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#McMahon!Reader
moondust-imagines · 1 year
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Champ (MJF x McMahon!Reader)
This is short but Max is chaaamp
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You were used to getting stares when you visited your boyfriend at work. Conversations quieted as you walked past and producers hid their notes from your eyes. All of them were convinced that you were there to spy on them, to take all the information you could back to your father. Of course, your father had asked you to 'see what you could find out ' once he found out about your relationship but you didn't want to jeopardize your time with Max.
None of that mattered tonight. Max had his title shot and had thrown his weight around a little to make sure you could watch from backstage, just behind the curtain. You stood glued to a small screen for the entire match with your heart in your throat. You had no idea if they trusted him enough to give him any belt, never mind the big one.
Then Regal slid him the brass knuckles.
Instantly, you started to tear up with pride. Watching him parade around with the title he had worked so hard to earn brought the biggest smile you ever had to your face. Your stomach started doing flips as he made his way up the ramp.
You stood back as he was congratulated by his peers, you hadn't even noticed FTR before they were slapping him on the back. Regal stood next to Max like a proud father, the storyteller in you couldn't wait to see what was going to happen there. Then his eyes met yours across the room and you stepped out of the shadows.
His arms were wrapped around you in a second, gripping you tighter than ever. The belt was still in his hand, knocking gently against your back. You didn't even care that he was covered in sweat, you just had one thing to say to him.
"You did it baby, you're the fucking champ"
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moondustimagines · 2 years
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Princess (MJF x Fem!McMahon!Reader)
Reader makes some new friends from across enemy lines
Warnings: Drinking
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You love your job, there is nothing else in the world you would rather do.If you could spend every second wrestling you would but, unfortunately, you couldn’t. There always seemed to be hundreds of things that all wanted your attention at once. Between the interviews, creative meetings and public appearances, you never really got a minute to yourself. It was exhausting.
Sometimes, if you were on early on a show, you could sneak away to a quiet corner of a bar. A VIP area if you could swing it. It would give you some time to yourself, without anyone expecting anything from you.
Tonight was one of those nights. Sometimes, being on the kickoff show had it’s benefits. You were tucked away in a quiet corner where, hopefully, no one would bother you. Your vodka lemonade was almost gone, you were too well hidden to get another without going to the bar. You got up and made your way over, the bartender must have remembered what you were drinking as he started pouring it as soon as he spotted you. As you waited, someone came to stand next to you.
“Hey” He said. You didn’t turn to face him, just muttered a hello back. 
“I’m getting the cold shoulder off you too? You guys really know how to freeze a guy out”
That made you look at him. Adam Cole grinned back at you, you should’ve known. You and Cole had become good friends during his time at NXT, you had been there all the time to work with your dad. You had been disappointed when he left but you understood why he did.
“Christ, Cole! I must not be used to your hair looking so dry” You teased. He chuckled and insisted on paying for your drink. You both caught up for awhile, about all the goings on at your respective workplaces.
“Come sit with us, the guys would love to see you” He said. That made you slightly nervous. You knew there was nothing wrong with it but there were certain people in your family and the company that would frown upon it. However, Cole had always been one hell of a negotiator.
There were already five people squeezed around the table, not including you and Cole. But Fish and O’Reilly practically jumped up to meet you so how could you leave now? You reintroduced yourself to Cash Wheeler and Dax Harwood, you had met them in passing a few years ago. Then you were introduced to the last member of this group, Maxwell. Better known as MJF. He seemed quiet, almost wary of you. You were somewhat used to that, especially guys who were still quite new to the industry, they could get intimidated by your name before even meeting you.
Max, knew exactly who you were from the second he spotted you at the bar with Cole. When you walked over with him was when he placed you on his mental list of reasons he should’ve just gone back to the hotel. He had let Dax talk him in to coming out for one drink. He kept repeating that “one drink” in his head as he nursed his fourth drink. The last thing he wanted to deal with was some spoiled little princess. He could be pretentious but god, no one did it like the McMahon’s in his experience.
But as the night went on, he discovered that he may have misjudged you. You were relatively normal, all things considered. You just wanted to wrestle and perfect your craft, just like him. The guys discovered there was a karaoke machine and quickly disappeared to show the whole place their skills, leaving him alone with you. 
“Do we run away from this embarrassment now or when they hit the high notes?” You laughed
“I would say now but I just got this drink” He replied. Both of you watched as Kyle tripped over a wire while doing what might be described as dancing.
Both of you watched with slightly amused embarrassment for another twenty minutes. Luckily, the other people in the bar didn’t seem to mind the antics too much.
“So, why are you out by yourself? Isn’t this a pay-per-view night for you guys?” Max asked. He watched your smile falter for a second as you thought of an excuse, you could hardly tell him that you were entirely sick of all the backstage drama.
“Got stuff on tomorrow morning, thought I’d go out early then go in early” You explained. He watched you for a second without saying a word.
“You’re a terrible liar”
“Well, why are you here? To sit here and sulk?” You questioned
“I’m not sulking” He replied, sulking more.
You didn’t even realise that you were sitting closer than ever to him, some might say too close. Maybe that last drink was one too many.
“I say you are” You whispered. His eyes darted to your lips for a split second, so fast you almost missed it. 
“Why don’t you cheer me up then?” He replied
You lips connected almost instantly. His hand cradled the back of your head as you deepened the kiss. He tasted like the expensive whiskey he had been downing all night. As you finally pulled away, you looked at him wide eyed. He almost mirrored your expression.
“I don’t think they’ll miss us” You said breathlessly
He grabbed your hand and all but dragged you out of the bar. He barely got you out of the door before you were all over him again. Your arms were looped around his neck to stop you from stumbling. 
“Do you want my room key?” You mumbled, grinning up at him. His hand went to grip your hip as he smiled back.
“I’m not going anywhere near those losers you work with. My room is more expensive anyway”
--
The next morning, you thought your head might explode. The first thing you noticed was that this room was far too bright for your liking. The second thing you noticed was ringing. You sat up and clumsily looked around for your phone to turn the damn alarm off. When you found it, you discovered it was a call. From your father.
You looked at the time, 10:24 am. Shit. You were supposed to be in a meeting 10 minutes ago. You scrambled out of the bed to get dressed, which made you notice a third thing. The man trying to sleep next to you. Max. He didn’t seem to happy to be woken.
“What the hell is your problem?” He muttered
“I’m so late. I need to go” You panicked, pulling your clothes on as fast as you could.
“Do it quietly then” He replied, throwing your panties at you. Part of you wanted to slap him, another part of you wanted to fall back into bed with him. Your phone started to ring again, you had to get going.
You made sure you had all your stuff and went to leave. Max shuffled around in the bed behind you, already fast asleep again. In that moment, your heart softened a little. You found a pen and a scrap of paper to scribble down your number before you rushed out of the room.
Later in the day, after a very long lecture from your parents about being late. You were sitting in yet another production meeting when your phone buzzed with a text. You secretly looked at the screen to see a message from an unknown number before your father kicked you under the table.
Unknown number: Until next time, Princess.
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angelwonie · 10 months
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LET ME IN || elijah hewson
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PAIRING: elijah x reader
WORD COUNT: 3.3k
GENRE(S): fluff, a bit of angst, friends to lovers, hurt comfort
SUMMARY: when your best friend turns up at your front door unannounced, you decide to find out why he's acting so strangely. what you don't expect is for some repressed feelings to bubble up to the surface.
WARNINGS: smoking, mentions of drinking + being drunk, kissing, eli has daddy issues oops
this is it y'all i've gone insane... he looked at me once and this is what happens. @boobyskeetz made me post this btw
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It’s far along in the evening when you come home to find Elijah Hewson sitting on your staircase with his head in his hands. 
He’s slumped over, leather jacket around his shoulders and a slowly burning, unattended cigarette in between the pointer and middle finger of his right hand. The sky is pitch black, the only source of light being an ancient lantern whose shine just barely reaches Elijah’s hair. 
You’re shocked at the sight, to say the least, the heaviness of your grocery bags suddenly a faint background noise. 
“Eli?” you move closer, albeit hesitantly, and your voice makes his head snap up.
When he looks at you, you fight back the urge to gasp. His eyes, half lidded, just barely glimmer in the faint light provided by the moon overhead, leaving room for his undereye bags to stand out. And they do stand out — so much that you almost don’t catch him stumbling over his feet ever so slightly as he walks over to where you’re standing. 
Almost. 
“Are you alright?” 
It’s not a question, not really, but he winces either way. You stand close enough to see it, but immediately, his lips pull into a lopsided grin to hide his initial reaction. 
“‘Course I am,” he takes a drag of his cigarette, and uses his other hand to take one of your grocery bags. “Just wanted to see you, that’s all.”
You nod, watching him drop the unfinished cigarette to the ground and step on it. You wonder how many he’s smoked today and consider asking, but decide against it upon realizing you probably don’t want to know. Instead, you let him take your grocery bags wordlessly, following him up the stairs. 
It’s a short staircase, but you’re walking slowly – too slowly for your liking – and there’s a million questions burning on your tongue. You hold them back, mostly because you’re tired, but also because something in Elijah’s eyes tells you not to push. 
He’s the one to speak first when you reach the right apartment. “Hey, your flowers are still alive.”
He’s referring to the roses he helped you pick out last month. It was a treat for yourself, for finishing all your assignments, and you had taken the whole ‘plant mom’ job pretty seriously, even putting the roses in a prettier vase and putting it on display outside of your apartment. 
“Yeah,” you chuckle. “They’re holding up really well.”
Elijah waits for you to unlock the door, then walks inside with you in tow. He wobbles a little as he drops down his shoes where he always puts them — where he’s put them ever since you told him three years ago it could be his spot. 
You watch him shoulder off his jacket and start organizing the groceries in the fridge from afar, slowly taking off your outerwear. It’s warm inside, and your skin feels like it’s about to be set on fire after being out in the cold for so long. You think of Elijah sitting on your doorstep. How long was he waiting for you? 
“Mind if I take a beer?” he cuts off your thoughts and you look up to find him with his hand on your fridge, an inquiring look on his face. 
Now the lighting’s better, and you can clearly see his face. The creases between his brows, the focus in his gaze, the stubble that he’s let grow just a little longer than usually. Whether that’s a deliberate choice or simple forgetfulness, you’re not sure, but it worries you. His state worries you. 
“Suit yourself.”
Maybe you should have said no, you think as he takes a sip of the drink and you’re reminded of the wobble in his walk. He’s probably had enough to drink already. To be fair, though, Elijah can be stubborn when he wants to, and something’s telling you today is one of those days. 
When everything is either in the fridge or in a cupboard, you and Eli wander into the living room, shoulder to shoulder, without much to say. It’s messy, and he scolds you playfully for it — like he’s not the guy whose dorm you have to clean each time you come over. 
You join his laughter though, and plop down on your couch a little more relaxed than before. 
“How long did you wait for me?” 
This time you manage to ask him the question, and he shrugs.
“A couple hours.”
He lifts the beer up to his lips and empties it, the can blocking out his view of you and your widened eyes. 
What the hell is going on? His gaze tells you nothing. It’s so indifferent it makes you want to rip your hair out, because no matter how much he wants to pretend spontaneously coming over at three am is normal, it’s not. Especially when it comes to him. 
Sure, if it were Robert, you would’ve figured it was just him acting on impulse, but it was never like that with Elijah. 
“You could have just called,” you say finally, a slight quiver to your voice. “You should have just called. You know that, right?”
He meets your gaze, but not for long; after a second it drops down to his lap, like he’s embarrassed. You hold your breath, awaiting an answer. His fingers drum against the side of the couch, but then he changes his mind about that, too, and brings his hand to scratch the side of his face. God, what is he even doing? Trying to see how long it’ll take for you to snap and throw him out of the apartment? 
Suddenly, he sighs deeply, dropping his hands in his lap. “Didn’t wanna bother you.”
You can’t help yourself from scoffing. That’s it? He ‘didn’t wanna bother you’? Maybe you would’ve believed it hadn’t he shown up unannounced at your front door in the middle of the night. 
You almost open your mouth to say just that, but stop yourself when Elijah looks up again, and his bloodshot eyes meet yours. Something’s definitely not right. You can physically feel it, the tightening of your chest, the anger somehow pushed to the back of your head. 
“Why are you here?” you ask him sternly, keeping your eyes on him. This time, he doesn’t look away. 
“Do you want me to leave?”
It comes out meek, frail, as he almost chokes on his own words. You’re taken aback by the shiver in his voice, the drop of his shoulders. He places the beer can on your table and you swear his hands shake — just barely, but enough for you to see and for your heart to clench in response. 
You shake your head. “No, I want to know why you’re here.”
He laughs humorlessly, leaning forward in his chair. His hands are definitely shaking, but you’re not sure whether it’s from the alcohol or something entirely different. 
You know this face on him — he’s bothered by something, but doesn’t want to admit it. He’s always been like this, ever since you met him at school and watched his eyes glow with the same sadness after his teachers told him he should work on his grades. It was the same look on his face, the same millions of feelings threatening to bubble over the surface. 
The only difference seems to be that now, he’s got no cap in his hands to close the bottle. 
“I’m just tired, that’s all. Wanted to talk to you ‘cause the lads are too much noise.”
You frown and send him a look of disdain. Perhaps this isn’t something you should push on him, but seeing as he just magically appeared at your apartment while drunk, you do have a right to at least inquire what the fuck is going on.  
“If you’re going to lie to me, you might as well leave.”
Silence follows your statement; silence so loud you almost regret saying anything at all. He grits his teeth, and you swear you can hear it from across the table — though that might just be your brain playing tricks on you this late in the evening. 
“It’s my dad,” he mutters finally, scratching his stubble. “Not that that’s much of a surprise.”
