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nicksbestie · 24 days

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Dress - C. Sturniolo

Summary : AU where Chris is a frat boy, you're his girlfriend that he brings to their formal, and he's obsessed with the dress you chose.

Warnings : 16+ content. i am not responsible for the media you choose to consume online. smut, makeouts, p in v, fingering, overall very loving/sweet scene

Word Count : 3758

Pairing : Chris Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : @bratzforchris and i were discussing this idea... and so it was born! hope you enjoy!

You had sworn to yourself in high school that you were never going to be the person who was always at parties in college.

It wasn’t your scene, you weren’t going to be that reckless, and you didn’t like being around drunk people. You’d promised yourself and your family that you would be safe and responsible, and if you were to go out, you wouldn’t take things too far. So how did you end up in a frat house every weekend, drunk out of your mind, stumbling back home? The college pressure has gotten to you. You didn’t feel well, you were struggling in your classes, so you turned to the one thing that got you to get a normal amount of sleep, and that just happened to be passing out drunk way too often than you should have been.

It wasn’t helping you, but it was keeping you from having to think about it too much, because instead of laying awake in your dorm, staring at the ceiling until three in the morning, the taste of alcohol was coating your lips, and all you cared to think about was the next cup you were picking up. It didn’t even matter what was in it. As long as it wasn’t laced with anything, you would down it easily. You were going down a terrible path, and everyone who encountered you for more than a couple nights in a row could see that. Your roommate had tried to talk you out of going out so much, but you had ignored her, choosing to brush her advice to the side as you continued to do what you were doing. She had resorted to keeping you as safe as possible, knowing that she couldn’t control you, but she was always there after the parties, helping take care of you and making sure you got home safely.

She was there every morning after as well, holding your hair back when the alcohol hit you as soon as you woke up, helping you clean the makeup from the previous night off of your face. She would lay out medications for you, making sure you drank water to help soothe your unavoidable headache, and all of the care would come with a gentle reminder that you shouldn’t be doing this. You would always listen but never actually take it to heart, and luckily, she was still always there. She didn’t give up on you, but she knew pushing you could risk pushing you farther into the state you were already in, so she took care of you in all the ways that she could. But eventually, she wasn’t the only one doing so. You were always at the same frat house, so a lot of the boys knew you by your face, not much by your personality, or even by your name. There was one boy, however, who always made sure to have his eyes on you.

Chris had noticed you since the first time you had ever showed up to a party hosted by his fraternity, and he wasn’t ashamed of it. You were beautiful, but he was way too drunk to approach you. His confidence was definitely increased by the alcohol, but he also knew from experience that hitting on a girl while he was wasted probably wasn’t the best choice, and he saw that you had someone with you, even though it was another girl. He had seen you every time you came into the frat house, and he had stayed sober solely for the reason of eventually talking to you. He noticed just how drunk you had been getting, and he kept his eyes on you so that if you needed help, he could be there. And eventually, his moment came. Your roommate hadn’t been there for you one night, because she didn’t know that you had come to a party this night, having had an evening class. So when you were basically stumbling down the front steps, he had rushed to make sure you didn’t fall.

It had all started there. He walked you home that night, making sure that you were okay, and when you had slurred over the words that invited him in, he accepted, solely for the purpose of not leaving you drunk and alone. He knew how it could look, so he kept his distance, laughing with you and spending time with you until your roommate got home. When she did, she couldn’t deny that she was shocked to see someone she didn’t know sitting on her dorm floor, but Chris rushed to explain that he had only come in to make sure that you didn’t wander off the second that he left. He introduced himself, leaving as soon as he was sure that you were safe, and every time you returned to the frat house, he was making sure that you were always within his sight range. He walked you home multiple times after that, really getting to know your roommate, and they became good friends.

The two of them combined had been the reason that you stopped partying so much. You still went out occasionally, but you were stone cold sober, and you only went to hang out with Chris. After a couple more weeks of this, Chris finally got the urge to ask you out, and you had accepted with a wide smile. It had been an amazing night, complete with him walking you home, having the route he had walked so many times memorized, dropping you off with a promise to see you the next day. You were infatuated with him, admiring the way he had kindly taken care of you for longer than you had ever noticed. He genuinely seemed like a good person, and he had taken everything so slow, knowing that you didn’t take very well to things moving quickly. He had been so supportive in your journey to get sober, and he and your roommate were everything to you.

So that brought you to now, your roommate helping you curl your hair as you were getting ready for Chris’ fraternity formal. You had finally decided that you wanted to go to one of them, and your anxiety was racing, your heart pounding in your chest. When you had really begun to get to know Chris, you realized just how popular he really was, an incredible contrast to your social life. You weren’t a nobody, but you certainly weren’t one of the people who was recognized in every class you stepped in, giving out high fives in the hallways, and having hundreds of people show up to your parties because they wanted a chance at speaking to you. However, he never let the popularity get to his head, and that was one of the things that you loved the most about him. He was genuinely a good person, but dating someone who was so popular as being someone who was not still made your heart sink.

People knew you were friends with Chris, but they didn’t know that you were dating him. The only people who knew that you and Chris were dating were you, Chris, and your roommate, as you had kept it very under wraps. You weren’t going to lie, you had heard some of the drunk comments that the frat brothers in Chris’ fraternity had made about him hanging out with you, and sometimes they stung, so you hadn’t come out about the true nature of your relationship with him. Chris had understood, and had no problem keeping it between your close group, knowing that regardless of who knew about the two of you, you were still his girl, so the approval of other people didn’t matter to him. You were a hopeless romantic, and Chris really was everything that you had ever dreamed of, but you were also a firm believer in the fact that relationships flourished better when they were quieter.

This was the first time that you were going out publicly as a couple. You had actually suggested it, knowing that Chris had asked a couple of times if you would ever consider it, and originally, you had said no. But now, you felt like you were ready, feeling like as long as you were with your boyfriend, it didn’t matter what anybody else thought or said about you. It may be cheesy, but you had the people who mattered to you the most, and everybody else could deal with it. Chris had been over the moon when he heard your decision, excited to take you out, and knowing that you would look absolutely stunning in whatever you chose to wear. Your roommate was careful not to burn you with the curling iron, touching up your makeup for you before leaving the bathroom to pull your dress off of the hanger, handing it to you for you to slip on. You zipped it up as far as you could, it catching on the fabric near the top, so you stepped out of the bathroom to have your roommate finish zipping it up for you. She smiled as soon as she saw you.

“You look beautiful, babe. Chris is going to lose his mind.”

You smiled back, turning around so she could help.

“Do you mind? I couldn’t get it all the way up.”

“Of course not!”

The second she went to finish zipping your dress, there was a knock at the door. Your dress was zipped up enough to stay perfectly positioned on you, so she went to open the door, smiling when she saw Chris.

“Oh, you should let him do it. Come on in, she’s almost ready.”

Chris stepped into the room, immediately seeing you as soon as he got through the doorway. His jaw seemed to hit the floor, eyes widening as he took in your appearance.

“Baby, you’re stunning.”

You smiled at him, waving him over.

“Can you finish zipping up my dress?”

He nodded, immediately moving behind you and making sure that he didn’t pinch your skin as he slid the zipper up to the top of the slit of your dress. He noticed the dress was backless, and he would’ve lied if anyone had pointed out that his hands were shaking. He couldn’t believe that he had gotten so incredibly lucky. He didn’t know what he had done in one of his past lives to deserve such a perfect person in his life, but he would do it a million times over if it meant that he got to have you for eternity. You sat down in your desk chair to put on your heels, and when you were struggling a little bit, he didn’t hesitate to crouch down and help you, since your dress was making it difficult for you to see the straps on them. He stood back up, offering you his hand, and pulled you into a kiss the second you were steadily on your feet. He smiled, pulling back, eyes looking directly into yours.

“You’re gorgeous. I got so lucky.”

You smiled, playing with the lapels of his tuxedo.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.”

It was at this point that your roommate rolled her eyes, coughing to get you to acknowledge the fact that she was still here.

“Alright, break it up, or get out of here. Go have fun, okay?”

She pulled you into a hug, whispering a reminder to be safe, as well as a reminder that she was so happy and proud of you. Before you left, she threatened Chris that if anything happened to you, she would murder him, before you pulled him out of the door, yelling back at her to stop scaring off your dates. The walk to the fraternity house was a good time for you and Chris to spend some quiet moments together. The sun had slowly started to go down, but it was still warm enough out for you to really enjoy it all. Your anxiety was fading as you walked with him, knowing that he wouldn’t let anybody do anything to hurt you. You tried to completely squash all the remnants of your anxiety, reminding yourself that you’re going to go enjoy a party with your best friend and your boyfriend all in one, and you were going to remember it this time.

You would be a liar to say that you didn’t feel the eyes on you, that you didn’t hear some people whispering about you, but most people were very kind, a lot of the other girls at the party complimenting how beautiful your dress looked. Chris reminded you every two minutes that you looked gorgeous, placing a kiss on your head or lips every thirty seconds. It really was one of the best times you had ever experienced at a fraternity house, and you were completely sober to enjoy it all. You were on such a high from having a good time with your boyfriend that you felt like you could be drunk, like nothing could bring you down, like nothing else mattered. Walking out of the party a little early, wanting to enjoy the rest of the night privately, you two began the walk to a common green on your campus. You checked your phone, smiling when you saw a text from your roommate.

bestie <3 : i’m staying at my boyfriend’s tonight. figured you guys would want some alone time. i love you!

You showed it to Chris, noting the way he smiled at you, laughing at his boyish reaction. You spent a little more time with each other, enjoying the general peace of each other’s presence, before getting up to go home. Walking back to your dorm, giggling like school children, with your hands clasped together, you felt like there could be nothing better than this. Confirming that Chris was with you as you entered the dorm building, you both moved quickly up the stairs, you having to pause to unlock the door. He pulled you into a kiss as you entered, shutting the door behind the two of you as you both stumbled towards your bed. You were standing in front of it, breaking the kiss to breathe, and to take your shoes off, as Chris’ hands now had one holding your side, and one toying with the top of your zipper.

“Can I take this off?”

You nodded, kissing him passionately before answering.

“I only bought it for you to take it off.”

You could feel the shaky breath than left his mouth against your lips as he fumbled with the zipper slightly, finally getting it and gently but firmly pulling it down. The straps of your dress loosened around your shoulders but didn’t fall, right on the edge of slipping off, and you felt warm hands move up and slide them down, removing your dress completely as he helped you step out of it. You hadn’t needed to wear a bra with this dress, since it had internal padding, and you could hear another breath leave your boyfriend, though this time it wasn’t shaky, and instead, was one of awe. He’d seen your body before, as you’d changed with him near multiple times, and this wouldn’t be the first time that you had slept with each other, but Chris would swear that you got more beautiful the more he saw you. He adored you, every part, and he tipped your head back so that he could start placing blooming bruises on your neck, loving the way you reacted to his motions.

Your knees eventually went weak, sitting down on the edge of the bed before the two of you moved fully onto it, albeit slightly ungracefully. You weren’t very adventurous people, keeping your nights together quite simple, as Chris hovered over you, placing kisses down your chest. You pulled him off only to remove his clothes, nearly tearing them in the process. Chris’ fingers played with the hem of your underwear, slowly removing them from your legs, continuing his trail of marks all the way down to your lower stomach, right above where you were growing desperate for his touch. You lifted your hips, a small gasp leaving your lips as he gently sucked another hickey, this time on your inner thigh. He left a couple more, running the tips of his fingers over your clit, alternating gentle taps on it to listen to your pretty whimpers. When you raised your hips again, whispering a plea for him to stop teasing, he took mercy on you, moving back up to kiss you again.

He smiled against your lips as he swallowed the moan that left your lips as he used his lips to heighten the pleasure of the firm movements and pressure on your clit, caused by his thumb. He messily made out with you, making the transition from simply touching you to fingering you, starting with just one, warming you up, loving the sounds you were making, feeling them vibrate against his mouth. It wasn’t long until your hips were pushing back to meet every movement he made, and he pushed in a second finger, beginning to curl them as he detached your lips, wanting to hear all the noises leaving your mouth. He didn’t stop moving his fingers, loving how beautiful you looked when your eyes were fluttering shut, your head slightly tipped back, and your back beginning to arch. He smiled at you, kissing your neck again.

“God, baby, you’re soaked.”

You whined at his words, a little bit louder than you would have liked to, and Chris quieted you down by kissing you again, increasing the speed of his fingers, feeling your hips lift against his. It took all of his effort not to grind down against your touch, kissing you harder. He swallowed every moan and whimper that left your mouth, enjoying just how reactive you were. He kept his ministrations going until he felt you clenching around him, pulling off of your mouth to hear your moans quickly rise in pitch, before removing his touch. You whined, pushing your hips down to try and chase the feeling, but he didn’t let you.

“I want you to cum on my dick, not around my fingers.”

