# but will also judge you for dating trashy guys : | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tropes-and-tales-archives · 2 years

Text

Nevada Ramirez: I’ll Protect You

Word Count: 6056

TW: Angst; hurt and comfort; implied murder; smut (PiV, protected). 18+ only.

Even before you started dating, he showered you with gifts.

Gifts, paired with his filthy euphemisms, were Nevada Ramirez’s unique way of flirting. Which meant that when he strolled into the bar where you were bartending the first time the two of you met, he left you with a huge tip and an outright proposition to sleep with him.

Only he didn’t say ‘sleep with me,’ and the memory of his boldness still made you laugh in astonished surprise.

It also meant that he pursued you relentlessly for weeks, then months as you turned him down over and over: gifts of clothes and shoes turned up at your apartment, and you’d march them back to him unopened and unworn. Then it was jewelry – nothing too extravagant – but you returned it too. Then other gifts – rare books and tickets to the hottest concerts in the city. Electronics. Expensive wines. Once, an ounce of premium weed. That had made you laugh.

You didn’t realize that he was studying you the whole while. Calibrating you, like some sort of trashy, horny terminator. He judged your reaction to the gifts, smirking at your bewilderment (the platform heels that cost more than you’d spent on your beater car) or your frustration (the time you had to walk to his club with a heavy, top-of-the-line sound bar for your TV).

His smirk had been widest, almost bordering an outright grin, when you’d blown into his office and thrown the flat lingerie box like a frisbee at him. He had snagged it in mid-air and sat it on his desk.

“Don’t be mad,” he had told you in that slightly accented voice that got uncomfortably under your skin. “I thought it would look good on you.”

The lingerie in question was a flimsy excuse for undergarments, nothing but narrow silk ribbons that really just framed the bits in question instead of covering them or supporting them. You had made the mistake of opening the box in front of your friend, and it opened up an entire evening of questions. Who’s the guy? What’s his name? How long have you been dating?

The point was, you weren’t dating him, but you saw him all the time when you came into his club to return his latest present. You knew his type. He was the kind of man who fucked around, probably cheated on the handful of actual girlfriends he had. Relationships were just sex to him, and while there was nothing wrong with the occasional one-night stand or casual hook-up, you preferred a deeper connection to your partners.

So no – you weren’t dating Nevada Ramirez. You knew it would only end in heartache for you. But it didn’t mean that your resolve wasn’t being chipped away a bit at a time, every time he smirked at you or smiled at you. Every time he touched you – just incidental touches, but still….he was wearing you down. And you suspected that he knew exactly what he was doing.

*****

The good news was that business was running smoothly.

The bad news was that business was running smoothly.

There were no real competitors on his turf. He had a healthy supply coming into the city, and an even healthier demand for the product. His men were well-paid and content; there was no concern of betrayal or mutiny. He mostly pushed weed, and the NYPD and feds were more focused on the harder stuff, mainly the black tar out of Guerrero and the meth out of upstate New York. Sometimes a runner got popped with a few ounces on him, but Nevada had a lawyer on hand to plead that shit down.

His empire was running like a well-oiled machine, and the King of the Heights was bored.

Lucky for him that he went into that new bar on West 175th and Amsterdam. There was no reason for him to enter the place: as real estate prices on the lower half of Manhattan pushed people up into the Heights, more and more bars like yours were popping up. Pretentious hipster shit, all warm woods and Edison bulbs and fussy fucking cocktails. But something drew him in that evening, and he was glad for it.

In a sea of pretentious hipster bullshit – the bartenders were called “mixologists,” for fucks sake – there was you. Like a little oasis of normal, though you were far from normal. Nevada was drawn to you because of your smirk. When you came over to take his order, you explained the cocktail of the day as an “experience.” You said it so sarcastically, and gave him such an elaborate eye-roll that he laughed. You had laughed along with him, as if to say, “I’m not buying any of this either, but a job’s a job.”

It was busy, but he kept calling you over, again and again. Ordered another drink, ordered fucking tapas. Pulled a bit of information out of you with each interaction: your name, the fact that you were in school. Which neighborhood you lived in – the Heights, just like him.

When he asked for your number, you leaned across the bar with another smirk. “You wanna call me sometime?” you asked saucily. When he nodded, you laughed and insinuated that he was just drunk on the sage-infused cocktail.

He wasn’t drunk. He left you a massive tip and an offer to fuck him (that you laughed at in astonishment), but you turned him down.

That didn’t bother him. You were his new project.

He thought you were just being polite when you turned down his first few gifts, but you kept doing it. Nevada was bewildered by that – he’d never known a woman to not accept his presents of jewelry or expensive shit.

More bewildering was that you never told him to fuck off. He didn’t seem to be bothering you, exactly, with his charm offensive. When you invariably marched into his office to return his latest gift, you always seemed happy to see him. Even when you acted mad (at the top-of-the-line sound bar) or scandalized (at the lingerie), you smiled at him and laughed and returned every one of his filthy lines with your own sarcastic rejoinder.

You seemed to like him for him, which felt….wrong.

You were standing across from his desk now with his latest try – a brand new, just-released smart phone that people around the country were standing in line for. Your own phone was scuffed and ancient, and when he picked it up once, it was hot to the touch from a battery on its last legs.

“I can’t accept this,” you said, which was your usual line. The routine usually went back and forth, you refusing, him pressing you, until negotiations broke down and you just did your flirty, innuendo-filled chatting.

“Why don’t you take it?” Nevada asked now, cutting through the usual lines. “I can take care of you if you’d just let me.”

You snorted. “Taking care of me requires weed and skimpy underwear?”

“Among other things.”

“Right,” you nodded in mock seriousness. You sat down in the seat across from him. “You’d also take care of me sexually, right?”

Nevada cocked an eyebrow at you. “I’ve never had a single complaint.”

“And you’d hold me afterwards and let me fall asleep in your arms? Make me breakfast in the morning? Then go to meet my parents, my friends? Come over to my place even when I’m on my period so you can rub my back and watch reality TV with me?”

Nevada’s face fell a little, and you laughed when you saw it. You leaned forward and held out your hand, and he extended his own. You slipped your warm palm into his, grasped it lightly, then released him. “See? That’s the problem, Nevada.” You gave him a smile that was almost sad. “You just want sex, and I want a relationship.”

His voice was a grumble. “I don’t do those.”

“Yeah, I figured. Which is why – “ you slid the phone back across the desk at him. “ – I can’t accept your gifts. I’d rather have a boyfriend than an ounce of weed or a sound bar.”

That made him scoff outright. The shoes he had bought you were several thousand dollars. Women saved up for them. Bought knock-offs in Chinatown until they could afford the genuine article. He had a hard time believing that you wanted a boyfriend – some fucking chump who’d only hurt or disappoint you – over that.

Still, all those gifts had been feelers to learn more about you, and they had worked. You weren’t a woman who could be tempted with baubles or shiny toys. Nevada knew that now, and it made him a little sad, which was fucking stupid. There was a whole city full of women who would fuck him for far less effort.

He pushed the phone back across the desk at you. “Keep it,” he insisted, and when you opened your mouth to protest, he talked over you. “Your phone is a piece of shit,” he pointed out. “You don’t owe me anything for it. It’s just a gift for…wasting your time.”

You tilted your head and gave him a soft smile. “It wasn’t a waste of time. I enjoyed our little back-and-forth repartee.” You paused, then asked, “Have you never just been friends with a woman before?”

A ridiculous question. Of course he hadn’t. He had mostly conquests and one-night stands, a few girlfriends.

There was a long moment where you both regarded each other across his desk, and you finally gave a slight nod and took the phone. Unbelievably.

“I…appreciate this,” you said, haltingly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’ll put number in as my ‘in case of emergency,’” you added with a smile. “In case I find myself in need of your help. Say, a lingerie emergency.”

He found himself smiling back at you. Unbelievably. “Sounds like my kind of emergency.”

You stood up and went to leave, but you paused in the doorway. “You know, if you ever want to just grab a drink or something…” You trailed off. “You can never have too many friends, Nevada.”

He only nodded. In his more maudlin moments, Nevada might admit that he had no fucking friends at all, only associates and acquaintances. No need to tell you that, though. He watched you leave and figured that was the last he’d hear from you.

But it wasn’t.

-----

It was only a month later. Nevada was in his office, idly fucking around with a random woman he pulled from the dance floor of his club. She was gorgeous, poured into a skin-tight dress that left little to the imagination, but she was too chatty. Kept trying to fucking draw him out, when all he wanted was a blowjob and a cigar afterwards.

When his phone rang, he almost ignored it, but then he saw it was you.

When he picked up, though, it wasn’t you. The man on the other end was a fucking cop, looking for someone to come to the 34th precinct to pick you up. He wouldn’t say much else, only that you weren’t under arrest.

There were few people that Nevada Ramirez would walk into a cop headquarters for. If pressed, he’d say that there was no one worth entering the lion’s den. But apparently there was one person he’d face the police for, and it was you. A woman he hadn’t even kissed, let alone fucked. A goddamned fucking friend.

-----

At the precinct, Nevada did his best to appear like a completely law-abiding citizen. He shed his usual leather jacket, left his big gold ring in his SUV. A bored looking young man staffed the front desk, and he pointed back a hallway when Nevada mentioned your name. He found himself in a bullpen, bouncing from cop to cop until he was practically sweating from the stress. He finally found someone who knew where you were.

“The bar where she works got robbed,” the detective said as he led Nevada back another hallway. “EMT looked her over, but she refused to go to the hospital. We brought her here to take her statement, but I didn’t want to let her leave on her own.” The man paused at a closed door. “She’s pretty shaken up.”

Nevada nodded, and the detective opened the door. You were sitting at a conference table, your hands wrapped around a paper cup of coffee. You didn’t look at all like yourself, and Nevada had to do a double take.

You were usually one of those people who took up exactly the right amount of space in the world; meaning, you didn’t try to shrink down and make yourself smaller and less noticeable. You also didn’t puff yourself up and try to take more space. You walked through the world completely confident in who you were and what you wanted.

Now, though, you were hunched over and shivering. You looked so small, like you wanted to disappear altogether. Your head was bent, and Nevada could make out the few knobs of spine at the base of your neck. It made you seem so fragile.

Your bartending job had a uniform of checked blue shirts, like some sort of fucking Bavarian beer garden, but you weren’t in that. You were in an oversized NYPD t-shirt, and Nevada made a fist when he realized why. There was a gash on your forehead and a deep-looking scratch along your neckline. You had probably bled onto your shirt.

When you saw him, you stood up and practically flew into his arms. Nevada barely had time to make out your other injuries – a split lip, a bruised eye that was swollen shut – before he enfolded you into a gentle hug and said that you were safe. That he’d take you home. He wasn’t sure if you heard him; you were sobbing against him so hard that he wasn’t sure if you heard anything at all.

-----

He didn’t take you to your apartment. He took you to his place, and he sat you on the couch for a moment while he made some fucking calls.

The police told him nothing, and Nevada knew they were worse than worthless. Robberies happened all the time, and no one was gonna approve overtime for a fucking bar in the Heights, even if it was a trendy gentrified bar.

Good thing the Heights had its own fucking justice.

Nevada called his best two lieutenants and explained in no uncertain terms that they were to solve this robbery. The quicker, the better. Then he hung up and went back to you. He wasn’t an especially gentle man, but he tried to bite back the white-hot rage that coursed through him every time he looked at you and saw your wounds.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” you said, and you refused to look at him. You only looked down at your hands, and Nevada noticed that two of your fingers were swollen too, like they’d been twisted back. He felt the anger churn in his gut, and he grunted out that it was fine, that you weren’t a bother at all.

“I can go home,” you replied, still not meeting his gaze. “I’ll…I’ll be okay.”

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous,” he growled, and he kicked himself for how you flinched away from his rough voice. He wasn’t mad at you at all – but he was furious at the people who hurt you. You were beat to shit and trembling on his couch. It was never quite so stark, the difference between you and him and the worlds you each lived in. Nevada had his fair share of scars from his rough life; it was entirely likely that you had never been punched before tonight.

“C’mere,” he said, and his voice was still a rough growl. But his arm around your shoulders was gentle, and you allowed him to hold you. After a moment, he felt your arms snake around his midsection and squeeze him so tight he could barely breathe. “Don’t worry anymore. You’re safe, dulzura. I’ll protect you.”

-----

All told, you stayed with him three days. That night, he convinced you to take a nice long bath in his tub – a luxury for you and your tiny, tub-less apartment, you joked with a wan smile. Afterwards, he had laid out some of his clothes to wear, and he’d be lying if he said that it didn’t stir his blood, seeing you in an oversized t-shirt of his.

Nevada wasn’t gentlemanly by any measure, but he installed you in his bed and let you sleep undisturbed. There was certainly a part of him that just wanted to slide between the sheets with you, take your mind off of your ordeal and injuries. But that part of him was small compared to the outsized hatred he had for the men who hurt you. Right now, he channeled that rage. If the NYPD wasn’t going to get you justice, he would.

*****

When you saw Nevada walk through the doors of the precinct, you should have felt embarrassed. You didn’t really know the man, after all, and the sum total of your relationship was just base flirting. But when you saw him, you felt nothing but relief. And gratitude.

The gratitude extended for the days you spent at his place. He was rarely around – he had business to attend to – but he always was there at night, to spend a few hours with you before he ushered you to bed. He made sure you had a million options of food to tempt your nonexistent appetite.

When you went home, you found that he had installed new locks on your apartment door. And a state-of-the-art security system that monitored your windows. It was ridiculous – top of the line security for your tiny one bedroom apartment – but you felt nearly moved to tears by his gesture. You had leaned forward to brush a light kiss on his cheek, and he had seemed surprised by it.

You also knew that he had his men keep an eye on you. The same black sedan sat outside your building every night, and when you made eye contact with the man through his window, he tipped you a nod as if to say, “no one will harm you on my watch.”

The detective who gave you his card was little help. He gave you the number for a victims resource group, but as far as the case went…it went absolutely nowhere.

You and another bartender, Liam, had been closing up that night. Liam had been in the back, pulling bottles to restock the bar for the next day. You had been counting out the cash and balancing the registers. Which is why you caught the brunt of the abuse from the three armed men who stormed in. You hadn’t put up a fight, but you had moved far too slow for their liking. Your hands shook, you spilled cash on the floor. Their heavy fists didn’t do much to improve your speed.

The men hadn’t even bothered to conceal their faces, and while the police had pulled surveillance footage from the bar and nearby traffic cameras, nothing seemed to materialize. You quietly raged every time you left a message for the detective on your case that went unreturned.

No arrests. No leads. Nothing. Nothing beyond waking up gasping and in a cold sweat when you dreamt over and over that those men found you again.

Until a month later.

Your wounds were mostly healed, and you could mostly sleep at night without too many nightmares. You did sleep with a softball bat under your bed, so when there was a heavy knock on your door late one night, you gripped the bat and checked the spy hole. Then sagged in relief – it was Nevada. You threw the bolts (there were three of them now) and let him in.

Before, Nevada was a strutting, smirking innuendo wrought in human form and wrapped in multiple layers of black clothing. After the robbery, he was almost deferential to you, very nearly gentle (albeit still gruff, and with liberal use of the word “fuck” in nearly everything he said).

Now, he was back to the old Nevada apparently. He openly ogled your sleepwear – a thin camisole and boy shorts – and he practically sauntered into your tiny space. He crowded close to you, close enough for you to smell his expensive cologne and the lingering remnants of cigar smoke. His normally slicked-down hair was a little mussed. The man wasn’t entirely unappealing.