“What happened?” 
“Nothing new, really,” he exhales, closing his eyes briefly. “Just, you know, the usual ‘you’re wasting your life by not going to college’ talk. Total bullshit, as always. The only thing wasted is those twenty minutes of my life I spent listening to him talk about it.” 
You breathe out slowly, fighting against the urge to look away from his gaze. He keeps it on you, unwavering, but you don’t know what to say. It’s dangerous territory, one you haven’t ever entered fully, and the worry of hurting him pangs at your chest; the legitimacy of his vulnerability scares you and moves you all the same. 
You bite the inside of your cheek.
“He’s just worried, you know. I would be, too.” 
“Why?” his lip quivers and your heart sinks in your chest; so quickly it forces a sudden nausea upon you. “Because I’m not cut out for this?”
“No, Eli, that’s not what I–”
He cuts you off — not with his words, but with his hands gripping the arms of his chair to help him stand. It’s so abrupt your words die down in your throat, leaving a dryness behind. Hovering above you, he still looks small, like he’s fading into the light above; barely even present as Elijah but rather as some mass of feelings clumped together, ready to explode. 
“Do really none of you think I can make this work?” 
It’s the alcohol, you think, god, you shouldn’t have let him drink any more — how could you be so careless? But no, it’s not your carelessness or his, and you know that, even in this state of panic, it somehow reaches your mind — the revelation that this isn’t a random outburst. 
It’s the fruit of a tree that’s been growing for a long time; the ripeness isn’t fake, even if you’re unprepared to pick it.
“Do you really think that?” he asks this quietly, his voice barely audible, but it feels like he’s tearing your skull apart with a scream. 
Do you really think that? The very assumption, the very thought, disgusts you. The thought that you could ever believe he won’t make it — it’s so unnerving you let out a shaky breath. 
A movement of your legs from underneath you and you’re standing. Your feet tap against the floor as you walk up to him slowly, like approaching a scared deer. He is scared, you realize. Your fingertips tingle with the longing to run your hands over his face, but you hold them back, instead answering his question.
“No.” 
He blinks, and you say it again: “No,” and again and again, “No, no, no, no,” until it almost doesn’t feel like a word anymore and more like some sort of bandage wrapped around a bruised bone. 
“Your dad doesn’t think that, either. He’s just worried because he cares. Because he loves you.” 
He falls silent. “I’m not so sure.”
“About what?”
He doesn’t reply instantly. You look down on his hands, only to find that they’re still shaking, and take a couple steps forward. Elijah doesn’t notice, you think, or if he does, he doesn’t show any disdain for your closeness. 
“About love,” he says finally. “Isn’t love supporting someone unconditionally? Rooting for them, no matter what? That description doesn’t really fit my dad.” 
“I think you’ve got it all wrong.” 
You suppress the smile that threatens to form on your face when he sends you a confused look, his nose scrunched. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, you can support whoever you want without much difficulty,” you look at the floor, thinking of what to say next. “That doesn’t mean you love them. If you love someone, it means you’re willing to suffer through discomfort and pain to make them happy. You’re willing to spend your nights worrying if they’ve chosen the right path. You let them into your apartment at three am. That type of thing.” 
Thirty seconds pass before you finally look back up, internally shivering at the way his stare bores into your soul. 
“You…” he trails off, wincing like it’s painful. Uncharted territory, yet again — that much is obvious from how your heart bangs against your ribs. The silence in the room makes you worry if he might just be able to hear it.
You hear him inhale sharply, taking a step back so he can sit at the edge of your sofa. Following suit, you observe his eyes shining in the light, less red than before though still uncertain. His shoulder brushes against yours and you breathe in — he smells of alcohol, but it’s oddly comforting in the storm of your thoughts. 
Elijah’s head turns to you. 
“Have you… ever thought this is all for nothing? That I keep leaving the tour bus with more and more bruises for no reason at all?” 
Your fingertips tingle again, and this time you do nothing to stop them from brushing over the back of his hand. It’s stupid, probably, but it feels right, his skin against yours. He’s warm, really warm, but it doesn’t bother you in the slightest, even when he leisurely drags his forefinger down the side of your hand. It tingles, but you don’t move away. 
Elijah’s hand doesn’t shake anymore when you interlace your fingers together. Finally, you get the courage to speak. 
“I’ve held your hair back while you were throwing up, Eli. Tied your shoelaces after a tiring show. Corrected your lyrics until four at night so you could send them to your manager before dawn. I wouldn’t do any of that if I didn’t believe you were on your way to the top from the first time I saw you,” you take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before you look directly at him. “I wouldn’t do any of that if I didn’t believe in you.” 
It’s silent after that. For a long time. But his hand sits clammily in yours like a pearl in a clamshell, and you hold onto it for dear life, praying he won’t slip out from your grip. 
“Promise me you won’t stop.”
Your head turns, startled by the sudden statement. His gaze scans you from head to toe, lingering on the curve of your lips, then your nose and finally your eyes, where it stops and plants its roots. You feel it spreading almost like wildfire, the warmth that comes with it. You almost tremble underneath it, squeezing his hand a little harder. 
“Won’t stop what?” you whisper, eyes wide.
“Letting me into your apartment at three am.”
His gaze drops in a manner someone might’ve mistaken for lazy, but you know him well enough to recognize the vacillation in his eyes. You feel his fingers shiver in your embrace, every breath strained. 
“Why not?”
You move closer, only by a centimeter or so, but he senses it — all the cells in his body seem to tingle with the paradox of wanting to touch and wanting to run all the same. Maybe it’s the unexpectedness of it all, or maybe rather it’s the arbitrary comfort that comes with it, that scares him to death, but whatever reason, he feels like he’s entering a deadly storm. 
And perhaps it’s the alcohol and he’s not thinking straight, but this storm appears more inviting than any sunny day he’s ever witnessed. 
He squeezes your hand tighter and leans down until his lips are impossibly close to brushing against your nose. You feel his hot breath on your face, sparks dancing across your skin to the smell of cigarettes and whiskey and beer, his hand shaking ever so slightly. 
“Because I still haven’t gotten the chance to let you into mine.” 
You smile — a real smile that you no longer manage to hold back. He mirrors the expression, albeit softly, lines appearing in the corners of his mouth. Let me in. Hues of colors appear in his eyes just as his shaky pointer finger grazes your jaw. Let me in. He cups your cheek gently, his lips parting in a breathless exhale. 
Let me in, let me in, let me in.
He does. Just when the clock shows 3:47am and your shirt feels like it’s sticking to your skin, he finally closes the distance between you.
His lips brush over yours — it’s featherlight and careful, but you accept it all and kiss him back nonetheless. You can taste cigarettes on his tongue when he opens his mouth. Suddenly, the clock’s sound doesn’t reach your ears anymore, and all you can hear is the beating of your heart inside your throat. His finger strokes your cheek and his nose bumps into yours, but it’s fine. It’s more than fine. 
You breathe in the scent of him, bringing your hands to tangle themselves in his hair in a moment of recklessness. Yeah, you’ve definitely gone absolutely crazy — but that’s a problem to solve later. For now, you’re kissing Elijah Hewson.
You’re kissing Elijah Hewson. It’s almost a revelation that dawns upon you like the waves of a tsunami, knocking the breath out of your lungs. It squeezes at your heart, a drawstring closing around it, and you have to pull away to breathe, to examine his face, puffy lips and tired eyes, to understand the gravity of your situation.
“We just kissed,” you say, and your voice shakes even though you strain to keep it calm.
“Yes,” he affirms, like it’s nothing. But it is something, and his eyes can't hide that. “We did.”
“But you’re drunk.”
“You think that’s why I did it?”
“I don’t know.”
He smiles and you swear your heart almost leaps out of your chest. “You do.”
“I don’t.”
He looks at you for a moment – your messy hair, reddened lips, the hesitation in your gaze – and makes his decision. 
In less than a second, he drops down to his knees and you’re about to protest (because what does he think he’s doing?) until he grabs your hand and holds it between both of his. You furrow your eyebrows to hide the fact that you’re taken aback, though from the glint in Elijah’s eyes you figure you’re not doing a very good job at it. 
He looks at you, like really looks at you, and you look at him the same. The fruit lies in the palm of your hand and squeezes to the beat of your heart when he speaks. 
“I love you.” 
Your breath catches in your throat when he kisses your knuckles softly, and keeps them against his lips. “That’s why I kissed you, why I turned up to your apartment at three am, why I don’t regret it. Any of it. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Something pulls at the very back of your throat. You keep your mouth closed, but even that doesn’t stop a choked whimper from leaving you — a sound that makes Elijah’s lips quirk upwards. He smiles, and you attempt to do the same, yet all you manage is a half-laugh, half-sob that shakes though your body. 
Embarrassed, you look down, and you can hear Eli chuckle before the warmth of his arms envelops you whole. He hugs you tightly against his chest, fingers coming up to stroke your hair as you partly laugh, partly cry into his shirt. And even though it should be humiliating, the act feels so powerfully comforting that you let him hold you. 
“I love you too.”
You whisper this into his chest, breathing heavily. He pulls away and you look up, confused, but he smiles that gorgeous smile of his, with teeth on display and smile lines appearing, and cups your jaw. His eyes shimmer with undoubtable joy. 
He doesn’t have to say anything. You know.
“That’s a fucking relief, huh?” he whisper-laughs and you join in on it.
“Yeah.”
And you smile.
He’s let you in, and you don’t think you’ll be leaving any time soon. 
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sullenshrugs · 4 months
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it's cool outside. the wind's sweeping across your face but his presence alone warms you up. dark skies and soft brushes, a faint glow from his cigarette surrounding him in an aura. the sound of the wind and your breaths are the only sounds around. he holds it so delicately in his fingers, teasingly blowing the smoke into your face with a smirk. you scrunch your nose in response though you're not mad about it. you've grown accustomed to the smell. you're comforted by it. it reminds you of him.
he gently raises his hand, offering the cig to you. it's warmer than usual from the heat of his touch. you raise it to your lips and smile innocently before blowing the smoke at his face like he did with you. he laughs at the gesture, turning his head to the side. he wraps his arm around your shoulder, gently pulling you into him and placing a kiss on your temple. you nuzzle into the space between his neck and shoulder, breathing in the smell of his cologne. the night remains quiet, nothing but the hums and giggles from each other as you continue sharing the cigarette.
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sirenlulls · 6 months
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feels like ➞ e. hewson
pairing — elijah hewson x fem!reader (gracie abrams fc)
fic type — social media au
met you at the right time. this is what it feels like!
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♡ liked by gallagher_anais, izzyrichmond_, and 663,982 others
yourusername hello dublin!! i missed u angels sm 🫶 the last time i played a home show it was to a crowd of 200 at most & while i’ll always be grateful for those intimate shows and the family we built, i am so so so grateful and excited to play a sold out 3arena tomorrow with some very special guests ;) see you soon 💋
user SPECIAL GUESTS???? she’s definitely bringing inhaler out for a song or something
user no because didn’t she say on an ig live a few months ago that she helped eli write perfect storm…
user STOP ID CRY
joshjenkinson_ LFG!!!! 🤍🤍
user WHAT DO YOU KNOW JOSHUA.
evehewson beautiful beautiful girl 🫶
yourusername i love u to the moon and back by gorgeous eve ☹️💗
jordanjoyhewson ⭐️girl!! So excited for you x
user her friendship with eli’s sisters is so special to me
user im so excited i’ve been looking forward to this for months 😭😭
oliviarodrigo sososoooooooo proud of u baby 🥹
yourusername UGH!! my liv my life i love u too much
user you’ve grown so much in the past year im inconsolable
bobbyskeetz they were lovely leaves
yourusername getting the snow angel practice in early x
ynhq getting our bows ready!!
elijahhewson you betrayed me with that picture 💔
yourusername the job of a girlfriend is to humble, i’m sorry babe xx
phoebebridgers 🖤🖤🖤
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ryanmcmahon_15 just updated their story!
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♡ liked by jojolovedog, lizzymcalpine, and 721,798 others
yourusername thank u thank u thank u all for giving me the perfect end to an already perfect tour… speaking of perfect things…. thank u to my angels inhalerdublin for joining me onstage for an encore. i love u guys so much & performing with u was a gift in and of itself 🫶 i’ll miss performing live but i’m so happy to be able to settle down for a while with those close to me. i love u all so so so much. thank u for supporting me 💗💗💗
user do you understand how many lives were impacted by this show.
user this is my boobgenius
reneerapp born to serve 💋
inhalerdublin thanks for having us 🫶❤️
yourusername i was looking at josh when he typed this guys just fyi
ryanmcmahon_15 i, too, ❤️ inhaler!
nieveella stunning beautiful yummy delectable talented showstopping amazing gorgeous perfect (storm)!!!!!!!
yourusername love u sm ☹️💋
user my roman empire
katiegavs can i get a kiss… pls
yourusername anything for u 💋💋
user post concert depression has already started to kick in
user u and eli sharing a mic for the perfect storm chorus had me 🥹🥹🥹🥹 IM UNWELL
stellajones IT GIRLLLLLL
gallagher_anais don’t mind me, just sobbing in my little corner 🥺🫶💗
yourusername ani babyyyyy i love u sm ☹️☹️
yourusername updated their story!