You pulled his body impossibly closer to you, feeling him push his boxers down to relieve some of the immense tension in his pants. He removed them as quickly as possible, adjusting how he was on top of you, a hand coming up to run his thumb along the side of your face, holding your jaw, admiring just how pretty you were under him. He’d seen this sight before, but he would never get tired of it. He brought his hand back down to rub at your clit, giving you pleasure to distract from the slight pain of him slowly pushing into you. He kissed you deeply, not daring to move faster than you were ready for. He let out a deep groan when he bottomed out, feeling you echo a moan against his lips. He stayed as still as possible, fighting the urge to bury himself in you, giving you as much time as you needed to adjust to the stretch. As soon as you gave him the okay to move, his breathing was shaky, overwhelmed by just how good you felt around him.

“Oh my god, baby.”

You could only whimper in response, the drag of his cock against every perfect spot bringing you to tears of pleasure. You felt full, your sweet spot being abused as he slowly built up his pace, gaining speed. He was groaning into the side of your neck, his hips building a steady rhythm as you fell apart on his dick. He knew exactly what angle to hit, bringing back the stimulation on your clit. As he did so, he felt you tighten around him for a split second, gasping at the unexpected pleasure that rode through him, his hips jerking of their own accord before returning to the rhythm he had set for the two of you. As his perfectly angled thrusts gained a little bit more speed, you could feel your orgasm swirling in the pit of your stomach, what felt like a coil crunching down and getting ready to snap. Chris knew the signs of you being on the edge, and he added more pressure to your clit, feeling the way you were beginning to consistently clench around him, speaking into your ear.

“So good for me, baby, make me feel so good-”

His voice broke against your ear, a whimper of his own slipping through as the rhythm of his hips began to falter. The praise that he kept trying to speak, the breathless “good girl” that slipped from his lips, did it for you. Your finish felt like it knocked the wind out of you, tightening around Chris’ dick, back arching harshly as you cried out his name. He completely lost control at this, hips desperately jerking as he chased his own release, you whining as you felt it inside of you. He was breathing heavily, but so were you, as you basked in the glow of your orgasms. After a couple of minutes, he slowly pulled out, whispering apologies as you winced in sensitivity. He kissed you to distract you, before grabbing some of the wipes off of your nightstand and beginning to gently wipe the evidence of your night off of your legs. You were exhausted from the party and now the sex, mustering up the energy to speak.

“I love you.”

He pulled back, smiling at you.

“I love you more. Let me take care of you, okay?”

His aftercare was short but sweet, rubbing your legs so that they hopefully wouldn’t ache too much in the morning, carrying you to the bathroom where he sat you down on the toilet, gently helping you and himself clean off with a damp washcloth after you peed. You were both spent, and a shower could wait until the morning, but at least this way you weren’t tired and gross. He had you back in bed quickly, but not before helping you into some soft clothes. He had a couple pairs of sweats, boxers, and shirts at your dorm, so he pulled clothing back on, pulling you into his arms and kissing the top of your head. You laid in comfortable silence before he spoke, the last thing that would be said before you fell asleep.

“I love that dress.”

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inkskinned · 1 year

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im gonna start a fight; and, at the same time, i need you to take this in the most good-faith way possible, but:

videos that involve body-checking and intentionally (and uncritically) show a mealplan of an unhealthy number of calories are just a revamped version of pro-ana food diaries.

and yeah, i know there's arguments. i address some of them under the cut. but at the end of the day, we're just coming back to romanticizing mental illness; we've just found a better platform for it.

this is already something we've done. we knew it was wrong and tried to stop it. and tbh. it just wasn't enough.

there are people who argue "well, what if you have an eating disorder, you can't help it if you don't eat!" except that as someone with an ED; we are not infants. we know what we're doing. part of having an ED is that you are like, maybe too self-aware. even if we can't help our own food choices, we don't need to fucking romanticize the disorder - something we've been warning you about since 2013. there are hours of setup, filming, and editing that go into these videos. they do not happen to fall into place randomly. there is a reason they are pieced together to be beautiful, bright, inspiring.

there's this woman who pretty much only posts daily plans under a normal amount of calories, and everyone defends her saying but it's better than nothing! and i'm like. except she opens those with images of her showing off her body and provides no context in the video or caption that suggests that she believes what she's doing is unhealthy. she has hundreds of thousands of followers on a platform designed for young kids and teens. i refuse to believe that by accident her content just happens to be cheery advice on "healthy" versions of starving.

for any other symptom of mental illness, we would be incredibly enraged by this kind of placid acceptance of a "tips and tricks" fast-start guide. imagine if people posted pink & pretty videos saying "best places to cut yourself" as if it was a fucking storytime. we, as a society, are so fucking fatphobic that we would rather accept blatantly harmful displays of self harm than admit that we are obsessed with a hyper-thin body type.

i am not suggesting someone never talks about their disorder. i talk about mine. actually, it's a plot point in my book.

here's the difference: i recognize it's a fucking mental illness. i am very careful to never mention a specific weight, eating pattern, or calorie plan. i always make sure to position it as something that ruined my fucking life. i do not put cheery music in the background and hearts and sparkles over my worst moments. i do not film it in bright light. i do not start each passage with an image of a thin body followed by "here's how to look like her."

eating disorders should not be framed as aspirational. and the problem is that society worships the "after" image, so long as you don't get too sick. there is a reason so many people who quit being "influencers" will later admit - i wasn't eating well that whole time; an obsession with food was completely destroying my life.

we let any uncredited, uncertified person write the most backwards, fucked up shit about how to get the body you desire! because the underlying, secret belief is: well, at least they're thin! and the real thing that fucking gets me each time - they make fucking money off of it. their irresponsibility and societal harm literally pays off for them.

"why do you care so much." "don't like it don't look." "so what if people experiment with new ways of thinking of food?"

thank you for asking. we're about to get extremely personal. it's because when i was 18 i discovered "thinspiration"/"thinspo." and it absolutely influenced, shaped, and codified my pre-existing eating disorder. i went from having some troubling habits and traits to being incredibly unwell within what felt like a matter of days. there were actual pages designed to train me on how to have an ED correctly. it was all so suddenly easy. i was sick; and the nature of the illness meant - i wanted to be sicker.

it takes an average of 7 years for a person to fully recover. i know this personally - even now, 10 years from the worst of it, i still fucking struggle. i am so much happier now and i eat what i want and i literally don't think about food at all (19 year old me would shudder) and yet - i still fucking know the calories of plain toast with butter.

an eating disorder is one of the deadliest types of mental illness. over 1 in 4 people with an ED will attempt suicide.

and i'm sorry. i just do not see the exchange rate of "high rate of engagement" versus "the value of a human life."

#and there's something else in there about like ....#tbh once i got over something like 1k followers #i stopped being specific about my ED for a REASON.#yes on ur personal locked blog that u use like a diary go ahead etc #but we are OBVIOUSLY not talking about that. we're talking about the sheer NUMBER of people i could be talking about #in that one paragraph. that you and i probably were thinking about 2 different influencers #bc they get to say that they're just posting FITNESS and if it's FITNESS it's OKAY and im like #jesus christ lord almighty #every person in recovery from an ED: this is incredibly dangerous holy shit do you know how much this would have triggered me #each of these ppl: how dare you!!!!!!!!! i am only harming those who WANT to engage with my content!!!!!#their followers: leave them alone !!! they can't help that they make an hours-long choice to frame their disorder as if it was #fucking cottagecore !!!!#like girlie this person needs THERAPY #again! i didn't even have that large of a following before i IMMEDIATELY deleted any specific mention of calories food etc #bc i recognize responsibility and i didnt EVER want to even ACCIDENTALLY encourage this #and im not even GETTING PAID FOR THIS!!!#aND THEY ARE!!!#something something something they know this content makes them money #they don't give a SHIT about u babe

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blegh-110 · 2 years

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Have I found you, flightless bird? (1/?)

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Tangerine x Fem!Reader

Summary: A compulsive psychopath takes an interest in you and will do anything to have you all to himself.

Chapter Warnings: Stalking, bullying, obsessive behavior, criminal activity, murder, violence, bad parents (let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 8.1k

A/N: Yeah so I thought I wasn’t going to be able to finish this until Wednesday, but I was surprisingly able to write. This is the very first time I am writing a fan fictions, so I’m begging on my knees for you to be nice and respectful. This first chapter is really going to be backstory and setting the scene. And please keep in mind Tangerine’s accent, it makes the reading fun. It’s also unedited. Happy reading! :)

There were no words to describe the ache and tiredness in your body as you slowly walked towards the train station. Your day at work was awful to say the least, with the amount of extremely rude customers and your masochist co-workers, you had broken down in the freezer of the fancy restaurant three times. Each silent cry had made you increasingly tired, both mind and body, so you wanted nothing more than to crawl into your bed and let it all out.

Unfortunately, that would not happen for a while, as you lived a long distance away from your workplace. The reminder of this had almost made the tears in your eyes fall in frustration, but by some miracle, you took a deep breath and kept them at bay.

You breathed a sigh of happiness as you spotted the Bullet Train and almost started crying again, but out of relief instead of tiredness. You were excited when the train was first built, it was marketed as the fastest train in the world, which meant you would get to your small apartment in about an hour instead of two. The train was also incredibly nicer than the one before it; the seats were more comfortable with the hard plastic traded in for fabric, there was a nice woman who served snacks and drinks every thirty minutes, it was cleaner, and just overall better.

One perk about your job was that all workers received a Bullet Train card with unlimited rides, which you were thankful for. The regular cost of going back and forth between your work and home everyday was far too expensive. There was also a discount for the snacks and drinks the woman brings around, which you would often take advantage of to keep yourself awake for the ride home.

You quickened your steps as you got closer to the train, wanting to sit down, eat a fish-shaped biscuit, and get out of the harsh, cold wind. Which reminded you of another thing; you needed to get another jacket, the one who had on was doing absolutely nothing to shield you from the weather.

Although there were many negatives for you living on your own in Japan, the one positive was that you were away from your family, as harsh as that may sound. Your mother and father weren’t particularly happy to hear that you were studying abroad in Japan, then again, they were never happy nor satisfied with anything you did. No matter how hard you tried at anything, they never showed any interest or care, they were always too caught up in each other.

They fought. A lot. And that messed you up badly. From the shouting and door slamming, to one of them being gone for days at a time because they couldn’t stand the other. It all took place at night, which made you nervous to fall asleep. You were awakened countless times in the middle of the night to your mother and father shouting at one another, it had made you anxious to fall asleep and frightened of loud noises. Then the morning would come, where they would act like nothing had happened and like they did not just traumatize their child. And it would start all over again the next week.

The worst part was that you didn’t know how not normal all that was. After complaining to your mother that you don’t like them fighting and going away, she would respond with, “Couples fight, it’s normal.”

No comfort or solace to your distress and anxiety. And you went on with your day, shaken up from the events but it was ingrained into your head that there was nothing to be upset about because couples screaming and throwing things and leaving is normal.

As you stepped onto the train, the warm air and clean smell made you feel better emotionally. Only an hour of waiting, and you would be in your apartment and mattress on the floor. You sat down and got comfortable, not noticing the blue eyes staring at the back of your head from the door.

—

Two Months Prior

You sat motionless in your seat, getting lost in the blur of the world through the window. It was an easy way to turn off your brain for a small while and just stare at the many lights and people, it was nice. But you were pulled back to reality when you heard another voice with a thick accent.

“Fuckin’ hell, stupid asshole. I can’t get a fuckin’ break with this prick, I swear.”

Your eyes widened at the man’s language as you heard his heavy footsteps come closer, only for him to stop abruptly when he noticed you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I–” The man paused when he got a good look at you, and you didn’t notice it, but he was transfixed by you. And the feeling was mutual. You had never seen such a gorgeous and handsome man as the one standing in front of your seat. His frame was huge, covered by a pretty blue suit and eyes, his hair was medium length and slicked back. But what really got your attention, surprisingly, was his thick mustache. You were never really attracted to mustaches, much less the 90’s pornstache, but it was the cherry on top of all his good looks. While you were mesmerized by him, he had gotten a hold of his words and continued.

“I didn’t see there was a lady in here, my apologies for my language, love.” He said softly and walked away quickly, leaving you in a small daze. The combination of his looks and change from a harsh to a gentle tone gave you butterflies, the thought of someone changing their whole demeanor to make you comfortable was nice.

And love. He had called you love. Love. Love. Love

Although the interaction lasted not even fifteen seconds, you were replaying it all in your head and analyzing every small detail, not wanting to forget the small amount of time that someone extremely attractive gave you the tiniest amount of attention, respectfully.

You had forgotten about him throughout the next few days as you had more important things to think about. The same could not be said for him.

He had the tendency to be compulsive and take stuff, taking what he wanted as soon as he saw it without asking and no apologies. He liked the thrill of stealing, it gave him a sense of accomplishment for outsmarting the owner or the system, it was an addicting feeling for his ego.