“You know,” he started, his tone light and conversational. “I tried every fucking thing with you. Tried every damned gift that worked on other women. But you weren’t a woman that could be bought with gifts.”

You smiled. If he was back on that mien, then things were really returning to normal after all. “Maybe I’m just a woman that can’t be bought at all.”

“Everyone has a price. And I think I finally found a gift that you will appreciate.” You didn’t reply; you just watched him watching you.

“You heard from the fucking police?” he asked after a beat. You shook your head. You had talked with Nevada about your frustration with the cops, and he never seemed surprised.

“You won’t,” he continued. He reached out and laid his hand on the side of your face, and his calloused thumb traced the scar on your forehead. It was thin and fading every day, and you hoped it would be gone soon. Nevada’s touch was gentle, and the expression on his face shifted from smirking to something indescribable.

“I told you I’d protect you that night after the robbery,” he said. “Did you believe me? When I said I would, did you believe me?”

“Yes,” you replied. “I did. And you did. You took good care of me. I appreciate it, Nevada.“

He scoffed at you and leaned in a fraction. He shifted his thumb to run over your bottom lip, then dropped his hand to trace along the other scar on your neck. His green eyes blazed in anger, and you realized that he was seeing you as you had been that night – bloodied. Hurt.

“The NYPD will never find the men who hurt you,” he whispered. “No one will.”

It took a long moment for you to understand his meaning. Your eyes searched his face to see if he was joking. He didn’t seem to be. You should feel sick at what he was implying, but you didn’t. You felt curiously cared for. Loved, even. A little turned on, if you were being honest with yourself.

He shifted his head so that he was whispering in your ear. His breath brushed against you and made you shiver against him.

“I want you to know, dulzura: the pain they gave you…they felt it fivefold before I took their miserable lives. No one touches you like that and keeps their life. That’s my gift to you. By the end of the week, everyone in the Heights will know what it costs to hurt you.”

You pulled back, gazed in his eyes, and saw the truth to what he was saying. You had indulged in the playful banter with him months ago, and you had even allowed yourself to fantasize about him in your lonelier moments. You had never seriously considered being with him, though, because you thought he was shallow and only looking for an easy lay.

This, though? Killing for you? Putting his own freedom, or at least his business, in jeopardy to give you justice. Fucked up and unhealthy as it was, no man had ever done so much for you without a thought for getting something in return.

There was nothing else for you to do but lean forward and kiss him.

You didn’t miss the surprised hiss as he pulled in a breath, but Nevada recovered in seconds. He reached up and cupped your face, tilted your head. Kissed you back. Close-mouth at first, but you each seemed to want more. It wasn’t but a moment before he was deepening the kiss and groaning as you opened your mouth to him. You answered with your own sigh at the taste of him: cigar and whiskey, both underneath a heavy top note of mint.

His hands shifted from your face to your hips, and you moved your hands to his chest. Your fingers were too clumsy, took too long to undo the buttons on his shirt, so you tugged it open and sent the bits of plastic ricocheting like shrapnel.

Nevada pulled away from your lips a fraction. “So eager,” he mumbled, and you swore you could hear the triumph in his voice. You answered by pushing his shirt off of him and tugging his undershirt out of his jeans.

If you were eager, so was he. He slid his hands around to your ass, kneading you and pulling you flush against him. You could feel his erection straining against your belly. You took the last remaining bit of your restraint and pulled away from him.

“Come on,” you said. You took his hand in yours and tugged him towards your bedroom.

*****

Nevada hadn’t expected you to fall into bed with him, but he had been surprised by how your eyes darkened (in delight? In desire?) when you understood what he had done for you.

He would have done it anyway – you getting pistol-whipped made him incandescence with rage – but you never even asked him for help. You knew that he ran in rough, criminal circles. Nevada kept waiting for it; he kept expecting you to ask for a favor from him to help catch the men who hurt you. But you didn’t. Nevada realized – really knew in the core of his being – that you saw him as more than someone to exploit.

He would have done anything for you, but the fact that you never asked him to? That made him think long and hard about what you meant to him. He concluded that while you may never ask him for anything, he wanted to give you everything.

As much as he rejoiced when you tugged him into your bedroom and tore off his clothes and then your own, Nevada felt a minor twinge on his conscience. It happened so infrequently that it felt alien.

“You don’t have to do this,” he muttered, but his words trailed off as he drank in the sight of you, naked in front of him. Fuck, you were better than he even imagined, and he told you so as you pushed him gently backwards onto your bed.

“You’ve thought of this?” you teased, and you were suddenly you again: the confident woman who used to march into his club and sass him, tease him, with that glint in your eye. Not the scared girl who answered her door with a baseball bat and fingered her scars self-consciously.

Nevada would have reveled over the change more, but all of his higher-thinking rapidly fled his brain as you mapped his body with yours – your hands tracing over the lines of his body, your warm palms running from his chest to his belly and lower until you wrapped a hand around his cock, already hard and getting harder as you touched him. Your mouth alternated between kissing his and shifting to spots on his neck, his jaw. Across his collarbone, nosing past the giant gold cross and nipping at him here and there with your sharp little teeth.

“Thought about this all the time,” he growled. You tightened your grip on his length, stroked him at a leisurely pace, and Nevada fisted one of his hands against your comforter to keep from flipping you over and taking control. His other hand snaked between your bodies – him underneath, you mostly laying on top of him – so that he could cup one of your breasts. You hissed as he drew a calloused thumb over your sensitive peak.

“Thought about fucking you,” he continued. You ran your own thumb over the tip of his weeping cock, and he bucked up against you. You tightened your grip more, and he choked out, “thought about making you mine.”

That made you pull your face back a bit to gaze down at him, and if your eyes narrowed a little at his admission, you still had that smirky fucking smile you always had when you were trying to rile him up.

Nevada saw you open your mouth with some retort, but you snapped it shut. Whatever teasing remark lay on the tip of your tongue remained unsaid, and you only leaned forward to kiss him deeply. You nipped at his lower lip then ran your tongue over it before tilting your head to claim his mouth. He’d never fucking admit it out loud, to you or anyone, but he rarely kissed much – just the bare minimum before he could push a conquest’s head down towards his cock or flip her around to bend her over his desk. Kissing you, it felt almost too intimate. Almost.

A long moment later, you broke away, a little breathless and with a dazed look in your eyes. “Can I be on top?” you whispered, and Nevada was so turned on by the naked lust on your face that he would have agreed to nearly anything.

“Fuck, yes,” he growled hoarsely.

You released your grip on him and shifted onto him fully – your slick core pressed against his lower belly – and reached into your nightstand drawer. Fumbled for a condom, muttered a curse as you struggled to open it. Gave a quiet, triumphant ‘ha’ when you finally got it out. Nevada watched your face as you rolled it onto his length, searching for the barest hint of reluctance. He saw none.

He couldn’t remember the last time he let a woman take control. Probably never. You weren’t rough or bold – just assured. Like you truly wanted him.

Slowly – too slowly for his fucking taste – you lowered yourself onto him. Nevada wasn’t sure where he wanted to look more: at the extraordinary range of emotions crossing your face as he entered you, or at the rapidly closing space between you and him, where he was splitting you open inch by inch.

Finally – fucking finally – you were seated on him. His hands were on your hips, twitching as he held back the urge to push you down that final bit. Even through the thin latex of the condom, he could feel the molten heat of you, feel how well you gripped his cock.

You didn’t move at first. You took a deep, steadying breath and gazed down at him. Then you removed his hands from your hips and laid them on your breasts one at a time. You pushed into his palms a bit, and to make yourself perfectly clear, you demanded that he touch you there.

“Fucking bossy,” he said, and his voice sounded rougher than he felt. “You think you’re in charge here? La jefa?”

That made you move finally, slow movements at first. The more Nevada palmed at your tits, strummed and plucked your nipples until they were diamond-hard, the harder you rode him, until you were raising nearly off of him and then impaling yourself back onto him. Over and over in a smooth rhythm, ending each movement with a swivel of your hips that made Nevada’s mouth go dry. If you kept doing fucking moves like that, Nevada would happily let you be the boss whenever and wherever you wanted.

Closer and closer, you drew him towards his orgasm. He could feel the tension in his belly tighten with each twist of your hips. When you reached back to fondle his balls, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

Nevada released your tits and put his hands back on your hips, helping to drive you onto him as he lifted his hips to meet your downward thrusts. Fuck, he could feel the tip of his cock hitting the very end of you, swore he had to be hurting you, but you were moaning his name low and husky, like a fucking song, each time he hilted himself up into you. He shifted a hand to the place where you were joined. Circled his thumb around your swollen clit.

“Just…like…that,” you panted breathlessly, and he knew you had to be close. You were losing the rhythm as you rode him.

“Come for me, dulzura,” he said. “Let me feel that sweet little pussy come all over my cock.”

That was the last nudge you needed, and Nevada felt you tighten against him. Your eyes fluttered shut as you seated yourself onto him and stilled, and he could feel every clenching movement of your cunt, gripping him until he felt the tension in him snap as he came too. His hips stuttered up into you, and he couldn’t help but groan your name as an entire galaxy of stars exploded behind his eyelids.

It was only a moment after that you collapsed on him, wrung out and sated. Nevada wrapped his arms around your back and felt you nuzzle against his jaw, and he let you lay like that as long as you wanted. Not that he’d fucking complain. His softening cock was still buried in you, and those perfect tits of yours were pressed against his chest. Not a bad fucking place to be, as far as he was concerned.

But you finally heaved a contented sigh and climbed off him, and Nevada sat up. He made his way to your bathroom and disposed of the condom. He made his way back to your bedroom to find you under the covers and fighting off sleep. Waiting for him.

Nevada never stayed the night, but something made him walk past his pile of clothes and crawl in beside you. Maybe it was because he made you feel safe again and you wanted him, and who didn’t want to feel wanted? Maybe it was because you had returned all his stupid gifts, all that blustering empty bullshit he had tried early on. Maybe it was because even when you returned those gifts, you still stuck around for a few moments to joke around with him, chat with him. Like he was just a regular guy and you were just a regular girl, and he wasn’t on his guard with you because you never asked him for anything other than those few moments of jokes and conversation.

Maybe because your eyes widened in surprise when he crawled into bed with you – but that surprise was quickly given over to a wide grin.

“You looking for seconds?” you joked, and Nevada only pulled you against him until your head was nestled again under his jaw.

“Shut up,” he growled without any real heat. “You have a comfortable bed is all.”

You made a thoughtful hum, and then replied softly, “you’re welcome to it any time, Nevada.” It made his chest ache, how hopefully fragile you sounded. You knew his reputation. That had always been your main issue with him in those fumbling early months when he tried to seduce you: you wanted a relationship, and Nevada…didn’t.

It’d be a long, long while before Nevada even learned the words to use to describe how he felt, but the more time he spent with you, the more he realized that he didn’t need to. You seemed to understand him unlike any other woman he’d known, so when he fumbled through every next stage with you – to dating exclusively, to living together - you had met him with mostly patience and even more good humor. And love.

If he took longer to say those words out loud to you, it was only because it wasn’t in his nature. And if it took you longer to be comfortable with his gifts, that was only because it wasn’t in your nature either. In the end, though, you did learn to accept his gifts – even the obscenely big ring he slid onto your finger one evening months into the future. But only because he did learn to say those words, those ‘I love you’s’ too.

#nevada ramirez #nevada ramirez imagine #nevada ramirez x reader #nevada ramirez x you #trouble in the heights #trouble in the heights fanfiction #tropes-and-tales

20 notes · View notes

pies-writes-and-more · 3 years

Text

things they do when they love you

Characters: Kageyama Tobio, Tsukishima Kei, Tanaka Ryūnosuke, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Kozume Kenma, Tendō Satori, & Ushijima Wakatoshi, all with a Fem!Reader

Warnings: literally nothing - pure fluff <3

A/N: sorry for the lack of content lately! I’ve been super busy with work and school and I feel myself starting to get selfconscious of my work again so I’m hoping I can break through the writers block it comes with! Hope you enjoy! Also thank you to @thisnoodlewritesao3 and @satan-ruler-of-hells for listening to me talk about this fic probably a million times lol

haikyuu masterlist

Kageyama is awkward with telling you how he feels so he just tries to give you things to show you. like you mentioned once you liked the protein bar that Coach gave you guys and now he bought every single one of them from the store and is bringing it to your house. Oh did you say you liked milk too? Well I guess he’ll just have to bring you the whole fucking vending machine. Just wants to show he will provide you with all the things you love, pls love him back. I feel like he’d also be bugging his older sister all the time - asking her all sorts of questions about girls. She’s the reason your first date wasn’t at a volleyball game (and also the reason why he no longer thinks your first date was the first time you attended his games. “Tobio, a date is supposed to be where the two of you are hanging out together.” “But.... we are together. She’s watching me play.” “.... somewhere where your whole team and the whole of the Miyagi prefecture isn’t!”)

Tsukishima will let you pamper him lol. He likes the attention so when you’re doing face masks, he’ll like look through them and ask you questions about them. Sometimes it comes off as he’s judging you for spending money on this stuff but he’s really just waiting for you to ask if he wants to try one. You bought a dino face mask specifically for him but you thought he’d laugh at you if you asked. So you just kept it with the rest of your sheet masks. You’re putting one on one day and he’s like …. is that a dinosaur. And you’re like…. no? And immediately he’s like well now I have to have it please show me how to put this one. Lol cut to: it does nOT look like a dinosaur (have yall seen those ones that’s supposed to like look like a penguin or lion or something and just looks psychotic??? yeah that). He still likes it and even lets you take a picture of his first face mask cause you just look so happy that you’re doing it with him. It becomes a ritual and any time you’re doing face masks, he’ll do it with you and you just spill all the tea to him about shit you’ve heard at work or school and he just listens and aggressively calls everyone stupid lol

Tanaka aggressively praises you non stop but like in a good way haha. Did you just post a photo on instagram? He’s liked it first, commented a thousand different things about how he loves your outfit and your expression and how you’re the light of his life, and then he sHARES the photo to his story and is like look at how pretty my girlfriend is yall wish this was you. Oh did you just get a good grade at school??? Non stop bragging to his teammates about how he’s dating a genius (“I mean anyone’s a genius compared to you” “Tsukishima that is NO WAY TO TALK TO YOUR UPPERCLASSMAN YOU ASSHOLE”). If you’re feeling upset about something, he’ll comfort you and all but also tell you that you’re such a badass you could handle anything. And it’s not like empty compliments either - he genuinely believes that you are the most amazing human being to ever walk the planet

Yamaguchi (okay I got this idea partially from @/paige.ipairs on tiktok but it’s so cute that i had to put it here) likes doing anything with you so he likes it when you’re out shopping and you help him pick a new outfit or you style something for him. But his favourite thing is when you’re painting your nails and he’s like … that’s a nice colour… and you’re like Yamaguchi would you like… your nails painted? And at first it’s just the one finger and it’s a matching colour with you. Like on his ring finger to symbolize he’s with you but then soon he’s with you at the mall looking at different colours and picks out one’s he would like for you to paint for him and he just carries them over to you like .. o.o pls

Kenma will actively look for 2 player games that he can play with you. He’ll pretend like it’s nothing and that he just wants to try the game for the 1 player story but he’ll leave a controller out and just kind waits for you to ask to play or pick up the controller. He really likes it when you play, even if you wander around a lot and aren’t super focused on the story line. Minecraft with the two of you is always fun. He thinks it’s really funny how aggressive you get trying to save your animals from the zombies even though they won’t get hurt. You teared up once cause the pen you made for your chickens got blown up by a Creeper and he actually felt so bad even though you told him it was definitely not his fault. Cut to: you screaming aggressively when it comes to any Creeper as revenge for the chickens who were lost in the battle.

