like the afternoon had gotten away from them, the evening soon did too.  Once dinner was finished the remainder sat on the table for a good hour as conversation poured out.  Yuji was enthusiastic in complimenting her food, only kissing up just a little in order to get an extra cookie with his dessert.
Choso was adamant in helping her clean up, despite her many assurances that she could handle it herself.
“C’mon, help me show Yuji how to be a proper guest,” He’d muttered, plucking the freshly washed dish out of her hand to dry off.  (y/n) made a face, knowing he’d offered just the right excuse to get her to give in.  Choso grinned back at her.  “That’s more like it” 
It was embarrassing how his smile had her heart racing, but she couldn’t deny it, and she certainly couldn’t help it.  All she could do was keep her head down and her focus on washing the dishes.
“Thanks again for dinner,” Choso murmured after a few minutes of diligent dish washing and drying.  He peeked a glance over at her, but it was clear that she was avoiding his gaze.  “It’s nice to have a home cooked meal.  Not that I can’t cook! I’m a great cook actually- I should really repay the favor- I just mean it’s nice to… be treated to one” 
No matter how hard she bites down on her lip, (y/n) can’t keep herself from giggling at his rambling.  While he’s been talking to her a lot more this past month or so, it’s often when prompted, and when he’s the first to speak, she could tell that he kept himself reserved.
It was refreshingly heartwarming to watch him stammer over his words now.
“Well… I wouldn’t turn that down,” She admits quietly, and it takes all the courage she can muster to glance at him out of the corner of her eye.  “But Yuji told me his favorite meal was chicken nuggets, so I’m not sure how convinced I am of your cooking ability” 
Choso turns towards her, catching her off guard by their close proximity, but she doesn’t shy away under his gaze.
“He’s five,” He argues with a playful roll of his eyes.  (y/n) snickers, hesitating as she turns back to washing up the last plate in the sink.  “But fine.  I’ll make him his own dinner, so you and I can enjoy something more refined, if that’s what you so please” 
The idea of just the two of them, eating a dinner he’s cooked, alone, has her cheeks burning up so quickly she can’t stand to look at him again.  So instead she murmurs out a weak agreement, and quickly excuses herself to check in on Yuji.
Yuji had sort of been playing with his action figures, but he’d mostly watched his brother and (y/n) whisper and laugh between themselves as they did the dishes at an excruciatingly slow pace.  He knew he wasn’t just seeing things, he knew what the giggling meant.  At least, in his own warped and childlike way.  He didn’t care to think about it too deeply, not because he was five, but because he wanted to accept what he was being shown at it’s face value-  his big brother finally making a true friend.
So when it was time for the brothers to go home, Yuji made sure to hug (y/n) extra long.  Even when she’d tried to pull away and stand up, he squeezed his arms tight around her.  If he held on long enough, maybe it would be enough for her to understand just how important she was to the both of them.  So (y/n) chuckled, returning the favor with an affectionate squeeze and a pat on his back before he finally let her go with the brightest smile on his gap-toothed face.
And then he’s tugging on his brother’s pant leg gently, before pushing his hand against the back of his knee and sending him stumbling towards (y/n).  Yuji’s not a toddler, he very well could have used his words to tell his big brother what he wanted him to do.
Choso catches his footing with ease but it’s his expression he can’t cover up.  A nervous smile and widened eyes as he silently scolds his little brother for the childish action.  He’s only met with that giant grin before he turns to (y/n).
She has the warmest smile on her face, as if she holds nothing but endearment for the embarrassing display.  He’s lucky at this moment, because she’s the first to step forward and raise her arms.  If it weren’t for her, Choso’s sure he would’ve fumbled this chance.
Her touch is delicate, as if the frame of his shoulders doesn’t double hers, as if she’s not reaching on the tips of her toes to fully wrap her arms around his neck before squeezing on.  Even her embrace is so thoughtfully gentle.  He can’t help but think it’s all for Yuji’s sake- he’s the one that prompted this little goodbye display, not that Choso is complaining- but he supposes she’s trying to appease the five year old while not crossing an unspoken boundary with him as well.
Choso overthinks this quick hug down every avenue he can, before realizing that he has to make sure she knows there’s no boundary in sight, so he circles his arms around her waist, returning the same soft squeeze as best he could.  He hoped there was still enough distance between them that she couldn’t feel just how seriously his heart took the casual affection, because it was pounding in his ears like it was trying to alert him.
It’s over in a matter of seconds, but he relishes in the way her hands slide across his shoulder blades before she steps away and drops them to her sides.  If he wasn’t dead sober and anchored in this moment, he might’ve purred.
It dawns on Choso that he might be the slightest bit touch starved.
There’s a pink to her cheeks now paired with her doughy smile, and he could almost stand here and admire how pretty she looks when she’s being bashful, no matter how embarrassing it would be to let time lapse as he did so.
“Well,” The word comes out of her in a wispy breath, and she smooths her hands over the nonexistent wrinkles in her shirt before continuing, brightening her smile as she glances between her visitors.  “I’ll see you boys after school tomorrow, yeah?”
Their responses overlap, but couldn’t have been more further apart
“Okay!” Yuji says with nothing short of glee.
“Of course” 
Choso’s voice is quieter than his brother’s, but it’s filled with such earnestness that it has (y/n) blinking back at him as if he’s just sworn a blood oath to her.  Her lips part as her eyes grow round and she’s at a loss of what’s normal in saying goodbye to your neighbor who you’re sort of friends with and you sort of have a crush on.  
All she can manage is a twitchy smile as she leads them to the door.  Yuji skips across the hall with delight.  Choso lingers for an extra moment and when his eyes meet hers, she finds herself gripping onto the edge of her door with a little more force.  Her eyes wander over the length of the black ink adorning his face before meeting his gaze.
“Thanks again for dinner,” He’s still speaking with that same low and steady tone.  (y/n) tried to gulp down the lump in her throat as she held his eye contact.  “I’ll text you about when I owe you one?” 