And other times, most times, it was for no reason and his body worked faster than his brain, going immediately for the item without thinking. Soon enough his brain turns on and he asks himself why he did it, which is then followed by a short scolding from his brother. Through it all, he never really regrets taking what he wants, it was just another thing for him to mess with and kill time, and maybe be of use.

But this was said for small, unimportant items; snacks, toys, pens. But never was he interested in taking a person. In fact, he was really never interested in people anyway, the only exception was his brother. And now, apparently you ever since that first interaction.

It was very late in the night when that happened. Someone had taken the suitcase filled with money from him and his brother, and their stress would only increase when their employer would check up on them and make sure they had the money. So he was on the lookout for the one who had taken it.

His focus should’ve solely been on the job, and murdering the thief with his bare hands, but his mind would wander to the pretty girl he saw earlier. He had seen many different people in his life, but something inside, the compulsive part, wanted you. And like the previous times he’d taken something, there really was no reason why he wanted you, he just did.

As he walked away, his mind and body were screaming to go back, toss you over his shoulder and continue on. But he was on a very serious mission, and he didn’t want anything to happen to you. He eventually got the suitcase back, shooting the man who had taken it. Before going back to the carriage he was sitting in, he would have to pass you again. He quickly went to the small bathroom, wiped the blood off his face, fixed his hair, and smoothed out his suit.

To say he was disappointed when you didn’t notice him the second time around would be an understatement. He was livid. How could your attention be through the window and not him? Especially when he went out of his way to look decent for you? That would need to change, he thought to himself as he slammed the briefcase on the table and sat down. The carriage he was in was next to yours, so he had the perfect view of the back of your head if he looked through the glass window of the door. As he was thinking of different ways to snatch you without anybody noticing, his brother came into view, sitting across from him.

“Oh, good. You’ve got the case. I was getting worried there for a second. You really are a right Thomas, Tangerine. Hardworking and cheeky and all that, you know, you should try to watch it sometime. You barely sat through the fir–”

“Lemon, could you shut the fuck up right now? I can hardly hear myself think with that shit your talking about-”

“How could I forget your kindness and compassion? Jesus, I don’t remember Thomas being a massive dickhead-”

“And I don’t remember giving a fuck about Thomas the Tank Engine. Now, shut your mouth before I shoot m’own head off, fuckin’ twat.” Tangerine rolled his eyes and stared at you again like you would vanish into thin air if he took his eyes off you.

Lemon smiled mischievously, he loved to push Tangerine’s buttons. It was a good way to pass time and amuse himself, and he knew Tangerine didn’t mean any of the harsh words he said. Not about killing himself at least. While thinking of his next choice of words to piss him off more, he noticed that look in his brother’s eyes. The one where he was ready to pounce, attack, then kill.

He got nervous, wondering if Tangerine hadn’t finished the job and failed to kill whoever took the briefcase. Lemon followed his eyes and they landed on you in the next carriage.

“That the one who took the briefcase?” Lemon asked, ready to put a bullet in your head, he was already standing up. “What, no-”

“Don’t worry, you sit tight and I’ll get the fucker.” Lemon whipped out his gun and almost made it to the door when he was suddenly tugged back down so roughly that he almost fell to the ground. “What the fuck are you doin’? Sit back down, you wanker. She didn’t take the case.” Tangerine hissed and released his deathly grip on Lemon’s jacket with a shove.

“I said sit back down, asshole. God, do you ever think before pulling out a gun and shooting the first person you see?”

“I don’t know, do you ever stop and think before you take something and shove it up your ass? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were ready to kidnap that woman.” One thing Lemon was exceptional at was reading people like they were an open book, a skill taught to him by Thomas the Tank Engine. Which meant he could easily see that that was what Tangerine was currently planning on.

“C’mon, mate. You can’t be seri– you better be pulling my dick.” Lemon whispered, taken aback by his brother’s actions. He knew very well of Tangerine’s compulsive stealing, and he knew he was good at it. It came in handy when they needed to steal something important for their missions. And despite slapping Tangerine’s wrist when he would commit petty theft or larceny, it was slightly entertaining. And the times he did kidnap someone, they would plan it together and execute it together, but only if they were relevant to their missions. And you were not relevant to them at all.

“No, I know, I know.” Tangerine sat back down with surrending hands in the air, knowing what he was thinking was fucked up. That didn’t mean Lemon wasn’t going to put salt in the wound and rub it in.

“That is a real fuckin’ person right there, not one of your stupid bubbly waters or Momomon stuffed animals.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Tangerine defeatdly said and put his head in his hands, disappointed in his own thoughts and wants. Lemon sighed, he knew Tangerine didn’t want to feel this way, but he couldn’t help it. So he decided to save time and do what he always did, help his brother.

“Why do you want this girl?” Lemon knew he wouldn’t receive a proper and detailed answer. Therefore, the shrug he got was no surprise. But he wouldn’t let Tangerine go through with the kidnapping without properly processing his thoughts.

“I don’t know, mate. You should’ve seen her. She looked so wretched and miserable and sad, I just want the poor little thing. It was like staring at a bunny that was run over and shot at.”

“Well, this could just be a bad day for her. Maybe she isn’t so sad all the time.”

“But what if she is?”

“Then she’ll get through it like all the adults in the world.”

“What if it’s too much for her?”

“What if what’s too much for her?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know!”

“And that’s the issue, Tangerine. You don’t know fuck about her and you want to save her or some shit. See if you really want her and you’re not going to toss her aside when the thrill is over, then you can be a fuckin’ hero or whatever.” Tangerine nodded his head as he watched you buy a fish shaped biscuit and a strawberry soda.

Lemon made some good points. Tangerine would need to know if what he was feeling wasn’t temporary, so he waited a week to see if his feelings had changed for you. And they hadn’t, they had only gotten stronger.

He woke up alone thinking of you wrapped up safely in his arms, to feeding you a healthy breakfast when he ate by himself, to jumping in his arms when he came back home from work, to fucking you when he was back in bed with his hand wrapped around his cock. And all these thoughts only increased when he saw the state of your life.

After Tangerine realized he wanted to keep you, he shamelessly watched your every move for the next two months. He followed you to your apartment and to the exact number you were staying at. Because of your long hours at work and staying awake on the train, you were too sleepy to use all your senses to their full capacity. Tangerine shook his head at how you didn’t notice him following you, anyone could just come up to you and shove you into their room. Silly girl, he thought, you won’t have to feel this way anymore when I get my hands on you.

Next, after Tangerine found out your living place, he actually broke his way in after you had left for work, this time with Lemon. Your apartment was easy to get into, all he had to do was jiggle the knob a few times and roughly kick it open.

“What a fuckin’ shit hole, mate, she really lives here?” Lemon scrunched his nose at the stained brown walls and dirty carpet. He was also surprised at how small your place was and how little furniture you had. “Good god, her fuckin’ couch is missing a two of its feet and a cushion. This is no way to live, tsk, tsk.”

“Lemon, you’ve amputated limbs and killed people, and this has you shocked? I’d appreciate it if you’d shut the fuck up and help me out, yeah?” Tangerine said, making his way to your room.

“What exactly am I helping you out with?” He asked, turning around to the tiny kitchen and opening the fridge.

“Anything about her really, I just want to get to know her.” Tangerine shouted while studying your bedroom, trying to get a feel for your personality and what you like. A butterfly comforter with matching pillows but the mattress was on the floor, I’ll buy a similar bed set and you’ll sleep in my arms in an actual bed. Lots of books piled in the corner, I’ll get you the biggest bookshelf I can and I’ll start reading as well. Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury. The Awakening, Kate Chopin. A Room of One’s Own, Virginia Woolf. Tangerine focused on memorizing each novel and its authors.

Next to your books were your CD’s. Tangerine did the same thing, taking the time to memorize your favorite artists and their albums. Next, he opened your closet, not much was there except five plain t-shirts and two pairs of jeans. And that was it. There wasn’t much else to do in your room as there were literally only a few items. And it took everything in him to stop himself from taking anything.

“And you think breaking into her house and snooping around is the way to do that?” Lemon snorted, snapping Tangerine out of thoughts. “Shit, man, does she eat? There’s nothing in here but water, butter, and tangerines-... tangerines. It must be fate.” His brother ignored him, heading to the bathroom where he found a toothbrush, toothpaste, cleanser, deoderant, shampoo, conditioner, and bodywash.

“Oh, I know why now. Her job doesn’t pay shit.” At this, Tangerine walked back to the living room to find Lemon holding what he assumed to be your paycheck.

“Lemme set that,” And he snatched the paper from his hand, “Y/N L/N. She works at Kaiseki Ryori. That’s like two hours away from here, what is she doing there?” Tangerine asked himself. That’s why you looked so tired. After a whole day of work you had to wait another two hours before getting home, wait no, one hour because of the Bullet Train.

After snooping around some more, Lemon reminded Tangerine that they had some business to attend to, some people to assassinate. On the way there, Tangerine was thinking of his next move, and he decided that going to your workplace would be good.

But he would have to wait another week as him and Lemon were piled with work to do. But that didn’t stop Tangerine from making sure you got home safely. Only a few nights allowed him to get on the Bullet Train and sit a few seats behind you, where he noticed you really enjoyed eating fish shaped biscuits and some sort of fruity soda, the flavor always changed.

Alternatively, if he didn’t have enough time to ride with you, he would break into your apartment in the middle of the night, to again, make sure you got back safely. But he could hardly do either because he had his own work to do and he couldn't afford to check in on you every night. So he installed a tiny camera in your living room, which was difficult to hide because you had barely anything in your apartment. He was about to put the second camera in your bedroom, but decided against it, he didn’t want to be too invasive.

A month had passed and he was glad he installed the cameras, it really was much easier to see if you were in your apartment through his phone. He smiled at your sleepy state going to the kitchen and eating a tangerine, thinking you were the most adorable person he had ever seen.

He was sitting outside across from your complex. He had finally had a day off and planned on watching you some more, this time at your workplace, Kaiseki Ryori. While waiting, he watched you get ready through the phone.

Although Tangerine found your tiredness cute, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for you having to get up extremely early for work. And also the fact that you don’t eat much for breakfast because you couldn't afford anything else besides fruit and water.

This will change soon when you have me, darling. I’ll have a nice, big breakfast ready for you when you wake up every morning.

He had also made up his mind about you working in your soon to be relationship, you simply were not going to. You weren’t going to do anything but be his and only his. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious about your job.

He watched as you walked through your apartment door. Tangerine turned his phone off and waited for you to exit the complex. Just then, his phone had alerted him that he had gotten a message from Lemon.

🍋: how’s it going? Did you get your ticket

🍊: pretty good, just waiting for her to come out of her building. Then I’m following her to Kaiseki Ryori. And yes I got my ticket

🍋: how romantic, just don't let her see you

🍊: no fucking shit, I’d be stupid to let that happen

He rolled his eyes and put his phone away when he heard the doors open, his heart stuttering at the sight of you as well as hurting when he saw that you were obviously freezing cold in your thin jacket. Tangerine didn’t want to get too close in fear of being seen by you, so he waited until you turned a corner to start trailing behind.

Various bakeries and cafes were open, one of them he saw you going into for the first time, staring wide eyed at the fresh pastries. You were in there for only a few minutes, chatting with the male barista behind the counter. Whom, Tangerine will admit, was quite attractive and way too close to you and smiling way too much. He watched as you laughed at something the man said, Tangerine’s anger was increasing as the seconds went by. Shouldn’t your fucking drink be ready by now? How can you even afford that shit anyway with your pay?

Just as he was about to enter the cafe and shoot the barista between his eyes, Tangerine’s phone range. Fucking Lemon again.

“What the fuck do need that’s so fuckin’ important?” Tangerine hissed into the phone and placed his gun back into his pocket as he continued to stare at the two of you having a lovely time talking about whatever. He started to calm down as he saw the barista finally give you your food and drink. You walked out of the cafe with a small smile as the hot drink warmed up your hands.

“Calm down, mate. I was calling to tell you about her boss, it’s not good.” At this, Tangerine‘s full attention was on his brother. But as soon as you were a good distance away, he walked into the cafe. “Hold on.”

“Good morning, what can I get for you?” The barista, Axel, his nametag wrote, said with a smile. Stupid fuckin’ name.

“I’ll just have whatever the last person had.” Tangerine said, rolling his eyes, his anger and annoyance rising again for having to talk to Axel.

“Okay, that’s a chocolate croissant and a small caramel macchiato, is that goo-”

“Yes, that’s fuckin’ fine,” He couldn’t stand hearing him talk, he wished Lemon hadn’t called so he could’ve shot Axel and his stupid face. He spoke to Lemon “Alright, what did you find?”

“Who are you talking to? Do you need me to come down there?”