Tendō starts reading your favourite mangas and watches all of your favourite series/movies before you two really started dating because he wanted to know what to talk to you about. But now that you guys are together, he’ll plan dates where you can binge-watch all of your favourite movies/shows or just lie around and trade mangas (you had this man actually crying at some of them, he wasn’t ready for the hURT). If you’re not the biggest fan of horror films, he’ll insist that you guys don’t need to watch them but he loves when you stick it out with him cause it means extra cuddles and more snacks as comfort! If you do love horror films, he’ll always buy tickets to the new movies so the two of you can watch it together right away.

Ushijima will hold you no matter where you guys are. Big beefy boy doesn’t really understand why he wouldn’t hold you, even if you guys were in public. When you guys first started dating, you’d avoid reaching out for his hand because you figured big stoic guy like Ushijima, he wouldn’t really be a PDA kind of guy would he? Wrong. Well right, but also wrong. Boy probably doesn’t even realize what PDA is but he’ll reach for your hand and hold it anytime. And if you guys are waiting in line somewhere, he’ll just hold you in his arms in front of him. He has no sense of when not to do this. It’s like you’re his comfort person (which you are). In front of his Coach? Suddenly has you in front of him, hugging you to him. Being interviewed by some reporters? Oh look, you’re here too. Reminding Oikawa that he should’ve come to Shiratorizawa? You’re right in front sticking your tongue out at the Aoba Josai boi like the child you are lol. Honestly, he doesn’t think it’s weird but he knows deep down that he’s just really scared you’ll leave. He likes knowing you’re around because it reminds him you’re always there.

Haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to join!)

@al0ehas @aurumk @devilkittymusic @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @lucyheartfilias-wife @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @livy384 @babyshoyo

#haikyuu x reader #kenma x reader #tsukishima x reader #kageyama x reader #ushijima x reader #tendou x reader #yamaguchi x reader #tanaka x you #tanaka x reader #pieswrites #haikyuu!!

870 notes · View notes

billiejeanenthusiast · 4 years

Text

Boobiegate masterpost

We know what they did this summer - and oh boy, was a it a wild summer that - unfortunately for us - stretched into autumn and beyond any reason.

I will first go over everything as it happened and then - because when you look back at everything you realise some timelines overlap - I’ll try to clarify some stuff and put it into perspective.

NOTE: I’m writing the dates from a GMT time zone point of view (aka. UK time)

So let’s start from the beginning.

Briana breaks up with Brody Jenner after dating him for some random attention seeking period. (June-September roughly)

Here’s an article talking about that irrelevant relationship. https://www.yourtango.com/2020334835/who-brody-jenner-girlfriend-briana-jungwirth-louis-tomlinson-baby-mama Now let’s fast forward a bit to September.

September 23rd

So on September 23rd we’re flooded with articles about Brody and Bri breaking up and Bri getting back together with her “on-again off-again (boy)friend Nick” and the biggest surprise “BRI IS ENGAGED”

So the story is:

Bri ended her relationship with Brody because “they were moving too fast” and he had “already met Freddie”

She then gets back together with her on-again, off-again bf Nick Gordon

She, her family, and Nick go on a “whirlwind” trip to Las Vegas (MIND YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF A PANDEMIC)

Bri and Nick get engaged during those Covid inviting few days in Vegas (September 21st- September 23rd)

Articles drop about how they’re engaged and she’s broken up with Brody (Sept 23rd)

Bri, family and Nick all share a huge amount of Vegas pictures of them in love, Bri’s ring, Bri and Nick being a couple (pictures obviously taken before Vegas to hopefully make someone believe that this in no way is a whirlwind engagement after just knowing each other a few weeks. Did they convince anyone? Well if you are convinced - I’m worried for you)

Here’s the tmz article:https://www.tmz.com/2020/09/23/brody-jenner-split-briana-jungwirth-engaged/ Here’s some pics of them we were all subjected to while they were in Vegas. And Nick’s new public profile when it just got made. Was he trying to start an influencer career and say goodbye to being a firefighter? Was he trying to get a night job taking off that all firefighter gear for money? Magic mike was a big movie after all….Who knows.

September 28th

At first the engagement pictures on Nick’s IG were just him and Briana and he used the #/shesaidyes. After a few days and probably after they realised it would be a smart move to acknowledge her kid she claims to have too (👀) he deleted those and on September 28th posted new pictures with a new caption and new # of course. This time “theysaidyes”.

The pictures are below.

But, moving on.

As soon as the engagement news drops, we have Nick - our “good-guy firefighter” making a new and public IG account, flooding it with pictures where he professes his love for Bri and soaking up the d-list association fame.

So in the coming weeks we get a lot of Nick, Bri and their families on IG. They post a lot about being constantly together.

What was the most interesting they really pushed the “dad” image on Nick. He was constantly posting about Freddie and even in Bs or Tammi’s stories he was always seen interacting with F the most.

Then after it seemed like the new fiancees had settle into their soon-to-be married life and everything seemed rosy for them - we get hit with the whammy BOOBIEGATE.

Because hell hath no fury like a sugar daddy scorned.

October 15th

On the 15th of October celebtm a gossip site, posts the next picture and caption on IG:

Basically, they’re saying a guy - his name unknown yet - contacted them to tell them how Briana scammed him out of money she borrowed to get a boob job. Specifically 5k USD. He claims he filed the case in court and it’s dated January.

They ask if anyone else has similar receipts or anything about her and that they’re investigating and will be writing a story. And the comments have a lot to say about Bri.

October 19th

4 days later on October 19th celebtm posts another IG update about how they have the court filing and how their article is in progress.

October 21st

2 days after the last IG post celebtm finally posts their article - on the 21st of October

https://celebmagazine.com/louis-tomlinson-briana-jungwirth-sued-over-boob-job/

(It’s on the web still - if it ever gets deleted let me know I have screen recordings of it)

The article is accompanied by this (below) IG post:

Also on this day we get Briana and Nick deactivating their IG profiles. Nick still kept his personal private IG and the only person who stayed public is Tammi.

October 22nd

A day after the article dropped there’s another IG post with the following picture and caption. Apparently, Sugar Daddy shared his receipts - specifically AmEx - with celebtm.

October 26th

On October 26th celebtm posts the second part of the article. It’s messier, with a more confusing timeline than the first, but tries to “spill” more details on Sugar Daddies relationship with Briana and her life in general.

Also by now we know his name - Michael Strauss. An investor in Warwick club in LA.

https://celebmagazine.com/louis-tomlinson-baby-mama-briana-jungwirth-double-life/

(Again this is the link - if the article gets taken down and you want to see it - DM me)

October 27th

Then a day later we get another IG post - no new article - just more excerpts from what the Sugar Daddy told celebtm.

Then it’s quiet for a few days and when you think this can’t get even more trashy - low and behold the circus that is called October 29th.

October 29th

So after a few days of silence celebtm strikes again, but this time they bring in TV’s most loved judge - Judge Judy. Apparently the TV show was willing to take this litigation and air it as an episode.

As always, they post an IG post and a caption, and the article mentioned in the IG caption below is basically an article written for clicks about Louis and Harry because they saw the larrie part of the fandom was getting them clicks. I’ll leave the link to the article here for documentation purposes, but honestly there’s nothing in there worth giving them clicks for. Not a thing. The title of the article is “A Complete Guide to 1D Members Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles’ Rumoured Relationship”

Article: https://celebmagazine.com/louis-tomlinson-harry-styles-relationship/

November 6th

We see the sudden return from social media exile of Bri to IG. She’s back - with a post and the description ironically saying “I’m back”. I refuse to post it because does anyone really want to look at her face-tuned selfies?

November 9th

Then after weeks of radio silence, the return of Bri to IG, we get what is apparently the - very underwhelming - like Bri’s boobs to Sugar Daddy who never got to see them - conclusion to this Sugar Daddy drama. This following article which is basically a letter from Michael to Briana telling her how he’s giving up on the lawsuit, taking this as a life lesson and how he hopes no one else falls for her scams. Article below:

https://celebmagazine.com/michael-straus-briana-jungwirth-open-letter-to-one-direction-louis-tomlinson-alleged-baby-mama/

(Again this is the link - if the article gets taken down and you want to see it - DM me)

And of course - the article is accompanied by an IG post by celebtm.

So, here we currently are. After watching that circus show no one wanted not paid for (well except the Sugar Daddy, and he didn’t even get to see the thing he paid for - so sad.) we’re in November and the Jungwirths and company are back to their carefree posting on IG.

Current status:

The lawsuit seems to have been dropped.

Everything seems to be in process of being swept under the rug.

Nick - the loving fiancee - is back to IG too. All of his happy, loving pictures with Bri still up (some deleted) - so we must assume their love survived Boobiegate.

As for overlapping timelines:

The timelines overlap mostly during the months March-October with it being said Bri dated Brody, but was also taking money from Boobie Daddy who was helping her during the pandemic, and was later also apparently starting a serious relationship with Nick.

What actually went on - I don’t know. And I’m honestly not interested to find out. This is being mentioned just so anyone coming across this post knows that yes - you didn’t read it wrong - the timelines do overlap with different people saying different things and Bri being tied to all three men at those times without any real clear timeline for the relationships.

So far this is all there is to this mess. If there’s more - I’ll do a part two or addition.

I’d like to end this with saying - these masterposts are 95% just me making them for myself because I forget stuff, and so much goes on in the fandom that if I want to keep up with it all, I need a nice timeline for things. I’m posting this for anyone wanting to make sense of this circus too or just to put it into a timeline. I did fact check all the dates, posts, IG pics, links and so on - but mistakes can happen - if there is one feel free to let me know.

#boobiegate #bri #masterpost

646 notes · View notes

myonepiece · 3 years

Note

Hey just stumbled across your blog! I’ve recently started watching one piece for the first time and I have to (shamefully) admit that I’m a sucker for that asshole Akainu. I just love muscles and older men, don’t judge me 🙈 could you do some headcanons for him and maybe his dating preferences (e.g. younger or older women, personlaity etc) and maybe some nsfw headcanons? If you feel comfortable writing for this trashy human being.

Akainu HC- Relationship HCs

I find Kizaru very attractive so no judgement here~

What he wants in an S/O:

Innocent & sweet, Akainu is a pretty old school guy. He wants an S/O who is in no way like the guys he has to fight. Someone who can make him forget about the evil that he faces everyday.

Mature, he wants an innocent S/O but he wants them to be able to handle the things they see/see him do. He can’t have them have numerous emotional breakdowns everytime they see him kill someone

I don’t have a specific word for this but someone that listens to him. Like if he were to say “stay here” while he has to deal with some villains or if he told them they had to leave him because the fight was getting too dangerous, he wants someone who would listen to those orders

Strong/powerful, he’s completely fine with a civilian S/O but he would prefer someone that can handle their own so he doesn’t have to be looking over his shoulder all times and worrying about them. He gets quite worried when he goes away for a mission, and having a strong S/O would help put his mind at ease a tiny bit knowing they can protect themselves until he gets back

Someone who understands his position, they have to understand that he has to kill people. He has to leave a lot for his job and he wants them to wait for him, also they have to understand that he doesn’t like PDA. He has an image and reputation to uphold meaning he can’t have his S/O talking about all the sweet things he does in private or have them showing affection in public

HCs:

So as much as Akainu hates PDA, he does like to have an arm around you when you go out together for not so serious events. He might even hold your hand.

He’s very protective- very divided on letting people know you’re his because on one hand it means that people would be scared to harm you, but on the other hand it means that people would target you because of your relationship with him. So when he does let people know you’re toegther, it’s when you move in with him per his demand, so that he can keep an eye on you and there will always be marines around to gaurantee your safety. (He totally has a group of marines solely trained in babysitting you)

Ahhhh the cuddles with this man! He won’t ever initiate them unless he’s doubting himself/your relationship or if he just got back from being away. But he loves when you cuddle him, in private only though and he never shows how much he likes it. He likes the change of pace, from danger and dirty pirates, to your little kisses peppering his face. He’ll pretend he doesn’t care but he sooo has EXTREMELY light blush and a tiny smile when you look away. Always the big spoon no matter what, he likes feeling like he’s protecting you, and the way you cling onto him just makes him feel so strong and loved. He holds you so close and tightly as if some pirate would run in and take you away. You’re literally the only thing keeping him from completely falling into the darkness.

He lowkey loves having you at his side when he attends some marine gathering or something. Like the way the other marines and even some of the admirals/vice admirals look at you makes him feel really proud and manly. But if one person makes a comment about your looks or relationship with him thats slightly insulting, Akainu gonna play the Admiral card and scare the shit out of the poor marine.

When he leaves you for a mission, the day and night before he likes to spend with you, so he can remember while he’s away. He’ll take you on a date or simply stay home and enjoy your presence. While he’s away, he keeps a photo of you somewhere on his ship. Truth be told sometimes things get really dark for him and he likes to take out your picture and just stare at your smile for a bit to remind him of the angel he has waiting for him back home

Let us discuss kisses now~ he’s pretty firm, but after a few second his lips will adjust to the contact and get fairly soft. The kisses he initiates are usually rough, but he just adores when you kiss him because your kisses are always so soft and sweet. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. He likes kisses on his lips, shoulder, chest, and jawline and his nose. He likes kissing your lips, neck, hand, top of head and forehead

Fuck I think I might have a thing for Akainu now

#one piece headcanon #one piece #one piece akainu #admiral akainu #akainu #one piece headcanons

152 notes · View notes

laceymorganwrites · 3 years

Text

Dabi + cinema

CONTAINS MANGA SPOILERS

A/N: I personally absolutely adore the cinema and think he would too. This is mostly word vomit as to why I think he does plus some cinema date hcs in the end

Taglist: @serowotonin

Dabi overall loves places that are dark

he doesn´t like to be seen unless it´s necessary

the cinema is perfect since it´s loud too and the smell of the sweets overshadows his stench

as a child he used to sneak into cinemas a lot, especially when Rei didn´t look after him and his father was at work

it was like home to him, the staff let him in every time since they already knew his situation

he felt so comfortable there

as he got older he snuck in after closing time to sleep there as well

that was after he ran away from home for good

his first and only paid job was at the cinema too

he would clean up after closing

nobody had to see him and he was busy, a good distraction from his thoughts

Dabi is such a cineast it isn´t even funny anymore

he watches so many movies and so many different genres as well

his favorite are the indie dramas and trashy horror movies

at first he got really nervous about the other people in the room

he always sat in the right corner in the very back, that´s his spot since he doesn´t disturb anyone there

he´s surprised when someone starts a conversation with him about how the back has the best seats since nobody disturbs anyone there and it´s like a own world