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♡ liked by lilamoss, joshjenkinson_, and 699,810 others
yourusername a special thank u to this loser who means the world 2 me. don’t know why u decided to eat that paper but… i still love u forever and ever and ever and ever and… ever!!!
user omg the last pic in dying did they grow up together???
yourusername we went to the same playschool!! went to different primary & secondaries tho 💔
user THATS SO CUTE WTF
elijahhewson you love posting bad pics of me
yourusername you’re a leo you’ll be fine
elijahhewson love you and proud of you always 🤍
yourusername ILY BITCHHHHHHH
bobbyskeetz poor lad was starving
maisiehpeters so cute 🥹❤️‍🩹🎀
evehewson My faves ❤️❤️❤️❤️
user my alex turner & alexa chung fr
chappellroan IM CRYINGGGG YOU GUYS ARE THE CUTEST EVER
laufey 🥺🥺🥺💞💞💞
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voguesriot · 1 month
Text
MASTERLIST & WHO I WRITE FOR…
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🔱 i didn’t want to be a halfblood… percy jackson & the olympians
i write for: luke , clarisse , book!percy , book!annabeth , grover , leo , the stroll brothers
SUNBURN ✶ luke castellan social media au
DON’T HURT YOURSELF ✶ luke castellan social media au
NOBODY’S BUSINESS ✶ part two of ‘don’t hurt yourself’, luke castellan social media au
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🏴‍☠️ i will be king of the pirates! one piece
i write for: sanji , zoro , luffy , nami , shanks
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🕸️ i am the one and only spider-man… spiderverse
i write for: any peter parker variant , miles morales , miguel o’hara , spidergwen
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🍷 always check the sleeves! saltburn
i write for: felix , oliver , farleigh , venetia
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🎧 no band like the strokes… inhaler
i write for: ryan , josh , elijah , bobby
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🎞️ sorry if i forgot to thank anyone, unless you were mean to me, bye! celebrities
i write for: timothée chalamet , jacob elordi , charlie bushnell , dior goodjohn , alex turner , archie madekwe , harry styles , reneé rapp , gene gallagher , aaron taylor johnson
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🏎️ it’s just an inchident… formula one
i write for: charles , max , carlos , oscar , logan , lando , daniel , mick , jenson
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killersfool · 5 months
Note
hii! not sure if you’re open to requests but i’m going to give u a few ideas! most of these are for elijah hewson😭
falling asleep on the couch, waking up to not only a blanket around them, but eli squeezed in behind them
being in the studio with the band and messing about?? making jokes and being silly!
kissing and dancing in the kitchen to an old singe they both like?
eli taking care of you when you’re sick and just being super soft and caring!
spending valentine’s day together!
something about the reader playing with eli’s fingers to calm them down?
softly smiling at each other from across the room and also reassuring touches!
telling each other how much they love them
them cuddling in bed and pulling eachother closer
hope these spark your writing :))))
Kiss It Better | ELIJAH HEWSON
here's a short little thing inspired by this request!
PAIRING: elijah hewson x f!reader
WORDS: 1.5k
SUMMARY: eli's girlfriend is ill, elijah comforts her.
GENRE: hurt/comfort, fluff
WARNINGS: references to throwing up
I've never been so ill in my life. My nose is so runny. I've almost used every single packet of tissues in the kitchen cabinet right under the sink — which used to be a lot and now is very little. I've thrown up my insides into the loo way too many times to count on my fingers. Bent over the toilet, eyes pricking with tears, I've never felt so useless. At least the thought of my boyfriend getting back after his gig gives me something to look forward to. But it's far too late.
I'm staring at the TV screen. I hug my knees to my chest, attempting to generate some warmth. The blanket is upstairs — probably hiding in the space between the bed and the wall. Surely, if I attempt to stumble upstairs now, I'll just get stuck and end up falling asleep in the corridor.
I can't stop glancing at the door. I'm hoping for a doorknob twist, knock, ring of the doorbell, stamp of boots, low and raspy post-concert voice. But I'm just met with nothing. No signs of his arrival. He hasn't called me. He usually doesn't. He likes to surprise me. After having the worst migraine of my life, it would give me some comfort if he just gave me a hug. A warm Elijah Hewson hug would cleanse my mind.
Starting to realise that the TV is doing more harm than good, I switch it off. I'm beginning to see blurry triangular shapes and my eyes burn like they're on fire. The living room is pitch black. I'm freezing. I'm tired. I take two paracetamol tablets and chug some water. Curling up on my side, legs on the armrest, I close my eyes.
-
I wake up. Sunlight gleams through the gaps in the white curtains. My body is wrapped in a duvet, soft and warm. Skin is against mine. Arms are around my body, squeezing me tightly. He's shirtless. I can tell by the tufts of chest hair flicking at my shoulder. His head is on my back, curls all over my skin, lips between my shoulderblades. I don't want to move. I don't want to speak. He's asleep. Gentle snores, deep breaths, in and out.
I must've fallen into a deep sleep because I have no recollection of his arrival or him ever taking me upstairs. I'm usually a light sleeper. This migraine fully knocked me out. That's the best nights sleep I've had in a while. I'm especially thankful I managed to escape from work for the rest of the week.
Elijah's normally the little spoon when we hug like this. It's funny how the tables have turned. I think I prefer this though. But lying awake and tracing the muscles in his back always seems to calm me down.
I want to ask him how the show went and the reason for his tardiness. He had been playing in Glasgow, thankfully only a few miles away from me and had bought me tissues, chocolate and gave me an endless supply of kisses before he had to run down to meet the band.
Opening my eyes fully, I take a peek over at the bedside table. He's brought me more tissues, face masks, more chocolate and a box of sleep teabags.
I realise Elijah's awake when his fingers start to walk along my bare stomach and his mouth is at the juncture between my back and shoulder. He pulls my hair to the side, presses his wet mouth to my neck. He smells clean. I'm sure he's showered. His hair feels a little damp.
He keeps pulling me closer. Arms tightening like he's a boa constrictor. Cool rings on my stomach, large hands tugging at the waistband of my shorts.
"You feeling better?" He asks, between kisses, tongue tracing my jugular vein. It's unsettlingly nice. His words are always gruff the morning after the show. All the singing takes a toll. Makes him sound more mellow. Sometimes I worry for his vocal cords.
"Not really." I groan. A mind-numbing headache is still prodding at my brain and the brightness of the sun makes my eyes burn. He's got a hand on my forehead, cool fingers against fiery skin — checking the temperature.
"God, you're pale. And you're burning up. I should get the thermometer." He gets out of bed. The loss of weight of his body makes the mattress shift. I glance over at him. His hair has stuck up at the top, his bare back glows under the sunlight. He stands up. Sweatpants cling loosely to his hips, revealing the muscles of his abdomen and a chain circles around his neck. He leaves the room — not even giving me time to utter a word of annoyance at the sudden lack of touch.
Then he's back. He crawls into bed. The thermometer is between his index finger and thumb. I look at the cross tattoo on his palm, see the concentration on his face as he plays around with the buttons.
"It's just a migraine," I say but he's already turning it on and pointing at my mouth. I roll my eyes and separate my lips. He gives me a sly smirk, just making me sit like that for a moment. Then he puts the device beneath my tongue and waits patiently. I'm trying not to laugh at how awkward this is. I close my eyes to evade his gaze but I can still feel the force of his stare.
"You've got a fever." Dr Hewson alerts me with his expert diagnosis although the furrow of his brows makes him seem unsure. He looks down at the numbers displayed, rubbing his face with worry. "A really bad one." He's now searching up on his phone what it means.
"Should I go to the doctors?" I shuffle away from him. I don't want him to catch what I have. He has gigs all week, I don't want to ruin anything for him.
He notices my movement. Shaking his head, he drags me back towards him, making me nestle into his chest. His eyes are still darting along a website.
"I think you just need to rest. I'll make you breakfast." Elijah kisses my nose before running downstairs with his mind set solely on making some decent food.
Through the corridor, into the kitchen. He's forgotten where half the things are in the room. Opening cabinets, searching through the fridge, putting water into the kettle. Most of the time he'll get his breakfast on the way to a show. Maybe a café, maybe he'll steal some food from Ryan. Today, however, he's lucky enough to not have a gig and actually have time to look after his girlfriend. Although he's definitely going to make a mess of the place.
His final decision is to make omelettes. Oil on the frying pan, ham—leaving it to heat up until it's a little crispy. Two eggs, cracked and swirled in a glass. Cheese on top, grated with masterful excellence—at least that's what he believes. Folds it over to make it fill half of the pan. Let's it continue to fry. Then he's running over to make a cup of tea. He uses one of the sleep teabags he bought. He's just about to plate up when footsteps echo behind him.
I have to stop for a second when I walk into the kitchen. It's a rarity to see Elijah here, cooking for me. We started dating at the beginning of the tour which unluckily means that he's hardly ever home. He has to leave early in the morning and gets back really late. Whenever he has days off, he takes me on dates and walks, or we just laze around at home, basking in eachother's presence. There's times when he brings me along to the recording studio so that I can reprimand all the band members or give an outside opinion of their new songs.
Elijah seems so focused on getting this omelette perfect. He's running around the place. He grabs two pieces of bread to turn his dish into an omelette-sandwich. I stand in the doorway for a while, just watching him. But, I can't stop myself from nearing him. As he cuts an apple into a slices, I slide my arms around his stomach, pressing my head to his shoulder. He sighs quietly. I breathe in his scent, his comfort.
"You should be in bed," he whispers, although he doesn't seem to want me to let go. I shake my head as he looks at me.
There's music playing on the radio. I turn it up. It's a song by The Smiths. I'm swaying to the beat, moving Elijah along with me. He's still carefully chopping fruit into perfect pieces. Watermelon, strawberries, mango. My mouth is watering just looking at the vast array of flavours.
Elijah drops his knife, turns around to face me. His hands find my waist, his lips find my neck, his head burrows into my chest like he's a mole hiding under soil. We dance along to the crackle of music, feeling the melodies trickle into our bones. Just his presence makes me feel better, every kiss turns my negative thoughts to mush.
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purfectstormzz · 5 months
Text
I wanna be yours | Elijah Hewson x reader
Summary: In which Elijah Hewson finds himself falling in love with the sister of a famous singer.
Pairing: Elijah Hewson x fem!Turner!reader
Warnings: Badly written story. (sorry guys)
A/n: the reader is about 24 so she’s way younger than Alex (hard truth; she wasn’t planned)
Masterlist
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It wasn’t a secret that the Turner siblings had a big age gap. At 13 years old, Alex was blessed with the birth of his baby sister. At first he wasn’t thrilled but when his sister finally arrived he was more than happy. He couldn’t deny the fact that he loved her more than anything, he promised his mother that he would protect and take care of her for the rest of his life. And he did, Alex made sure that every guy that came into her life treated her right and if they didn’t they were in a lot of trouble. At 16 years old Alex started a band with his friends and 3 year old Y/n was his biggest fan. She was at all the band meetings, the repetitions and even at their first gig.
Throughout the years Y/n grew up and became more interested in boys. Whenever Y/n came home with a boyfriend or just a boy in general, Alex made sure that he was a good guy and if they weren’t he made sure that they were too scared to even come back.
Y/n became older and Alex’s band became famous. Y/n loved being at their concerts and made sure to tell everyone how awesome her brother was. When she was 17 she discovered her passion for playing guitar. With a little help of her brother, she became talented in playing the guitar.
Now a 24 year old Y/n and a 37 year old Alex were closer than ever before. The Arctic Monkeys were extremely successful and Y/n couldn’t be more proud of her older brother. Y/n started her own music school for kids and teens who want to learn and play guitar just like her. But her full time job was supporting her brother at his concerts. Y/n tried her best to be at all of the concerts and she made sure to show everyone how proud she was.
“So have you guys found a new opener for your shows yet?” Y/n asked her brother while pouring herself a drink in his dressing room. “Matt found this new band who want to open up for us.” Alex answered getting of the sofa to get ready for the show. “Oh and have you met them yet?” the younger Turner asked. “I haven’t but Matt has and he said that they’re good so guess I have to believe him.” Alex answered walking towards his closet and pulling his suit out. “Alright sis I need to get dressed so I’ll see you after the show.” He said giving his sister a kiss on her forehead. “Alright, good luck.” She said before walking out of his dressing room.
Y/n made her way trough the corridors to get to her spot for the concert, she looked around the big hallways and couldn’t deny that she was lost. She didn’t know where she was supposed to go. She turned around a corner and walked further along the hallway. After walking for what felt like half an hour, Y/n finally saw someone who might know the way to the concert hall. “Hey sir can I ask you something.” She called out to the man in front of her. The guy turned around and y/n was met with the prettiest guy she had ever seen. “Sure.” He answered looking at the girl. His brown eyes looked directly into hers. “Do you maybe know where the private upper levels are?” She asked nervously. The boy gave her a smile before saying. “Sure, I’ll lead you the way.” The pair walked trough the hallways. “So, what’s your name.” The boy asked trying to make the walk less akward. “I’m y/n.” She told him. The pair turned a corner and walked further along. “What’s your name?” Y/n asked the brunette in front of her. “I’m Elijah but you can call me Eli.” He answered. “What brings you here Eli?” The girl asked. “I’m part of the band that’s opening for the band.” Eli said. “Oh that’s awesome. What instrument do you play?” Y/n asked. “I’m the lead singer but I also play the guitar.” The boy answered. The pair chatted a bit longer before they finally arrived at the upper levels.
“So here it is.” Eli said giving y/n a smile. “I have to get back to the dressing room because we have to be on stage in 10 minutes.” He said giving her one last smile before turning to walk out of the door. “It was nice meeting you Eli.” Y/n smiled after him. “I hope I’ll see you again Y/n” the brunette said before walking away into the hallway.
Y/n took a seat in one of the chairs sitting next to Amanda, Matt’s wife. The both of them talked for a few minutes until the lights went out. Four boys walked onto the stage and y/n saw Elijah walking up to his microphone. The band started the show by playing ‘These are the days’. Y/n sat in her chair admiring the boy that she just met. The crowd loved the band and the younger Turner couldn’t help but smile looking at the boy.