Unable to clear the block in her voice, she gives him a smile and a nod.  She hopes he doesn’t react awkwardly to her lack of verbal response, and he doesn’t.  In fact his timid smile turns into a beam.  It somehow makes his lips look even more plush and kissable- 
Her eyes shoot back up to his as she returns the grin and mumbles a pathetic sort of goodbye.  When she finally is able to shut the door behind him she heaves out a breath she hadn’t known was the source of the lump in her throat.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Choso started to reach out more, by whatever means necessary.  Anything to spend a little more time talking to her.
He texted first more, found excuses to stop by her apartment, and always lingered for too long when dropping off and picking up Yuji.  He even started playing the daily Wordle just to have something more to talk to her about. 
There were moments that he swore she felt what he did.  Little things, perhaps in the way she looked at him, or the sweet way she spoke quietly when it was just the two of them.  Choso was sure he wasn’t imagining things, because why else would she look at him like that? Why else would she always call his name when saying hello or goodbye?
[y/n]: u up? 12:47 a.m.
Even with the progress Choso felt he’d made in getting closer to her, this was completely new territory.
As late as it was, he’d been aimlessly scrolling through his phone, so when that little notification popped up he’d clicked on it right away.  He didn’t dare start typing- it would be humiliating if he created a bubble in the chat in the same second her message had sent- but he was upright and staring at the screen in disbelief.  
Soon enough a typing bubble appeared, and he gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he awaited further context.
Would it be ‘sorry, wrong person!’ or was she genuinely reaching out to him at this hour? It had been some time since he’d received one of these tell-tale messages, but his heart still raced with the anticipation.
Finally, her text appeared on his screen.
[y/n]: took a guy home after a date and he’s not taking the hint to leave.  mind popping over with an excuse so he’ll go? 12:49 a.m.
Choso’s out of his bed and sliding his feet into his slippers before he even starts typing up his response.  
But with how quickly he’s out the door he figures there’s no point in texting back a confirmation, seeing as he’s crossed the hall between their apartments and knocking on her door before the clock ticks to 12:50.
There’s the faintest sound of shuffling from inside, and he thinks he can make out that (y/n) is saying something, but he’s not sure what.  She opens the door and greets him with a brief second of pure relief and joy upon seeing him.
Only a brief second, however, as her expression morphs as soon as her eyes wander away from his face and nearly bulge out of her head.  In his rush to get out the door he’d forgotten to pull on a shirt- or maybe he’d decided it just wasn’t a necessity, he wasn’t sure himself.
Her mouth moves, but when no words come out, Choso takes it upon himself to deliver his golden, life saving excuse.
“Hey, (y/n/n), got any tea?” 
Honestly, it’s the first thing he comes up with.  It’s not the greatest lie of all time, but as soon as he asks for it he realizes his throat is a little parched and a warm cup of tea would be perfect for getting him to relax back in bed after this.  (y/n) let out the smallest of scoffs, the corner of her mouth tilting upward as she stares back at him as if to ask ‘a nickname and tea? is that the best you can do?’ 
He fully grins back at her, and as soon as she’s stepping out of the doorway he’s inviting himself in and making his way to the kitchen.  He doesn’t even spare a glance towards the man sitting on the couch, even though he’s blatantly watching Choso like a hawk as he casually rummages through (y/n’s) cabinets.  He’d been over often enough now that he knew where she kept everything he’d need, and he figured the more he made himself at home, the more this loser would feel threatened and leave.
“Uh- who’s this?” The man asked, still gawking at Choso and his naked torso, but the question is clearly directed at (y/n).
“Oh, this is Choso,” (y/n) replies sweetly.  She’s still standing at the door, a bit unsure of what to do with herself.  As much as she was hoping he would get her text and come to her rescue, she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do now.  “He’s my… neighbor”
Choso smirks to himself as he sets the kettle on the stove, and then finally turns to give her late night visitor a once over.
He’s not typically a jealous man, it just wasn’t in his nature.  However, the feeling he’s flooded with now as he stares down the wincing man who appeared to be half-hiding himself on the couch while Choso stared him down was something akin to jealousy.  It was pride.  All it took was one look for Choso to know that when this guy left her place, he would never return.  He would never see her again.  Even if he didn’t choose this for the sake of his own good, Choso would make sure of it.
What was she doing with this coward to begin with? He wonders as he watches the man stand from his seat.  Piercing violet eyes track his every movement, from the way he stuffs his hands into his pockets, to the bob in his throat when he swallows.
Choso’s smirk widens, and his gaze softens when it’s casted towards (y/n).
She looks unsure of what to do with herself, but as soon as she meets his eyes she shuffles towards the kitchen, putting more distance between herself and her unnamed visitor.
“You always have your neighbors over for tea in the middle of the night?” The man asks, perplexed by the entire situation.  He already has his doubts that this isn’t staged, but his obvious nerves make him lose all credibility.
Choso only chuckles to himself, casually leaning into her kitchen counter, closing some of the distance between himself and (y/n).  She casts him a look, and he can’t be too sure, but he assumes it means she doesn’t know what to say, so he takes over.
“I’m certainly the only one she opens the door for,” Choso responds with a smoothness that surprises even him.  He watches the realization sink in on the stranger’s face, before he moves closer to (y/n), poking her in the hip to gain her attention once more.  “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 
Her eyes are wide, and set on his in a deadlock.  Choso doesn’t think she even manages a blink.  She’s already rendered speechless by the unexpected comment.
But she closes her mouth and nods her head.  Not at her date for the evening- no, she doesn’t turn to look at him or even peek at him from the corner of her eye.  Her gaze is still locked on Choso’s as she nods back at him in a weak motion.  In that moment it’s not even an act for him when he chuckles back at her, his smile growing softer.
“Fucking fantastic” The man mutters, but he’s already grabbing his jacket off it’s hook and was making for the door without further explanation.  
Choso’s quite happy with himself, knowing that he made a complete stranger walk out of (y/n’s) apartment without having to be told to.  He didn’t have to do anything at all, really, all he did was show up and let himself in for a cup of tea.  It was only convenience that he’d opted out of a shirt for the whole ordeal.
The door opens and shuts and it takes that entire time for (y/n) to find her voice.
She smacks him on the arm first, though.
“What?” Choso chuckles as he rubs the spot in mock pain.