Dabi wants to run away however he doesn´t. He stays and makes some new friends

friends he only sees in the cinema, people like him who don´t ask questions, who don´t judge, who just enjoy a good movie or laugh about a bad one together

this is the family he always wanted

also: Dabi never eats anything, but drinks water during the movie

he hates it when people munch loudly next to him and misbehave

he once almost got kicked out for starting a fight with someone who took off their shoes and socks and put their gross feet on the seat in front of them

he´s also the type of guy who you hear “shut your phone off, dickhead” from

just another reason why I love him so much

anyways, cinema date hcs:

he takes you to a sneak preview in his favorite cinema

everyone knows him there, it´s nice and comfy, a small cinema where only the cultured people go and you can avoid annoying teens who want to watch the new superhero movie

pays for any drinks and snacks you want cause yes, he is a gentleman (you´re the only person aside from his friends that he tolerates eating noises from)

he greets everyone and introduces you to them

the sneak preview crew are like a little family, they´re always the same people, every Wednesday night they come together to watch whatever movie

it´s super chill and you immediately feel welcome

before the movie starts they tell you fun stories about the last movies, about the weird people that sometimes came in and talked to themselves, the people who left during the movie since they couldn´t bear it anymore (because either it was too splattery or just too dumb)

you can immediately tell how comfortable Dabi feels and it brings a smile to your face

the movie starts and it´s one of those painfully bad, unfunny romcoms

everyone sighs, Dabi just leans back and grins

now the fun´s about to start

everyone starts laughing at how bad it is, commenting on some scenes, everyone´s talking about it while it´s happening, people are shaking their heads and sighing in disbelief

the usual Wednesday night Dabi wouldn´t trade for the world

it´s so peaceful, he feels understood

this is home

48 notes · View notes

neverdoingmuch · 3 years

Text

now hear me out,,, an au where lan wangji is an editor who works for an erotica publisher and wei wuxian is essentially chuck tingle. (also lwj writes romance novels on the side)

wei wuxian didn’t plan to write erotica he wants to make that really clear, he was actually studying like biomed or something equally “oh wow my parents can brag to the other parents about this”

but, as frequently happens in wwx’s life, he got drunk with nhs, like really drunk and they woke up the next morning with a laptop on the floor beside them and loose paper strewn everywhere

they don’t really remember what they were doing or thinking last night but they’ve both drawn a bunch of really shitty and weird porn (the less said about the anthropomorphic version of wen chao’s pet turtle the better) and wei wuxian has like 20,000 words of an erotica story on his laptop

when he starts reading it, at first he’s like haha what the fuck this is so weird but then it turned out to be really good??? and nhs blushed at some of the ~sexy~ scenes so that’s how wwx knew he was writing the good stuff

anyway they’re sitting there, eating their hangover food and wei wuxian goes so uh my story was good right? and nhs is like yeah it was, top stuff i would buy it and wei wuxian goes what if i actually wrote it,,, haha just kidding,,,,, unless?

and in his defence he doesn’t actually write anything for the story for another like three months but then he finds himself in the middle of exam season and he’s like fuck it stress relief let’s write some erotica

he finishes the book and his exams (which he does well in but whatever) and then spends his summer holidays editing the book

when he comes back, he slaps down a paper copy on nhs’ desk and is like i finished it. nhs, thinking he meant his latest lab write up, opens it up to a random page and starts reading it out loud which was a Mistake

he trails off mid-sentence, and whips around to glare at wwx with all the wrath he can muster. it’s raunchy nhs says and just read it wwx tells him so nhs does

like 2 hours later nhs turns to him and says if it wasnt for you and the librarian staring at me the whole time i definitely would’ve felt something and wwx is like so it’s good? and nhs is like fuck yeah it is but i dont get what you want from me?

pretty much wwx passed out after exams, slept for like 20 hours and then woke up and went i should publish this and decided that nhs should draw the cover art.

nhs agrees of course and a month later wwx self-publishes bc there’s no way he can walk into a publishing house with his porn and not just combust on the spot and he decides to go by the name yiling patriarch

wwx clicks the final button to upload the fic and nhs just toasts him and goes yknow what,, this is the closest you’ve ever gotten to having sex and i’m proud of you

wei wuxian is the man who guarded his first kiss for the first twenty years of his life for someone special,,,, wwx definitely wants his first time to be special and there’s no way he’s putting out for someone he doesn’t think is important & despite having dated before, he’s never gotten close enough to someone to go yeah let’s do it so our boy is still a virgin

so wwx’s entire erotica writing inspiration comes from porn, nhs’ way too in-depth answers as to how his latest date went and uh more porn

wwx blusters about a bit bc how is he meant to respond to that and nhs is like maybe you’ll finally move on from reading those trashy romance novels and read something more exciting and wwx is like how dare you call them trashy!! hanguang-jun is a master of the romance novels!! he understands the heart in a way that no other person has ever!!

and nhs just chugs a bunch of wine and is like yeah hon okay, do you still blush when the main characters hold hands? and wwx is like no! of course not! (it’s a lie, he blushes a lot)

so nothing really happens with the book at first and wwx forgets about it for the most part but then he wakes up one morning and he’s got an extra like RMB 1000 (i dont actually know much about currency so it’s roughly $200 if my quick interneting is legit)

wwx is like wtf? and once he finds out it’s from his novel he’s doubly like wtf? but then he finds out that someone had purchased his book and did a dramatic reading on youtube bc wwx decided that regular erotica was boring and decided to make it satirical or whatever and people loved it??

he’s got nothing better to do so he just goes hm yeah remember that Author i dated who had an “incredible idea that would absolutely amaze The Critics and helped explore his own convoluted mind” let’s make something of that and he writes another book kinda mocking that idea in a very horny way.

he publishes it and someone writes a review of his two books on their blog and now he’s actually starting to get popular - he’s got more money from those two books than he did by working at the local cafe for the whole week

wwx is poor and broke and semi-disowned anyway by this point so he goes fuck it and spends every moment he’s not studying writing erotica.

he publishes another like five books by the time the year is out (i know the maths isnt working here but this is a book world where wwx can just do that via the power of loneliness and friends who egg you on)

also?? he varies his books. some of them are porn parody things a la chuck tingle and some of them are genuine porn and one book was just him writing a recipe book but making it sound as horny as possible

by the time he’s published his like 8th book or so he starts getting reviews that are critiquing his book and most of them boil down to the fact that he needs an editor or something

he ends up asking nhs for help and he’s like oh sweet my brother’s boyfriend works for a publisher who does that sort of thing

cloud recesses actually specialises in erotica and i hate the idea that lqr has spent years reading and editing erotica but sacrifices must be made

(side note that i know nothing about the writing or publishing process so pls don’t judge me too harshly)

wwx goes in with his latest manuscript and ends up arriving like ten minutes late, he rushes into the room sweaty and hot, takes one look at the guy sitting on the other side of the desk, flushes an even brighter red and runs back out of the room. he checks the plaque on the door and walks back in slowly and goes hm i didnt expect you to be so hot

cue lan wangji

lwj has always enjoyed being an editor. what do editor do specifically? idk? edit? regardless, he enjoys it.

while most of the time he’s happy working from this side of things he also likes writing

lwj fucks. he deserves it tbh. but, while he’s had a tonne of one night stands and fuckbuddies, he’s never actually dated someone. so the fact that he’s writing romance novels under the pseudonym hanguang-jun makes his friend jzx laugh a lot

he tried writing porn once and he just couldn’t do it. it was always too clinical or vague and lacked any actual passion bc he was always going oh okay mc sucks a dick but the guy i slept with last week was like a 6.4/10 when it came to sucking dick so maybe mc should also be bad at it or whatever and it just ends up falling apart,,,, but romance he can do

as an editor lwj has pretty high standards for good erotica but he’s really found himself enjoying yiling patriarch’s work even though he’s clearly just been editing himself so when the guy sent cloud recesses an email asking whether they’d be interested in his latest book lwj was ecstatic.

he also didnt expect wwx to be so hot

anyway,,, we now get to enjoy a week of lwj thinking that wwx is super hot but even more annoying and then him deciding that annoying is hot and now wwx is just absolutely amazing and wwx is just panicking the entire time

i want my publisher to rail me so hard wwx texts nhs and nhs just responds has he read the bdsm scene with the alien who has a tentacle dick and a knot yet? and wwx is like no??? nhs just goes shame, it will give him so ideas for if you ever grow a backbone and just ask him out

they publish one book together and nothing happened between them the entire time other than yearning and horniness,, of the heart and body.

when wwx realises this means that he won’t get to see lwj again he immediately writes a new book and like a month later he’s back in lwj’s office, lying on his couch while whining about the cafeteria prices at university

lwj is very enamoured by the fact that wwx is writing erotica and studying biomed bc wow

they do this for like another three books and wwx’s eroticas evolve from here’s a dinosaur man fucking a politician while a mary sue watches on to be like here’s a dinosaur man with black hair and golden eyes and a stern look to his face fucking a politician while a mary sue watches on

and hanguang-jun’s latest book?? i dont want to say that this au’s version of wangxian is hanguang-jun finally finding inspiration to write porn (his muse is wwx of course) and writing the most amazing porn with feelings and plot novel ever,, but it is.

wwx read it five times in the first week and when nhs finally tried to read it he was like uhhh wwx are you a narcissist, the love interest is exactly like you? and wwx is like ??? no???? he’s nothing like me??

anyway one day wwx gets called into lxc’s office and lxc is like so i’ve read your latest book (not the dinosaur man, a serious one with like normal people and not overly humorous thank fuck but still full of lwj yearning) and wwx is like okay? and lxc goes yes, see i was worried that you didn’t care very much for my brother but after reading your book i’m not so sure and wwx gets the weirdest shovel talk ever which is interspersed with like compliments for his porn writing skills

anyway lxc accidentally mentions that lwj writes books too and before he can take it back wwx is like who??? and lxc is like are you fucking stupid?? you told lwj to his face that you loved his books,,, he broke his theme of tender romance to write kinky sex with a character that’s a lot like you and wwx is like .,,,,,,,,, hanguang-jun??? HANGUANG-JUN???!!

lxc barely manages to confirm it before wwx is sprinting out of his office and across to find lwj.

regretfully for everyone else, lwj is in the lobby so thirty people get to hear it when wwx comes in and shouts LAN ZHAN!! back then, i really wanted write porn about you! ... i think i have actually? but i want to write porn about you and i want to be able to do the research to make it accurate! and i also want to go on dates and hold hands and feed each other food! and i love you a lot!

lwj is dying inside bc his brother’s bf is there, his uncle is currently waiting for the elevators and a whole bunch of staff are also there but also wwx likes him??? dinosaur man was lwj??

he goes over and they make out for a really long time right there in the middle of the lobby but no one wants to get between them when they’ve been pining for so long

after that they start dating and they do all the romantic stuff but also,, let’s just say that the next book wwx publishes is a lot more creative than all of his previous books

and they become some writing power couple with horniness of the heart and body and sometimes wwx will be like hey lwj i don’t really know how the logistics of this sex scene will work and lwj will be like we could try it out ourselves? and wwx just pats him on the head and is like im sorry but you dont have enough dicks for it to work ),: better luck next time

#mdzs #modao zushi #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #im so sorry everyone #i just got the idea and it wouldnt leave me alone #cql #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #have i read any erotica? no. have i read any chuck tingle? also no. am i an editor? no #so this is gonna be very shit #this is why people should be sending me prompts instead of me just writin shit myself #nsfw-ish?

141 notes · View notes

tripleaxeldiaz · 3 years

Text

maybe one day i’ll fly next to you

chapter 4/8

read on ao3

start from the beginning

“Buck!”

Buck nearly slices his hand on the skate he’s supposed to be sharpening when he hears May’s voice. He drags his eyes away from ice long enough to see her, Chim, and Maddie looking at him expectedly. Apparently, that wasn’t the first time she’d said his name.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said we’re going to that Thai place on Sawtelle for dinner, do you wanna come?”

“Oh, uh—” his eyes drift back in time to see Eddie land his cleanest quad lutz all day, and he tries not to smile. “I’ve got a session with Hen in a little bit, maybe tomorrow?”

“You okay, Buckaroo?” Chim asks. “You look...forlorn.”

Buck snorts and shakes his head. “I’m fine, just tired.”

Chim shrugs as he follows the girls out of the rink. Buck tries to focus, tries to get lost in the back and forth of sharpening, but he keeps getting distracted by Eddie’s practice and the way he commands the ice even when no one’s scoring him. He feels an ache in his chest watching him, a dull one but still there — it’s been a month since Skate America, and they still have lunch and hang out and everything is fine, but there’s also a tension between them now, the tension of knowing what it’s like to have their hands on each other, what the other one tastes like, and wanting to do it more.

They make eye contact as Eddie heads for the locker room, and he sends Buck a smile so warm Buck swears it’s better than sunshine.

He keeps thinking this waiting thing is going to get easier, but it really, really hasn’t.

“Did you guys get a divorce or something?” Buck jumps as Hen sits down next to him and starts lacing up her skates.

“What? We haven’t— We never— What?” Buck asks, voice an octave higher than normal.

Hen levels him with an unimpressed look. “Don’t give me that. You went from hating him to being attached at the hip to staring at him like a lovesick puppy in like six weeks. Either this is a lover’s spat, or it’s some kinky roleplay thing that I don’t actually want to know anything about.”

Buck doesn’t think he’s ever blushed so hard or so fast in his whole life. “Jesus, it’s none of those things! We—” he looks around quickly before turning back and lowering his voice, “we did kiss, at Skate America, but it was just once and we decided to...pause any next relationship steps until after the Olympics.”

“Why? You’re allowed to date teammates, that’s not against the rules.”

“I know, but—” he’s not sure how to explain I can’t stop thinking about him but that makes me lose focus and as much as I want to make out with him I also want to beat him at every possible competition without sounding insane, so he settles on “we just don’t want any distractions.”

“So you’re gonna pine for each other from afar for the next three months, because that’s less distracting than actually being together?”

Buck pauses lacing up his own skates. “Okay, so maybe it’s not a great plan.”

Hen shrugs as she pushes off from the boards, skating backwards so Buck can still see her skeptical frown. “It might be easier to handle if you just embrace it now. I know it’ll be easier for me to handle.”

Maybe she’s right, a little voice in his head whispers, because it makes sense. But at the same time, a relationship is something he’s never had to factor into competition season before, so he’s honestly not sure how to navigate it. Maybe it starts great, they’re mooning over each other, but then one of them has a bad showing, and it leads to animosity or jealousy or some other ugly thing that would drive a wedge back between them when they’d (he’d) just overcome it. Buck cares about Eddie, cares about their friendship, their potential relationship, Eddie’s general happiness. But he also cares about his career, about his own dreams, and call him selfish or single minded, but he really cares about winning the Olympics. And he’s not willing to risk hurting any of those things by jumping into something too quickly.

He wants to do this with Eddie, but he wants to do this right, when he can make Eddie a top priority like he deserves. If that means he has to endure a few more months of pining, then fine. Come February, it’ll all be more than worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, he’s sitting cross-legged at center ice, staring off at nothing, when he sees Eddie skating over to him out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t say anything, just sits down next to Buck, copying his position, and inviting himself into the reflective silence Buck’s created in the dim morning light.

He finds he doesn’t mind the company so much.

“Are we meditating?” Eddie whispers eventually, like he still respects the quiet even though he has no idea what it’s for.

“Something like that,” Buck says, and Eddie nods, lets them fall back into their own thoughts. It makes Buck melt a little bit, a welcome relief from the incessant buzzing he’s been feeling under his skin all morning.

The truth is, Buck hasn’t been able to make himself move for about 20 minutes. He came in for one last early practice before they’re supposed to fly to Japan, fell on every single jump he attempted, and eventually just didn’t get back up. He had half hoped giving up would spurn his stubborn streak to try one more time one last jump, but instead he just sat, his worries burying him deeper and deeper like freshly fallen snow.

He groans and leans back, laying flat on the ice, trying to focus on the bite of the cold on the back of his head instead of anything else. Eddie follows suit to mirror him again, and Buck’s stupidly grateful that he’s here. He turns his head to face him and is met with eyes glowing honey colored in the sunlight.