“No, Lemon, I’m fine. I won’t fuckin’ ask again, what did you find on her boss?” Tangerine was full-on irritated. And swearing in every sentence he said showed that. He just wanted to get to you as quickly as possible, but what's-his-face and Lemon were in the way of that. Even though they really weren’t doing anything. When Tangerine was mad, he took it out on everything.

“Shit, alright. I found that this man, Akihito, has a criminal record. Robbery, grand theft auto, harrassment, fucking manslaughter, and the list goes on, mate.”

“Jesus fucking christ, alright. I’ll deal with the asshole later. Can you hurry the fuck up, please? I’ve got shit to do.” He yelled at the worker, who scrambled to pour milk in his caramel macchiato.

“It’s ironic since the guy’s name means brightness and compassion, I’ll tell you Tangerine, he’s no Thom-”

“Lemon, if you mention that shit show again, I swear the next time I see you, I’ll shove my gun up your ass and shoot. And I’ll do it with a fuckin’ smile on my face.” Then he hung up with an annoyed groan.

“H-here you go, sir.”

“Where the fuck is my croissant, I swear to god-” Tangerine wanted to smash this guy’s head onto the counter as he watched the man hurriedly grab his pastry and place it in a bag. Can he do anything right, what do you see in him? It better be nothing, love.

“Thank you for takin’ your sweet fuckin’ time, mate, I really appreciate it, ya cunt.” Tangerine snatched the bag and drink, surely crushing his croissant, and quickly made his way out the door before he heard a quiet mutter. “Asshole.”

Tangerine froze with his hand on the door and snapped inside, he was filled with so much rage that he could feel his face flush and heart beat. He slowly took his hand off the bar of the door and turned around, seeking just a small bit of joy out of the pure terror on Axel’s face.

“I beg your pardon… what did you call me? Because if I heard your correct, you called me an asshole. And that’s a lot of nerve for someone who works minimum fuckin’ wage, how about you do your fuckin’ job right and I won’t shoot you, hm?” Tangerine pulled out his gun and held it to Axel’s forehead.

At this point, Tangerine’s words were shot to kill. He didn’t care if Axel or another customer would call the cops. His patience had quickly worn thin and he wanted to make Axel pay for it.

Axel nodded his head with tears in eyes and violently shook from fear. Tangerine hummed, satisfied, but still held the gun up.

“What’s that right there?” Tangerine motioned his head to the glass cabinet. “T-that’s daifuku, sir.”

Tangerine shook his head, urging him to continue while he cocked his gun, “Yeah, and what the fuck is it, c’mon I already told you I don’t have all day.”

Axel’s tears flowed down his face and his breathing stuttered as he tried to keep himself composed, “it’s m-mochi stuffed with anko and d-different fillings including, strawberries, jam, or coffee-flavored filling.”

“Gimme the coffee-flavored one,” Tangerine said and kept his eyes on Axel the entire time, he wanted to pressure him more in case he messed up again. Then he’ll have more reason to keep on torturing him. When he got his treat, he put his gun back into his jacket pocket, but not before taking the stack of napkins on the counter.

“I’m not paying for it, asshole,” And he walked out and looked at his surroundings, making sure no one saw the whole exchange, “miracle no one saw that.” And he finally made his way to the Bullet Train.

When he got there, he noticed you sitting through one of the windows, eating your croissant and sipping your drink, still with tired eyes. And once again, Tangerine was swooning. His bad mood slipped away with every step he took.

Tangerine did what he always did when he got on the train with you, stay far away enough to keep an eye on you. And that was it. For the whole hour the train traveled, all he did was watch you. And while he felt happy to see you, you dreaded going to work.

For the whole time you worked there, the ride to Kaiseki Ryori filled your stomach with an anxious burn that stayed there until you clocked out. Then you would sit back on the train, exhausted but thankful that the day was over. But then reminded that you would have to go in the next day, and then the next, and then the next. And the anxiousness as well as the depression would return.

You often wondered when your life would change for the better. When would you finally save enough money to buy a new, bigger, cleaner place? When would you find a new job that didn’t make you cry everyday in the bathroom? When would you meet a group of people that could be your friends?

You just wanted to feel content when you woke up. But you awake thinking God, I have to do this all again?

You thrived on praise, on people telling you that you were doing a great job. It gave you a small push of confidence that led to you feeling good about yourself and made you willingly work harder. But with no friends or decent people around you to give you support, it was impossible to feel positive and optimistic.

Along with this, you were incredibly lonely in the love department. Not only did you want someone to love and appreciate you, you wanted to give love to someone else so desperately. Someone who would do anything and everything just to see you. This would also give you another reason to be happy. Since you came to Japan, there has been an empty hole in your chest waiting to be fulfilled with the love you felt for someone.

This combination of low self-esteem and loneliness, as well as the lack of money, made it difficult for you to go out and enjoy yourself. There were a few times when you mustered up the courage to get out of the safety and familiarity of your apartment and go to one or two shops, but that was only two or three times a month. You would go straight back to your small apartment after seeing a group of friends that were your age eating and laughing together, happy together. The same thing was said when you saw a happy couple walking down the street, holding hands and staring at another with so much love that you felt a mixture of jealousy and nausea.

If these didn’t make you feel bad about yourself, then going to your favorite shops and seeing that you couldn’t afford anything made you go back. You would get overwhelmed seeing a beautiful dress or a cute t-shirt, and knowing you didn’t have enough money for it. Or a book you’ve been wanting to read or the newest phone or a better stereo for your cd’s or a flat screen tv.

There were even times when you didn’t even make it to the next street because you felt as if everyone knew how pitiful your life was and they were laughing at your misery. Those days were especially bad. You would go back to your apartment, crawl into bed and cry for hours. Crying because you felt pathetic for not even being able to walk down the street, crying because you had no one to wrap their arms around you, crying because there was no one in your life to tell you that it will eventually get better and that you were a strong person to get out of bed everyday and face a mean world.

Tangerine knew of your many crying sessions, it shattered his heart into a million pieces everytime he heard your choked sobs and stuttered breathing. It somehow hurt even more not being able to see you, as you were in your room, he couldn’t even see the state of your agony and pretend he was there. Lemon would have to hold him down and stop him from running to your complex, breaking in, and giving you the love you craved.

You sighed heavily when you realized the train had slowed down at your stop. The mental preparation on the way there was never enough, you could already feel the headache on its way and the exhaustion deep in your bones.

The walk to Kaiseki Ryori was hard. You knew what was to come in about ten minutes, that’s why you took your time walking. But you always felt guilty for this. Although you weren’t treated nicely at work, something inside your head reprimanded you if you decided to give yourself a break. It was your brain telling you that you didn’t deserve to be selfish for even a few minutes, maybe it was the pressure you and others put upon yourself in highschool to always work to your fullest extent. And that no one got anywhere in life if they decided to take a minute for themselves.

You arrived at the restaurant and you saw two of the cooks walking together. They saw you and you immediately wanted the ground to swallow you.

“Hey, Y/N. Really cold out today, huh? I really like your jacket by the way.” One of them said with a smile on their face while the other one snickered. You gave them a tight lipped smile. You weren’t stupid, you knew they were actually making fun of you. And it sucked knowing you couldn’t call them out on it because they were being passive aggressive. If you dared talk back, they would make themselves a victim and say they were only giving you a compliment and that you should be thankful, and you would look like the asshole.

Then they would run to the boss and say you were being rude to them, and you would get called into his office for a little chat about your future working at Kaiseki Ryori. This chat included Akihito telling you that you need to be nicer to your co-workers or you would be fired. He also told you the first time that you needed to be a better waitress, and he sent you on your way back with no advice on how to become better.

“I’ll get the door for you, Y/N, there you go.” The other cook smiled and held it open for you and you knew what they were about to do. “No, thanks. I’ve got it.”

“Y/N, you’ve had this talk before, don’t be ungrateful and I won’t tell Akihito.” God, they were like fourth graders that never grew up, you thought. How could they be so immature and nasty at their age, they were older than you and acted this way.

You sighed in defeat and walked through the door. Even though they have done this countless times, your heart always stopped when one of them stepped on the back of your shoe roughly and made you fall on your hands and knees on the dirty floor of the kitchen. This time, your boss had walked by. You were hopeful he saw the whole situation and would finally believe your claims that your co-workers bullied and messed with you on the daily. But the two cooks squeezed the tops of your arms in tight grip that made you wince, and pulled you back up on your feet.

“Y/N, oh my, god! You need to be careful or you're really going to hurt yourself one of these days.” One of them said with a faux pout and a worried voice that was too realistic. You huffed with tears in your eyes from the pain of landing on the hard ground and because of the humiliation. Your knees still hadn’t healed from the last time they did this a few days ago, and because they do this so often, your knees were always a shade of dark blue and purple.

Tangerine was fuming at his spot across the street. He had watched the whole thing unfold and wanted to go up to the two cooks and kill them. Drag a blade across their neck and watch as they bled to death and choked on their own blood. Maybe kidnap them and set them on fire, have them die slowly and painfully. Then he thought of a better idea, one that required a certain venomous snake. He decided he had seen enough and left to begin executing his plan. But it had killed him to walk away from you.

“You two are very kind to help her, now get to cleaning. The one who closed last night didn’t properly clean the place and I need you three to do it.” Akihito didn’t even bother to ask if you were alright, focusing his attention and gratitude to the two on either side of you. Sometimes you thought that he was in on the harassment, turning a blind eye at first, maybe giving the bare minimum of care, then laughing in private.

“But we need to prepare the food, Akihito! And you know how long that takes!” The one on your left whined in a way that hurt your ears. He nodded his head before he said, “Yes, I understand. Go on then.”

The two released their bruising grip and walked away, leaving you alone with the boss. He looked at you in irritation, “Well get to work miss L/N! I’m not paying you to be absolutely useless.” And he walked away. Although he left, you nodded your head.

The next thirty minutes were spent with you, once again, trying to keep your hot tears from falling. Which made it even more difficult to wipe down the counters and sweep the floor because the tears blurred your vision. And you didn’t want to wipe them away because it would give it away that you were crying, even though a few people already knew. And some of them did feel bad for you, but they didn’t want to risk being another victim alongside you.

You sighed heavily before putting on your apron with shaky arms. Kaiseki Ryori had opened barely ten minutes ago and tables were already filled with customers. You felt an extra long day hurdling at you and there was nothing you could do but get through it with as little damage as possible.

Surprisingly, it was not as bad as other days, it was pretty normal. Your co-workers, especially the cooks, liked to mess with you for entertainment; giving you the wrong meals and purposely messing up the food because they knew the customer always blamed the waitress and not the cooks. In the end, the customers always cursed you out for not doing your job correctly.

As soon as your very long shift was over, you bolted through the kitchen, shoved the door open, and started your journey back to the bullet train. Before you left, you had wanted to steal a small bag of ice to put on your bruised knees, but the first time you tried that, you were stopped by one of the cooks because according to them, “We can’t waste any food.”

While you got comfortable on the train, Tangerine was in the middle of buying some Boomslang venom from The Hornet. Who was as annoying and difficult to negotiate with as others say. But he eventually got the venom and quickly made his way back to Kaiseki Ryori, where he saw the two cooks leaving. Perfect.

The next few days at work were great. The two cooks who participated the most in making your life miserable had not shown up, which made your days significantly easier to get through. But you couldn’t help but feel a little strange. As horrible as they were, they took their work seriously and would rather die than miss a day of work at Kaiseki Ryori.

Your relief was soon taken away and replaced with terror when Akihito informed the staff why they had been missing. According to him, they were just found dead in their homes. You felt sick as he gave the gruesome details; blood had come out of their eyes, nose, and mouth. And their throats were swollen and closed up. Your mind had begged him to stop talking when he kept going, “Yeah, I guess one of them fell down and completely broke their neck and cracked their skull. It’s horrible.”

What happened next made you scared to even come out of your apartment. Akihito was murdered the same way as the cooks.

Your emotions were everywhere. How were you supposed to feel? You were ecstatic to never work with them ever again, but that was only because they were dead. You felt guilty and disgusting for even being just a little bit joyful to never see them again.

Kaiseki Ryori got a new boss immediately and he gave everyone a day off. Which was not enough. How could anyone go back after they had just found out their co-workers died grotesquely? But they did, and it scared you how normal they seemed. You were still shaken up and had questions and concerns.

Who did this to them? Why? Am I a target? I need to be more careful when going back home. And I really need to get a new lock for my door. But I don’t have the money for that.

Also, when you say things went back to normal, that also meant they still continued tormenting you as well. You thought the murder of the two cooks would for some reason stop them.

Through all of this, you just felt confused and lost. What made it worse was that you had no idea what to do and had no way to communicate your jumbled thoughts. On top of that, your parents kept trying to call you, but you would let the phone ring until they got the hint that you were “busy”, and they would stop calling. It was always hard to get through their calls, but at the moment, you were in no state of mind to deal with them. But with each call you chose to ignore, the more anxious you got because you knew their anger increased each time they couldn’t get a hold of you. It had finally got to the point where you couldn’t let it go on anymore, so you picked up your phone and dialed your father’s number with shaky hands.