“You know what,” She hisses back at him, but the undeniable smile on her face makes her sound more playful than threatening.  “What the hell was that?” She even giggles through the question.  If she’s even trying to come across as scolding, Choso wouldn’t be able to take her seriously for even a second.  
“It worked, didn’t it?” He asks.
(y/n) makes a face at him.  A face that says enough.  She knows he’s full of shit.
The kettle begins to whistle just in time, and without giving her an answer, Choso turns around to put together his cup of tea.  (y/n) has to bring her hand to her mouth, afraid that just one heavier breath and he’d realize that her eyes had been straining to hold eye contact with him.
Of course this was ridiculous, because she knew Choso was a well built man.  But having him shirtless and in her kitchen as if he belonged there was making her face heat up faster than she could control it.  She pressed the pads of her fingers into her cheek in an attempt to cool down the skin.
“What was up with him anyways?” Choso asked, his back still turned to her as he focused on his drink.
(y/n) dodges the question.
“Are you really staying over for tea right now?” 
When he turns back to her, mug in hand and the slightest of furrows in his brow, she worries that she just might not be strong enough to handle this one.  Dropping her hand from her face, she straightens up her posture.
His hair is down, the thought is like poison, shooting through her train of thought and completely dissolving it.  It looks soft.  
“It was a nice enough evening…” She explains slowly, despite telling herself that she didn’t owe him any sort of explanation, there was a compulsion to tell him all about it.  Choso merely raises a brow before he sips his chamomile.  “I thought a few drinks back here would be nice, too.  Turns out he’s only got one good story and the rest is… boring” 
He laughs at that, lips curling into a grin and shoulders shaking just a little  bit.  (y/n) links her fingers together as she leans into her counter with a sigh.
“Think I could’ve told you that.  I’d have to give the guy credit for one good story.  Just running of first impressions, that is” 
(y/n) huffs again, this time a pout gracing her lips.
“Yeah, well, next time I’ll run it by you then” She mutters, and she doesn’t really mean it, but Choso takes an interest in the comment anyways.
“You’ll run it by me?” He smirks to himself.  “And what makes you think I’m gonna green light any more of these ‘nice enough evenings’, hm?”
“You’ve got a point.  What do you know about dating?” 
“What do you?” He throws the question back at her, and that pout is returning in an instant.
And then she’s dropping her head in her hands and groaning aloud.
“It’s stupid that you’re right,” She admits, dragging her hands down her face before setting her jaw in her palms.  “I don’t know what I’m doing at all.  What the hell is wrong with me? The last three dates I tried to go on have been like this.  Not terrible.  Not great.  Certainly not special or memorable- besides the sting of failure” 
Choso’s quiet for a moment, letting it all sink in before he spoke his piece.  His lips purse before he sets his mug down and takes a few steps closer.  (y/n) watches, but she doesn’t lift her head from her defeated position.
“It’s not you,” He says, and she’s surprised by the serious tone in his voice.  “Besides, you managed three dates, yeah? That’s something” 
“That’s just this week” (y/n) mutters.
Choso can’t hide the change in expression, and she must notice his shock, because her lips tilt into an amused little smile.
“Did you think I just sat around and waited to play babysitter?” She teased quietly.  “Not that I don’t love it, but I do have a life, y’know” 
He should say something, backtrack and explain himself before she assumes that he’s never given her free time a second thought.  He thought about it too much, really.  And had he known she’d been spending it on useless dates, he would’ve involved himself sooner.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.  Dating just… sucks” 
It’s lame advice, Choso knows that as soon as it comes out, but (y/n) nods her head in agreement before leaning off the counter and wrapping her arms around herself.
“It does suck,” She murmurs back.  “But… I’m scared that if I don’t put myself out there now then I won’t have…” She trails off, and a look of realization flashes over her features before she shakes her head.  “It’s late,” She says then.  “You should probably g-” 
“What were you going to say?” 
She blinks back at him, pausing as if to take a second to make sure he really meant it.  She chews on the inside of her cheek for an anxious beat before she opens her mouth again.
“What if I waste my time and never meet anyone that wants the things that I want and then I’ll be alone and it will all have been for… nothing…?” 
He smiles, but there’s a bittersweetness to it.  (y/n) seals her lips shut as she waits for his response.  She fears she’s embarrassed herself enough for one night, now it was his turn.
“You’re not wasting your time,” Choso starts slowly.  “You’re just… figuring out what you don’t want.  That’s just as important, don’t you think?”
A smile begins to crack in her features, and he feels relief to know that he’s at least sort of helping.
“Well, then so far we’ve crossed boring, creep, and loser off the list” She grumbles, and Choso chuckles to himself.
“Where does a girl like you find these losers?” 
He’d gotten too comfortable too fast and he realizes it as soon as her eyes widen up at him, not too much, but enough that he notices, and he knows that she’s caught the choice words of his loose lips.  A slight smile pulls on her parted lips as she thinks through just how she wants to call him out on it, but for right now, she relishes in the way his cheeks flush and his own eyes widen in panic.
“A girl like me, huh?” She teases, her soft smile turning into a full blown grin.  “And what do you mean by that, Choso?”
Again, he thinks she must know what she’s doing when his name drips from her voice like sweet honey.  Nothing else has ever weakened his insides quite like it.
“You know what I mean,” He tries to play it off casually, but her eyes narrow on him in disbelief.  “You’re super nice, and… easy to talk to” 
“Oh, right, I forget that super nice gets you everywhere” She exaggerates.
“You don’t need me to stand here and tell you you’re a catch, (y/n),” Choso sighs, and the playful crinkle in her nose dissipates, the rest of her features softening along with it.  “You have to know that” 
It’s quiet for a moment, and she’s staring at him with what he worries is disbelief.  Was she not taking him seriously? Did she think he was only joking? Well that simply wouldn’t do, he couldn’t possibly leave her apartment now until he was sure she knew just how wrong she was.
So he ignores the nerves prickling his skin warning him not to cross too many lines at once and he speaks up again.