“I’m really worried about fucking everything up,” he says in a rush, like Eddie’s gaze pulled it right out of him before he could put all is walls up and lock them, pretend like he’s still strong and has it all together.

“You won’t,” Eddie says with no hesitation.

Buck rolls his eyes. “You don’t know that.”

“I do. I’ve watched you skate since we were 16. I know setbacks make you fight harder.”

“This isn’t about setbacks,” he says, sitting up and resting back on his hands. “This is about going to the last GP before the Final, where everyone is warmed up and has all their kinks worked out, while I can’t even land a clean triple loop.”

Eddie, once again, sits up to mirror him. “One bad practice doesn’t mean anything. Your programs are solid, the audience and the judges love you, you really have nothing to worry about.”

“Except your perfect jumps getting in my way.”

Eddie laughs and it echoes around the rink. “Yeah, except that. But hey, if I win, I’ll let you hold the medal, just to remember what gold feels like.”

With anyone else, Buck would bristle at a joke like that, especially after a trainwreck of a practice. Hell, three months ago, he certainly wouldn’t have been okay with Eddie saying it. But now he just laughs, and he feels almost relieved, because despite their being direct competition, despite the pause they put on whatever it was they were moving towards, he still has Eddie in his corner. He might not actually know how this next week will go, but Eddie believes in him, and right now, it’s enough to finally get him up off the ice, offering a hand down to Eddie to pull him up too. They linger for a minute, hands still clasped, before Buck pulls away and glides toward the edge of the rink.

“Think you can’t beat me in a 500 meter, golden boy?”

Eddie smiles that smile that makes Buck’s stomach drop, and then he’s flashing past him, halfway around the ice before Buck can even start. They go around and around, name calling and playfully shoving, and Buck’s nerves melt away with every burst of speed and every glimpse of joy on Eddie’s face.

~~~~~~~~~~

By the time they land in Sapporo, Buck’s so exhausted he feels a little drunk. He’s never been good at sleeping on long flights, always too distracted by the endless movie choices or a trashy thriller he picked up at Hudson News or his own worries swirling in his head. He finally managed to fall asleep for an hour before he was woken up by the warm weight of Eddie’s cheek resting on his shoulder, his hair softly brushing his jaw.

His only focus after that was on keeping as still as possible for the rest of the flight.

Eddie, thankfully, takes charge of herding him through customs and to the car waiting for them at arrivals, gently steering him so he avoids people and poles while his eyes are half closed. He’s much nicer about it than Maddie ever is, and he only runs into a wall once. Eddie apologizes for it profusely, gently rubbing his head checking for bumps. Buck has to literally bite his tongue before an embarrassing string of words tumbles of his exhausted mouth.

They make it to the hotel in one piece, and Buck barely has time to take his shoes off before he passes out, starfished on the bed, soothed by the background noise of Eddie puttering around the bathroom. 30 seconds later (actually four hours but it feels much shorter), an alarm goes off, and Buck is once again herded around the room and out the door, a cup of coffee shoved into his hand as they get in the van to take them to practice.

Thanks to the coffee and a 30 minute nap in the van, Buck’s at least awake enough to be functional when they arrive. He’s even more awake after a few laps around the rink, the wind stinging his face a better pick-me-up than caffeine. He runs his jumps with Bobby, lands them clean, and he feels good, his nerves quieted by lingering exhaustion and confidence he hasn’t been able to find in a few weeks.

He sees Eddie by the boards, the usual thrill of having him watch running through him, pushing him just a little bit harder, but it’s quickly snuffed out when he sees that Eddie’s not alone, and he’s not even looking at the ice. Instead, he’s talking to a handsome Russian skater, one that Buck’s known since they were juniors so he knows how big of an asshole he is. He’s laughing loudly like Eddie just told the funniest joke he’s ever heard, his hand running up and down Eddie’s bicep in a much too friendly way. Buck tries to shake it off and keep focused, but after falling out of two spins and almost face planting on a three turn, Hen sends him off to stretch on his own and “get your damn head on straight”. He stalks off, passing close enough to Eddie and The Asshole to hear The Asshole ask when Eddie will have time to get dinner before going back to the States.

Buck...he’s not jealous. He has no reason to be, he and Eddie are not dating. But he feels something boiling hot and nasty in his stomach, and he kind of wants to slam the guy’s hand with a toe pick every time his laugh pierces through the rink.

He’s being obnoxious and distracting, so Buck is pissed, but not jealous. And he is not avoiding Eddie by hiding in Chimney’s room until he’s sure Eddie’s asleep.

He does avoid him the next day, out of an abundance of caution that his brain-to-mouth filter might fail and he’ll say something he regrets, and because he does need to get his head on straight and focus like Hen said. He needs at least silver to qualify for the Final and push him a little bit further in the USFSA’s good graces, upping his chances of being named to the Olympic team in two months. He can’t do that if he’s worrying about non-existent relationship drama. So he fills the rest of the day with practice and conditioning, working hard enough that his brain quiets and he feels prepared, but not so much that he hurts himself. He sees Eddie here and there, thinks he tries to catch his eye a few times, but he’s got tunnel vision now, and nothing short of a life or death emergency will break it.

At least, that’s how his tunnel vision used to work.

But the next day during short programs, he sees The Asshole strutting towards Eddie again before their warm-up group goes out, and his tunnel crumbles, filling his brain with static and rubble.

His program could have gone worse, overall, but it also certainly could have gone better. A quad loop turned triple loop and a sketchy landing on his triple axel land him in third place, meaning his free actually has to be perfect to get him to the Final. Only the six highest scoring skaters after all Grand Prix events qualify, and last he checked, he was just in sixth place but could easily be overtaken. Eddie is (surprise surprise) in first, Buck feeling a strange mix of pride and panic as he watches him execute another flawless short. It seems to be only getting stronger as the season goes on, which should also be happening for Buck, but instead it feels like he’s slowly unravelling, hurrying to spin himself back together before he loses too much ground.

The Asshole is in second. Buck has to sit on his hands during the presser so he doesn’t reach across the table and smack that smug look right off the guy’s face.

“He really said he was ‘looking forward to representing his country at the top of the Olympic podium’. Like seriously? We’re all thinking it, but no one’s conceited enough to say it out loud and on the record.”

Maddie shrugs from the other end of the bed. “Maybe it’s a language thing. Like he meant to say ‘on the podium’ instead but got confused because English is hard.”

Buck levels her with an unimpressed glare. He had come to her room right after the presser, lamenting about everything that went wrong and stupid judges and stupid Russia (“Really, Buck? The whole country?”). He’s usually grateful for Maddie’s voice of reason, but today he just needs to vent all his frustrations that have built up over the past few days. He really doesn’t care if they make sense or not.

“You should see the way he’s throwing himself at Eddie. I’ve watched him flex his arms every time Eddie’s walked past for two days. It’d be funny if it wasn’t so irritating.”

“Well, I’m sure Eddie’s not falling for it if this guy is as big of a jerk as you say he is.”

Buck stays quiet, avoiding her eyes and slowly dragging a french fry through ketchup on the room service plate in front of him.

“Oh my god,” Maddie groans, reaching forward to shove his shoulder. “Do you really think Eddie is that shallow?”

“Well I don’t know!” Buck says. “I heard him ask Eddie out to dinner after the competition, maybe he said yes! It’s not like he’s seeing anyone.”

“It’s not like he’s seeing you, is what you mean. Since you were the one who said you two should wait until after Beijing.”

“Whatever,” he mutters as he stabs another fry into ketchup.

Maddie shakes her head. “Jealousy is not a good look on you, Buck.”

“I’m not jealous! I’m just...concerned for my friend, and—” He stops as Maddie just stares at him like she sees right through him. Which, he supposes, is probably not hard for her to do. She reaches out for his hand, taking it in hers and squeezing gently.

“If you’re that ‘concerned’,” she says, air quotes very much implied, “then I think you should just go talk to him.”

“And say what? ‘I don’t want you to go on a date with that handsome Russian man because I want to go on a date with you, even though I was the one who said we should wait because I’m an idiot’?

“...maybe not those exact words. But you do have to go back to your room, because it’s after midnight, the free dance is in eight hours, and I need to sleep.” She all but rolls him off the bed, pulls him into a quick hug, then shoves him into the hallway. “You got this! Use your words!” she yells as the door closes behind her.

When he gets back, Eddie is still awake, reading a book and icing his right ankle. He smiles at him in greeting, that same soft smile that Buck’s pretty sure only he gets to see. The smile he definitely didn’t see whenever he saw Eddie talking to The Asshole.

Maybe not all hope is lost.

“Rough day?” Buck asks, nodding towards Eddie’s ankle.

“Think I just landed on it weird,” Eddie says. “You did really great.”

“I think the judges would say otherwise, but thanks. You were really great, too.” They swim in a semi-comfortable silence as Buck gets changed. He waffles back and forth on what to say, if it’s actually even worth saying anything at all despite what Maddie said, until he faces Eddie again and blurts out, “So are you gonna go to dinner with that Russian guy?”

Eddie just blinks at him for a second before he starts laughing. It’s not a mean laugh, it’s more like a I can’t believe you just said something that dumb laugh. Maddie has a laugh that’s very similar.

He’s still catching his breath a bit when he answers. “No, no I’m not going to dinner with that guy. You know him, right? He’s a total douche. Pretty sure he was actually holding a flex whenever he was talking to me.”

Buck sits on his bed and tries to keep his own laugh in, worried that it would come out hysterical with relief. Not that he ever really doubted Eddie’s taste or ability to take care of himself. It’s just...nice to have it confirmed.

“Plus,” Eddie says as he gets his composure back fully, “I, uh, told him I’m interested in someone else anyway. So hopefully he’ll back off for good.”

Buck freezes, his eyes locked on Eddie’s. A wave of guilt washes over him so suddenly it makes him nauseous. As dumb as his friends may think he is, he’s not that dumb — he knows what he asked of Eddie when he put this thing of theirs on hold. But hearing that Eddie’s following through, seeing it in action — it doesn’t sit right with him. It makes him feel like he’s imposing, like he’s taking away part of Eddie’s life just for the vague chance that they could have something, something that’s not even guaranteed no matter how right it feels to Buck even now.

“Eddie,” he starts, waffling again, “if you want— I mean you shouldn’t have to— I don’t want you waiting around for— for me, for us, if that’s not something you’re interested in anymore.”

There’s a beat before Eddie moves, tossing his book and the ice pack aside. He stands gingerly, favoring his left side just a little bit, and shushes Buck when he tries to protest. He crosses the short distance between their beds slowly, like he’s trying to make sure Buck doesn’t bolt before he gets to him. Carefully, he reaches down to take both of Buck’s hands in his, moving until he’s standing just between Buck’s legs. When Buck doesn’t look up (partially out of embarrassment, and partially out of marveling at how warm and good Eddie’s hands feel in his), he squeezes gently until he gets his attention. Buck finally manages to lift his head, and is met with a look so full of fondness it takes his breath away.

Eddie lets out a slow breath through his nose. “I wasn’t kidding when I said it meant something,” he says quietly, unwilling to disturb the bubble of peace they seem to form when they’re together. “So I’m still very interested. And I really don't mind the waiting. It’s only three months — we’ll be too stressed and working too hard to think about anything else anyway.”

Buck tries to talk around the lump in his throat, but he can’t, so he just nods instead, squeezing Eddie’s hands back. Something loosens in his chest, a tension he thought was coming from agonizing over his programs and his protocols, but maybe not. Maybe he’s come to rely on Eddie, on his friendship and general presence, more than he thought he has over the past few months. That confirmation that they’re moving toward something, together, makes him feel grounded in a way that he hasn’t felt in weeks.

They stay in their bubble for a little bit longer, and Buck feels himself calm even more. Eventually, Eddie squeezes his hands one more time, whispering “goodnight, Buck” before pulling away and getting back in his bed. He turns the lights off, the room falling into darkness, and Buck drifts off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Something’s definitely wrong. Maybe it was minor yesterday, but after landing on his ankle eight more times during his free, Eddie’s clearly favoring his left side and in a whole lot of pain. It’s clear to Buck, at least — to anyone else, Eddie is all grace and smiles as usual, easily taking first place with no way for anyone else to beat him, even with three skaters left.

But Buck knows, knows Eddie and knows that feeling of trying to push through the pain better than anyone, but he doesn’t have time to do anything about it — talk to Eddie, talk to Bobby, talk to someone — before it’s his turn to skate. He tries to shove the worry down, but that raspy little voice is back in his head, whispering about all the worst things that could be happening to Eddie, and all the worst things that could happen to him again if he fucks up his own landings. Visions of cracked bones and bandaged cuts fly through his head — flashbacks to months of bitterness and rage and uncertainty. The panic at his dream potentially slipping away from him again floods his chest and makes it hard to breathe. He swears he feels his leg seize up, just like it used to, just like it hasn’t in over a year until right now, but can’t figure out if it’s real or not.

His music starts just as his spiral does.

The first fall is, technically, his fault. He’s too close to the boards for his triple axel, so he can either crash into them when he lands or stop short and hit the ice. He loses points either way, but in the split second he has to think about it, the latter seems less embarrassing and less painful. As he stands back up, he quickly does the math in his head. Accounting for his average component scores and any potential tech panel biases, he really, really cannot afford any more screw ups.

So, naturally, he falls again.

It’s the jolt this time — that fear that grips his entire body when he sees the ice so far below him, the memory of landing so incorrectly that he couldn’t walk for three weeks, couldn’t skate for even longer. And it’s all laced with worry for Eddie, who he knows is watching from the side, no ice on his ankle and still standing on it, trying to ignore something that’s only going to get worse. Maybe it’s projection, but he wouldn’t wish the misery he went through on anyone, not even Eddie when he couldn’t stand the sight of him, and especially not Eddie now.

He finishes by sheer force of will, his stubbornness and perfectionism overcoming his panic long enough to get him through his last step sequence and spins and to hit his final pose with a smile. The applause feels genuine, but he knows it’s not enough. It’s not even close to enough.

He finishes fifth in free skate, fourth overall, and he knows before he even sees the complete standings that he’s not going to the Final.

Luckily, since he finishes off podium, he doesn’t have any post-competition pressers or photo ops or reasons to slap on a fake smile for anyone. He goes back to his room and packs up so he has something to do with his hands. Maddie and May both text him about doing something with their last night in Japan, but the thought of going out and talking to his friends about their successes against his own failures kind of makes him want to throw up. Instead, he turns off his phone and finds a Japanese dub of Goonies playing on cable and burrows into bed in an attempt to get his brain to shut up for the first time all day.

When burrowing doesn’t work, he squishes himself into the armchair by the TV instead.

When that still doesn’t work, he paces.

That’s what he’s doing when Eddie gets back, looking worn out but still smiling, ribbon of his gold medal dangling out of his warm up jacket pocket. He waves goodbye to whoever is on the outside the door, but as soon as it’s closed, the act drops. Buck watches him sink against the door and lets out a long breath, grimacing as he tests out putting full weight on his right ankle.

Whatever anxiety Buck had managed to pace off (which really wasn’t a lot) comes back in full force, and he’s at Eddie’s side in three long steps.

“You’re hurt,” he says matter-of-factly.

Eddie shakes his head. “It’s just really sore, Buck, it’ll be better when I finally get to rest it.”

“No, it won’t be,” Buck snaps as he strides towards the ice bucket in the corner of the room to start filling up a bag. “You’ll think it’s getting better, and you’ll keep taking painkillers to take the edge off, but it’ll just keep getting worse, and you won’t even know it until your PT finally tells you it’s either two months off your feet to let it heal properly or you risk never being able to compete again.” He almost rips the bag in half as he finishes filling it with ice. He wraps it in a spare towel and shoves it at Eddie, who takes it gingerly before sitting on his bed and placing it on his ankle.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” Eddie says.

Buck shrugs. He might know a thing or two about trying to force healing too quickly and ignoring pain, about getting a cast off two weeks too early and almost having his bone heal crooked. But his issues are not what’s important right now.

What’s important is Eddie.

“Look, can you just—” Buck sits on the bed next to Eddie, hovering over him like he can use his body to shield Eddie from anything else that might hurt him. “Just promise me you’ll get it checked when we get home, okay? Don’t put it off, don’t wait until after the Final—”

“Hey,” Eddie says, his hand coming to Buck’s shoulder and squeezing. “I’ll go, I promise. First appointment I can get.” Buck nods, and Eddie nods with him, thumb softly pressing against his pulse point. He doesn’t feel better, but he feels less buzzy, less like he’s dangling off the edge of a cliff by the tips of his fingers.

Buck nods again, decisively, before quickly squeezing Eddie’s wrist and standing. Eddie catches his hand before he makes it very far, his eyes filled with an intensity he hasn’t seen off the ice.

“I’m okay,” he says firmly, reassuringly. “We’re okay. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”

You don’t know that, Buck thinks, but he just quirks a smile instead before heading to the bathroom.

He closes the door behind him, sinks to the floor, and tries to let any worse case scenarios push him back over the edge.