“God, please don’t pick up, please don’t pick up, please.” You hoped and prayed they were actually busy, unlike you.

“Wow, she finally has some goddamn time to talk to her parents.” Your father said with an annoyed tone. You wanted to throw yourself out of your window.

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve just been a little busy with stuff. Sorry, dad.”

“Busy with what? Last time we talked, you were a waitress not someone of importance to the world.”

“I know, but I’ve just had stuff to do-”

“Stuff more important than your parents?”

“No, I-”

“Is that Y/N? Give me the phone” You heard your mother yell and you cringed. Not ready for her unwanted subtle views and judgements of your life. The conversation went smoothly at first, but you tensely waited for some sort of remark from her.

“You know, I really don’t like the choices you’ve made, you’ve seriously messed everything up.” Your mother said bluntly. This surprised you, she usually only made a small comment that you could easily bounce off from. But she never downright told you how she felt, you only had a strong feeling.

“I really don’t want to talk about it, please.”

“Well, I surely want to talk about it, right now.”

“Mom, please, I don’t feel comfortable-”

“No, this is where you zip it and listen, Y/N. Your father and I raised you to be outstanding and extraordinary. You had the perfect grades and the ambition and the attitude. What happened to my daughter?” You had no clue what to say. What would someone reply with if their mother just told them they were no good anymore?

“I don’t know, I just got a little tired I guess.” You uttered, feeling the formation of the ball in your throat and the stinging in your eyes. You took a deep breath as quietly as possible, you didn’t want your mother to hear you crying.

“No, you got lazy and incompetent. And it was such a shame and an embarrassment to witness all your capability go down the drain. I had to- we had to watch as other parents celebrated their own children head off to college and get amazing opportunities. And what were you doing? Packing your stuff and running off without a second thought. You wasted all your potential to be a waitress? In Japan?”

“Mom, please-” Your voice wavered, the ball in your throat becoming bigger as well as the tightness in your chest. You felt yourself about to shatter with no one but you to pick up the pieces after.

“No, no, you don’t get to be upset and cry. I’m the one that should be upset! My only child left me for god knows what. Tell me.”

“What?” You whispered. You hoped you had heard wrong. This was a conversation you were not ready to have, ever.

“I said tell me. What was so wrong with your life or what you lacked in your life that you had to move away from your father and I?”

It was silent for such a long time, or maybe that’s how long it felt and it had only been a few seconds. Memories you repressed deep into your mind had floated to the surface and swallowed you whole, adding more fuel to the anxious burn in your stomach.

“I don’t know, you and dad just fought a lot and it scared me. Dad would always leave, too. I-I just became anxious around the house, a-and the pressure I felt on me made it worse. I couldn’t handle it anymore, I just had to leave, mom. I’m so sorry.” You sniffled. It hurt to talk when you wanted to let it out and cry.

“Honestly, Y/N, this is just ridiculous. I have had more than enough. Come back home right now, I mean it.” The tone in her voice was the same one she used when she wanted something done immediately. But you would rather work with the two cooks again than go back.

“Mom.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to.” You said quietly.

It was silent for a minute, then you heard some muffled noises, as well as your dad calling out for your mom. You assumed she had dropped the phone and walked away.

“Well, you’ve really hurt your mother and I, Y/N. I hope this little trip was worth the pain you have caused us.”

“Dad, please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” And he hung up.

You sat frozen on the couch and tried to keep yourself together. But you didn’t go very long and you let out a pained wail that devastated Tangerine through the camera. He had seen enough of your life and was officially done waiting, he needed to get you out of there now.

Once he had you, he would be the one who treated you like you deserved to be treated. He would hold you in his arms as you cried and with the most gentle touch, wipe away your tears. He would whisper that everything is going to be okay, comfort you with so much love that you felt safe.

He would take care of you, make you never have to worry about a single thing ever again. He also wanted to be the one who made you smile. He had only seen it a few times and your lit up face was ingrained into his brain. He wanted to read your books to you and listen to your music with you. Things Tangerine never thought he would do, he wanted to do with you. He would be that person who did anything for you, and all you had to do in return is love him. And if you didn’t, he’ll show you that he’s the one for you and vice versa.