“C’mon, I mean, obvious stuff aside, anyone would be lucky to score a date with you.  You’re excellent company, I mean, you don’t know how often I lose time when I’m talking with you.  It’s never a dull moment, even when it’s quiet, and I think that’s just about the most important quality in a person, don’t you?” It’s a rhetorical question, but even if she wanted to answer, Choso gives her no time to do so.  “You’re funny, in the witty way that I can’t keep up with and in the silly way that Yuji’s so taken with.  You’re patient, and generous, and kind,”
Her lips part, but there’s nothing she could possibly say to him right now.  Her mind has been wiped blank.  All that she can hear now are the words he’s saying, and she’s not even sure that this isn’t all a dream at this moment and she’s not about to wake up in her bed with a funny feeling.  Her heart was beating so hard she feared it would leap right out of her chest and she’s helpless to stop it.  Nonetheless, she wants nothing more than for him to keep going.
“You’re smart, and capable of anything, and you’re not afraid of chasing the things you want,” Choso goes on, and he doesn’t stutter once.  Every word is spoken with precision, as though rehearsed.  Or maybe it just came to him that naturally.  “Yuji loves you and that’s all the more I could ever want.  You’re the first person he’s really attached himself to, you know.  He never… he never really cared for anyone the way he cares about you,” 
Tears have started to well up in her eyes, but it’s still not enough to stop the seamless train of thought he’s spewing out.  If he notices this, he doesn’t comment on it.  He just keeps going.
“But it’s clear that he loves you and it’s clear as day why.  Anyone with eyes and an ounce of a brain would feel the same.  And they should.  And it’s really a pity that so far no one’s managed to behave the way you deserve, and treat you the way you deserve” 
She thinks he’s finished, only because he’s paused long enough and he’s staring at her now as if everything he’d just said was now being displayed on a teleprompter before him.  At first, all she can manage is a small gasp to clear the lump in her throat.
“You-” She starts, but her voice fails her and she has to shake her head to convince herself to ignore her nerves.  “You really mean all of that?” 
It’s a whisper so soft that even a creak in the floorboards would have overpowered her voice.  But the apartment is dead silent.  All she can do is stand frozen in place as she watches him and waits for his answer, for the confirmation that he really had just said the kindest, most beautiful things anyone has ever said to her, seemingly out of nowhere.
During his pause, she steps closer, glossy eyes remaining focused on him, as if a single blink could cause her to miss his next words.  There had been few moments in her life that she’d felt worried over missing- but right now if you’d asked her to name them she would probably come up short.
“I… don’t say things I don’t mean,” He tells her in a moment of unfiltered honesty- which he was on a streak with tonight.  
(y/n) gives him a faint nod in return as she tries to blink away the wetness in her eyes.  There wasn’t a chance she’d let herself cry in front of him right now- not at one in the morning after he already had to rescue her from a dead end date.
For all of his forwardness, Choso’s throat has gone so dry he knows that his next words will come out in a strained out scratch.  He feels like there’s a spotlight on him, even though the lighting in her apartment is so dim there’s shadows casted over the expanse of her left cheek.  It paints her into a silhouette that he believes could be hung in every museum.  When he tries to take a gulp to ease the dryness of his throat, it’s faintly audible.
A quiet sound of amusement breezes past her lips before they quirk up into a smile so gentle Choso swears only a soft stroke of a paintbrush could capture it in it’s full essence.  He might just have to pick up the hobby of painting if he wishes to fully preserve this image.  Honesty strikes him again in his moment of inspiration.
“(y/n) you should know that I’m starting to have feelings for you,” 
It’s a murmured confession, spoken so genuinely from the bottom of his heart that (y/n) can feel them filling her own heart with a gooey warmth.
“Well, not starting, I- I’ve known about it for a while, actually,” 
He seems to stammer and partially mumble over his words as soon as he’d started to speak with certainty, but it doesn’t make them any less true.  (y/n) knows this, and he can tell in the way her eyes seem to hold stars as she stares at him with pure marvel.  It makes him concerned that she’s never heard these things before.
“But, y’know, I didn’t want to say anything because of how much Yuuji adored you and I didn’t want to do anything to disrupt that,” 
Before he knows it, Choso’s rambling, but (y/n’s) patient and takes in everything he has to say.  She’s never seen him unload so many thoughts like this, and even with her heart on the brink of beating out of her chest, she takes in everything he has to say.
“In the past he’s sort of just shut down around anyone I’ve gone out with, or tried to, at least.  It’s just not like him, to be quiet, or shy.  I hated seeing him like that.  I don’t know what it was, why he never got comfortable around anyone, and I didn’t know if it would always be like that…” 
Choso trails off for a moment, starting to realize just how much oversharing he was doing tonight.  Maybe it was the late hour, or maybe it was that look she’d held in her eyes all night, like she was holding something back as well, but whatever finally pushed him over the edge to spill his every hidden thought was a driving force so strong nothing could have prevented it now.
“But then he found you and he was just… taken,” A quiet laugh falls from his lips as he thinks fondly about the adoration his little brother holds for her.  Sheepishly, he finishes his train of thought.  “And I guess that rubbed off on me, too” 
Her lips are wobbly at first as they form a wider smile, and then she’s making a short shuffle forward, putting them both toe to toe.
“You didn’t want to tell me you had feelings for me because you thought Yuuji would be upset?” She asks him, like maybe she’s not sure she understood him right.  Choso seals his lips together as he gives a faint nod in return.  Her head tilts to the side, her round eyes narrowing as an aura of curiosity settling over her as she gazes up at him.  “And you think I’m a catch?” She repeats his earlier statement, and lets out a breathless and short laugh when she watches color flush his face.  “So… what’s so different now that you decided to tell me?” 
Her fingers latch around the hem of the shirt she’s wearing, twisting at the material in short nervous movements.  However the clear sign of nervousness is easy to overlook when she’s staring at him so intensely.  His sincerity tonight had been a blessing that she was going to milk for all it’s worth.  Once she got a taste for how deeply Choso felt his feelings, she just had to know more, even if it meant pushing him to share more.  Although she hoped her eagerness wouldn’t drive him out of her home, she hoped he’d stay until she got her fill of all of his thoughts.
“I don’t know,” He sighs, and his shoulders fall slightly as he visibly relaxes.  It makes her wonder if he’d been tense this whole time, if she’d put him on edge by standing there while he made confession after confession.  The thought makes her swoon just a little bit harder- if possible.  “I guess… I just couldn’t hold it in anymore,” 
Her brows cinch together as her expression morphs, into something he worries is pity, so he frowns.