The band ended their set by playing ‘My honest face’ and then disappeared behind the curtains. Y/n sat in her chair waiting for her brother’s band to come on stage. She couldn’t stop thinking about Eli and how good he was on the stage. The girl was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the door to the upper levels open. “Hey, is this seat taken?” She heard a familiar voice say. Y/n looked up and saw Elijah standing there giving the girl a sweet smile. “No, no you can sit there.” She told him smiling at the boy. “So we meet again.” Eli laughed. The pair talked about the band’s performance and about how Inhaler got to open for the Arctic Monkeys.
Alex and the rest of the band appeared on the stage and the crowd went wild. Elijah still didn’t know that he was sitting next to the sister of The Alex Turner. The band started playing their songs and Y/n and Eli sang along together. The both of them enjoyed the show a lot.
After the show ended Y/n and Eli walked out of the upper levels. They turned a hallway before Eli asked her. “Could I maybe get your number?” Y/n turned around looking at the boy. “I know that we just met but I think you’re really nice and I really want to know you better.” Eli said looking the girl into her eyes. “Oh yeah sure.” She said before giving the boy her phone to type his number. Y/n and Elijah exchanged numbers. “I’ll call you when I get to my hotel room.” The boy smiled. Y/n couldn’t help but admire how cute his smile was, she got butterflies in her stomach every time the boy smiled.
Y/n and Eli parted ways. He walked towards his dressing room getting ready to go to his hotel room while she walked towards her brother’s dressing room.
Alex stood in his dressing room waiting for his sister. He was ready to go to their hotel but just had to wait for his sister. Y/n walked through the door giving her brother a smile. “You guys were amazing.” She smiled. “Thanks sis, let’s go to the hotel now.” Alex said giving his sister a tired smile.
The siblings arrived at their hotel and y/n went into her hotel room while Alex walked towards his. “Goodnight Alexander.” Y/n said knowing how much he hates it when people say his full name. “Goodnight kiddo.” He said back before walking into his room and shutting the door behind him.
Y/n sat on her hotel bed looking at her phone. She was waiting on the call from Eli. After waiting for a while, Eli finally called her. She picked up the phone and heard his tired voice through the phone. “Hey.” Eli said, you could hear the smile in his voice. “Hey, did you get to you hotel oké?” Y/n asked him. “Yeah we got here pretty easy. A few crazy fans but nothing we haven’t handled before.” He laughed. The pair talked for another hour before Eli asked. “Do you want to go do something?” Y/n was speechless. She couldn’t think anymore, was he really asking her out?? “Of course I want to go do something with you.” She finally answered after staying quit for a bit.
Eli and Y/n made plans to go to a café tomorrow afternoon before both of them went to bed. Both of them fell asleep with the biggest smile on their face. They couldn’t wait for it to be the next day…
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uvobreakmylegs · 8 months
Text
When Push Comes to Shove
first Shoot fic :D
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Warnings: stalking, depictions of violence, kidnapping
Word count: 4.9k
The apartment was largely empty; the walls were bare and the only pieces of furniture within the unit were a small table, a chair and a sleeping bag that stayed out in the living room area as opposed to the bedroom. The only other pieces of miscellaneous objects was the phone that was currently plugged into a charger, a bag and a small pile of laundry that had yet to be washed. Other than those things, there was little else in the apartment unit.
Aside from Shoot himself.
Currently he was standing near the window that looked over a parking lot and a different apartment building across the way, peering through the glass as he watched his current target.
….. Using the word target didn't feel quite right in this situation. Even if it was accurate. Even if the person he was watching was one that he'd been watching for months now.
No, 'watching' wasn't the correct term; what he was doing was stalking.
But it was different, he told himself.
After all, Shoot didn't mean you any harm. He just wanted you to be with him.
But actually going through and making that desire a reality was where he was slipping up.
In his role of a Beast Hunter, Shoot had faced down hordes of charging animals and encountered all sorts of shady characters in the most hostile of environments, but somehow the thought of taking you, a defenseless civilian, felt like the more difficult task. As usual, his cowardice would show its face at the worst possible time.
He sighed to himself, and then looked back again to a particular window in the apartment building across from his.
You were in the same place: on the couch in your living room with your laptop, your eyes focused on the screen and your mouth set in a slight frown.
No doubt you were looking through available job listings.
The company you had worked at previously had downsized, causing a fair amount of employees to be laid off. Unfortunately, you were among those that were deemed to be expendable.
All that had happened a few months prior, and you had since gotten a temporary job. It wasn't one that you liked, however, and you had told everyone around you that it was just something to keep yourself afloat until you found something better. Except the 'something better' that you were looking for had yet to reveal itself to you, so you'd been scouring job sites and putting in your resume where you could, though it wasn't going as well as you'd hoped. You were still stuck with a job you didn't like, and came back home after every shift exhausted and stressed.
Shoot had been keeping an eye on you since you'd gotten back today, and some time had now passed since you first opened up your laptop in search of a job better suited to you. Though it seemed as if you were finishing up with the job search tonight, as he watched while you sighed to yourself and then shut the laptop closed, stretching your arms out over your head after. It was confirmed to him when you pulled out your phone and began scrolling through it aimlessly.
No luck tonight, but you'd try again tomorrow. That was most likely your line of thinking.
He hoped you'd eat something soon, though. Since getting back, you all you had done was take a shower and then immediately after went on the job search, and the only thing he'd seen you consume during that time was a single glass of water.
You needed to take better care of yourself.
But as much as he wished he could head over to your unit and remind you to eat something, all that would result in was you becoming afraid of him when you realized that he had been watching you. Plus some possible issues with law enforcement if you were to go to the police. Though with his Hunter license on hand, they wouldn't be able to do much of anything even if they did manage to come across him. But it would no doubt cause you stress.
That worry about your well-being was also why he was in this current predicament:
As much as Shoot wanted you, he worried about how well you would take it if he went through with kidnapping you. No matter what, your mental state would suffer and you would definitely hate him in the beginning.
Shoot sighed again, chiding himself internally. There had been a time when needing to take you wouldn't have been necessary, when he could've possibly approached you and started up a relationship in a 'normal' way. But every time he had tried, he always ended up psyching himself out and running off before you could even lay eyes on him.
And every time after, as he berated himself while staring at you from the apartment he rented for the sole purpose of keeping an eye on you, he told himself that he could try again next time, and that he'd be successful then. That he had as much time as he needed to accomplish that.
What a stupid thought.
He should've known better. Not just as a Hunter, but as someone with common sense. He should've known that he couldn't have expected that things would always stay the same with you, that you would magically stay single until he finally built up the nerve to speak to you.
Shoot noticed when the screen of your phone suddenly lit up as you received a phone call, and after reading the name on the screen, you smiled to yourself.
Based on that reaction, Shoot already had an idea as to who was calling, and his suspicions were confirmed when you answered the phone and he read your lips as you greeted the caller with a 'hey babe'.
The only person you would speak to like that was Kian.
Your boyfriend.
The two of you had only been going out for over a month now, but it seemed to be going well for you. And despite the short amount of time together, you always seemed so happy whenever you spoke to him after a difficult day.
Just like now, when he saw you smiling at something Kian had said and observed the way the tension left your shoulders. Just because of a few words from him.
…..
… Ah, damn.
Shoot realized that he was grinding his teeth again. It was a bad habit that he'd begun only recently, coinciding with when you started dating Kian. Just knowing that another man was spending time with you like that frustrated Shoot more than he thought possible.
It was even worse to see another man touching you.
Though that was his own fault, he reminded himself. For never getting up the courage to approach you and telling himself that it was fine to continue hanging back and watching you from afar. That cowardice of his had cost him his opportunity, and now he was forced to watch you go on dates and being affectionate with your boyfriend.
Despite that, Shoot couldn't bring himself to do anything to your boyfriend. Not only because he truly didn't enjoy hurting others, but he was aware that Kian hadn't done anything wrong. Even if he frustrated Shoot just by the way he spoke to you, you had chosen him, so it was natural that he would be loving towards you and that you would respond in kind.
Shoot simply disagreed with your choice.
You were still on the phone with Kian, and Shoot could tell most of what you were saying by reading your lip movements, though you occasionally made it difficult whenever you turned your head away from the direction of the window. The topic was your job search and how you still hadn't heard anything from any of the places you'd applied to.
After you said that, your expression fell slightly, and your demeanor was more in line with what he'd seen when you were on those job sites earlier. But that changed when your boyfriend said something to you, and there was a smile on your face once more. It looked like you were agreeing with him.
I sent in an application to Motoba, too. Maybe they'll like my resume.
That was the last thing he could decipher before you changed the topic away from the job hunt and instead asked your boyfriend how his day had been. After that, you were mostly quiet, only piping in occasionally with some comment to whatever your boyfriend was saying.
All Shoot could hope for was that this wouldn't be a call that lasted hours again. It wasn't terribly late, but you had a tendency to talk for a long time with Kian. And you still hadn't eaten.
Tell him that you need to hang up, Shoot silently urged you. That you need to do the bare minimum in taking care of yourself. If he really cares about you, he'll respect that.
All you did was reach for the glass of water you'd gotten for yourself earlier and drink what little was still left in it.
And the phone call was still ongoing.
Shoot sighed.
Once again, all he could do was watch. Watch and wait until you were done talking with him, and then hope that you'd get some dinner before you eventually went to bed. At least you could get a decent rest tonight, he thought to himself. Your job had scheduled you to work in the early afternoon tomorrow, so you could sleep in if you needed to.
That would likely be the only highlight, however. After that, it would be another day where you worked hard at a job you hated before returning home to continue your unsuccessful search for one that would be better for you. All because Shoot couldn't bring himself to follow through.
Because every time he felt like he could go to you and catch you off-guard, a voice in his head would give him some reason as to why he shouldn't.
Breaking in would make too much noise and leave too much damage.
You would fight him and he'd need to use more force than he wanted.
There were too many bystanders in the area that would either act as would-be rescuers or potential witnesses to your kidnapping.
Every time, lines of reasoning like that would pop into his head, and his cowardice would reappear as he once again did nothing to put an end to the limbo he'd created for himself.
And that was the case now, it seemed.
It was unlikely that anything more would happen tonight. Once again he was disappointed in himself for having squandered another chance to take you, but he countered that by telling himself that it would be fine; he'd follow through once he worked himself up to it.
….. Wasn't that mentality the reason he was in this predicament in the first place?
He found that he wanted to assure himself that it'd be different tomorrow, that he would finally follow through and make his desire to have you for himself a reality.
Unfortunately, that was also something he'd said to himself far too often.
Shoot glanced over to you again, just in time to see that you were now speaking, and he read the words on your lips again.
Yeah, that sounds great! I work later tomorrow, anyway.
Shoot's brows furrowed.
What had you just agreed to?
You stood up and turned around as you ended the call, inadvertently keeping Shoot from being able to tell what you said to your boyfriend before hanging up. Then you walked away from the window, heading towards your bedroom.
A pit formed in Shoot's stomach; it felt like something was going to happen that he wouldn't like.
When you walked back into view, you were carrying a small backpack, finishing up in stuffing extra clothes inside before tossing the backpack onto the couch and collecting your shoes from the other side of the room.
You were going over to spend the night with him, Shoot realized.
All the signs were pointing to that, and he felt his teeth grinding again.
….. No.
He wasn't going to let that happen.
But what could he do to stop you? Your boyfriend was expecting you and he would quickly notice that you were missing when you didn't show up at his place if Shoot chose to take you then. At the very least the Hunter wanted a few hours head start before anyone realized you were gone. That couldn't be accomplished at the moment.
It likely wouldn't be questioned it if you canceled on those plans, though. But the only way Shoot could see that happening was if he grabbed you on your way out and forced you to call up your boyfriend to tell him that you weren't going over. That would probably require threatening you, something Shoot didn't think he could do even if he didn't mean it. And it still ran the risk of you blurting out something over the phone and thereby making his efforts pointless.
No, the safest way would be if you canceled on your own.
But was there any way he could get you to do that?
Not sure of what to do, Shoot looked about his own unit, if there was possibly anything in there that could help him. That was when he caught sight of his phone, still plugged in and fully charged, and a thought struck him.
It was a bit late, but not so late that it would be outrageous if you were to get a call from one of the companies you applied to. Even if it was still odd, you were probably desperate enough to not question it.
And the name you had mentioned during your call... It was Motoba, wasn't it?
Taking in a deep breath after retrieving his phone, Shoot typed in the number to call your cellphone, a number he had learned and memorized a while ago but never had any reason to use. He then put the phone up to his ear, and listened as the line began to ring.
So much time spent watching you, but it was only now, when he felt that his back was up against the wall that he'd managed to make himself go forward with something.
Not the best tendency to have, but at least it was some assurance for himself: when push came to shove, Shoot could do what needed to be done.
He moved towards the window again, peeking out of it to see if he might see you again. Sadly, there was no sign of you in the window of your apartment, but after the phone rang twice, he heard you pick up.
“Hello?”
Your voice came through the phone's speaker, and Shoot felt as though his heart was fluttering at the sound. Realization hit him that this was the first time the two of you would exchange words.
Trying to keep his tone level, he addressed you by your first and last name as he asked if that was who he was speaking to. He needed to do his best to keep from messing this up.
“Who is this?” you asked.
The next attempt at speaking to you failed, and he needed to clear his throat again before he could get the words out. There was a time where he'd needed to impersonate a company worker and convince the manager in charge of an oil rig to allow Morel and Knuckle access when the management on said rig had refused to be accommodating towards the Hunters. As long as he put himself in the same mindset that he had for that job, he could pull this off too.
“I work for Motoba,” Shoot began, “I'm calling about the application you sent in.”
“Oh!”
There was more of a cheerful tone to your voice now, and he heard you walking about the apartment as you spoke again. He still didn't see you – you must've been in your bedroom.