You unknowingly owned all of Tangerine’s heart. And he wanted to own yours.

~~~

A/N: First chapter done! The next one we’ll actually see them interacting which I’m so excited to write. Comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated, they are what fuel me to keep doing this. I’ll also shave your eyebrows off if you don’t comment/reblog :)

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine imagine #tangerine fanfiction #bullet train #bullet train imagine

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rainbowchaox · 7 months

Text

Purgatory Pissa Masterpost Part 1:

Look guys Missa hasn’t streamed again since day 1 of the event! So I was thinking to make it easier for artists and fic writers to remember canon moments. And I am HAVING thoughts. And feeling the need to yet again be “normal” about my favorite cubitos.

Let’s be honest. Philza was so happy to see Missa was online it was adorable. In Philza POV he practically started the zooming into Missa from the top of the wall. HUSBAND SPOTTED! And the amount of joy between them seeing each other again! THEY MISSED EACH OTHER SO MUCH!!!

Then Missa! Finally got a little brave and practically demanded Philza to give him a HUG. And guys I squealed watching it live. And philza immediately GAVE his husband a hug. And then tubbo immediately was like “are you guys gonna kiss and shit?” And PHILZA broke. Like HMMM why you hesitating why the confusion. Like DO YOU WANNA KISS HIM YOU REPRESSED CROW-

Then we also have to talk about THAT scene. The scene where quite frankly Missa just stared at his husband pecs as Philza canonically flexed- causing Philza to quickly get shy. Missa is so down bad that even I was like “MISSA PLEASE!”. This is the same man in the same stream where he legit called a painting of Philza “papacito” which I learned is like the Spanish version of “daddy”. Which Missa was very judged by his own chat for. It was hilarious. Cubito Missa was a different breed of simping and yearning this stream. I wish I made all of this up, but nope IT HAPPENED CANONICALLY. AND THEY EXPECT ME TO BE NORMAL?!?

But what everyone should focus on the most is when cucurocho said quesadilla island was a paradise. Mr Simpfonia himself immediately agreed because and I quote “Philza is here”. THIS IS BIG! Because EVEN Missa knows the island is horrible. Chayanne is gone for Void Sakes. BUT ITS PARADISE TO MISSA BECAUSE HE LOVES PHILZA- I’m so normal about this dudes. Because even spiderbit can’t say the island is paradise because they met each other on the island, but Missa casually says it like it didn’t rewrite pissa warriors brain chemistry. Something something Philza is comfort and safety to Missa. He loves Philza so much. Truly a bleeding heart with loyalty so strong it’s titanium.

And can we all talk about how Philza when they were separated waved goodbye to Missa when Missa back was turned? Philza doesn’t show affection through words. But by actions. Something something he is already missing Missa. The tsundere crow. JUST ADMIT YOU LOVE HIM-

Also Missa before all of this showing off his aquarium apartment. And casually says “The point is so Philza doesn’t notice so we can stay close to him” BITCH ITS PHILZA AND MISSA FOR A REASON! Did you forget the double bed?!?!!!? Pissa love each other so much it’s slowly becoming a obsession. Not to mention mISSA in general hauntings Philza thoughts (dude checked the map to see Missa when he died-) we get it Philza you love him and are sad you got spilt up. ESPECIALLY BECAUSE YOU NEVER GET TO SEE YOU HUSBAND AND MISS HIM-

Another great moment is when Missa heard his own team mates saw Philza and immediately was possessive and protective DESPITE THEM ACTUALLY BEING ON ENEMY SIDES was like “No don’t hurt my man”. Missa wants his husband to be safe. And nice to know his possessive streak is healthy as ever. Philza is HIS man. I swear Missa we get it- YOU LOVE HIM. THEY MAKE ME CRAZY. And guys it was a experience watching Missa POV. Because he was ignoring all the death and chaos in the chat BUT the moment when Missa saw Philza die his whole face changed expressions. Philza was the only death he reacted too I ain’t lying.

Now for the best part of the stream, Missa causally entered the VC of red team. And I quote “I’m not part of your team but I wanna tell you I love you guys”. PHILZA IMMEDIATELY SAID I LOVE YOU BACK. Of course everyone else was suspicious of Missa being so nice and called him a manipulator while Philza immediately was like “No he wouldn’t do that”. PHILZA TRUSTS MISSA SO MUCH-

LIKE WE UNDERSTAND! You guys are always on each other minds. We were fed so much! And I can’t wait to see what other cute pissa moments we get in the future- I hope you enjoyed my rambling essay. I feel like there should be a masterpost of pissa moments in case anyone needed a refresher! Will make Part 2 once we get more cute pissa moments!

#qsmp #pissa #qsmp pissa #Deathduo #Qsmp shipping #essay #IM NORMAL OK!#pissa newspaper

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fanofstuff02 · 2 months

Text

Part 2 of Adam being stuck with Valentino AU is here. Sooner than I expected I would release, but I’m not complaining. No one is obsessed with this AU more than me >:]

Read the first part and then read this if you’d like, but this starts as more about how Adam sold his soul to Valentino. Maybe this would work better as a first chapter, idk

16+ like Hazbin, also Valentino and his behavior in general

Tags: @woah-why-i-am-here @rius-cave @talesfromawannabejournalist @candyhoiic (hope you don’t mind) @puparella @fightinsoda

Tagging everyone I saw wanting a fic about this again @i--metamorphic--i @helena-hyena

Again Tumblr, I warn people from the start. Please.

Zoe presents and wishes you an awesome day/night!

“So, let me clear the air.” Adam said, scratching the base of his horns. He was sitting on a chair at the porn producer’s office. “You offer me to play on your fuck-movies, and in return, you’ll pay me?”

“Of course! And a place to stay if you need.” Valentino said and smoked his cigarette. “You don’t have to show your face if you don’t want, pretty sure my partner can design something for you.”

The first man bit his lip as he thought about it. It didn't sound too bad. Sex was his old job anyway, why wouldn't he just let it be again? This time he would even get paid in return. He needed a well-paying job. If he didn't pay him 8,500 within a month, that red mafia prick would hang his head permanently on his wall like a fucking painting. And no one else in this goddamn place wanted to hire him. On the other hand, this guy wanted him to fuck anyone he wanted. Including guys. On camera.

“I don’t think it’s..” Valentino looked at the first man. He knew he needed to play big to get him. But he couldn’t let him slip away from his hands. He could make him rich!

“You should go if you aren’t interested. I guess I had a wrong impression about you.”

“Wait-“

“I’m deeply sorry. I thought,” He dramatically said, smoking his cigarette “The first man wouldn’t have problems with sex. I guess your tool is not that great at all.”

“Hey!” Adam said, his tool had nothing to do with that! Not to mention it was the greatest!

“No wonder both Lilith AND Eve left you. I guess Lucifer WAS better.“

“Do you DARE to question how good I’m on bed? I had a ton of fucking kids!” He growled.

“Mmhm. Sure.” Valentino grinned. He was sure that if he used the first man's old insecurities against him, he would volume down the voice of his brain’s rational part. His rage was bubbling and leading him to make the choice he wanted. He could read it all over his face. Who would’ve thought Voxxie’s cameras would actually work on important shit? He thought to himself.

“Fine. I’ll work for you. But for the record, I want on paper that I will not work without the mask.”

“Deal!” Valentino said happily, summoned a pink glowy contract out of thin air and hand it out to the sinner with a pen. Adam read it quickly, it seemed normal. A few days off a week, paying him %58 of their earnings from the movies and monthly enough amount of money and other shit. He signed his name under it and felt something inside him change. Like there was something moving. He wanted to puke, but he held back.

“Excellent!” Valentino said with a wide grin. Why was he was so fucking happy? Because he gained a new whore? He didn’t knew nor care.

“We usually start on 1 pm, but i wanna see you on 11 am here tomorrow. Don’t be late~” He purred, carresing Adam’s hair. It made him uncomfortable. Maybe this was a bad idea. Shit, it definitely was.

“Okay.” He said and walked away to the door, glad that he wasn’t near that creep anymore.

— Five months later —

“Hey Adam. Can we talk? On your room?” Valentino called for him as he entered the studio.

“What’s the matter, Val?” He spoke and he entered his dressing room with him. Their director was also there, smiling as if he knew something Adam didn’t. He hoped this wasn’t that kind of ‘talk’.

“You became quite popular in the media y’know, everyone wants to watch your films. I guess the fallen angel concept was something everyone didn’t knew they needed. Your movies almost outsell Angel Dust's.” Valentino smugly said.

“Angel Dust?” He said, surprised as he remembered the spider demon he used to wa- ahem, see on the streets of hell when he was still an angel himself. Then one day, Lucifer’s brat showed him as a proof for her stupid “redemption” idea. It didn’t seem too stupid now though, if someone could fall, maybe someone could rise too. He had a vague memory of him fighting against his army. He didn’t had a personal hatred against him, but he was hating him as equal as he hated the rest of that hotel. Maybe a little less but still.

“Yes, my dear. Angel Dust. Travis!” He called to his director. “Bring him here!”

“Okay sir!” He rushed, still grinning.

“Why did you ask him to bring him? Why is HE doing that anyway? He asked.

“Ah, there you are.” Valentino spoke softly as Travis came inside with a curious -and slightly scared- Angel Dust, ignoring him.

“Val? Why did you-“ His eyes went wide as he saw the first man standing next to his boss. He did heard about Adam working here, he was left in pure shock when he saw one of his posters. He’d never expect to see that guy as a pornstar and just hoped that he won’t stumble to him. But there he was. His surprised state became anger in a short amount of time and he bared his teeth at the other demon. Adam did the same as he gave him the finger.

“Angel, amorcito! I’m assuming you know our newest bestselling actor!“ Valentino said and he looked at their faces. “Isn’t he such a cutie?”

“What do you want me to do, Val?” Angel asked, trying to keep his calm.

“Hmm, goin straight to the point I see. Okay. Since you are the top-selling sluts I have, I want you two to make a movie together.”

“WHAT?!” They both yelled.

“I’m sorry, but I am not fucking this! I have my standarts!” Adam angrily said, pointing at Angel.

“As if I am so curious about you, dickbag!” Angel crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

“Suck your own dick!”

“Eat a horse ass!”

“Are you two done? We have a job.” Travis said, though he seemed to enjoy this. Maybe that was why he was grinning later.

“Valentino, I can’t work with him!”

“Me neither!”

“Well that’s a shame, because I want you to do so. Now get ready, my whores.” He smiled to them, although it was clear that his temper was rising. “Get out, Travis. Prepare the stage.”

“But-“

“I wo-“

“DO WHAT I SAY!” The moth demon snapped, summoned both of their chains and yanked them to himself, almost causing them to fell down. “I asked you to do, and you will! I don’t want to hear any complaints!” He turned to Adam and threw him to the wall, scaring the shit out of him. “You, are going to fuck him harder than you ever did to anyone, either until your penis hurt or I decide it’s good enough. Got it?”

“Y-yes.” He shook his head violently, panting. He didn’t want Valentino to hit him like he did last week. Or him to lock him in his room for five days and give him water out of a dog bowl just so he wouldn’t die of thirst.

“And you,” He kept the chain on Adam’s neck, dragging him but he turned to Angel. “You are going to be under him for the next hour, or even for the following one if I think you aren’t moaning enough. Or you want me to make you do so?”

“Okay, Val.” Angel too looked panicked.

“Glad that we came to an agreement.” He chuckled and let go of them both. “Now collect yourselves! We have a looong shot to make!” He left Adam’s room as if he did nothing to them.

Adam looked at the spider demon. He couldn't help but feel sad towards him. No, it was more than just feeling sad. It was empathy.

He shook his head and tried to keep his old self.

“Get up, cunt. Let’s get this over with.”

—Continuing where we left off on the last chapter—

“Ungh..” Adam blinked slowly and held his head. There were stars dancing in front of his eyes. This was the last one right? He thought so. He hoped so.

“We’re done for today!” He heard someone shout behind him and a title on his mask. “LOCK: OPEN”. Good. Now he could go to his room and get dressed and get the thing on his fucking head off. He thought to himself. He took a few steps before he almost fell down, but a blurry pink figure hold him by his waist.

“Woah woah woah, you good there?” Angel said, looking concerned.

“Everything hurts…” He mumbled as he struggled to open the lock of his mask.

“Come here.” He helped him to get to his own room and sat him down. Luckily there wasn’t any Valentinos on sight.

“Can you..?” He dazedly pointed the lock of his mask.

“Sure.” He pressed the Voxtech button on the left to close the mask permanently, opened the buttons on the behind of it and took it off. There was Adam’s super tired face. There were bags under his eyes and his hair was messed up. How the fuck was his little beard was tangled?

“Mhhhh..” He groaned and looked around. “Where are we?”

“My room. Want me to get you somethin?”

“You’re the best Angel.”

Angel get up and went to his own bar of alcohol. There was only one. Of course, he was tired as fuck too, but he guessed today did serious damage to his friend. He had mentioned Val ordered him to film two different movies that included the fair use of his wings and he knew how much he hated people to touch them. “They are pretty banging, I know. But they are too fucking sensitive.” He felt anger as he thought of what he said. Oh, just what would he do to that motherfucker if he had the chance.

He turned back to Adam with the booze bottle on his hand. The demon’s head was in his hands.

“Here, I have this. Do you think you can walk?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m good.” He took the bottle and drank it down. Almost in one shot. He wiped his mouth, then flapped his wings lightly in order to bring them some comfort. “How ‘bout you? I bet he made you get fucked by three guys at once.”

“Three? Don’t be ridiculous. It was five.”

“Do you think this will ever come to an end?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Me neither. Lets go.”

“We’re still in our robes.”

“Right. I forgot.” He stretched. “Meet on the outside?”

“Yup.”

“See ya.” He walked away to his room to get dressed. When he was done, he got up and walked to the entrance. Good thing world decided not to spin anymore.

ITS HERE!

Would you believe if I said I worked on this for hours? And still not had enough?

Also, I know Adam definitely bottoms men, but Val just markets him as a ‘top bad boy’ and makes his and Angel’s movies a stereotypical gay porn in order to answer the pleadings of horny middle aged women

It’ll continue. Seriously, you would not believe me if I told you how much shit I have for this AU.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel au #holydust #anyone get the referance?

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fresh-fanfics · 22 days

Text

Yandere! Kaoru Hanayama x AFAB! Reader

TW: Depression, Mommy Issues, Stalking, Obsessive Behaviour, Possessive Behaviour, Delusional Thoughts.

Reader: A foreign college student who's currently taken. She's a bit of a brat, but has a good heart.

So I finally have an idea for a fanfic with Hanayama. I really like the idea of making Yandere fics with him, he just seems so perfect for them. This fic is gonna be a multipart, I'm used to making slow burns so if you don't swing with that, I don't know what to tell you. Buckle up? Anyways, enjoy.

Hanayama was no romantic man. Even with all the money and power in the world, no girl would ever want to stay with someone as dangerous as him. For a while, he was satisfied with this life. He had accepted that no person would ever look at him in adoration and pure love. As empty as it was going day to day, girl to girl, brothel to brothel, it was enough to distract him from his loneliness. When work became too much, he distracted himself with empty pleasure and the moans of prostitutes that were just there for the money.

He laid down against a brick wall, bleeding on the cold and dark floor at a filthy alleyway. It had been one of those days where the underground world was at a state of unrest, violent gang wars breaking out without any signs of stopping. He had no choice but to step in, show everyone who the real boss was. Hanayama knew he would survive. He always does, but sometimes he wished he didn't. He knew he needed to move, but peace like this was a luxury. Any man that tried to disturb this solemn moment would not live to tell the tale. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting the cold wind blow against his face.

"Oh my God, sir, you're bleeding! Are you okay? What happened?" A feminine voice took Hanayama out of his thoughts, his eyes opening to find a woman that bent down with concern in her eyes.

He stayed silent, his steel-hardened gaze observing her delicate stature. She was a cute little thing, the equivalent of a tree sapling that had yet to bloom. He trumped her in size and strength, yet she was unafraid. Hanayama had seen hardened men twice her height and stature that would quiver at his feet, but not her. This naive woman who dotted over him like cattle. He watched her ramble about and rummage through her purse for some kind of thing that would stop the bleeding.

He knew it was useless and no amount of nursing from a stranger was going to make the pain disappear, but he commended her effort despite how foolish it was. Did she even realize who she was helping? She was naive to be tending to a man that has crushed millions of gangsters like a grape.

"Okay, almost...Got it." She had tied a makeshift tourniquet around his left arm using her cardigan.

"Can you get up?"

The large man gave a slight nod, struggling to stand up on his two feet while this stranger tried to help him stabilize his trembling form.