“I did try, just for the record” He tells her suddenly.  The change in tone makes her chuckle in her confusion.
“Tried what?” 
“Tried telling you,” Choso clarifies, “Months ago” 
“What?” She shakes her head in disbelief, a slight frown tugging on her lips as she tries to recall when he was referring to.  Surely she’d remember an attempt of him asking her out, or telling her about his feelings.  Yet nothing comes to mind.  “You did no such thing” 
“I did,” He insists, laughing humorlessly, but the sound lightens the mood between them and (y/n) finds herself laughing along with him.  Although hers holds more amusement than his had.  “And then you put me in the friend-zone.  Or neighbor-zone.  Or Yuji’s brother-zone” 
“I absolutely did not!” Her voice cracks as it raises to it’s usual volume, the soft whispers of earlier long gone as another laugh rips out of her chest at his insinuation.  “Don’t tell me you actually thought that” 
The seriousness in her voice has his heart strings tightening to their fullest extent, straining and quivering on the brink of snapping completely.  At this point, Choso thinks that she’s well aware of the emotional warfare she’s using against him, but then he catches that glossy look she still held in her eyes and he thinks she’s just as weakened by her own ardency as he was by his.
“Trust me, had I known different, things would be different” He says, raising a hand to drag a finger in the space between them to make the context clear.
Soft surprise adorns her face as he’s the first to surrender in their game of dancing around it, and it’s quiet for a few beats as she waits for her heart to calm down enough where she can speak without a tremble in her words.
“I’m telling you different right now, aren’t I?” 
The silence of her apartment is deafening.  Seconds pass like years as he stares back at her, his eyes shifting between hers as quickly as they possibly could, a sudden desperation in being able to read her expression clear on him.  Patience was just a part of Choso’s nature- it had to be when he alone was raising a five year old like Yuji- but any thought of moving slowly was thrown out the window as soon as he was finally sure of that look in her eyes.
“I want to kiss you,” 
He moves forward then, his hands moving as fast as his words as they land on her jaw, and despite their swiftness his touch is gentle.  They cup under her face with thoughtful softness, and as soon as he’s touching her, his patience is restored.  Suddenly he has all the time in the world, and he lets his gaze slowly trace over every little feature of her face until he’s sure he’s memorized every last inch.  (y/n’s) expectant before him, her lashes fluttering as her eyes shift repeatedly between his lips and his own gaze.  He wasn’t taking the hint, and unfortunately, her voice was caught in her throat.  She’d seemed to have lost it as soon as the rough pad of his thumb began to trace the length of her jaw to her chin.
After taking his sweet time, he pushes closer, tilting her chin upwards so that his nose could just barely graze past hers.
“Can I kiss you?” 
The murmured request is so close to her own lips she can practically feel them moving against her own.  Her nod of approval isn’t complete before the minimal space left between them is finally closed, and warm lips press against her own with the same gentleness of his hands.
She returns the softness at first, moving her lips against his with an experimental curiosity, but it’s not long before she can stop herself from reaching out to him.  His bare chest is warm under her palms, and at first contact all she does is press her hands against it, fingers splayed out to feel every warm inch of skin that she can.  Choso’s fingers flex and tense against her jaw upon the sensation that he hadn’t felt in so long it was almost unfamiliar.
But her touch was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.  The pads of her fingers were soft as they moved across his skin, slow but sure as they mapped over his chest and around his shoulders, yet the light graze of her nails was just enough sharpness to leave goosebumps in the wake of her path.  Even when a sigh is shuddered out of him, she doesn’t part from their kiss.
Choso can’t help but slide a large hand around the back of her neck, keeping her close to him even as they both begin to gasp for air between kisses.  The soft newness of it all is quickly replaced by a hot need to not stop.  It’s evident in the way their touches begin to lose shyness, and soon their grabbing and pulling at one another as their kisses grow messy and uncoordinated.
She presses as close to him as she can get, even with her own body heat reaching uncomfortable peaks, she still desired to feel his warmth.  More than that, though, she wanted to card her hands through his hair- and she did just that.  She’s rewarded with a soft whimper against her lips when her fingers dive into the roots and tug just a little bit before combing through the rest of it.
When she moves to do it again, a pair of hands seize her hips, and their lips are properly parted for the first time since he’d first kissed her as he lifts her up with ease, turning to drop her onto her kitchen counter before pressing close to catch her lips with his again.  She’s rendered breathless from the movement- after already trying to catch up in her breathing during their sudden makeout session- but there’s not an ounce of protest in her when Choso pulls her knees apart in order to slot himself between her legs and continue where they left off.
Her arms wind around his neck as she pulls him down the short distance to kiss him properly.  The height difference between them now isn’t nearly as drastic as when she was standing, but it’s still noticeable even as she’s perched on the counter.
Her heaving chest only becomes noticeable to Choso once his hands are making their way from her thighs towards her ribs, where he feels them expanding and contracting at an alarming rate.  He lets out a chuckle and breaks apart from her, his amusement only furthered when her lips chase after his, despite her panting for air.
“(y/n), sweetheart,” He murmurs affectionately as he catches her chin between his thumb and forefinger to halt her from kissing him again.  When her eyes open to meet his, her eyelids hang heavy over her dilated pupils, and Choso’s so struck with awe at her beauty in this moment he’d nearly forgotten why he’d stopped kissing her in the first place.  “Want you to catch your breath” He mumbles, the pad of his thumb reaching up to drag over the swollen plushness of her bottom lip.
Somehow, they look even more kissable than before.  Especially paired with her flushed cheeks and the dreamy look in her eyes as she peers up at him through her heavy and fluttering eyelashes.
She leans forward, but she doesn’t try to kiss him again.  She’s just filled with such a strong desire to stay close to him that she couldn’t bear to be the few inches apart that he’d distanced them with.  He smiles softly at her as her hand begins to sweetly comb through his hair.  It’s not the same motion as before, it holds a different feeling in the way she moves slowly, and with no grip at all, and yet his chest is filled with the same overwhelming adoration as when she’d had her hands fisted in it.  He decides to let his hair hang loose more often from here on out.