~~~~~~~~~~

[from: Eddie] It’s a stress fracture

[from: Eddie] They said if I had landed on it a few more times it would have been much worse

[from: Eddie] Glad I listened to you

Buck feels a weird sense of relief and unease as he reads Eddie’s texts. The door to Bobby’s office shuts behind him, the sounds of the rink muffled to a dull murmur. He’s not sure why he’s here — he hasn’t done anything to get him in trouble, and they literally had practice together an hour ago.

Bobby sits at his desk, hands folded in front of him. “So I’m not sure if you heard, but Eddie—”

“—has a stress fracture in his ankle, yeah, he just told me.”

Bobby smirks before continuing. “He’ll be out for the next six weeks at least, so he’ll be missing the Final.” He pauses for what feels like dramatic effect.

Buck scrunches his brow. “Right. But what does that have to do with me? I’m second alternate, that kid from Japan should be taking his spot.”

“And he is,” Bobby says. “But the skater from Canada who qualified also has to withdraw. I guess a bad case of the stomach flu has been going through their team. He won’t be back in shape by next weekend, which means—”

“I’m in,” Buck says quietly.

Bobby nods. “You’re in.”

Buck’s first reaction is to laugh. A high pitched, hysterical laugh because he really can’t believe this is happening. He screwed up, screwed up bad, but he’s getting a second chance, by some twist of fate or intervention from the universe or however the hell this happened. Bobby keeps talking about flights and practice schedules, and Buck hears him, but not really, because all he feels is relieved. Relieved that his Olympic chances maybe won’t be as squashed as he thought, and relieved that he gets a chance to prove himself again, to show that he can deliver and that he’s worthy.

That’s all he’s ever trying to do, really.

He leaves Bobby’s office practically floating, already texting Hen about when they can meet and tweaks he wants to make that will push his programs that much closer to perfect. He’s in the middle of calling Maddie when he gets a text back, pulling it up as she starts listing all the program improvements she has planned for her and Chim to work on since they didn’t make the Final themselves.

It’s not from Hen like he expects, it’s from Eddie — a picture of him laid up on a couch, foot in an air cast but still smiling at the camera.

[from: Eddie] Told you I’d take care of myself. I’ll be cheering you on from here

It hits him then, and he plummets back down to Earth at the reminder.

Eddie’s not coming with him.

He gets to try and keep his Olympic dreams alive, while Eddie stays home and hopes that he does enough to be healthy in time for Nationals.

A year ago, he’d be stupidly smug about a change of events like this. Now, it just makes his stomach twist and sympathy and sadness. He’ll be facing this competition alone — without his friend, his fiercest competition, his...Eddie — and no matter how much easier it might be for him to stay focused, alone is the last thing he wants to be.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #9-1-1 #fs au #ficcery

56 notes · View notes

theinternetisfulloftrash · 3 years

Note

not to be rude to that other anon, but someone can be heartbroken if their celeb crush has a partner??? especially if they have liked them for years. The way i see it, it’s the same as if you liked someone in high school and they started dating someone else, just with a 0% chance of it actually happening. Just because you wouldn’t feel it, doesn’t mean others wont - I just don’t see the point of dragging other people feelings if you don’t know them. There’s a lot of Dylan fans out there who have learnt every little thing about him, that it’s like they’ve known him their whole life - I can see some people’s feelings reaching a bit too far.

(however, bit of a different story if they were being rude to the partner, this anon clearly said they’d be happy for them)

While I understand that feelings are valid and cannot be helped. There's a lot of naivety in that response. I get it. Dylan is hot. Dylan is wonderful. We all love him, that's why we're here. I just think that you need to find a way to find a balance and look at things from a realistic perspective. Letting the idea that a man you do not really know being in a relationship ruin your day and break your heart is just...kind of unreasonable, in my opinion.

Also... I just think the things being expressed on a forum where he is being tagged and @ mentioned to see it are just wildly inappropriate at times and do cross a line. If I was in his shoes, it would certainly make me uncomfortable at times.

I understand where you are coming from with your argument and I'm not saying that everyone should agree on this. I just really think it is healthier to detach yourself a little bit from that depth of emotion when it comes to a crush on a celebrity and that maybe sharing that opinion might help some people gain a wider perspective? I don't know. I certainly don't want people to think I'm judging them, because trust me... I understand the appeal and how people get so caught up on this guy. He's really got just about every admirable trait you could be looking for.

I think fandom is a lot of fun, and it's fun to meet people who share interest and have an appreciation for the same thing that you do, but I also think that it's REALLY important to have healthy boundaries. For yourself, mostly... but also because he deserves to have his boundaries respected as well.

I don't really want to invite much more of debate on this topic, so I won't be replying to further anons about this in particular, but my inbox is always open for discourse! I just hope we can all respect one another and just know that we're all unique and respond to things differently. Just make sure you are taking care of yourselves and be kind to each other. The world is full of too much nastiness and I don't want my blog to be in any way a part of that.

- Trashy

Anon is referring to THIS ask

#dylan o'brien #fandom discourse #fandom chatter #anon #anon ask #ask #guard your heart people #and admire without letting yourself get so tied up you can't hang when he meets someone and falls in love #or doesn't #I DON'T KNOW HIM #may I repeat #these are just my opinions #and opinions have been wrong many times before #;)#trashy doesn't do discourse all that well #I am just trying to VIBEEEEE

4 notes · View notes

afriendlyblackhottie · 4 years

Text

Ransom Drysdale Must Die (Chapter One)

Summary: Ransom Drysdale is a serial cheater. The only way to get him to pay for what he’s done is for him to die. Or at least be extremely humiliated. As long as you don’t fall for him.

Pairings: Eventual Ransom Drysdale x black!reader, Ransom Drysdale x Multiple OC’s

Warnings: Swearing. Eventual smut.

(Author’s Note: I was watching John Tucker must die and it made me think of my favorite sweater wearing murder daddy.)

Tags: @night-of-the-living-shred

Word Count: 2.0k

It's not that you were invisible. You preferred to think of it as keeping a low profile. Growing up, you didn't really have a choice but to keep things to yourself. What was the point of trusting people if all you were going to do was leave? You couldn't make friends or keep them if you'd be moving in another four to six months anyway. Not that it was your choice.

It started at a really young age. Technically before you were even born. Your mom had been a teen parent. Your dad didn't stick around which was all you knew about him. It didn't take long for you to get used to the myriad of men walking in and out of your life. Then you got used to seeing your mom, your only constant, getting treated like garbage over and over and over.

She never had an issue with dating. It was them sticking around that was apparently tricky. The problem is that when it would happen the same thing always happened. She'd binge on chocolate. Use you as a shoulder to cry on. Then you'd be moving to flee into the next city. It was kind of fucked up.

While she cried over the hundredth guy your nose was either buried in a book or painting which had been your only escape. You never wanted to judge your mom. She didn't deserve to always have her heartbroken. But, you also didn't deserve having a mom that wanted to pack up at the first sign of trouble. She didn't seem to get that.

As an adult, you promised yourself that you would find one place and stick to it. It might have hurt your mom a little to watch you go, but she understood that you had to go away for college and stuff. Which is how you ended up in Boston. You kind of remember living in Boston once back in the day. You liked the winters surprisingly and the way the trees looked in the fall. You remembered being happy which is why it sucked so much to leave.

You’d gotten your degree, but finding a job had been difficult. Which is how you ended up working at this country club. Though you could live without all the snobby rich people being total assholes, at least they tipped well. You mostly waitress in the clubhouse where it was usually the older crowd and the families that sucked up to them for the inheritance.

It was also how you first noticed him. Hugh Ransom Drysdale. From the moment you laid eyes on him you could tell he was dangerous. Just like those men, your mother would fall for that would inevitably break her heart. That same air of arrogance hanging over him like a cloud, except much better looking with a trust fund to go along with it.

He insisted everyone in the clubhouse call him Hugh. Which according to everyone is what he insists the help call him. God, he's a fucking asshole.

You remember the first time you talked to him. He was so enchanting. It was annoying. He was like Gaston come to life. Just as handsome, just as charming, just as scummy. Sure he made those white polos he wore to play golf look like he'd just stepped off a shoot for GQ. His gaze was enough to make any woman swoon. Even you as much as you hated to admit it.

It'd been one of the few times you'd worked at the bar. Someone had called out and being the new girl you were told to take their spot. "Sweetheart, be useful and get me a bourbon," he'd said in this rude tone.

"Not even a please?" You muttered under your breath as you turned your back to get a glass.

"What was that?" He asked, with a quirk in his eyebrow.

You kissed your teeth before turning back to him, "Excuse me?" You plastered a sweet smile on your face.

"You got something to say? Say it." He challenged.

You shook your head. "I didn't... I didn't say anything."

He chuckled. "Okay, lo-"

Your jaw dropped as you put your hand on your chest. "Oh my god, Sir, if you're already drunk I can't serve you. You'd be a liability."

"That's a big word. Did they teach you that in community college?" The glare in his eye was intense and you couldn't help it as a smile spread across your face.

"Actually I think I learned it from where you get your trust fund."

You were surprised when he laughed. But, not that little sarcastic chuckle. Like an actual laugh. "Usually I'd call the manager over and enjoy them firing you in front of me, but lucky for you I'm in a good mood and kind of enjoying this. Now get me my bourbon."

"One bourbon coming up." You shrugged.

You talked with him for the rest of your shift surprisingly. The conversation going from hostile to surprisingly pleasant. He’d told you about some issue he’d been having with his grandfather that he hadn’t told the rest of his family he laughed at the idea of them finding out. Said he couldn’t wait to see the look on their faces when they found out everything was going to the nurse.

It was the trashy rich people drama that you craved.

“I know there’s gonna be a lot of bullshit when they find out they aren’t getting that house,” he’d scoffed, looking up at you from his drink.

“I’d be pissed too,” you replied. “I’m sure that house looks like a museum. I’d love to see it.”

“It’s insane.” He nodded. “Imagine like a horror museum with one of those escape rooms.”

You laughed. “So like plastic spiders? Cobwebs? Ghosts!” What a turn around this had been from the initial conversation the two of you were having.

“Not at all,” he said laughing. “It’s more like everything he’s ever thought for his novels, he just adds to his home. Like he needs the visualization. He has a secret window and a chair with knives. It’s insane.”

“That actually sounds pretty cool. Your grandpa sounds like a pretty cool guy, you must admire him a lot.”

“I mean... yeah, but I’d never tell him that.”

“Why not?” You asked with a chuckle.

“It’s complicated,” he answered, before bringing his glass up to his lips. “Like, I love him, but....”

“No. I get it.” Of course, you did. Your mom was a complicated figure in your life, but you could never not love her.

“I’ve done a lot of shit.” He shrugged. “So, I think it’s mutual.”

“At least his house sounds interesting. Like a work of art. I’m kind of a sucker for art.”

“Do you paint? Draw? Doodle on an iPad.” The way he smiled up at you, you would have never guessed that he was the giant asshole everyone made him out to be. There was this softness there even if it was hiding under his arrogant exterior.

You chuckled. “I paint. Though I do partake in the doodling on iPads.”

“I’d love to see your work sometime,” he said. “Do you sell?”

“I haven’t,” you replied. “But, I’m open to it. I guess. I’d show you now, but I’m not allowed to have my phone on the floor.”

“Oh so I’m not worth risking being fired for, I get it,” he joked, shaking his head as if he was offended.

You laughed, tilting your head back. “I know right. I’m already risking it by even talking to you. Harrington is so strict.”

There was this squint on his face as he kind of looked you up and down. It felt like he was studying you and it made you feel like you were under a microscope. “You’ve got a cute laugh you know that?”

No. Don’t give in. You had to tell yourself. You didn’t want to get involved with anyone you’d have to workaround. Besides, it was Ransom Drysdale. You’d just seen him with a woman yesterday. “Thank you,” you brushed him off. “Can I get you another drink?”

He sighed, checking the time on his phone. “As much as I’d love to stay and chat. I have to get going. Maybe I’ll stop by soon so we can talk again. Maybe show me some of your work?”

“Sure.”

He’d left you a forty dollar tip. You were not expecting that.

You’d left work that night feeling pretty good. Not that you were expecting him to fall in love with you or anything. Or for anything to happen at all. It was just a nice encounter with the guy everyone was obsessed with here. Besides you promised yourself you’d never, ever fall into the same trap as Mom had.

It’s not that you didn’t date. You were picky, though. The few relationships you’d had were okay, but you didn’t want to get hurt so you never wanted to get in too deeply.

Then the next day you had come to work, he’d walked in with Marissa on his arm. That stopped any and all thoughts you may have had. It was during that lull between when they'd stopped serving breakfast and brought out the lunch menus. You weren’t surprised that a man like Hugh Ransom Drysdale would be dating a woman like Marissa Clermont. She was exactly the type of woman men like him go for. You know a model IT girl type of deal.

It wasn’t just because he’d been dating Marissa. Of course not. It was because the day before you he’d just come in with Amber Taylor. The daughter of a retired Boston Celtics player. Also, a beautiful woman (also a model you think) who clearly didn’t know her boyfriend was two-timing her.

“Fascinating isn’t it?” Your co-worker, Britt, interrupted your thoughts as she’d come back from taking their drink order. Her arms were crossed as she tried to not make it too obvious that was she looking over at them. “He comes in here with different women and none of them have any idea.”

You frowned as you saw him whispering in her ear, making her giggle, probably telling her the same thing he told Amber just yesterday. “Yeah, I see that,” you replied. “How does he get away with it?”

“Ladies! Back to work!” Harrington, your manager, barked towards the both of you which made the both of you scurry off before she even had the chance to answer. You didn’t even get to talk to her because her shift was over soon then you were off the next day. You weren’t even sure why you cared so much.

When you got back to work it was during that lull time. Ransom was there of course with a different woman. Chloe Daniels. A blonde that had been the sole heir to her husband’s entire fortune no matter how much his ex wife or adult children tried to fight it. You were happy you got to witness the drama for that.

“He messes around with girls that don’t talk to each other,” Britt was finally able to explain. “So, they never find out. At least, that’s what the story around here is.”