“For the assistant position?” you asked.
“Yes, the position you applied for.”
Shoot immediately felt awkward answering like that and added “I wanted to know if you could come in tomorrow for an interview.”
“Tomorrow?” you asked.
There was a hint of surprise in your voice, as if you weren't expecting an interview to be scheduled so soon.
Stay in that mindset, he told himself. Play it off like it's normal.
“Is that a problem?” he asked.
“No no. That's completely fine,” you quickly answered, “Sorry, I just didn't expect to hear anything so fast.”
“Of course,” Shoot replied, “I'm sorry if I'm calling too late.”
“Oh no, not at all! I'm really glad to hear from you.”
With his eyes still on your window, he saw when you finally walked back into view, the phone up to your ear while you looked ready to head out. He had called just in time, then.
“What time would you like me to come in?” you asked.
“Does eight in the morning work for you?”
“Yes, that should be-”
You stopped speaking when your eyes happened to look out the window. For a brief moment, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at the apartment across from you.
The one where Shoot was currently standing at the window.
Only for a brief moment, however, for as soon as he saw your eyes catching sight of his form, he moved to the side and out of view.
His palms were starting to sweat, but he kept himself calm.
“Is everything alright?” he asked you.
His question brought your attention back to the call, and you stammered out “y-yeah. Sorry. It's fine. Eight is just fine.”
“Good. And you know where the main building is?” he asked.
“I believe it's off of Continental Street?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes, I know where to go,” you replied. In the background, Shoot could hear you doing something, though he wasn't certain what exactly that was just from the noise alone.
“We'll see you tomorrow, then,” Shoot told you.
“Yeah- yes! I'll see you tomorrow at eight,” you said, trying to keep your words professional as you added “thank you for calling me.”
“Of course.”
The phone call ended shortly after, leaving Shoot to stare at his phone screen.
Your voice sounded warm during those last moments of the call, and Shoot imagined you smiling when you spoke to him, like he'd made you happy. Though part of him was fully aware that you were happy for the opportunity he told you of and that you felt nothing for him. Certainly not from a phone call that didn't even last five minutes.
Still, he chose to imagine that it had brought you a little bit of happiness. Largely because he knew it would take some time for you to feel happy again after tomorrow. It would be a long period of distress and anger on your part once you realized what he did, and it would likely stress you out even more than your current situation was doing to you.
But it would work out for the best, he told himself.
Shoot then peeked out his window to look at you again, but he was disappointed when he found that the blinds to your window had been closed.
So that was what he'd heard you doing at the end of the call.
Still, it could've been worse; you could've been heading out to be with your boyfriend right now. And as Shoot watched your front door for several minutes and saw that it stayed closed, he felt some relief. The need to get up early in the morning kept you from going to spend a late night out at your boyfriend's place.
At least he had put a stop to that.
The next few hours passed by without any incident. You stayed inside, though because of the blinds that now covered the windows, he only had an idea of what you were doing based on what he had seen of your previous habits. Eventually the lights in your apartment turned dark, signaling that you'd gone to bed so you could get up early to be ready in time for your interview. Once that happened, Shoot sat down, leaning against the wall as he went over everything in his head.
There was no backing out of this now.
No matter what happened tomorrow morning, he couldn't back down again. Even if things went wrong. That internal voice of his would need to keep its mouth shut.
And finally, the limbo would come to an end.
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In the early hours of the morning, when the light of the sun was only barely brightening up the sky, Shoot was waiting for you.
Standing at the end of the walkway, his eyes were fixed on your front door as he waited for the moment where you left.
You hadn't left yet, though he assumed that you would soon in order to make it to your eight o'clock interview. With the distance and how bad traffic could get, you would want to make sure that you had plenty of time to get to the Motoba building.
He would strike when you stepped out, when your back was turned and you were focused on locking up the door behind you. And even if Shoot wasn't the strongest Hunter around, subduing you wouldn't be an issue for him. Compared to some of the jobs he had taken, it would be incredibly easy.
As long as he didn't psych himself out in the middle of it.
No, that wouldn't happen. Like he had told himself last night: when push came to shove, he could do it. And as long as he moved fast and quiet, everything would go as he hoped.
A click from the door sounded as the lock was undone.
Anticipation caused his heart to beat harder when he heard that.
The door opened, and there you were. Wearing a set of nice clothes that you typically used for instances like job interviews when you wanted to make a good first impression. As expected, you were distracted when you stepped out, your attention on the door as you began to close it.
He moved.
Reaching you in moments, he clamped his hand over your mouth. He then pushed against you, forcing the door to crash open while you were forced back into your unit. And once the both of you were inside, he used his foot to shut the door behind him.
Now there would be no witnesses.
Initially, you didn't fight back. Perhaps it was shock combined with how fast it had all happened that left you pliant as he forced his way in after you. But at the sound of the slamming door you began to struggle and pull at his arm, a muffled screaming coming from beneath his palm as you tried to make as much noise as possible. And when that didn't work, you began to try your hardest to bite and scratch at him.
Shoot's left sleeve slipped off, falling to the floor.
You didn't notice the hands at first, too focused on gouging your nails into your attacker's arm to get him off of you. But you became aware when two of them grabbed ahold of your wrists and forced them away from his arm. For a brief moment, your cries stopped and you looked on in shock as you saw that you were being further restrained by a pair of floating hands.
Then you started to hyperventilate, taking in harsh breaths as you tried to comprehend the situation. Without a knowledge of nen, you couldn't understand it.
Shoot had been watching your expressions during this whole time, and when you looked up at him as the tears started to form in your eyes, he felt his resolve falter slightly.
He could stop this.
He could end this before it went any further and leave you alone. Leave the area completely and never come back, and if by some strange chance he was identified as being the one who attacked you, his Hunter status would still protect him. This could end here and there wouldn't be any affect on his life as it was right now.
For you, the situation was one that was terrifying and the aftermath would leave you shaken and confused, but if it stopped here it would leave you relatively unharmed. All you would need to deal with would be police reports and therapy sessions, and you would no doubt have some trauma that would cause you to be more aware of your surroundings, but that would be it.
Shoot could leave, and then all he would be to you was just a terrifyingly bad memory.
A bad memory....
…. And then what, you would go to your boyfriend for comfort every time that memory surfaced? Forever viewing Shoot as the monster while you stayed with a man who wasn't right for you?
Shoot's jaw clenched as he steeled himself. This needed to happen.
“I'm sorry,” he told you, “but this will be for the best.”
You were trying to shake your head 'no', trying to convince him without the use of your words that what he was doing was wrong. You were so focused on trying to appeal to him that you didn't notice the third floating hand that hovered in front of you and clenched itself into a fist.
You weren't aware of it until it slammed into your stomach.
Your eyes widened further for a moment before they fell shut, and you became limp in his grasp. Now you were unconscious, something he was grateful for as Shoot had no desire for you to be awake as he began the process of placing you within Hotel Rafflesia. There was now a hole of black mist in the area where he had hit you, and when the hands on your wrists squeezed hard to cause just enough pain to meet his requirements, those areas of your body also disappeared, replaced by the black mist while they were sent to the birdcage that stood next to him.
No, you didn't need to see any of that.
Minutes later and now Shoot was the only figure standing in the apartment, his heart still beating wildly, this time from the knowledge that he'd actually done it. He had you. Not that he was in any position to be celebrating; he could still be discovered if he hung around here too long. Best to leave sooner rather than later.
But as he picked up his sleeve that had fallen earlier, his attention went back to the small cage before him. Hotel Rafflesia now housed all of you, and you were now sprawled out on the floor of the cage. You would likely be out for some time. That was what Shoot hoped for, at least. You hadn't understood his conjured hands from earlier, and you definitely wouldn't understand if you woke up while still being trapped in his ability. It would be for the best if you slept through all of that.
You'd be sore all over when you woke up, but all the injuries you'd gotten from him would be easily healed.
Less easy would be the state you would be in mentally, but he chose not to think about that for now. That would be a bridge Shoot would cross when he came to it.
As for now, he needed to leave.
With the cage and his conjured hands hidden within the long cloth of his sleeve, he quietly shut the apartment door behind him before heading back towards the stairs. He couldn't hear anything odd coming from any of the units he passed by as he descended, no signs that anyone noticed something amiss. A majority of them were either asleep or too focused on their morning routines to notice the slight disturbance from moments ago.
Good. That was what he'd hoped for.
When he exited the property line of the apartment complex was when Shoot allowed himself to let out a sigh of relief. He had gotten you out without incident, though he was well aware that it was still too early to celebrate. You were now out of the apartment, and now he needed to get you out of the city, preferably before you woke up.
That part would be easier, all things considered, as it would take a bit of time before anyone was aware that you were missing. He knew for certain that you weren't expected anywhere until the early afternoon, and even if you had made plans to meet up with anyone for immediately after your 'interview', he still had plenty of time to leave before any alarm could be raised on that front. It would all work in his favor.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, he remembered the way you looked at him before he knocked you out. The terrified look in your eyes as you started to cry, convinced that he was going to do something horrible to you.
…. In fairness, you weren't wrong – he had hurt you. But he did it because he needed to. Not just as a way to keep you from the other man, but because things couldn't continue as they were any longer. He couldn't keep watching you and doing nothing as you went on with your life, but he couldn't imagine leaving you behind.
It would take some time before you could trust him, no doubt. But again, he told himself to only worry about that when the time came.
And again he told himself that when it really mattered, Shoot could go through with anything.
Getting you to love him back would be no different.
153 notes · View notes
callmerainman · 5 months
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𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 | 𝐊𝐧𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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fandom. Hunter X Hunter
pairing. Knuckle Bine x hunter!fem!Reader
spoilers!. huge Chimera Ant Arc spoilers
plot. the night before the final fight against King Meruem in the palace of East Gorteau, you decide it’s time to confess your love to none other than your friend and Hunter companion, the oblivious Knuckle Bine. Because you can’t sleep, and cause maybe you’ll never have another chance to tell him. But instead, Knuckle makes you promise something: to put the World before him tomorrow. Will you respect his wishes?
word count. 3,6k
prompts. Chimera Ant Arc, aftermath of the Chimera Ant Arc final battle, Reader is also a Hunter and Morel apprentice, secretly in love, love confessions, awkward romance, Knuckle is dense, kissing, making out, getting together.
You like many things about Knuckle.
In the beginning he didn't give you a good impression. You both got close to each other after you got taken under the protective wing of Morel, who instructed you along with Shoot. Shoot is a quieter type, really silent, but getting along with him was smooth and easy. With Knuckle it was a whole other story. During your first missions together he always raised doubts about the tactics you proposed, on the other hand you did the same with him. If you said A, he would say B. If he wanted to go right, you wanted to go left. And this would always end up in yelling, staring contests and headbutting. You understood some things about Knuckle: he was hot-headed, impulsive, loud and a braggart. But he was also kind. No matter how many times he shouted against you, he never did it for personal hatred. It was for genuine interest in helping people in need, and to make sure that the mission was successful. He never insulted you with more than a superficial "idiot", and from his eyes you always understood that he didn't really mean it and that he didn't want to offend your intelligence. Even Knuckle soon realized how kind you were, and how much you took care of things and people you cared about. He respected it. You two learned how to trust one another and make a better team, much to Shoot's and Morel's relief, who honestly couldn't take it anymore. Your fights decreased, replaced by an unconditional affection and a unbreakable loyalty. And from your part, even love. People would often ask if you and Knuckle were a couple. And every time both you and him would answer with a ferocious "OF COURSE NOT!". Knuckle's cheeks and ears would get hot, and you would feel your stomach erupt in warmth from embarrassment. You couldn't look at each other in the face.
His hair, first of all. They were his trademark. Always styled in a pompadour, they were really popular between high school thugs. Knuckle told you that he even formed a gang when he was a student, and that it was the most feared inside the school. To be honest, you were really sure that it was just a very normal group of friends who loved to slack off, and that he told you that just to sound tough. You like the stress lines under his eyes, which give him a serious look just how he wanted it. And you appreciate his ears, which become red and hot when he loses his shit or when he's embarrassed, two moods he constantly swings between.He has a pretty body, toned and muscular thanks to his intensive workouts and his inclination towards the art and use of Nen.And you like that he takes care of stray dogs, and the way he cries so easily out of sympathy and emotion. He's a sweet guy who gets moved to tears so often even though he hides it behind a tough-guy armor. You like more things about him than you can count.
One time, while patrolling alone with Morel and Shoot during a mission, you dared to question them about all of this.
"I wonder why people always ask me and Knuckle if we're a couple. For example, why not me and you, Shoot?"
If only Shoot had eyebrows, he would have raised them all the way up his hairline. So his hooded eyes were just comically wide. Morel, on the other hand, erupted in a loud, gigantic laugh that made you jump in surprise. A laugh so hard that he had to hold onto his pipe. You stopped, putting your hands on your hips.
"C'mon, what are you laughing at!" you pouted.
"Are you really asking why people think that you and that idiot are couple?!" Morel choked between laughter "you with the shiny eyes every time you stare at him? Who drools when he takes off his jacket during combat? Who plays with her hair like schoolgirl when we get out for drinks and he offers you a beer? You gotta be kidding me!"
And he proceeded to keep laughing again. Meanwhile, your face caught on fire. You smacked both hands on your mouth, shaking your head vigorously.
"I never stared at him!" you tried to object.
"If I may intrude" Shoot intervened, shyly "you stare at him a lot"
"That's not possible..." you whispered.
You wanted to threaten your own mentor to stop laughing, because what Morel said wasn't true at all. You didn't like Knuckle that way. But you just couldn't protest. Morel was right. You did really like Knuckle that way!
"Fuck, I like Knuckle! How could it be...and most importantly, what do I do!" you exclaimed, fisting your hair in your hands out of panic.