“I can’t stay,” He murmurs after a long but comfortable silence between them.  “Yuji…” He trails off, but she gets the idea, and nods back at him.
“I understand,” She whispers back, followed by a bittersweet smile.  “It’s alright…” 
“He’s staying at Megumi’s this weekend, though,” He mentions, his eyes following the movement of his thumb as it grazes over her lip, enamored with the way the plushness of it gave in even under his gentle touch.  “We’ll go on a proper date then, hm?” He offers with a hopeful look.
“Sure,” (y/n) smiles, and then playfully purses her lips to peck a light kiss against his thumb.  “Or you could just come over for tea again,” She suggests instead, followed by a short giggle.
His cheeks and neck flush with a rosy hue, but he nods back at her in agreement.  
It was a date.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“So, does this mean you’ll get married?” 
Yuji’s blunt question has Choso choking on his drink.  Burying her face in his shoulder, (y/n) tries to suppress her laughter, but it’s obvious in the way she snorts and her shoulders shake.  Meanwhile, Yuji’s still sat on the floor in front of them, half watching the movie that’s playing and half checking on the two of them as he awaits an answer.
After a few weeks of going out and ensuring one another that their change in relationship was working, more than working, Choso and (y/n) thought it was the proper time to break the news to the little boy.  It wasn’t much of a surprise when he was excited to hear it, but the first question that came to his mind wasn’t as expected.
“Well, maybe, buddy, let’s just cross that bridge when we get there, yeah?” (y/n) answers him with a kind smile, even though the idea of marriage so early in their relationship as her face burning and her heart beating wildly in her chest.
“Okay” Yuji accepts the answer and goes back to watching the movie for a bit.
Choso finally clears his throat and settles back into his comfortable position on the couch, (y/n) still tucked under his arm and pressed into his side in just the way he liked, and after a few minutes of mentally calming himself down he really did relax again.
“We’ll still live together and get a dog though, right, Choso-nii?” 
(y/n) could feel every muscle in his body tense, but she still can’t help but look over at him with a questioning raise in her brow and a purse in her lips as she smiled.
“You told him we were getting a dog?” She hums curiously, waiting for his explanation of his little brother’s question.
A nervous, breathless laugh falls from his lips.
“You’re only focused on the dog part?” He asks, wondering what her thoughts were on the living together part.  (y/n) hums, and shrugs a shoulder before she leans into him again, her focus on the movie as she settles against his shoulder comfortably.
“Well, I’m more of a cat person,” She replies, knowing fully well that wasn’t what he was implying.  “Then again, a house vote would be fair” 
Yuji seems enthusiastic about this compromise, and doesn’t seem to have any more questions for his big brother and his new girlfriend as he completely immersed himself in the movie once more.
With the arm he had wrapped around her, Choso tugs (y/n) a little bit closer, until he’s able to drop a kiss on the top of her head, before he leans into her as well and a comfortable silence settles over the room as they all grow sleepy watching a film together.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
[ hold me, love me, touch me, honey // be the first who ever did ] 
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
xoxo ~ jordie
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icaruspendragon · 1 month ago
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one time I was kayaking with some friends and we came around a bend that had a little beach. the bank held a few families with little kids. all of whom were having a grand time doing river beach in bumfuck, tennessee activities.
as we were out in nature, there happened to be a little snake guy swimming through the water, just minding his business doing river snake in bumfuck, tennessee things.
upon spotting the little snake guy, one of the adults calls the kids back to shore. not an unexpected move as there are several venomous snakes to watch out for in the south–namely copperheads, rattle snakes, and cottonmouths. cottonmouths are also referred to as water moccasins, a moniker earned as they are frequently found in/near bodies of water. most children in the south are taught which snakes to avoid pretty early on. and so understandably the snake warning makes the kids scared. my "brother" skylar was the closest to our slithery little guy. he calls out to the bank that the snake is harmless.
now. as a kid who grew up in bumfuck, alabama watching animal planet I've always loved little creatures.
my summers were spent exploring creeks and swamps looking for crawdads and little fishies and lizards and turtles and snakes and pollywogs and salamanders and frogs.
did this love for little creatures cause an inadvertent introduction of an invasive species? yes. but sometimes childhood curiosity causes whoopsie-doodles.
my love for little creatures never went away. I was curious, not afraid. and as fortune favors the bold, the snake swam my way. once the little creature was close enough, I gently lifted it from the water with my paddle so I could get a better look.
it looked like a snake.
my friend slid off and back into the water, swimming closer to me, under my kayak, then popping up on the other side. now that it was near enough, that childhood curiosity came back in full force. I did what I thought anyone in my situation would do.
I gave my snaky friend a couple of light strokes on the tail as he swam away.
once we were a ways around the bumfuck, tennessee river beach, skylar turns to me and furiously whisper-shouts, "why the fuck did you touch that thing?" confused by his ire I say, "because you said it was harmless?"
he gives me a look that can only be described as incredulous before speaking again, "yeah dumbass. I was lying because I didn't want those kids to freak out. the adults knew what kind of snake it was."
brow furrowed, I demand, "then why the fuck did you let me touch it?"
that's when my husband, who previously hadn't been listening to our conversation asks, "wait? did you really touch it?"
I give him a Look. "of course I did, that shouldn't be surprising."
our party stops paddling, all eyes are now on me.
"you touching a snake isn't the issue. the issue is you touching a water moccasin."
it's my turn to be incredulous. "how the fuck was I supposed to know that? skylar said it was harmless, so of course I touched it!"
"all skylar does is lie to fuck around around with people, something you most definitely know."
skylar chimes in once more, "to be fair to myself, I thought she knew I was lying."
obviously I did not.
anyway. the moral of this story is to not let your childlike wonder in the world around you die so that you may forevermore go on curiosity quests.
also maybe don't trust your "brother" when it comes to venomous wildlife.
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justlemmeadoreyou · 1 year ago
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Hopelessly Devoted to You
In which Y/n just wants to leave her abusive husband, and Harry is hopelessly devoted to her
Words: 1.9k
Warnings: Mentions of an abusive marriage, domestic violence and abuse, crying.