“Wow he has a whole system worked out...” you crinkle your nose. Ugh what a fucking pig. Just like your mother and those douchebags she dated.

“I mean, I kind of get it,” Britt said. “He’s hot. I might put up with being treated like trash for that much. Hell, I’ve put up being treated like trash for much less.”

You held in the laugh you wanted to let out as you could see Harrington lurking around, waiting to say something to the two of you. He never missed his chance to give out orders.

For as long as the couple sat through you couldn’t stop staring. Britt was right. It was fascinating.

#ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey x you #ransom x y/n #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x black!reader #ransom drysdale x poc!reader #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x black!reader

116 notes · View notes

shihozaki · 3 years

Note

hello! could i get a male haikyuu matchup please? take as long as you need! i go by rita, she/her, and i’m 16. i’m an intj-t, libra, and slytherin. my favorite colors are black, green, and purple.

when you first meet me i’m very reserved and quiet but polite too. i’ve been told i’m intimidating because i’m serious. once i open up i’m chill and funny. i’m stubborn and hot headed. i like keeping things neat and in order, i care a lot about being successful later in life and getting good grades. i have anxiety and can get a bit paranoid but i’m working on it. i’m a loner bc i don’t like the people around me but i plan on making new friends once i get to university. idk it’s just difficult for me to make friends. i’m creative and a bit emotional,,, like my emotions can change quickly but i don’t really show it. i enjoy spending time with the people i’m close to (watching something with them, playing board games, etc). my hobbies also include baking, writing, and relaxing. my love languages are gifts and quality time. i also kin tsukishima and kageyama to help you understand my personality.

i’m 5’6, i have short dark brown wavy hair, some bits are bleached blonde, i’m pear-shaped and i’m a bit chubby. my eyes are dark brown, i wear glasses, and my skin is pale at the moment but i’m darker in the summer. i wear a lot of black.

my ideal s/o is kind and loyal. i don’t really mind much as long as they enjoy spending time with me. i don’t like liars, arrogant and ignorant ppl, and ppl with closed minds. my ideal date is something chill like watching tv or a movie or walking around the city.

extra info: i’d like to just be a student at their school, and could the scenario be them confessing? i also enjoy watching trashy reality tv and have a hamster and a dog!

i hope this was okay, lmk if you’d like me to redo something and pls take as long as you need,,, ty!

Thank you for waiting so patiently, it’s always nice to meet another INTJ-T! I hope you enjoy it :)

I pair you up with Haiba Lev!

- You were told you had to be in a club or a team, so you just signed up as the boy’s volleyball team’s manager. And it was the most amazing yet traumatic experience.

- When you first stepped into the gym, the boys were thanking the gods for bringing them a female manager. You were suddenly swarmed by teenage boys who protected you and helped you.

- Lev Haiba was one of the boys, and he happened to catch your eyes. After all, he was tall, handsome and soon to be a model. Surprisingly, you caught his eye too, and he started paying attention to you often.

- Lev found himself following you around, trying to impress you. He was always buying you things, texting you, etc!

- You suspected that he had a crush on you, but you weren't sure. You didn’t want to assume, but a part of you hoped that maybe one day he would confess.

- Surprisingly that day came fast, and you guys started going out! Lev was very excited, planning your first date together. You guys decide to go to the movies.

- He’s so dramatic- every time you deny him a hug or a kiss as a joke, he acts as if he’s dying. He can always earn a smile from you, even if you’re in a sour mood.

- Lev sees you as a cool person, since you judge almost everything and he usually just perceives things. Lev compliments you a lot, knowing it would get you flustered.

- The nekoma team were surprised when you started going out with Lev, but hey, I guess opposites attract :)

- Overall, you guys have a very fun and chill relationship, Lev is like a dog that loves you and follows you around!

Scenario: When he confesses!

“I like you, Rita! Please go out with me!” Said Lev. Loudly. In front of his teammates. You tried to hide your blush as you pulled Lev out of the gym and into the equipment room. “You just had to confess like that?” You muttered. You covered your face with your hands. “Is that a no?” Asked Lev, reaching his hand to yours and pulling it down, revealing your embarrassed face. You turned away, unable to meet his eyes. “Not exactly…” you whispered. Lev smiled. “You don't have to be so embarrassed, Rita. I’m the one confessing!” He gave a laugh, pointing at himself. You laughed along with him. “I will go out with you. But from now on…” You pulled Lev down to your height, meeting his eyes to yours. “...No more public confessions.” Lev nodded. His eyes were glistening with happiness, and you could also feel serotonin from his genuine smile. “Don’t get too excited now, I don’t want you to die before our first date.” You joked. “Date! We get to go on a date!” Said Lev, as if he felt honoured to go on a date with you. You giggled and grabbed his hand, dragging him out of the equipment room. “What am I going to do with you?”

Song: Don’t Need A Gun by Billy Idol!

Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoyed it. Please do not hesitate to leave your opinion about the work, and I hope to see you again soon :)

#haikyuu fanfiction #anime fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #lev x reader #matchups #matchups closed #haikyuu matchups #haikyuu!!

9 notes · View notes

yeetedintoouterspaces · 4 years

Text

Caneles ☁️💫

▪︎pairing(s): Miya Osamu x Reader

▪︎genre: fluff!

▪︎warning(s): mentions of bullying but it ends with fluff!

Y/n L/n, a decently popular girl who is well known for her baked goods. Although she's been pretty popular among the boys, she's never really liked any of them.

Because there is only one she likes. And that person was none other than Miya Osamu.

How cliched, the man who is best knowned for his love for food and huge appetite is liked by the one angel who bakes the best sweets in Inraizaki. But here's the twist, Y/n has fallen into some deep "drama". To be honest, none of the rumours circulated about her was remotely true. Of course they aren't. Only a fool would believe rumours. Unfortunately, that isn't the case here. Many fell for the lies of Himiko Saiko.

Y/n was in a friend group consisting of Saiko, Maika and Shana. They were the classic fangirls who fawned over the popular Miya twins. However Y/n has been catching Osamu's attention because of her amazing culinary skills of course. So Y/n continued to bake with Osamu in mind. Especially Caneles, since they were Y/n's specialty.

Of course the other girls never liked that. I mean, Y/n is getting a chance with Miya Osamu, arguably one of the most popular boys in Inraizaki. Of course they would do anything in their power to stop that. Even if it meant for them to betray her trust.

~ the first attempt ~

Y/n got the group a bunch of matching scrunchies because she wanted to thank them for being her friend. Y/n is a shy girl and she was so happy to finally be accepted into a group where she isn't judged for who she is. She smiled as she passed everyone a scrunchie, thanking them as well. "Ah! Sorry I need to get somewhere." Y/n says as she hastily leaves the classroom.

This was the perfect opportunity for the girls to strike.

Saiko sarcastically says loudly, "wow~ how thoughtful of her! Too bad these don't go well with any of my clothes~" Saiko stood up from her seat as she threw the scrunchie into the trash bin.

The other girls followed along as they sat back down at their seats.

"Ne Osamu-kun, don't 'cha think that was lame of Y/n?" Saiko asks as she looks at the boy. Osamu stayed silent, not wanting to involve himself into any drama. Saiko smiled and giggled, "that's what I thought. You dont't like her too!"

Saiko made her way to his seat and sat next to him. She rested her head against her hand as she asked, "ne Osamu-kun~ Does Y/n-chan annoy you a lot?~ She keeps giving you food. Don't you think that's pretencious of her?"

"I-" before he could say anything, Y/n came back into the class. As she was walking pass the trash bin, she saw the familiar fabric pieces she just gave to her "friends". Not wanting to cause anything unnecessary, she sat back down at her seat, holding back her tears.

Y/n was giving them the benefit of the doubt that it was an accident or someone else has those scrunchies and it wasn't her friends who threw them away.

She stayed silent as she continued the rest of her day.

~ the second attempt ~

Y/n was absent from school so the girls took the chance to do something nasty.

"Oh my gosh! Did you hear that Y/n dated 2 guys at once? What a slut! She should know better as our friend!" Saiko says obnoxiously loud, so the whole class could hear. Osamu could hear the lace of poison following the word friend. These girls are horrible and he wanted to do something. But what could he do? He didn't know what to do and who could blame him to be honest.

The other 2 girls followed along saying, "now that I think about it, didn't she cheat on someone recently?" "Mhm! It was the third year senior right?"

Suddenly the class was filled with whispers and muttering. Everything was going according to plan for the girls. Adorable Y/n's reputation which was perfect and seamless, was now like cinders at a fireplace. Burnt and gone.

~ the third attempt ~

Y/n made a fresh batch of caneles, wanting to give them to Osamu. She packed them into a cute paper bag and for the final touch, placed a cute rabbit sticker to hold the bag shut.

As she was making her way to school, she saw her crush and ran over.

"Ne Osamu-kun!" Y/n called out as she waved. She passed him the bag of Caneles and smiled, "I really hope you like them!" Osamu smiled back, "thank you, I'm sure they'll taste good." Y/n ran off first as she had morning duty. Of course Saiko and the others saw everything unveil. And of course they had to do something.

The group made their way to Osamu and Saiko sighed. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry Osamu-kun. Is she annoying you again? I'll do something about it next time." And with that, she snatched the bad of food out of his hands and threw it into the bin.

Furious, Osamu shouted, "hey! Quit bein' a bitch to Y/n. You're just jeal-" "I have nothing to be jealous of Osamu-kun. She's an obnoxious girl who only wants your attention. She's pathetic."

And with that, the group left. Out of sight from Osamu and Y/n.

~ the fourth attempt ~

School just ended and Y/n was tired out of her mind. She couldn't wait to get home and bake something. What will she make this time? Macarons? Marshmallows? Chocolates? Or maybe her special, Caneles!

She also wanted to make them becase she wanted to give more to Osamu. He said that he couldn't eat any because his pig of a brother devoured them all. But little did she know, it was a lie.

As Y/n stood up, going to leave school, Saiko and the others stopped her. "Ne Y/n-chan, stop annoying Osamu-kun. Can't you see he's annoyed?" "I-I, uh. I didn't know," Y/n muttered softly. "Of course you wouldn't know an obnoxious bitch like you wouldn't notice."

Y/n retorted back, "I don't appreciate what you just said. Can't we just talk it ou-" "We don't want anything to do with you Y/n."

Y/n was on the verge of tears, she didn't want to cry now. She didn't want to look like a weak coward. Oh gosh, she wanted to die right now. She just wanted to go home and cry her eyes out.

Osamu saw everything and ran towards the scene, full speed ahead. "Screw of bitches!" He shouts as he holds Y/n's hand. He dragged her while he was running, forcing her to run with him too.

"W-Wait a sec, what are you doing?" Y/n asks clearly confused.

"Y/n they aren't your friends." He says with no hesitation. "W-What? I don't understand what you're saying Osamu-kun." Y/n whispers softly. She looked down as she played with the hem of her skirt. She knew what he meant but she didn't want to admit it. She never really had friends. So of course she would want to stick with them.

"Y/n you know damn clear about what I'm talkin' about... This actually hurts to see. You're amazing Y/n! You don't need trashy bitches to dictate you. So how 'bout we ditch 'em and we bake and cook together. We could have the time of our lives without anyone judging us."

And with that, for the first time in a while, Y/n could let out her tears. She cried softly as she crutched down to her knees. After all that happened, she finally has someone genuine that cares about her. After all those toxic encounters, she felt loved and cared for.

Osamu gets down as well to hug her. She smiled as tears continued to stream down her cheeks, "thank you," she managed to mutter out.

"I don't wanna see you ever crying again. You're a pretty girl Y/n."

Y/n blushes and chuckled, "her laugh is beautiful" Osamu thought to himself. "Thanks Osamu-kun. That was really sweet of you." Y/n got up and grabbed a bag of something from her backpack.

"For you!" She continues, placing the bag in Osamu's hand. "They are Caneles but I didn't want to pass this batch to you because I was planning to pass them to Saiko.." she bitterly continues.

"But now I can pass them to you!"

Osamu opens the bag and reaches to take a Canele, he took a bite and was a little surprised. Although it smelt like caramel and a little bitter, it tasted sweet and milky. His eyes sparkled with joy as he took another bite, and another one, and another one, eventually finishing the whole thing.

"Y/n-chan! You're amazing!" He praises as he reaches in to take another one. Y/n laughs, "you really like them do you." Osamu reached out the Canele to Y/n, signalling her to take a bite.

She got the signal and bit into it. "Mmm, it's good!"

"Ne Y/n, let's do this again sometime."

"Mhm!"

And with that, the once notorious Y/n was finally happy as ever. She made new friends and her new life was a 180 degree change from her previous one. She met many wonderful people like Miya Atsumu, Suna Rintaro and many more!

And now, she gained someone she could trust and lean on. Someone that could get her back to herfeet even though she was at her lowest. Her now boyfriend Miya Osamu.

Bonus!:

"Momma! How did you meet Papa?" Y/n's five year old daughter asked. Y/n chuckled, "well it all started with a little pastery Momma loved to make. It is called a Canele."

☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★

#osamu miya #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x y/n #miya osamu x you #osamu x you #osamu x reader #osamu x y/n #miya osamu fluff #miya osamu imagine #miya osamu scenarios #yeetedintoouterspace #hq miya #hq miya osamu #hq osamu #osamu fluff #osame imagine #osamu scenarios

58 notes · View notes

storiesforallfandoms · 4 years

Text

busy ~ jeff wittek

word count:

request?: no

description: when life makes it impossible to go on a first date, jeff decides to plan one that he will not let fall through

pairing: jeff wittek x female!reader

warnings: none

masterlist

Online dating was always hit or miss. Either you meet someone who was super crazy, or someone who was really nice but it never worked out. Tinder was that, but, whether they were crazy or nice, the only thing anyone wanted to do was hook up.

You were ready to completely give up on Tinder when you were matched with Jeff Wittek, a YouTube barber who was well known for being friends with David Dobrik.

You clicked right away. Within a matter od days, you were planning your first date. The only trouble was neither of you had the time for the date. You were an intern at the Los Angeles hospital, so you basically worked six days a week, and Jeff was always travelling with David. It got to a point where you both stopped trying to plan the date and just hoped it would happen naturally.

You got into your car after a particularly long day and put your head against the steering wheel. You felt exhausted and you couldn’t wait to sleep for like 12 hours.

You checked our phone to see you had a text from Jeff. It read: “Hey! Hope you’re having a good day at work. Call me when you’re off?” It was accompanied by a smiley and a blushing smiley emoji. You couldn’t help but smile, happy to hear from him after such a long day.

The phone rang maybe two times before Jeff picked up. “Hey!”

“Hi,” you responded with a smile, happy to hear his voice.

“How was your day at work?” Jeff chuckled when he heard your long sigh. “That bad?”

“Not bad, just tiring,” you responded.

“Tomorrow is your day off, right?” You hummed in response, looking forward to the time off. “Do you have plans tonight?”

“Sleep.”

“Do you mind putting sleep on hold? I have our first date ready here at my place if you're up for it.”

Any exhaustion you were feeling suddenly melted away. You were now feeling energized and excited.

“I’ll text you my address, get ready and come over, dress comfy.”

“O - Okay,” you stutter out. “See you then.”

You drove home and got ready as quickly as possible. You took a quick shower, partly drying your hair and putting it up in a bun. Jeff told you to dress comfy, but you decided to wear a pair of leggings that were comfy but also made your butt look good, and an oversized hoodie.

When you were sure you were ready, you drove to his apartment. You were so nervous you could barley sit still. The drive was just barley ten minutes but it felt like an hour long. The elevator ride up to his apartment felt even longer. By the time you finally reached his apartment, you were so nervous you felt like you were going to be sick. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves and knocked at the door.