Morel sighed, puffing some smoke in the process. Then, he showed off one of the big grins of his.
"Boys are complicated, dearie, so I suggest we all get drunk tonight"
"Sounds like a great idea" you replied.
The step from liking to loving was really short. It was so easy to fall in love with Knuckle once you understood that you had feelings for him. Even though you kept fighting now and then, and you still called each other idiots. He cared about immensly, and you cared about him. Everything culminated one night after you promised to protect each other with your own lives. Morel took you out to drink as usual, and maybe you and him were a bit drunk.
"If the situation ever requires it, I'll give up my life for you, (Y/N)" Knuckle said.
Yeah, you did drink, and you were waiting for a taxi outside the bar you usually spent your free time in. But the way his eyes looked into you as he said that was so damn serious. And you, to such a determined and kind gaze, could answer with a stare just as serious.
"And I'll do the same for you, Knuckle"
Night before the selection
It's a quiet night. Clear, silent. You and your teammates would appreciate it more if only there wasn't this uneasiness in the air. Tomorrow the King of Chimera Ants, Meruem, will begin the selection, which will kill millions of people in no time. You, Knuckle, Morel and Shoot were selected to go to the NGL region to get rid of the menace. It's, without the shadow of a doubt, the most dangerous mission you've ever dealt with, you understood it during your fights against the Ants. And facing the Royal Guards will be way worse. Both you and Knuckle risked a lot, and if you ever had to die one day, you feel like it would be tomorrow. And you still didn't tell Knuckle that you love him. What if this is the last good moment to tell him? Tomorrow you won't have time for sure, and maybe not even after, because you're not sure that there'll be an after tomorrow. The thought creeps you out and prevents you from sleeping and gathering energies. You tried to sleep on the floor of the small abandoned chalet where you and and your squad are resting. But the fact that Gon and Killua keep doing push-ups doesn't really help. With a nervous sigh, you get up. You exit the chalet, taking a big breath of fresh air. You were feeling like suffocating before. The air is cold just right. And stars are really beautiful in NGL, without any artificial light the night sky is a whole other story. This could be your last chance to see so many pretty stars, because you're pretty sure that tomorrow you won't have any time to raise your nose up. An imperceptible sound of chattering makes his way towards your ears. You turn around to see if you have company, but there's no one. A small leaf lands on your nose, and you look upwards. Shoot and Knuckle are discussing something on top of a tall tree, you can't hear what they're saying but the concern in their voices is evident. Knowing that you aren't the only one uncomfortable relieves you, so you decide to climb up the tree and reach them.
"Trouble sleeping?"
As soon as Knuckle sees you, he jumps. And Shoot flushes red in a matter of seconds, sweating profusely. You raise a curious brow.
"What's going on? Did I interrupt something?" you ask, concerned.
Even Knuckle's cheeks become a blushing mess, his lips pressed tightly against each other and his muscular body stiff under his white jacket.
"No it's just..." Knuckle says, almost stuttering "y-you...YOU HAVE SOME NASTY EYEBAGS!"
Knuckle points a finger right to your face, and Shoot covers his face with his hand.
You're absolutely not convincing...he thinks.
But Knuckle still manages to make you mad as fuck, and you grit your teeth.
"That ain't true! It's just that I can't sleep tonight!" you protest, raising two fists in front of the Beast Hunter.
"I think I'll leave you two alone" Shoot whispers, and with only a jump he gets down the tall tree.
"Shoot, wait!" you exclaim.
Having his company would have reassured you, since he was just as anxious as you. You're always surrounded by impulsive Hunters without any sense of danger, who understands you better than him?
"But for real, are you okay?"
It was Knuckle who talked, who's voice got softer. He's looking at you with apprehension, the stress lines under his eyes frowning. You relax your gaze too as you meet his eyes.
"Not really" you sigh, and you sit right next to him on the tree branch, your feet swinging in the darkness beneath it.
"Nervous for tomorrow?"
"Yeah, we went on so many missions before this one without loosing once. But we aren't invincible, and this is a really big menace. I'm worried that we might not make it"
You were so scared of never getting to tell him that you love him. Maybe you should do it now. Knuckle doesn't say anything. It's true, by this hour tomorrow he could have already lost you. The thought terrifies him. He had already faced 5000 battles without losing one, but nothing can guarantee him that you'll be with him after tomorrow. He presses his lips together and looks down. You can't stand his eyes either.
"You're right, this time we can't be so certain" he murmures "I'm sorry, (Y/N), I can't make you feel better"
You have to tell him now.
"Knuckle, there's something I have to sa-"
"Wait, (Y/N), I have to tell you something too" Knuckle interrupts you. He has never done this, he always respected your words, even when he didn't agree.
You hold your breath, gripping your clothes between your fingers.
"What?" you ask with half a voice.
Knuckle finally looks at you, serious. He reaches for you with his hand and softly grazes your face so that you can look at him. You hope he doesn't feel it getting warmer under his touch, because you feel that way in response of his unexpected gesture. You just know that your pupils are dilated now. You're drowning in his eyes, always so furious yet kind. After making sure that you're looking in his eyes, he lets his hand fall from your face slowly.
"I..." Knuckle opens his mouth, but it seems like words are stuck in his throat. He never had trouble talking, why now?
For a moment it seems like Knuckle's stumbling on his own words.
"I..." ha takes a deep breath, before shaking his head "made you a promise, one night in front of our bar"
You look at him intently.
"And I know that I was very drunk, but I always took it seriously. And I know you did the same"
You didn't expect him to talk about your promise. Instinctively, you scoot closer to him making your body scratch against the bark of the branch.
"Of course I took it seriously" you say.
"But I gotta ask you to break it”
You spread your eyes open. Knuckle gets close to you too and lays his hand on your shoulder. A shiver goes down your spine.
"Knuckle I can't"
"But you have to, because this isn't just a mission, you just said it yourself. This is about saving the world, and promises can't count anymore. Except for this one"
"Which one?"
Slowly your hand trailed up your own shoulder to touch Knuckle's, caressing his fingers. Usually the embarrassment would be too much to handle. Your physical touch was always playful or angry, never intimate. But you don't have time to be embarrassed.
"Tomorrow you have to prioritize the mission, not me. Even if I'll be on the verge of death, you have to put our duty first, not me. I know that this goes against what we always said to each other, but please respect it. If the situation ever requires it, put the world before me"
Your fingers tighten around his hand harder. You feel yourself tearing up but you repress them. You grit your teeth and tremble. You start to really fear how you'll feel tomorrow if this is your reaction at just the idea of losing Knuckle. Would you ever take it?
"Alright, I'll do it"
Knuckle is surprised, but pleasantly. He really didn't want to fight with you tonight.
"But only if you'll do the same with me. If the situation requires it, choose the world and not me"
Knuckle holds your hand on your shoulders. He frowns. He always does it when he's conflicted. Then, he nods with determination in front of your eyes.
"Alright, I promise"
"Then I promise too"
Too focused on holding your hands, none of you noticed the free ones crossing their fingers behind your backs.
Dawn after the fight of East Gorteau
You broke your promise with Knuckle and Knuckle did the same for you. You woke up next to Ikalgo in a warehouse under East Gorteau's palace, where Meruem lived. The octopus explained to you that it was over, that the King was poisoned and was spending his last moments with Komugi, the girl you had in custody hours ago. You won. You're covered in wounds, but still able to stand up. You ended up like this while fighting against Youpi, throwing yourself in defense of Knuckle who fell in his trap. Your weapons were reduced to dust by the Royal Guard, but you were able to blind some of his eyes. However, the fight made both you and your Nen unable to fight. Your Nen was proven really effective against Royal Guards, so giving it up was a loss for your team and for the chances of saving humanity. You broke your promise. Knuckle did the same for you when Youpi threatened not only to kill Morel, but also yourself if he didn't deactivate Potclean. And so Knuckle did. You both broke the promise that you never intended to keep. After the fight you collapsed from tiredness and loss of blood. You had a brief and confused memory of Knuckle taking you in his arms before laying you down in a safe place. When you woke up, Ikalgo was next to you and told you the news.
"Where's Knuckle? Is he okay?!" you blurt out.
Ikalgo nods "The King knocked him out along with Meleoron, but he's fine. He should still be at one of the palaces towers"
Using your last energies, you stand up. Ikalgo cured all your wounds but scratches and cuts are still visible. Some scars will never go away.
"(Y/N)! Are you sure?" Ikalgo asks, concerned.
"Yeah, I'll go get him. Can you take me to him? There are some things that still haven't said to him and I thought I would never be able to"
Ikalgo, seeing your sincere and tired smile, nods. He takes you under one of his tentacles, supporting your body until you arrive in front of the room where Knuckle was laying down unconscious. You stand in the room. Sunlight beams through the window and delicately touch his sculpted body, his face still frowned in determination despite his loss of senses. You smile again, calm, before looking at Ikalgo. You exchange looks of understanding, then he trots towards Meleoron and takes away his sleeping but unscathed body.
It's just you and Knuckle now.
You get close to his body slowly, ruins crankling under your feet. You crouch down in front of him, sitting on your legs. You reach for his hair and start caressing them slowly. You almost don't want to wake him up, even though it's a tormented sleep caused by violence.
"Knuckle, it's me, (Y/N)"
His back rises as if he had been underwater for so long. He groans deeply before using all his energy to roll on his back. Now he's facing upwards, his gaze looking up at your calm and sweet smile. Knuckle squeezes and opens his eyes slowly, welcomed by your face. A small smile extends on his own face in response.
"(Y/N)..." he slurs, his voice raspy "you're alive...did we win?"
Carefully, you take Knuckle's head between your hands and slowly place it on your lap. He lets you do so without daring to protest.
"Yeah, we won. The King was poisoned and is spending his last hours in peace. It's over" you answer.
You gently start to caress his pompadour, now messy. Your delicate strokes go in tandem with your tired breaths.
"Great, but...I broke the promise" Knuckle goes on, a bit mortified.
"I did it too, it doesn't matter, I would do it again" you reply as you keep touching him.
You never had such an intimate moment, such a gentle touch under sun rays. You've never been so happy to see the sun rising.
"Knuckle, there's something I have to tell yo-"
"I'm in love with you"
You jump in surprise and spread your eyes open. For a moment you believe that he's just being delirious because of tiredness. But then you get lost in his gaze. Knuckle's face, always so angry and tough, completely melted in a tender and meek smile, kissed by the sun, pacified. You stop stroking his hair for a sec.
"What?"
"I'm in love with you, I really mean it. Tonight I realized how precarious the world is and that I couldn't afford to just not tell you" Knuckle says, in a whisper.
Your eyebrows arch upwards and a moved smile sprawls across your wounded face.
"I love you too, Knuckle"
Knuckle's reaction is similar to yours. Mouth slightly parted, a small inhale of surprise. It's really sweet. He didn't expect you to reciprocate, he didn't expect nothing from you in fact.
"(Y/N)..."
"I love you even though I always fight with you, even if you're hot-headed, stubborn, a braggart and with a weird haircut. But I love the way you care about others even when you deny it, and the way you cry for them. I love your haircut too, by the way. I just want to give you back the kindness you give to me and other people"
Your hands touches him again, this time caressing his cheek. Knuckle doesn't know what to say, words dying in his throat. You get lost in his eyes once again, then you snap out of it and your cheeks get hot.
"Ah-ehm, sorry...um...I wanted to say these things last night on the tree but I chickened out " you stutter awkwardly.
Knuckle breaks the silence with a laugh that echoes through the chamber.
"Hey, what are you laughing at?" you ask, scowling.
"It's funny, I wanted to confess too last night. Me and Shoot were talking about that, and that's why you scared us when you appeared out of nowhere. Ah, I don't even know why I told him!"
You chuckle "Maybe because you care about him a lot"
"That's not true, take that back!" Knuckle shouts, pointing a finger in your face.
Knuckle's face becomes a blushing mess, and you let yourself go in a laugh because Knuckle is always the same. Incapable of hiding his kindness and his affection towards other people. The finger aiming at your face touches your cheek, then under the eye, next thing you know his entire hand is encapsulating your cheek.
"Come over here..."
Without even realising it, you bend over Knuckle and you kiss. You often asked youself how kissing Knuckle would feel like, and this exactly corresponds to the idea. So delicate, but passionate. Knuckle's lips move on yours and you reciprocate immediately, closing your eyes. You press your mouth against his, it's warm like a hug of someone coming back from war. Warm like someone who couldn't wait anymore to say I love you. When you rise up you press your lips together, trying to suppress a smile, but unsuccessfully. You're sure that your face is a mess, just like Knuckle's which is really hot red.
"Wow..." you whisper.
"Yeah, wow..." Knuckle murmurs, dumbfounded.
You look down at him again "What do you say if we wait for Morel and Shoot to get better, then we all go out to get drunk to celebrate, then we go make love in my apartment?"
"Hell yeah"
Knuckle gathers some energies to hoist himself on his elbows and sit up. You help him stand up, but you have to support each other under your arms because both of you are too tired. You start to walk out the room.
"And after that you'll be my girlfriend?" Knuckle asks.
"I'm pretty sure that I already am"
Suddenly, you hear some sniffling echoing through the empty palace alley. You turn around.
"Are you seriously crying right now? For real?" you ask, startled.
"Shut up! I'm not!'
"Yeah you are, idiot!"
"Don't you dare tell this to anyone, or..."
"Or?"
"I don't know, I can't do anything to you you're my girlfriend now!"