This one is going to be angsty, with two lovesick morons who are too scared to admit their feelings for each other. There are going to be mentions of abuse, so read at your own risk.
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Dropping Ellie to school, she thinks this is her happy place. With her kid, talking about how she finds elephants interesting, how she loves eggos, and the girl who sits next to her bites her nails all the time.
She's smiling on the car seat all the way to the school, contrary to how she is at home.
She tries her best to shield her away from her god-awful marriage, but sometimes, it's too damn difficult.
Like last night, when as soon as Elliot was home, she had sent her to her room, which she had gotten soundproofed with the money she had saved for months. She had told her to lock the door tightly, because Daddy had come home.
As soon as he entered, she realized he was drunk.
That was just how he came home nowadays, drunk off his ass, not even understanding his surroundings. She wondered how he even managed to make his way back home.
He stumbled from the doorway, having struggled with his keys for over 5 minutes. She was already sweating by now, hands clammy and her heartbeat rising.
"The fuck, fucking-" he cursed as soon as he was in, throwing his shoes and socks away. He threw his bag away too, and stumbled till he reached the dining table, glaring up at Y/n.
She didn't say anything to him. Knowing he would get angry if she did.
"Give me water" he ordered, and she got one glass, holding it under the tap, filling it up with water. She turned it off, turning around, and giving it to him.
He drank it in one go, some of it falling on his shirt. Messily wiping his mouth, he threw the glass away, and she was startled.
"Where's my food?"
She went back into the kitchen, taking the plate she had already taken out for him, and placing it in front of him.
"What the fuck? How many times do I have to tell you, I don't like meatballs? Are you that fucking dumb that you can't understand?"
That's when he threw the plate away, and a couple utensils too, which were lying on the dining table.
She knew Ellie would've heard it, and she quickly took a few steps back, preparing herself to turn around and run away, in case he pranced at her.
And that, he did. Thankfully, she knew just how to run from him, so he wouldn't catch up to her, and locked herself in the room with Ellie.
He was banging at the door, screaming curses at her. Calling her everything she had hoped she would never have to hear again.
With Ellie crying in her mum's arms, with continuous banging on the door, that threatened to break it, she knew she wanted it to end.
She knew she wanted a divorce.
.       .       .
"I'll pay for the lawyer if you want. Money is no issue for me, you know that, Y/n" he said, genuinely wanting to help her out of this marriage. He wants the best for her, for her to be happy again. Whenever he looks at her, his heart beats faster.
He still doesn't understand why she still wears the wedding ring he gave her. She's moved on from him, but still carries pieces of him with her. Given, most of them are tears and hurt marks, and looking at them makes his heart cry. And the purple bruise on her neck makes him want to kill Elliot. Piece by piece. Break him, beat him up, to make up for all the times he did the same to Y/n.
Her hand is just inches away from his, resting softly on the armrest. His finger twitches, and he wants her to hold his hand, to tell her that she will be alright. But she won't.
And he can't.
She lifted her gaze, looking into his kind eyes. He was good...and sometimes, it felt as if he was too good to be real.
"Oh" she replied. It was the only way out for her, because getting money from her parents was a lost cause. Her friends couldn't help her too, because she was too deep in this shit to be pulled out easily.
"Think about it. Sleep over it too, maybe? You can tell me tomorrow, or the day after it. I'll be waiting" he says, and "for you, right here" remain lodged in his throat.
"Thank-thank you, Mr. Styles, I-You're so kind to me, to Ellie-" her voice breaks, and he knows she will cry if he doesn't stop her. "Everything you've done-"
"It's my job, Y/n. It's what I do for everyone. Some need less help, and some need more. It's no big deal" he reassures her, and she nods.
"But still, thank you so, so much. I'll-I'll forever be grateful to you for this" she smiles, and he smiles back. His dimples are on show, on soft, squishy cheeks, that she wants to caress, to hold, to place a soft kiss on.
"So, you can-you can call me when you've thought over it, and I'll get the paperwork started." he straightens his suit, and she clears her throat. "Yeah-yeah, I'll call you, Mr. Styles"
"You can call me Harry. Here's my card"
She smiles, taking the business card from him, and keeping it in the back of her phone cover. In case Elliot checks her bag, he's too dumb to look in her phone cover.
He smiles at her, despite knowing why she did it, and it breaks his heart even more.
. . .
Harry was a good person. She had met him at a summer camp she had taken Ellie to, where he had bought his niece, Evie. They were 4, and Ellie got super excited when she found out that their names began with "E". As soon as they met, they hit it off, holding each other's hand, and running away from Harry and Y/n.
"I'm sorry-she-she gets super excited sometimes, she doesn't listen" Y/n apologized, and that was the first time he looked at her. Into her pretty, pretty eyes, that made him seem dull.
"Oh-no, don't apologize, it's all right. She doesn't have kids of her age near her parents' home, so I took her here so she could have some fun"
"So-she's not your kid?" she asked, her hands fidgeting in front of her.
"No-she's my niece. My sister's daughter. I'm Harry" he said, offering her hand to her for a handshake.
She took it, smiling. 
“I’m Y/n” 
He seemed nice, bringing her niece for a weekend long camp. He seemed like the cool and care free uncle every kid wanted, who would let them do anything. As she looked into his eyes, an emerald shade with the brightest shine, she had no idea this stranger would be a lifesaver for her one day.
“So, you from around here?” he asked, taking his hand back. The handshake had lasted for much longer than they both intended, and to his surprise, his hand was all wet when he pulled back.
Y/n lowered her head, mentally cursing herself for being so weird.
“I’m sorry, Harry-I-sometimes get super nervous around new people, and my hands-they get all sweaty. I’m sorry”
“No, no, it’s alright. No need to apologize.” he wiped his hand on his beige pants, and she still felt bad for the faint spot that developed on which looked like custom tailored pants. 
She turned, getting hold of her purse, and opening the chain. She fished out a fresh handkerchief, which she had kept for Ellie, because she always eats messily, getting crumbs all over her face and clothes. But Y/n adores it, and she smiles everytime she cutely says, “Mumma, hanky” with a bright smile, so proud of herself for that.
“Here-take this,” she offered him her napkin, a white one with pink flowers laced on it.