What was this woman doing? She must have either been the most oblivious thing on the planet or the most wreckless. She certainly didn't look like she belonged here.

"You speak good Japanese for a tourist." He spoke at out of the blue, making her slightly jump from his sudden comment.

The woman gave a forced chuckle.

"Actually, I've been living here for a while now. I know I don't exactly look like I am, but this is still my home as much as yours."

Kaoru felt conflicted, processing the words inside his head. Despite being born and raised in Japan, it didn't feel like home. Being raised in a Yakuza family was not easy for a young kid. Violence was your normal, and there was no telling if you would live to fight another day. He envied her naivety, the innocence in her eyes that he never got to keep. It was depressing to think about, to say the least.

"We definitely need to get you to the hospital. These injuries are not something you can shrug off." She reached for her phone before he grabbed her wrist with his other hand, causing her to flinch from its tight grip.

"No need. I know a doctor. I'll give you the number." He noticed her trembling form, loosening his grasp as he dialed the numbers and letting the phone ring.

"Hello? Who is this? How did you get this number?" An elegant voice could be heard from the other side, calling out to whoever was there.

"Kureha. I need your services." Without even uttering his name, Hanayama knew that Kureha would recognize his deep and raspy tone. He spoke with conviction and directness.

"Kaoru? What happened to-You know what, it doesn't matter. Where are you right now?" Kureha sighed in exasperation.

"I'm in an alleyway at the Red Light District near Deathmatch pub. Come quick." He hung up without so much as a goodbye, dropping her phone in her hands.

"You can go. I don't need your help anymore."

The foreigner girl's face soured, glaring at him as she shoved her phone in her bag.

"Hmph. You're welcome." She grumbled, gritting her teeth and turning up her nose at rude man.

"I guess I'm not needed here. Good luck. I hope you recover well." Sarcasm dripped from her tone as she left him alone in the alleyway.

He watched her figure disappear through the bustling crowds in the city streets without even as much as looking back at him. Hanayama stared into space, alone in a cold alley once again. Despite her bratty behaviour, he didn't mind it at all.

"Huh. Strange. This girl is something else. For someone who claims to have lived here for a while, she's damn clueless. I'll admit, she has guts to talk down to me like that.."

Before he could dwell on it any longer, a series of loud sirens blared down the streets with an ambulance stopping nearby. Paramedics clamored to take him away for treatment, rushing him towards the hospital.

It would seem that he'd have to hold that thought for a while...

To be continued.

#baki #baki dou #baki fanfic #baki hanma #baki son of ogre #baki the grappler #kaoru hanayama #kaoru hanayama x reader #baki hanayama #kureha shinogi #katsumi orochi #jack hanma #yujiro hanma #doppo orochi #retsu kaioh #pickle #baki pickle #kiyosumi katou #jun guevaru

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

I’m new to your blog and am LOVING your fics, and of course I’ve been rewatching narcos so I’m daydreaming about Javier Peña constantly

I like to imagine a scenario where Peña is at the bar again after a shitty, stressful day at work, and you (stranger) inquire about why he’s so gloomy, and soon you have him laughing and genuinely having a good time. Total fluff. Hardass Peña blushing and full belly laughing? My heart.

I just wanted to share but of course feel free to use it if you want! I just am obsessed 😂

AN | Just some softness with our fave DEA agent! Enjoy ❤️

Pairing | Javier x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main, Javier

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d seen him walk into the bar many times now. He’d come in all sorts of moods, easily evident by how he carried himself. It was also easy to tell how his day went from the amount of drinks he ordered. You always made them, passing them along to him silently, never engaging in much conversation of any sort besides taking his order and payment. You wondered if he even really remembered you or if you were just another part of his evening routine.

Whatever he thought of you didn’t change the fact that you were curious about him. But you weren’t about to impose yourself upon him. If he ever wanted to talk to you, you’d indulge him but that would have to be on his terms. You didn’t want to scare away one of your best and most regular customers after all.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been a slow day with few patrons throughout the evening. You were half tempted to close up shop, but decided you weren’t that pressed to go home and opted to keep the place open. The worst that would happen was that you had no more people come through and you’d be left to your own devices. If that happened, you figured you’d get a head start on some deep cleaning. It really wasn’t too bad, plus you liked the bar you managed. Unlike so many others, it had a warm and inviting ambiance and most of the people that came through weren’t too bad.

Just when you were about to give up that any one else would come in, you heard the front door open, accompanied by a soft sigh that had become very familiar. You looked up from the book you were reading - cleaning could wait, you had decided - and smiled when you saw that it was him. He was the last person you had expected to see tonight.

He came up and sat at the bar, at his usual spot, not even bothering to wave you down today. There was no reason to after all, it wasn’t like your attention was occupied by anyone else. You tried to squash your nerves as you walked over to him, wondering what type of mood he was in today. It had been hard to read from his walk for once so you quietly padded over to him.

“Hi,” you cringed slightly when you realized how high pitched and squeaky your voice sounded, “hey. What can I get you?”

He hesitated for a moment before turning his eyes towards and looking you over. If it had been any other man, you might have felt worried or awkward, but no with him. His gaze was not unkind; and you liked his eyes. Warm brown with crinkles in the corner that you were almost positive showed up whenever he smiled, “you’re not from here.”

You blinked at him a few times before slowly nodding in response. A small smile tugged up the corners of your mouth, “no, I’m not. Have you just noticed or is it just a guess?”

He hesitated before sitting back and stifling his laugh, “it might be the fact that you just started speaking in English to me.”

“Oh,” you mentally slapped yourself; you normally didn’t make that mistake anymore but apparently your mind had gotten the better of you. Plus, you knew that while he was fluent in Spanish, he was American. It was easy to tell when you were in the same boat, “oh. Well, yeah, yes, you’re right. I’m not from here. And neither of you.”

“Nope,” he agreed as you grabbed a glass and started to pour him a drink, “Texas.”

“Texas,” you repeated, passing him the drink, “I’d ask what brings you here, but somehow I have a feeling you’re either not allowed to tell me or you’re not going to.”

“A bit of both,” he took a long drink as he studied you intently. He was fairly certain that you were friend and not foe, but he wasn’t quite ready to take the full plunge into trust just yet, “mostly the latter. What brings someone such as yourself to working in a bar in the middle of Cali?”

“Came to Columbia for school and then just…didn’t end up leaving. And I don’t just work here - I manage this fine establishment,” you gestured around, feeling proud of the space you’d turned into a friendly and cozy space, “you’re around a lot, so it can’t be too terrible.”

“Not at all,” he agreed, setting his glass down and tapping his fingers along the counter of the bar, “company’s not too bad either. Can you have a drink or is that…a big no?”

“Normally I don’t drink on the job,” you admittedly as you reached for another glass, “and I’m not a big drinker to begin with but I’m willing to make an exception every once in a while. Like you said - company’s not too bad.”

And then he laughed. A lovely sound that went straight to your heart and made your bones feel like jelly. You really liked him so far, so all you could do was hope he wouldn’t turn out to be one of the bad ones, but something in your guy told you that he wasn’t.

“What’s your poison?” he watched as you combined a few things to make your drink.

“It depends,” you decided to take a chance and make him one as well, “but tonight it feels like an old fashioned kind of night.”

"Classy," he raised his glass to you in a small salute as you snorted in amusement, "so you're making a special exception to drink with me, huh?"

"Mhmm," you took a long sip and leaned against the counter, "like I said, it's not what I normally do, but I feel like I can trust you."

"Trust me?" He asked. You nodded, "how so?"

"You've never hit on me, you've never been rude to me or anyone else, and you tip well," you swore you could see a slight blush well up in his cheeks, even in the low lighting, "which makes practically a dream man."

"Now you're just flattering me," but he was laughing - a deep, warm sound that seemed so genuine, "I'm sure there's plenty of men out there just like that but better."

"You've clearly never been a young woman out by herself late at night…or anytime really," you sighed lightly, "it doesn't matter if it's here in Columbia or anywhere else in the world. A lot of men are just…terrible."

"Yeah," he let out a long sigh and shook his head, "unfortunately I know what you're talking about."

"And you haven't done anything like that," you grabbed the bottle from under the counter, "which is why tonight's tab is on the house."

"What's the catch?" Oh yeah. This man could read your mind. You poured his refill before smiling coquettishly, "you're trouble, I can already tell."

"The catch is," you leaned on your arms on the counter so you were as close to him as possible without jumping over the counter, "you gotta tell me more about yourself. Deal?"

He studied you - intensely - before offering you a crooked grin, "deal."

"But?"

"You have to answer my questions too."

"Deal," you held out your hand which he eagerly shook, "deal."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your deal turned into a lot more than you bargained for. In only the best ways, which you hadn't really seen coming.

When you struck up that first conversation with him, you'd ended up talking for hours, well into the early hours of the morning. And it had all felt so natural and easy, like you'd known each for so long and so deeply.

It became a regular thing after that, with Javier coming in regularly - not to drink necessary but to spend time with you. It was easy and made him less nervous when it was under the guise of getting a drink.

He came and found you at least a few nights a week, and you'd come to know so many sides to him. You could easily tell when Javier had a stressful day, when he'd had a good one, or was just tired to his bones. You still weren't positive exactly what he did for work, but you knew it wasn't anything to take lightly.

He'd even become what you considered a friend. You hoped he thought of you as a friend too.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You could sense that he was in a fantastic mood as soon as he came into the bar, a visible spring in his step. It made you feel better too - lighter, happier.

"Hi Javi," you turned your attention to him immediately as he sat down in his usual spot. You leaned against the counter and gave him a smile that always made his heart skip a few beats, "how's it going?"

"Better now," and oh. His answer made you positively weak. You felt your entire face warm up as you took a second to look away so you wouldn't completely lose it, "how was your day, trouble?"

"Same old, same old," you shrugged, "uneventful but much better now."

"Dime," he mirrored your position and you were suddenly overwhelmed by how close he was. The idea that you could lean in and kiss him was dizzying.

You could play coy, could pretend you had no idea what he was talking about…but you felt bold. You were well aware of the fact that you'd both been beating around the bush, playing a little catch and mouse game. But something had to come to a head, right? You cocked your head to the side and gave him a coquettish smile, "you."

"Me?" You swore you could see a little flush of pink coloring his cheeks, "you sure about that?"

"I am," there was no going back now but somehow you didn't mind that, "you make my day better, Javi. Even if you're only there for a little bit at a time."

You watched his jaw tense as he seemed to be mulling something over deeply. Part of you was already panicking and worrying about having said the wrong thing. But then - he smiled and tapped his fingers along the countertop, "yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You make my day a lot better too," he let out a long weary sigh and you couldn't help the lovesick little expression you gave him, "you're going to be the death of me, you know? You're just trouble."

"But the good kind, I hope?" you were sure there were other people around there needed to be helped for once but you were more than happy to let your coworkers step in and help for once. At least tonight. Javier made a small sound before playfully shrugging, "Javier!"

"Yes," he promised after a few beats of playful silence passed between the two of you, "the best kind, sweetheart."

"Consider your drinks on the house tonight," you went to go and grab a glass but he caught your wrist and stopped you, "Javi?"

"This is probably stupid of me to ask," he sighed for just a moment, more at the situation than anything else and you raised an eyebrow, "but do you want to go out sometime? Maybe not for a drink but…something?"

"Are you asking me on a date?" you blinked at him with wide eyes, almost unsure if you'd heard him correctly.

"Umm…yes?" His first thought was that he had fucked something up, "but only if you want to of course. No pressure-"

"Yes," you cut him off as soon as the realization of what he had said hit you, "yes. I'd love you to."

"Really?" You were surprised that he seemed so surprised. Had he not gotten the very strong signals you'd been putting out? You thought you were being so obvious this whole time.

"Really," you promised, "I was wondering if you were going to ask."

"You-" he paused for a moment before laughing softly, "you are something else."

"I am," you gave him a cheeky wink, "you'll find out. But Javi - I really like you too."

"When are you free?"

You looked around the bar and decided it was empty enough, "now?"

"Now?" He repeated and the two of you grinned at each other like fools, but you nodded, "now is perfect."

"Let's go!"

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x fem!reader #pedro pascal #javier pena one shot #javier pena imagine

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sgiandubh · 3 months

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I do not understand how in 2024 people follow "follows" this obsessively. Do not understand anyone thinking the follows are a sign of new or true love or a f*ck buddy. If the follows of fit women or gay conservationists mean something sexual, what do follows of actors or musicians or businesspeople or or or mean? I am not saying you are doing this. The fandom at large connects dots and crafts a story when sometimes people are just scrolling and hit follow. I'm not one who thinks every follow is a plot to serve a dwindling fandom though, so you can't go by me.

Dear Hit Follow Anon,

Once upon a time, when Baby S and Baby C were young &foolish enough to actually show their true Selves to this Cookie Monster we love to hate (aka the OL Fandom), online times, follows and friends of friends slipping up, oops, were of Paramount Importance.

It is obvious that after IFH, Flukenzie Floozy, EFH and That Remarkable Week-end, all these behavior patterns progressively shifted and the relevance of all the above reduced to an almost random trickle. It is my strong belief much, very much of what we see now is a chaotic mix of "I am bored" and "let's keep them busy for a while". It is also very interesting to notice how this shift translates sometimes in what we see during promo: remember C's appearance and body language at the Season 7 premiere?

I admit I sometimes give in and look for meaning in follows that may or may not have one. And many other good and intelligent and normal people do the same.

You know why?

Because we miss Them. It's as sentimentally awkward as that. But you are probably right, Anon and I know it. And I might still post in a week or three months (who knows?) a follow that I find odd and telling, despite being perfectly aware of everything you wrote.

Boredom is the Narrative's secret weapon of mass destruction. Who will be brave enough and write the book that would tell the tale of this Strange Wasteland? All this colossal amount of energy deserves its saga.

Thank you for dropping by. Anytime.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

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thestobingirlie · 1 year

Note

what do you think about steve's relationships w tommy and carol? (either tommy and carol individually or them as a trio)

i am obsessed with carol, tommy and steve. you do not understand what you have begun lmao.

i have a lot of hyper specific headcanons of the three of them, but i’ll try not to bore you with them lmao.

so, first things first, i absolutely do not agree with people that think steve wasn’t really friends with tommy and carol, and they never cared about each other. i hate that take, it’s so boring. it makes steve leaving them behind mean nothing! he loved tommy and carol. but to be able to grow as a person he had to leave them behind.

i think when steve looks back on tommy and carol, it’s kinda complex, because he knows they weren’t great people, but the second he left them, his world began falling apart. so he mourns what he lost more than he would’ve otherwise. it’s the loss of his childhood! he misses them, but he doesn’t miss who he was with them, and he wouldn’t go back and change his decision, but i think he definitely wishes they could’ve grown with him.

so, steve and carol! we got given crumbs, and yet i love them. my personal hc is that steve and carol were friends first, and then tommy joined them later. i just love it that way around, i don’t know why.

tommy and steve definitely kissed at one point when they were like 11/12. i think all three of them had crushes on each other, but sadly they were teens in the 80s.