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dublinskeetz · 3 months
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𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞
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hello! welcome to my page, i’m a fairly new writer here on tumblr but have been a member since about 2021, and i’m excited to get to write about the things i love, so welcome ‪♡
rules!
i will not write any form of smut, i just don’t feel comfortable and will probably not be good at it lol
i do not write for any character or person that is underage
i do will not and do not condone any writing of things like SA, kidnapping, murder, etc. basically anything that’s wrong and rlly weird to read/write.
who i will write for:
f1:
daniel ricc
charles leclerc
lando norris
oscar piastri
carlos sainz
and more!
inhaler:
all members!
requests are open! i’m very open to requests as long as they are within my rules lol so thank u!! ‪♡ i will also do smaus so pls req those as well!! thank u!!
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aritamargarita · 5 days
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ATTITUDE || 001
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IT'S YOUR FIRST introduction to the World Wrestling Federation and you’re surprised at the fan reaction. It makes you giddy, but now people (including those in the back) are going to be expecting much of you. Your two best friends, Torrie Wilson and Stacy Keibler, return back to the hotel room and you guys chat before heading to sleep.
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The adrenaline rush is still coursing through your veins as Shane McMahon helps you back over the barricade. You had just shown up to interfere in a match between Matt Hardy and the Big Show.
Shane told you that you needed to focus your attention on the redhead, Lita, and deal with the other, Trish Stratus, if necessary.
At one point in the match, Lita yanks Trish off of the apron and her shirt went along with it. Yikes.
Shane figured that this was a wonderful opportunity for you to get in there. He lightly pushes you forward and that was your cue to get the hell in there.
Lita was so busy with trying to beat on Trish that she hadn’t even noticed you jumped over the barricade. You can see her scream at Trish to “get up” as you approach. Her back is toward you. Perfect!
At first, the crowd was confused, but once realizing that you weren’t a fan, they holler and cheers at your appearance, quickly recognizing you from WCW.
“Is that—my god!” JR yells. “That’s [Name], from WCW!”
The crowd seems to get even louder when you yank Lita‘s shoulder and turn her toward you to smash your forearm right in her face.
Trish is looking on in awe, covering herself and scooting backward from the scene. Whoever you were, you kind of saved her?!
“She’s not taking too kindly to Lita right now!” Paul exclaims with laughter in his voice. “Fight, fight, fight!”
Lita doesn’t even get a chance to fight back, you’re moving way too fast.
It’s a little strange to hear the crowd so excited, but you try not to let it distract you as much.
Before you had gotten out of there, you made sure to give Lita a final parting gift. A swift DDT. You throw your arm around her neck and sweep your leg back, before pulling both of you down to the floor. Lita’s head slams into the concrete and you hop up from your spot.
The crowd gives a resound “ooooh” in response. If your DDT was in a box, it’d be wrapped with the prettiest bow anyone has ever seen.
Meanwhile, Trish wants to be thankful to you, this stranger that beat the hell out of Lita. Yet, she’s not sure if she should be feeling so grateful.
Covering herself with her coat, she slowly starts to make her way to the other side of the ring. She doesn’t want any problems with you!
And luckily for Trish, you didn’t have enough time to handle her, so you’ll save it for next show. Just disrupting the match equilibrium is enough.
No one was expecting you at all. You’re following behind the footsteps of people like Lance Storm, Hugh Morrus, and Booker T…..you are officially the fourth star to appear from WCW.
These random occurrences were no coincidence. To the WWF, it just meant man or woman, anyone could get it at any time.
Let it be known that the forbidden door is completely blown off its hinges. There was no longer any boundaries.
You had quickly made your way out before security could retrieve you and Shane had been waiting for you by the barricade. You two made a swift exit, with him encouragingly patting your side as he holds onto you.
Right now, he’s still guiding you out to the limousine with a camera trailing behind you two. The crowd cheers don’t end despite you two getting the hell out of there. You can still hear the noise from the arena.
“Great job, [Name]!” He exclaims. “Bet my father wasn’t expecting that! Now both divisions have something to look out for!” Shane quickly opens the door for you. “Get in!”
You quickly hop into the limo, shuffling in. Shane follows you and closes the door afterwards.
And just like that, it was the start of your WWF journey. You had always wondered if it’ll be like WCW. The backstage environment was sure to be different than this ones.
You suppose there was only one way to find out.
You’re splayed out in the seat of the limo, and though Shane had squished in there with you, he finds it to be a better idea to go sit across from you.
“I haven’t heard people cheer like that for a woman in years!” A but of an exaggeration, but it still holds true. People made a lot of noise for you.
Your attention is on the ceiling. It still hasn’t set in that the crowd might actually like you. You’re more focused on the fact that you’re actually here in the WWF.
You wouldn’t have ever guessed it. WCW was the place you wanted to be when you started. Years before you debuted, all you did was practice.
Really. Practice, practice, practice. Until you couldn’t move anymore. Your old mentor, Madusa, ensured that you were conditioned enough to be in the ring.
She kept you there for a while. You’d jokingly say that she was holding you hostage, but it ended up being for your benefit. You learned that they would pull the women from the school too early.
Madusa did not want them to make that mistake. She made sure you knew what you were doing before you could go anywhere!
You have to admit though, the training at the power-plant facility wasn’t the best. There were other woman who didn’t exactly know what they were doing. It was easy for them to mess up.
And it’s actually where you met your two close friends, Stacy and Torrie. You were nervous, they were nervous, it’s only inevitable you three would mutter things to one another.
You were more than happy to give them tips on what you knew. From you, they were more than happy to learn. Eventually it grew from only talking in the school to completely hanging out with each other.
It was really nice to finally make some genuine friends.
Shane takes you out of your daydream by holding out a bottle of champagne. “A performance like that deserves some reward! Want some?”
“No, I’m okay.” You shake your head. “But hey, I’m just glad I could get in there!”
Shane thinks you’re downplaying yourself. “Seriously, that was amazing.” He says. “I couldn’t believe it. WWF should know by now there’s one hell of a storm brewing.”
You didn’t realize it at first, but maybe you like this so called “invasion” more than you thought you would.
“You mind if we head to Times Square? I’m due to speak WWF New York.”
Your reply is sluggish. “Yeah, yeah, sure. What is that?”
“It’s mainly a restaurant, but we do some live events there too.” He summarized. 
That quickly reminds you of the WCW Grill in Vegas. You’ve been there many times, whether it to be signing things or just hanging out with other coworkers. 
You lean up from your seat. “WCW had something like that in Vegas! They closed last year though. Bummer, I kinda liked their food. And I think I had a menu item once!”
“Really? Well, I’m sure the WWF’s will be better.” Shane pauses for a second. “I mean, for once. Besides, we’ll be bigger and better. Then you can really get your name on the menu.”
You let out a chuckle. He slipped up a little. “Right.”
”I’m gonna need you for Smackdown too.” Shane says. “You don’t have to worry that much about transportation since we’re staying here for it.”
Oh joy! Seriously! No worrying about catching a flight tonight, that’s less stress on your shoulders. 
“Then I’ll be there.” It’s not like you wouldn’t be anyway.
”While you’re at it, mind asking Torrie if she could attend as well?” He requests you.  “I’ve got a great idea for the both of you.”
A great idea, he says. Not like you’ve heard that before. “Color me intrigued, what’s the plan?” 
“I want you ladies to go undercover in the WWF. Somehow, someway. Get as much information as you can from anyone you run into.” He explains. “If anything goes wrong, WCW will protect you. You’ve got my word on that.”
“I believe you. But how should I do that? Just waltz up in there and proclaim I’m one of them now? I just attacked Lita!” You throw your arms out for extra emphasis.
“Relax. Just act like you were misguided. And when you learned that I wasn’t in the right, you want to change your ways. If I were you, I’d apologize to Lita first.”
It was only a six minute drive from MSG to WWF New York. When the limo pulls up, you can hear the sound of the crowd on the outside of it.
The only thing you could do was nod at Shane. It’s go-time.
Leaning up from your spot, you take a second to fix yourself up, fixing your shirt and adjusting your hair so that it’s presentable. Wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea…
Rumors still can circulate, even if you were seen in the ring earlier! The last thing you wanted was for dirt sheets to grasp at straws, with your boss of all people.
Shane gets out first, then takes a second to open the door. He then pulls it open and you are greeted with the crowd on both sides of the sidewalk.
When they turn their heads to see who else was in the vehicle, they cheer over at you. All you can really do is wave with a smile.
Do they really know who you are?
Photographers are at the ready, their bright white lights flashing at you. It makes you squint every time a camera would go off. You just hoped those photos won’t come out bad.
Shane waits for you, offering his arm for you to take while you get out of the car. You happily take it and he ushers you to go inside.
It’s like walking the red carpet, albeit shorter and quicker. You two go in, and you try to look at what they’ve got on display as you walk.
Lots and lots of action figures. You can only look over there for a few seconds, but you do catch a Lita figure on one of the holders.
There’s a lot of others, but you’re not quite sure who they are. Stone Cold Steve Austin? Triple H? Edge? None of those people ring a bell.
As you two approach the steps, there’s only one thing pops into your mind.
…You can’t believe that this place has two floors! So far, it was beating that WCW Grill by a long shot. Upstairs was for merchandise, and as you two go down you assume that the restaurant was around here.
You’re greeted by another large crowd of people and the both of you make your way over toward the stage.
The camera nearby moves over to the both of you.
Shane lets go of your arm and goes to grab a mic from a stagehand. You wait for him by the center of the stage.
Before he says anything, he reaches down toward the crowd to give them high fives. Shane comes back toward you.
“Surprise,” He says. “Well obviously, I’m not Perry Saturn, and she’s not Terri Runnels. But dad, I know you can hear me. It’s your son Shane, how’re you doing?”
The crowd cheers his name and you keep the smile on your face. This place was WWF New York, but before anyone knew it, it could easily become WCW New York.
“You know, the one that owns WCW. The very organization that has you a little heated under the collar. Because WCW continues to infiltrate your WWF.” Shane motions over toward you.
“[Name] made an example out of two women on your roster, and believe me, that won’t be the end of it.”
You nod your head. You’re eager to take these women down, one at a time. You definitely need to make a mental checklist.
Shane continues on. “You see dad, that is done out of necessity. Because in order to build a brand like WCW, we need television exposure. But I’ve gotta give you credit on this because I didn’t think it was possible, through all of your connections you have been able to block WCW from airing on any television network period.”
When he pauses again for a split second, the crowd cheers him.
“Here’s how it’s gonna go down.” He says. “I may not be able to compete with your checkbook but I can compete with your brains. Since you have prevented WCW from airing on any network, it’s now time for WCW to invade the WWF.”
You clap your hands toward him, then try to signal for the crowd to make some noise. They do and you smile. “Thank you!” Although your words were drowned out by the crowd.
“One of the people to lead the charge in one division stands here next to me,” Shane turns to you. “I reckon that she’ll become the next Women’s Champion in no time..”
You hope so. That’s a big step in your career. You were one year too late in getting the WCW Women’s Championship, despite Madusa’s efforts to revive it.
To your surprise, Shane holds out the mic toward you. He must’ve expected you to say something.
You try not to look like a deer in headlights as you take the mic and speak up.
“All I want is to lead WCW to victory. Whatever it takes, I will do…so let this be a warning to the entire women’s division. What I did to Lita was a demonstration of what’s to come. Trust me when I say that no one can stop me, but feel free to try if you want to…that is if you don’t want to end your career early!”
Shane laughs at your words. Hopefully the women (and men if they so dared,) would take heed. You pass the mic back to him.
“Oh, but that’s not all,” He points a finger up. “Might I introduce the second person to lead the charge, I’m sure that you and Stone Cold Steve Austin know this man very well. Ladies and Gentlemen, the WCW Champion, give it up for Booker T!”
As Booker makes his way from behind the curtain with a mic, he throws up his arms.
You watch as he reaches down to high five the fans. After of which, you reach out your own hand for him to shake. He grabs your hand and shakes firmly.
Shane mimics you, shaking his hand as well.
“Last night, at King of the Ring, it was just too easy, no, it was just too damn easy to take you outta the game!” Booker says.
There are mixed reactions at his words, with more cheering than booing from the antsy crowd.
“—And you call yourself the WWF Champion? I respect that, but ask me what I call you. I’m calling you out to let you know that if you want some you can come and get some, because I’m gonna be here at WWF New York, kicking it all night long!”
Shane brought back up his own mic. “I’d like to call this my dream team. These two are going to lead my brand new company to victory. Dad, this is a warning to you.  I’m just here to say that you’re on borrowed time..”
That’s all that was needed to say.
Shane was 100% sure that his father was watching. He’s also sure that he was boiling in anger. It’s exactly what he wanted.
The camera makes sure to get all three of you into frame. It’s up to you, as that’s left was for you and Booker T to apply pressure on the WWF..
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After the segment at WWF New York, Shane fortunately allowed you to return to your hotel, but told you to watch the remainder of Raw when you could on the television.
You’re not exactly sure what his plan was, but now you’re curious to see. All you knew is that Booker T was asked to stay and they went off somewhere else while you just left through the back this time.
Just what in the world were they up to?
Shane was nice enough to send you your own limousine after bidding you a good night. Most of your energy had fizzed out and you could tell that his had too.
All you were excited for was to flop onto your bed. You don’t even move the comforters, all you do is just lie down for a few minutes. You’re sure you can move a little later.
There’s a lot of big changes going on in your life right now. You think the first biggest one was Shane McMahon’s entry to WCW and how quickly everyone went on his side.
It’s only fair. It’s the competition, hell, it’s the son OF the competition. Who specifically came in saying that he was against his father.
But what made him so trustworthy anyway? A lot of your coworkers were immediately on his side. You knew WCW was declining, but you never thought everyone else would stoop low enough to side with competition.
At least, not that quickly. The way things were going in the company, it made you feel like you had no choice but to trust him. So far, no betrayals, so everything is going okay so far.
You do get enough energy to at least turn on the television to Raw. You figure it’s only right to honor Shane’s request.