The first good sign you had was the sound of a dog barking. When Jeff opened the door, a little French bulldog raced out and started sniffing you and jumping up on your legs. You were more than happy to greet him with some ear scratches.

“Damn, Nerf, I just met the girl face to face and you’re already stealing her from me?” Jeff questioned, taking hold of the dog and pulling him away from you.

You looked up at Jeff, almost feeling intimidated by his height. He stood an easy foot over you, and even through the t-shirt he was wearing you could see his muscles. While you definitely weren’t someone who judged people for their looks, you definitely weren’t upset over what you were seeing from Jeff.

“It’s nice to finally see you face to face,” he said, a wide smile on his face. You couldn’t help but smile back.

“It’s nice to finally see you, too,” you told him.

You weren’t sure if you should hug him, maybe just shake his hand, or just walk into the apartment and see what Jeff had planned for your first date. Luckily, he took initiative and pulled you into a warm hug. You melted in his arms almost immediately. It felt right being there, the next good sign.

He led you into his apartment. The lights were off, excited for some dim lighting coming from the living room. When you walked in you saw that he had a blanket fort set up with fairy lights strung across the top of it. Inside the fort, Jeff had a laptop set up and blankets and pillows set up over the floor.

“I figured, you’d be tired after a long day,” Jeff explained. “I thought a more relaxing first date would be a blanket fort and a movie. You’re welcome to stay over if you want, too. That’s totally up to you. If you fall asleep, I won’t wake you up.”

“This is so cute,” you told him. “I love it. What movie are we watching, though?”

“I don’t know. I thought I’d let you decide. Most of what I watch is super action-y or trashy comedy and I wasn’t sure if you liked either of those genres so you can pick.”

“I love trashy comedy,” you said. “Anything Adam Sandler I’m a sucker for.”

“Oh that’s fantastic. If you didn’t like trashy Adam Sandler I honestly don’t know if I’d be able to continue this relationship.”

You felt yourself blushing when he said “relationship”. You weren’t really sure what to consider the two of you. Whenever people asked, you told them you were “talking to someone”, but since you hadn’t gone on your first date you weren’t sure if this was considered a relationship or not. If Jeff was considering it one, that must mean it was then, right?

You crawled into the tent and Jeff followed. He picked a movie, you both decided on the first Grown Ups movie. As he settled back against the pillows, Jeff pulled you to him, letting you cuddle into him.

Everything felt so natural, like this wasn’t your first time meeting in person. Laying there next to him, cuddling into his side, watched the movie together while your eyelids started to grow heavy. It all felt so familiar instead of being something new. You figured the months of talking definitely helped to ease the nervousness and the tension that a first date usually brought, which you were definitely grateful for.

You felt yourself starting to nod off and jolted awake when you felt your head suddenly lull forward. Jeff’s chest vibrated under your ear as he chuckled.

“You want to go to bed?” he asked.

“No,” you lied, but you knew he didn’t believe you. “I can’t stay over, I would feel too bad.”

“Well I’m not letting you drive home when you’re mere seconds away from falling asleep,” he told you. “My couch is a pullout bed, you can sleep on that if you don’t feel comfortable in the blanket fort.”

“Oh no, I’m definitely sleeping in the fort. I haven’t slept in one in years,” you said.

He chuckled. “Yeah, me neither. I started thinking they were lame when I became a teenager, but honestly nothing is more cool than a blanket fort.”

“Blanket fort with homemade cookies,” you correct him. “That’s way cooler.”

“Ah man, I should’ve gotten cookies. That definitely would’ve sealed the deal, wouldn’t it?”

You nodded, looking at him very seriously. “Oh yeah. This whole date is a bust because no cookies.”

“Fuck,” he silently swore. “I really thought things were going well.”

You both laughed as you pushed yourself to sit up, facing Jeff. “But seriously, this whole night is amazing. This - ” you gesture to the fort. “ - this is amazing. This is honestly the sweetest thing a guy has ever done for me.”

Jeff propped himself up on his elbow. “It’s just a blanket fort. It’s pretty simplistic for a first date.”

“The fact that you went out of your way to work around our schedules for the date in general means a lot to me,” you admit. “I’ve talked to guys who find out I work nearly 12 hours six days a week and they almost immediately give up on me. My last serious relationship we broke up because he didn’t like that I took the intern job without telling him first.”

“That’s awful,” Jeff said. “Those guys obviously don’t deserve you, then. Which is fine, cause their loss is my gain.”

You felt yourself blushing again. You pulled your hoodie up around your face so he wouldn’t see. Jeff laughed and sat up. He took your hoodie down from your face and cupped your cheeks. Before you knew what was happened, Jeff pulled you forward and kissed you.

You were frozen at first, not sure what to do, but slowly you melted into the kiss. Even the first kiss, which usually was somewhat awkward, felt so right. When Jeff pulled away, you felt tingly and fuzzy on the inside.

“So, how many months do I have to wait for the second date?” Jeff asked.

You made a face like you were thinking before responding, “How about tomorrow morning? I’ll make breakfast.”

Jeff smiled. “That sounds perfect to me.”

#jeff wittek #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek x reader #the vlog squad #vlog #vlog squad #vlog squad imagine #imagine #one shot

312 notes · View notes

woniepop · 3 years

Note

Hi Kate!! 💞Can I get a romantic match up for ENHYPEN?

I'm an artistic person, an ambivert, and people tell me that I'm really nice

My hobbies and interests are drawing, fashion, and writing

I want a partner who feels like a best friend (like someone who would never judge me). As for personality, I want him to be funny with a kind heart and willing to make art with me :) I want him to be that person you just never get tired of being with yk?

For ideal dates, I'm more into quiet/chill dates where we can be alone. Like instead of going to a concert or the theater I'd rather go for a picnic in the park, movie night in, or a study date. One of my weaknesses is that I'm the type of person who keeps my feelings and problems private bc I don't wanna burden others. Also i can be highkey emotional sometimes lmao

Tysm for opening these matchups!!

i match you with —

— jungwon would be down to do anything with you honestly

— he loves that you’re so creative, and watching you draw or make art is something he loves. his probably aren’t going to be that good, but he loves to see you do something you enjoy, so he’s willing to endure your teasing

— for dates i think that jungwon would also be very into chill dates. he movie night ins where you guys watch trashy movies, eat 2838284 snacks and talk about random things while cuddling. he’s so into the idea of just being with you and doing anything with you. you could be talking about the most boring thing but he doesn’t care because he loves it

— he never wants to push you to talk to him but he always lets you know that if you’re stressed or there’s something wrong he will always be there for you. even if he can’t give you strong advice, he’d do whatever he could to help you

— he’d bring you water and would make sure you’re hydrated and would always keep a picture of you guys in his wallet just in case he misses you

runner up: kim sunoo

#dde0nu’s matchups

6 notes · View notes

imaginewithmgk · 4 years

Text

you know we’re meant to be

prompt; you know we’re meant to be

summary: colson confesses his love for y/n and it doesn’t go as planned

word count: 1,827

warnings: swearing

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Y/N,” Colson says as he drags my name out and stretches his large body over mine. I was lying comfortably on the couch until he sat down and decided to use me as his personal human pillow. “What do you want?” “I’m bored,” He groans. “Wanna help me get ready for my date tonight?” “You’ve got a date?” He sits up properly. “Yes? He’s really nice and so hot oh my god,” I put my hand on my forehead and pretend to faint. He smiles weakly. “Where’s he taking you?” “I think we’re going out to dinner at that nice Italian restaurant in the city and then we might do something after that, I’m not really sure.” “Noo! I wanted to take you to that restaurant.” Colson whines. “I know but sometimes I need to put my sex life over my best friend hun. A girl wants a girl wants.” “You could just incorporate your best friend into your sex life,” He winks. I slap him on the chest and chuckle at his stupid comment. “Shut up,” I laugh. “Help me choose what to wear?” “I guess,” He follows me into my bedroom. I lay out two dresses on my bed, jeans paired with a nice shirt and multiple accessories. “So I was thinking this dress,” I hold it up to show him as he sits on my desk chair. It’s a short cream coloured that fits snug, showing off my curves and has a deep v-neck. “This dress,” I hold up a deep red coloured dress that ends below my knees, it is also tight and has a v-neck but the straps are lace. “Or this shirt paired with my white jeans,” I hold up a light rose gold button-up shirt that is a satin material. “I think I’d have to see them on to properly judge,” He smirks. I shake my head but agree. “Turn around,” I giggle. “I’ve known you since we were born Y/N,” He rolls his eyes. “Still,” I pout. He huffs and puts his hands over his eyes and turns around. I quickly take my shirt and pants off before finding a suitable bra and putting the first dress on. “Okay, ready.” He opens his eyes. “Holy fucking shit,” Colson breathes out. “You look stunning Y/N,” “Thanks love,” I laugh. “I don’t think this is really the one though like he doesn’t seem like the sort of guy who would appreciat-” “I can't take it.” Colson blurted out. “Can't take what?” I ask after a few seconds of silence. “I love you.” “I love you too silly!” I giggle. “No. I love you,” He puts his head in his hands. “More than friends,” I stand there taken back, I never expected this from Colson. “You love me,” I repeat his words, mostly because I can't seem to comprehend what he said or maybe to make sure that's what he really said. “I love you. And not in a friendly way," He pauses. "Although I think we're great friends. And not in a misplaced affection, puppy-dog way," He pauses again. "Although I'm sure that's what you'll call it." I don't know what to say, I just look at him with an undoubtedly dishevelled appearance. "I love you. Very, very simple. Very truly. You're the epitome of every attribute and quality I've ever looked for in another person." He tells me, to which I still stay silent. "A-and I know you think of me as just your best friend and crossing that line is the furthest thing from an option you'd ever consider. But," He exhales. "I had to say it. I just- I can't take this anymore. I can't stand next to you without wanting to hold you, not like we normally do but in a romantic way where we can’t stand not holding each other. I can't look into your eyes without feeling that longing you only read about in trashy romance novels. I can't talk to you without wanting to express my love for everything you are." He exhales again. "And I know this will probably ruin our friendship but I had to say it, because I've never felt this way before, and I like who I am because of it." Silence. "And if bringing it to light means we can't hang out anymore, then that hurts me. That kills me actually. But I couldn't allow another day to go by without getting it out there, regardless of the outcome," He looks up to meet my eyes. "Which by the look on your face is to be the inevitable shoot-down. And I'll accept that but I know, I know! Some part of you is hesitating for a moment, and if there is a moment of hesitation, that means you feel something too. All I ask is that you not suppress that, at least for ten seconds try to dwell in it before you dismiss it." He puts his hand up to his forehead and rubs his temples. "Y/N… there isn't another soul on this fucking planet who has ever made me the person I am when I'm with you, and I would risk this friendship for the chance to take it to the next plateau. Because it's there between you and me. You can't deny that." He points his finger at me and stares into my eyes. "And even if we never speak again after tonight, please know that I'm forever changed because of who you are and what you've meant to me.” He finishes his speech and both of us just stand in silence, staring at each other. “No comment?” He chuckles, only Colson would joke in a time like this. “Here's my comment… fuck you.” I furrow my eyebrows at him. “Why!?” “That was so unfair. You know how unfair that was!” I yell. “It's unfair that I'm in love with you?” “No, it's unfortunate that you're in love with me. It's unfair that you felt the fucking need to unburden your soul about it. Do you remember for a fucking second who I am to you? Who we are to each other!?” “So? People change. You know we’re meant to be,” “Oh, it's that simple? You fall in love with me and want a romantic relationship, nothing changes for you with the exception of feeling hunky-dory all the time. But what about me Colson? It's not that simple, is it? I can't just get into a relationship with you without throwing my whole fucking world into upheaval!” “But that's every relationship! There's always going to be a period of adjustment.” “A period of adjustment? Go fuck yourself, Colson,” I pick up my shoes and a random bag before storming out of my room and slamming every door I can on the way out.

I make my way down the street, getting as far away as possible. I don't know whether to scream or cry but I do know that I can't be near him. I order an Uber to the restaurant I'm meant to be meeting my date at, I figure that I need the distraction and I also don't want to be rude and cancel this close to the meetup. "Y/N?" I hear a voice say, making me turn around. My eyes land on a very good looking man that just so happens to be my date. "H/N?" (his name, you choose) He nods. I walk over to him and give him a quick hug. "I knew you were beautiful but damn I didn't expect this, you look amazing!" He tells me. I grin. "Thank you, you don't look too bad yourself," He doesn't look bad at all, and he's much more polite than Colson. He grabs my hand and leads me into the restaurant where he placed a reservation under his name. The waiter guides us to a secluded table in the back and we sit down. "Can I get you anything to drink?" He asks. "Your best red wine please," H/N replies. I cringe internally, Colson and I never drink wine because honestly, we think it tastes like piss. "Just a vodka soda please," I smile. He nods and walks away. "So Y/N, how was your day?" "To be honest," I sigh. "I had a huge fight with my best friend right before I came here. I didn't really want to go out tonight but I didn't want to be rude and ditch you. You're making me feel better anyway," "I'm so sorry to hear that. Can I ask what it was about?" He's intrusive, not like Colson who usually takes my mind off why I'm upset rather than dwelling on it. "It's personal," I mutter. Why am I comparing him to Colson? "Oh," He replies harshly. "Anyway, how was your day?" "Good," He gave a boring answer, this guy is nothing like Colson. "Um I actually think this was a bad idea, I'm not going to be able to focus on you when I'm this upset. I think I'm just going to go, thank you for momentarily cheering me up though," I say as I begin to stand up. "Are you fucking serious?" He raises his voice. "You're such a bitch," Is he kidding me right now? I was going to at least pay for my drink but he can go fuck himself. I stomp away, not looking back. I order an uber back home and on the way, my mind won't stop racing. Why was I comparing every single thing he did to Colson or how he does it? Maybe I do feel something for him…

I stand in front of my front door contemplating whether or not I should really go inside, Colson is obviously going to be upset when he sees me. I mean, what have I got to lose? Only my best friend... I walk through the door and find Colson sitting on the couch with a blunt in his mouth. "You're back early," He says with a worn voice. He had obviously been crying. I sit next to him and take the blunt. "He was a dick," I reply quietly as I exhale. "I couldn't stop comparing him to you, and that's when I realised…" Tears begin to form in my eyes. "Realised what?" He looks over at me to make eye contact. "That I'm in love with you too," I breathe out. "You… the one least likely; I mean, you were my best friend, like a brother to me. And while I was falling for you, I put a ceiling on that, because you were my best friend. Until I remembered why I opened the door to love in the first place - to not limit the likelihood of finding that one person who'd complement me so completely. And so here we are, I was thorough when I looked for you, and I feel justified when I'm lying in your arms. I have no question that there was someplace I didn't look. And that makes all the difference. You're the one.”

i’m not sure how i feel about this tbh. i used some excerpts from a movie, chasing amy, because i love them so much and molded them to fit colson and y/n. i feel like i could’ve finished it better but anyway, i hope y’all like it :)

also stay safe, and remember to wash your hands!

tagged: @2dead2function @s-j-g-x @bakerkells @mayaslifeinabox @onlybadthingz @PumpkinQueenest19 @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @Feeding-into-darkness @xxkellsvixen19xx @lovemythsworld @xwhitewalkerx @deanwinchesterswife121 @jindongdongie @itjustkindahappenedreally @machine-gun-colson

link to be tagged in future posts

130 notes · View notes