He will to keep it forever, he thinks.
And that he did, too. The same handkerchief, unused by him because he couldn’t bring himself to do anything that would make the softness, and the smell of her perfume laced in it, go away. It sits in his cupboard, in one of the two lockers that he has. 
“Thank you” he takes it, stuffing it in his pocket.
They go for a walk after that, looking at all the camp-activities that were in the brochure. The swings, the activities, the areas allocated for different sports, with so many children running around with sports equipment.
“I think she really needed it, you know. She worked hard throughout the year, doing all her assignments and homework on time. She also did her science project all by herself, without even any help from me and Elliot. Can you believe that?”
She looked so, so pretty, talking proudly about her daughter.
“And Elliot is-?”
“My husband, yeah”
Harry thinks she would be proud, or happy, at least, while telling him that she has a husband. But she doesn’t, and she hopes he doesn’t notice the small frown that creeps up her face, her smile fading with just the mention of his name.
Unfortunately, he does.
.         .        .
Throughout the day, they spend time together. Sitting on the swings, talking bout their pasts and smiling and giggling, like a couple of teenagers in love. But, they’re far from that.
Y/n thinks she hasn’t been so happy in a while. She hasn’t laughed this much in a while too, nor had a normal conversation with an adult.
So, when Ellie told her there was going to be a week long summer camp, she made sure she was the one to go with he. She just wanted to step out of the house, and meet some new people, have normal conversations, unlike the screaming and arguing she endured almost everyday.
And Harry…well, he’s Harry. His heart skips a beat every time she smiles, so carefree and beautiful. The way her face glows in the sun, and the tiny crinkles that form when she squints them to see him in the sunlight. Her hair, that flows freely in the warm air, and the biggest smile on her face as she tries to tie them up, but they just keep slipping out of her grasp.
He can't help but be captivated by her presence, his gaze lingering on her with an intensity he can't quite explain. Her smile seems to light up the entire landscape, and he finds himself enchanted by the way she effortlessly radiates joy. Even though, she had been quite opposite of that for a while. He feels a warmth spread through him whenever she looks his way, a feeling he can't quite put into words but cherishes nonetheless. 
Yeah, he’s in love with her.
(next part)
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
tell me if you like this! i might consider a part 2, because this was sitting in my drafts and i know this isn't soo good!
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meggtheegg · 1 year ago
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FNAF Movie Theory...
I'm pretty sure there's still one major plot twist in the universe of the movie that's been set up for a sequel but hasn't actually happened yet. Heavy spoilers under the cut:
After watching the movie in theaters and then revisiting a few scenes on Peacock, I'm still kind of convinced that Mike Schmidt is Michael Afton.
Here's my reasoning. A lot of the characters spend time acting like they know something the audience/other characters don't, and those things are...mostly resolved. But some of them just...kind of aren't.
The main thing that sticks out to me is William's whole storyline. Starting with the scene where he offers Mike the job, his behavior is almost explained by the movie's logic. He sees Mike's name, seems...kind of deeply upset, looks at him very closely, stands to get coffee, and has a moment of visible internal conflict. Then he instantly offers him the Freddy's job. The way the movie frames this, it seems to be saying that he recognized the name of one of his victims, realized this was the kid's brother, and decided to kill him right then and there. Which is passable as an explanation, but it has a lot of holes, if you look deeper.
Why would William so instantly recognize a fairly common last name as the brother of some kid he killed that wasn't even anywhere near Freddy's? Why did he kidnap/kill Garrett in the first place, in some random forest in Nebraska? Why did he see the name on the file, then immediately stop and examine Mike's face so closely, when Mike's memories/dreams pretty clearly show that they never saw each others' faces when Garrett was taken? Why did he send Vanessa to "keep Mike in the dark" if he purposely gave him the job to get him killed? Why not have the animatronics kill him right away? He didn't know that Mike was searching for the man who took his brother, and while he could have maybe guessed he was still actively haunted by what happened based on Mike beating up a guy that he thought was kidnapping someone, it still feels like a weird choice to go and hire him, then just have him do the job with no issue for a few days.
As for Vanessa, we see that she's been cleaning up William's messes for years. Why is Mike the one she changes her mind and stands up to her father for? There's no implied romance between the two and no particularly meaningful connection beyond them both having family issues. I guess she cares about Abby because she's a kid, but kids getting hurt clearly never stopped her from helping her father before.
And, on a more meta level, this is Scott and his storytelling style we're talking about. The man puts plot twists inside of plot twists and everything always ties back into the Aftons, somehow.
So, here's my theory: I think that Mike is William's kid, but Mike's mom left Afton when he was young and remarried the man that Mike thinks is his father.
It seems convoluted and maybe cliche, but if it's true, then suddenly there's an answer to all of those questions. "Michael Schmidt" isn't exactly an eye-catching name, unless you had a kid named Michael and your ex-wife married a guy with the last name Schmidt. Garrett's kidnapping, then, becomes an act of intentional, petty revenge rather than an extremely random coincidence. Giving Mike the job and sending in Vanessa suddenly becomes about piecing together how much he knows and figuring out if he's worth trying to reconnect with or is just a threat that needs to be killed. (It feels worth noting that William is as far as I can remember the only person to call him Michael in the whole film. He also very pointedly never says "Schmidt" until he's decided to kill Mike and suddenly announces his full name out loud. If he went by Michael as a little kid, that is what William would default to calling him, but if he took the new husband's last name, that would be like like salt in the wound that he wouldn't want to voice. By finally saying it out loud, it feels like he's making the decision to fully separate himself from Mike.)
As for Vanessa, if Mike is her brother, it makes sense that he would be the person she'd turn against William to save. It would be weird for her not to tell him, but she could also be trying to protect him, in some way. There's never any mention of her mother, and it seems like it's just been her and William for a long time. Also, ending the movie with her in a coma feels like a strange narrative choice, but it makes sense if she knows information that's purposely being kept hidden for the sequel.
Of course, it could just be that the movie has kind of messy writing and I'm trying to fix it because I want there to be a deeper reason for it. Maybe there is no Michael Afton in the movies, or maybe he's off chilling and doing his own thing somewhere and we'll see him in the sequel. Only time will tell.
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