Immediately, you’re greeted by the sight of Shane McMahon heading down the ramp with a pep in his step. His father is not happy to see him at all.
Seeing the brand new WCW logo projected onto the ramp makes you feel…
Well, you don’t know how it makes you feel. You can safely say it makes you feel weird though.
You’re so used to it having an obnoxiously large watermark behind it, with the barely visible text of “World Championship Wrestling”.
Now it’s all small, jagged with the points on each letter. You have to tilt your head slightly in order to see it better.
Eventually, the camera moves away from the ramp and decided to follow Shane who was circling around the ring.
With you being able to hear the commentators properly, you wonder what they had to say about your prior run-in. You should’ve asked someone back at home to tape it!
“WCW does NOT belong in Madison Square Garden!” Paul is almost standing out of his seat by now with all of his screaming. 
“You may be right about that, but—“ Unfortunately, JR isn’t allowed to get one single word out thanks to his partner.
“You’re damn right I’m right! I grew up here, I know these things, I see these things!”
You roll your eyes. Shouldn’t Paul Heyman be worried about his own company instead of everyone else’s?
Oh, wait…
You chuckle to yourself. Thank god no one could hear your thoughts or that you were backstage. That wouldn’t have been good.
Vince is beckoning Shane into the ring, but unbeknownst to him, Booker had hopped right up into the ring, ripping his jacket off in the process.
It’s so over for him! You can’t help but smile. You watch as Booker lays in punches onto him, causing him to stagger backwards.
Booker takes advantage of this and runs toward the ropes, bounces off of them, then lifting one of his legs to give him a scissor kick.
Just to add salt in the wound, he hits a spinaroonie to get off the canvas.
How amazing is this?! You can see the entire WWF locker room run down the ramp but Shane and Booker are way too fast, making their exit.
This obviously must’ve been what Shane wanted you to see. Maybe this means that the ball is back in your court now.
You wonder how you can upstage Booker this time. It’ll definitely be hard since he literally knocked the hell out of the literal CEO of the WWF! Vince McMahon!!
Although, Shane offhandedly mentioned he has a sister who also happens to be in the business. You could always find something to do with her if he allows it.
Are you still buzzing from earlier? You had thought your energy was all gone, but it seemed like there was still bits of adrenaline in your veins.
You had only a few seconds to make your appearance count and from what you can think back on, you did a pretty damn good job.
The sound of the door unlocking makes you snap your head to your right.
“Helloooo!” Torrie sings from the doorway. “[Naaame], are you here? I’ve got Stacy with meee!”
Ah yes, your unofficial roommate for this trip. Torrie Wilson. And Stacy, who insisted that she room with you guys this time.
You think she’s just scared of being alone, which is understandable. But there was no need for her to try and sneak into your bed when she could use the pull out couch!
“I saw you on TV,” Stacy exclaims. “You were great! You really kicked….what’s her name? Ah, who cares?! The crowd was really loud too!”
“Yeah.” Is all you can really say to that. And then you fall back onto your bed, turning away from them and putting your head onto the cold pillow.
The both of them share a look, but Torrie’s the first to question you. She takes a seat next to you on the bed. “What’s your problem tonight? I’m surprised you haven’t called us on that dying Nokia you’ve got. Normally you’d be the one to drag us out after a show.”
Torrie teasing you about your phone was nothing new, but you still take offense anyway!
“I’m holding onto it!” Your words are muffled. “My 1999 phone is getting me places, okay?!”
Stacy takes a seat on the opposite side of you. “Aren’t they making a new one in like November?”
“Are they?” You turn your head so that they can hear you better. “I hope they have other colors. But honestly, I’m tired. Kinda.”
“Kind of?” Stacy repeated. “How much sleep did you get last night?”
You hold up five fingers.  “Five, so just enough to me. I had a flight to catch to get here, so five was really pushing it. I can’t really tell if this schedule’s gonna be worse than our old one.”
“Oh, you poor thing!” Torrie exclaimed, rubbing her hand on your back. “You’re right, but with Shane McMahon being our boss, I’ve gotten more sleep than I would normally! But that’s pretty bad to say, huh?”
“Yes,” You mumble. “Yes it is.” She just haaad to rub it in your face.
“Listen, I don’t think we have to be at the next show—“  You quickly interrupt Torrie. “About that, Shane wanted me to ask you to be at Smackdown. He didn’t say anything about Stacy this time.”
It makes Stacy cheer. “Yay! I get to relax aallll day tomorrow. You know what? [Name], I saw this really cute top at Delia’s earlier today. Now I can go back and buy it for you!”
“Was it that crop top with all those safety pins on the side?” Torrie turns over to Stacy. “If it was, that one totally screamed [Name].”
”YES!” She exclaimed. “That’s exactly the one I’m talking about!”
”From the sound of it, it sounds like I’m gonna have to have a lot of trust in that top.” You say. “And when did you guys go shopping??”
”Earlier. See, they said they needed us.” Torrie removes her hand from your back. “Then I guess they changed their minds since they had you?” It’s the only logical explanation she comes up with.
Whatever, it’s really no big deal. ”Well, you’re gonna be needed tomorrow anyway. And Stacy, I’m sure they’re gonna ask you to show up again. People went crazy! It would be bad if we just left you two in New York.” 
“I wouldn’t mind at all!” Stacy finally decides to take a seat too. “Times Square is beautiful! If I could, I’d totally live here.”
“I saw a rat walking down the street with pizza.” You comment. “And you’d stay here. Crazy, crazy, girl.” 
Stacy definitely rethinks it. “…Well, now that you say that, shopping only!”
“Hold on a second, it had pizza?!” Torrie exclaims.
It’s gonna be a long, long night, that’s for sure.
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*painfully gives a thumbs up.* I SWEAR THIS WAS LONGER WHEN I LOOKED AT THIS OMG. but, yeah. Here we go again, please strap in for the ride
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supercap2319 · 4 months
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"You really think I'm going to let my son date a filthy witch?" Cole Turner growled as he leaned down towards you. You were a witch. A Charmed One. And Parker's dad hated you for it. You had this insane idea that if you could vanquish Parker's dad, he wouldn't be around to corrupt him.
Now, here you two were. At each other's throats, ready to vanquish one another. "You really think I'm going to let Parker's asshole dad corrupt him to be evil?" You countered.
"You think you have the power to vanquish me?" Cole taunts you.
"Try me."
Cole summoned a knife and pointed it at you. "I'm going to enjoy running this knife through your body." You watched as he changed and morphed into his demonic side. He got taller and his skin was now red with black flame-like markings, sharp teeth and black eyes. This was the upper-level demon Belthazor.
You knocked the athame out of his hands and you kicked him in the chest and when he stumbled slightly, you levitated and kicked him in the face as he stumbled back. You stood there in a defensive position as he summoned an energy ball and threw it towards you. Before you could dodge it, another energy ball that was green canceled out Belthazor's.
You and Belthazor turned to see Parker looking at you both. "What the hell is going on here?!"
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orangeinecstasy · 5 months
Note
inhaler bf thoughts please please please please🙏
an: AAAHHH YES IVE BEEN WAITING TO DO THIS!!! had to do ryan first because i love him so much.
ryan bf thoughts ฺ。*:・
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quality time!! he will 100% just pop over to your place so that he can be around you. he doesn’t care if you’re just sitting on the couch as long as he’s with you
move dates! can totally see him wanting to try out different theaters and maybe even a drive in. also you totally make him watch the 1996 romeo and juliet OMG AND WHIPLASH!
#1 passenger princess. he doesn’t care that you’re the one that can drive he loves it
spa days were you guys do face masks
soooo many pictures of you on his phone. we all know and love his random aesthetic instagram stories and you’d be all over them
park dates
late night music sessions where he constantly asks your opinion on lyrics or how something sounds
songs dedicated to you at shows - would put out when i’m with you from the vault just to play it for you
constantly sending you songs that remind him of you
definitely have some sort of couples item like a matching necklace or ring. but it’s something simple like a silver chain or a small band. nothing too crazy that screams i’m matching with my partner
going back to the romeo and juliet part - definitely did a couples costume based off of their party outfit
definitely soft launched the relationship. he just wants to feel like yours and his and not another third parties
definitely wants to be the little spoon after a long day. you make him feel safe and happy and he wants to be fully engulfed in that comfort
reading together
wearing each other's clothes. because he's a short king you both can totally swap clothes super easy
sending him edits you find of him on TikTok - i KNOW he thinks they're super funny and secretly LOVESSS them
calls you before every show when you're not there
museum dates-- i feel like he would want to go to an art museum most of the time, but you would drag him to a science one at least for one of the dates
baking together-- he always tries to eat the cookie dough and you always tell him he'll get sick
painting your nails together
can 100% see him wearing a ring of yours on a chain around his neck. maybe your claddagh to be a bit cheeky
when he's sitting next to you he definitely will drum on you thigh or tap his fingers against to some rhythm that's stuck in his mind
dancing in the kitchen together late at night
such a big words of affirmation guy
music store dates where you guys try out interments and pick up a few new records
so so so many coffee shop dates
wine tasting in italy
an: the other three guys bf thoughts are already in the works. i wasn't sure if i should be a nsfw section for inhaler's but lmk if you guys would be interested in that!
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sullenshrugs · 9 months
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sweet prince
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→ sum: after returning home for tour, rob asks you to read your favorite book to him.
→ contains: fluff, some teasing, shakespeare quotes
→ length: 0.5k (another blurb sorry)
a/n: got inspired and wrote this one the other night. remember to like and reblog if you enjoyed! <3
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you lay in bed, bundled up in a mountain of blankets to shield yourself from the cold air. the muffled sound of water pattering from rob's shower fill the air as you flip through your book. it was the first night in a while that the two of you had to yourselves since the tour ended. when he got back to your place, he greeted you at the door with a smile and embraced you for the first time in what felt like ages.
you were too invested in the words in front of you to hear rob turn off the water and enter the bedroom. "what are you reading?" he asks, ruffling his hair with a towel as he leans on the doorframe. you look up from the book, "Hamlet." he hums in response and turns back to walk into the bathroom.
you close the book and run your finger along the spine, feeling the textured edge. it was the copy rob had gotten you for your birthday. you remember how he shyly handed it to you, muttering something about being awful at gifts. when you opened it, you were met with a note reading:
"Doubt thou the stars are fire. Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar. But never doubt I love."
you told him it was the best gift anyone had ever given you.
you feel the weight next to you shift and smell his shampoo and cologne as he joins you under the sheets. "im starting to think you love prince hamlet more than me, my dear" you giggle as he nuzzles into your neck, his mullet tickling your skin.
"maybe i do" you tease. "i mean he's a prince after all—" he scoffs in annoyance, "yeah, and he's also fucking crazy." "and you aren't?" you question, smiling at the pout he gives you. "i'm only joking, my love" you console and lean down to kiss him soft lips.
he lies back, resting his head on your chest, watching as you return to your book. "read it to me" he murmured, his voice catching in the blankets around the two of you. "you want me to read you hamlet?" he nods "it's your favorite book, and I've never read it before myself, so why not" he says nonchalantly. you stare at him for a bit before opening the play to where you had left off.
"what a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculty, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god, the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals. and yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not me; no, nor woman neither; though by your smiling you seem to say so"
he's so entranced by the sound of your voice. it's soft and sweet, yet filled with passion as you read the text. he looks up at you in adoration, admiring your focused on the book in front of you—the book he gave you. he feels his eyelids slowly grow heavy as your melodic voice lulls him into a sleep he can't escape.
you continue reading for a while before you realize he'd fallen asleep, giggling at his soft snores. you brush the hair out of his eyes, looking at the peacefulness across his face. you close the book and press a kiss on his temple.
"goodnight, sweet prince"
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sirenlulls · 10 months
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you're losing me → e. hewson
pairing —elijah hewson x singer!fem!reader
summary —where you release a new single that sends your friends into a heartbroken panic
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sarahskeetz guys, before you go crazy about the eli and y/n rumours, please use some common sense and reevaluate. y/n's wrote countless songs about how elijah is her soulmate AND how media is often so wrong and invasive in regards to their lives and that people shouldn't believe things unless either of them say it directly. plus, these pictures of them were literally posted last month. she'd hardly have prepped you're losing mebto be released in that amount of time
username no fr, even if they did split, they don't deserve the harassment they're both getting online for it
joshjenkily litch. they should be allowed to deal with it in their own time
ynbridgerss okay but the clear parallels between these songs and ylm....
pheebrodrighoe no I get you but y/n hasn't interacted with any of the inhaler guys in a month despite being active online for her tour and even camilla (the number one eliyn stan) hasn't mentioned them since those photos
ynkissmeee lowk hope the rumours are true, he's been leeching off her for years 😭
judebellinghams omg shut up what are you even talking about 💀
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yourusername thank u for all the love tonight, la! it's been a hectic week at best so it was lovely to just enjoy the night with you all 💞 but onto the elephant in the room.... i'm still very happily in a relationship with my little babygirl. "you're losing me" is written about my former relationships (mostly platonic) with others that i finally realised were TOTALLY MESSED UP after being with someone who loves me wholeheartedly for so long xx thank you all for the people who did send kind messages my way but please stop listening to gossip sites 😭
sahraskeetz THANK YJE LORD
camillamorrone guys my tweet was bcs y/n ditched me to get food w 🤢eli🤢
yourusername i brought u back a tiramisu shut up
ynxcamistan QUEEN YOU HAD US GAGGED
gracieabrams mother!!
ynhq thank god, we didn't want to leave elijah completely alone in the divorce 💔
robertkeating ❤️❤️
phoebebridgers so in love with you
devonleecarlson stop girl i was giggling over the articles 😭
bellahadid ok stunner
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