the three of them have, like, zero boundaries. carol was just showing off her manky foot on the table in the cafeteria, they were all sharing food, steve is eating as he leans over and examines carol’s weird foot wound. no hesitation. they just have the vibes of people that have known each other for too long and are too comfortable, they know too much about each other. i think steve absolutely knows an ungodly amount of information about tommy and carol’s sex life. he doesn’t want to, but once carol starts, there’s no stopping her.

his friendship with carol and tommy was the prequel to steve’s friendship with robin. he has never had a normal dynamic with his best friend, it’s always been a little over the top and weird. (but stobin is also special and different and in its own realm of obsessed)

i think they got crueler as they got older, a kind of frog in a boiling pot situation. steve didn’t realise quite how bad it had gotten until the jonathan fight, and he realised he didn’t want to be that kind of person, and as long as he was friends with tommy and carol he wouldn’t be able to change.

i think after the demogorgon fight at the byers house, he was so lonely, and he just wanted to go back to them, and be comforted. because monsters were real! but he couldn’t tell his best friends, because if he did they were in danger, and they were terrible people that steve shouldn’t want to be around. but he still did.

so, yeah. i think they started off very cute, but the dynamic got complex, kinda like a festering wound. they did all care about each other, but they were absolutely making each other worse.

#steve harrington #carol perkins #tommy hagan #mean girl trio #do they have a friendship tag? if not we should make one up #stranger things #asks #anon

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ilikepjo24 · 2 months

Text

@annie-handholder rebloged a post I made with some Ursa and Azula art (that does not belong to me, I just got permission from the artist to share it on this platform) and those were the tags, and I'd like to address them.

First of all, there's no indication of Azula being spoiled. Being a prodigy and being praised isn't the same as being spoiled, you are simply getting recognition for the skills you do have that are great and do deserve recognition. To assume that this recognition isn't essential and is actually spoiling a child will only serve to un-motivate them. So Azula receiving praise for being good at stuff is just a normal thing. You try hard and are skilled and you get praise as a reward. This isn't being spoiled.

Being spoiled is to be harmed in character by being treated too leniently or indulgently. This is a definition that I copy-pasted. This definition does not fit Azula. We see Ursa make an attempt to set boundaries and be stern whenever the situation called for it. We even see Ozai tell her to fuck off when she asks for credit for her own plan (which wasn't good parenting, it was toxic as well, but it was the opposite way. If giving your children too much praise is toxic then not giving them recognition at all for their own achievements and ideas is the other end of the rope, and both are toxic. You should find the middle ground and give your children the proper amount of praise).

Additionally, we don't see anything that would imply that Azula is being spoiled with material possessions. We see her get a gift once, but that's all. It's not like she goes around pointing at things she wants and everyone breaks their back to get her that thing. She's not obsessed with material possessions, as you'd expect a spoiled child to be.

Yes, Ozai did not address her bad behavior, in fact, he encouraged it when it didn't affect him personally. But he also nipped it in the bud when Azula did something that annoyed him. And Ursa addressed her bad behavior too. So it's not like Azula grew up spoiled and without rules because her parents let her do whatever she pleased. The problem is that the rules that were in place by Ozai weren't the correct ones. Instead of being a decent dad and person and teaching his daughter to also be a decent person, Ozai just taught Azula to not be a bother to him. And she did do that. So Azula did follow the rules that were in place for her. You wouldn't call a child that follows rules spoiled. At this point, you have to realize that Azula wasn't the problem. She wasn't spoiled. She followed the rules. The problem is that the rules in question were unreasonable. So you can't really blame the child and call them spoiled. You have to hold accountable the people that set those rules in place.

If Azula behaved the exact same way, but the rules she had to follow were the ones society has agreed upon, she'd be a model child. So she's not the problem. She's not spoiled. The problem is that she was playing a version of the game with different rules that the agreed upon, socially acceptable ones. The one to blame in this situation is the one that set her up for failure and taught her to play the wrong version of the game. I'm looking at you, Ozai.

The child isn't spoiled, she follows rules. The problem is the irresponsible parenting. So you can't just go ahead and paint Azula out to be the problem. It's shifting the blame from the irresponsible parents to the misguided child. It's simply not fair.

So if Azula wasn't spoiled, then why didn't she realize Ursa loved her?

Well, that's because Ursa wasn't that good at showing it. I have made multiple posts about how Ursa parented Azula, and so have a bunch of other people. The truth is, while Ursa was strict with Azula when needed, she was too lenient with Zuko, with who she clearly favored and spend more time with. I'm not saying Ursa didn't love Azula, but I am saying that Ursa could have done more to express that love, and then Azula would know it's there.

#atla #azula #ozai critical #fuck him #ursa critical #Azula meta

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scribbling-dragon · 1 year

Note

hello i am utterly obsessed with your mer scott au (as you know) and i heard you were taking requests - maybe something about being kissed to shut someone up?

you look better when you're quiet

summary:

Scott doesn't think. Scott likes to tell himself that he thinks all of his actions through, likes to boast that every plan he’s successfully pulled off has been because of extensive planning, rather than just luck of the draw. Scott is also a filthy liar- because he hardly ever thinks his actions through, and when he does, it’s normally for no more than a few minutes. Thinking any longer than that would put him off of whatever idea he’s had, and normally he only has a few moments to enact it anyway.

He grabs Martyn’s face with his hand, pulling the other man around to face him. Martyn allows himself to be pulled, words trailing off as he meets Scott’s eyes. Martyn smiles at him then, a little nervously, as though just realising that he might have, just maybe, said a little bit more than he meant to.

“You have something on your face, dear.” Scott says.

(ao3 link)

(2,418 words)

i am. almost embarrassed by this im ngl. but i refuse to be really embarrassed! even if the kiss scene made me embarrassed dsjhdj

Scott is rather good at keeping secrets, if he does say so himself. The mysterious personality was specially curated to make him more interesting- everyone loves a guy with a mysterious past, right? And it’s much more fun to watch people try to figure him out than spill all his secrets the moment they show him some basic human decency.

As such, he is used to keeping secrets, and finding out other people’s secrets- those are leagues more valuable than any secrets of his own. A secret, applied in the right place at the right moment can put just enough pressure on someone to sway their decision in his favour. And a few secrets are always bound to crop up around the games.

Point being: Scott is good at keeping secrets. And he is very, very quickly finding out that his teammate is…not.

Case in point, being their current situation.

“You two are looking…pretty green around the gills still.” Joel snickers as he says this, probably rather pleased with his play on words. Really, it’s only a little funny, and only because of the irony of what he’s saying.

Martyn casts a short glance at him from the corner of his eye, lips twitching up. No doubt, he’s thinking the same thing that Scott is.

“Oh, certainly.” Martyn nods sagely, as though he’s imparting some great wisdom onto Joel and Jimmy, and not just stating the obvious. “We’ve both got a pretty decent amount of time left, too, haven't we?”

He feels his jaw tense involuntarily at Martyn’s words, refusing to look at his teammate as Joel raises an eyebrow in question. Jimmy continues to stand a foot behind Joel, arms crossed, as though attempting to make himself look more intimidating. At best, he looks like a ruffled chick- no more intimidating than a bit of tumbleweed.

“Really?” Joel’s sunglasses slip a little further down his face, yellow eyes peering at them from behind the glasses. Really, Scott thinks Jimmy is the only one that knows how to wear sunglasses properly- seeing as Grian refuses to wear them on his face at all, and Joel insists on wearing them far too low. Surely it must be uncomfortable to have them slip so low that they're pinching on your nose, right?

Joel doesn't seem to care, if that’s the case, bringing a hand up to rest on the arm of his sunglasses, tilting them down further. Really, they're only covering his lips now, eyes fully exposed, glinting an even brighter yellow in the midday sun.

“Your glasses low enough on your face Joel?” He asks, interrupting whatever the other man was about to say. “I can almost see your chin still.”

“Shut up, Scott.” Joel shoots back, though it has no real heat behind it. They're on rather friendly terms with the…bad boys right now, and he doubts that they want to turn a few more people against them- especially as he’s pretty certain they're actually the only people tolerating them right now. He has not missed the way both Tango and Impulse have been staring at them from their base for ten solid minutes now. He doesn't think either of the bad boys have noticed yet, so he doesn't point it out.

“I can kick you off this island right now,” he points out. He takes a step forward, considering how much trouble he would land him and Martyn in if he shoved Joel into the water- the man is practically asking for it, okay! He’s stood right by the edge, staring at him over his dumb sunglasses; he’s basically asking for a dip! “Watch yourself, bad boy.”

“Now, now, Scott,” Martyn pats him on the shoulder. “There’s no need to tease them over their name.”

Scott knows that’s a lie, even without turning to Martyn and seeing the amusement twinkling in his eyes. His eyes are the only giveaway, and it really is a good thing that Scott is good at keeping secrets- good at not spilling everything just for his own amusement, because he can remember several of the iterations of the bad boys’ name that Martyn came up with last night.

“There’s nothing to mock about our name.” Joel crosses his arms, leaving his sunglasses hanging onto his face, just barely. Jimmy nods behind him, sunglasses glinting in the sunlight. “We’re the bad boys.”

Scott is also impressed that all three of them are able to say the name without breaking. Personally, if he had a name like that he would laugh every time he was forced to say it. But each to their own, he supposes.

“Yeah.” Jimmy chimes in. He’s like…the world’s most un-threatening bodyguard. His wings are all puffed up behind him, though it does little to hide how small they are. “We’re not for laughing at.”

“And you two are still green,” Joel points out. “How many hours do you even have?”

Scott should have seen this coming, really, should have seen how easily this conversation could have turned in a bad direction. He should have known that Martyn would open his mouth, and, with all his usual cheeriness that is actually endearing on a normal day, would ruin it all.

“Oh, I haven't got nearly as many hours as Scott has.”

He doesn't give himself whiplash turning to glare at Martyn, but it’s a near thing. He attempts to telepathically communicate to Martyn that he should be shutting the hell up right now. Martyn obviously doesn't hear him, because he opens his mouth again. Scott can hear Joel giggling, obviously finding something absolutely hilarious.

“Oh, really?” Joel asks, still giggling. It sounds like he’s hiccuping when he tries to smother them a moment later.

“Yeah, yeah,” Martyn nods, “he’s got like-”

“You have something on your face, dear.” Scott says. His brain is running on nothing- it’s sprinting away from him, he thinks, actually. He doesn't pause in his actions though, he’s far too deep to back out now- and his mother didn't raise no bitch. His mother raised someone that saw things through, no matter how ridiculous or convoluted they got. And by god he is not going to let this moment be the one that ruins that for him.

He swipes his thumb over Martyn’s face, watching the way Martyn’s eyes widen. The edge of his thumb brushes against Martyn’s lips- they're close enough now that he could very easily close the distance between them and kiss him. Martyn’s eyes are very obviously asking for it, even as red rises on his cheeks. Scott grins down at him, allowing his touch to linger for a moment before pulling back.

He turns back to Joel and Jimmy. Joel’s sunglasses are moments away from slipping off his nose, and his eyes are rather wide, flicking between him and Martyn. He smiles at them, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“I thought you two were just leaving?” He says.

“I- yeah, yes!” Joel takes a step back, hand reaching out for Jimmy’s arm. “Uh, yeah, we’re just going now! Don't worry, we won't stick around, uh- sorry for intruding?” It’s not often that someone manages to render Joel speechless, so Scott allows himself to enjoy the moment, watching the two bad boys practically sprint back to the mainland, away from their little island.

When he glances over at the TIES base as well, both Tango and Impulse are missing from the tower, no longer watching.

“That was easier than expected.” He muses, watching as the flash of yellow that is Jimmy’s wings disappears into the shadowed forest. “I thought I would actually have to kiss you to make them leave.”

He glances over at Martyn from the corner of his eye, still grinning. Martyn is standing in the position Scott left him, the only difference is that his eyes are now cast to the ground, though they are still wide and staring, and one of his hands is pressed to his cheek.

Scott leaves him there, pushing through the gate and into their small storage area. He had just returned from a small material gathering trip before Jimmy and Joel decided to make an appearance and his bag is still laden down with several different materials.

He occupies himself with putting them away, sorting them neatly so they don't have to rifle through the chests to find whatever it is that they want. Unorganised chest systems are just so inefficient, really. And the time he takes while sorting out the various items gives Martyn just a little bit longer to regain his wits and scrape together whatever shreds of his dignity he has left.

His ears pick up the soft sound of creaking wood, no doubt Martyn is attempting to be as quiet as possible and failing rather unfortunately as he fails to take Scott’s better than average hearing into account.

Scott keeps his back turned to Martyn. Perhaps he should allow him this small win, after embarrassing him in front of both Joel and Jimmy so thoroughly. He hasn't checked his comm recently, but it has been vibrating. And Joel is much worse at keeping secrets than even Martyn, so it’s probably all over the server by now.

Good. Maybe people will stop bothering them now.

Scott turns only when Martyn is directly behind him, leaning back on the chest and grinning up at Martyn. Martyn grins back at him, though it is a little sharper than usual. “You're just going to leave me like that?” Martyn asks, leaning a little closer. Scott can feel his breath on his face. The scales around his eyes are just that little bit more sensitive to it, and he shivers.

“Like what?” He asks. “Standing around, like a gaping, lovesick fool?”

Martyn laughs, eyes squinting shut as he drops his head, shoulders shaking. Scott smiles at him, leaning a little further forward, pressing the both of them a little closer together. Martyn stops laughing a moment later, looking up. His eyes widen as he realises how close they've become.

Martyn’s eyes drift down, to his lips, and Scott grins. “See something you like?” He asks, even though he feels a bit breathless, a bit giddy with anticipation. Martyn’s eyes flick back up to his own, the green almost startling with how bright it is.

Scott stands from the chest, pulling himself up. He steps forward, and Martyn steps back, still grinning. He matches him, step for step, until Martyn’s back hits the wall on the other side of the small room.

He’s grinning, can feel it, and Martyn is grinning too- he can see it, a grin that teases him with a challenge that only his eyes can communicate. He presses Martyn up against the wall, one hand flat against his chest, and he leans in.

Martyn kisses him back eagerly, pressing forward, hands coming up, searching, clinging, pulling at his hair as they tangle themselves into it. Scott allows himself to be pulled forward- to be drawn deeper into the kiss, even as his lungs begin to burn. He doesn't mind, he finds he enjoys the burn.

Martyn pulls back first, lips red as he stares at him, eyes flicking down to Scott’s lips first, then back up to his eyes. One of his hands is still tangled in Scott’s hair, the other one cupped around his neck, keeping him close.

Scott finds himself panting, just slightly, leaning forward to press their heads together, grinning down at Martyn as they both regain their breath. Martyn doesn't say a word, simply staring at Scott, his eyes a little wider than normal and slightly hazed over.

Scott laughs, and Martyn’s eyes narrow a little. “You look better when you're quiet,” he teases. He can feel Martyn’s breaths, the way the heat spreads over his face, the rise and fall of his chest against his own. They're pressed close enough together that they could be one person.

“I guess you better keep me quiet then.” Martyn gasps out, still slightly out of breath.

Scott doesn't need any more permission than that, pressing in again, leaning closer, further in. His hands dig into Martyn’s hips- he can feel the way the other almost shudders against him at the action. He grins into the kiss, feels the way Martyn grumbles- can feel it vibrate through his chest as Martyn’s grip tightens on his hair, threatening to actually pull some of it out.

Martyn bites him a moment later.

He gasps into the kiss, eyes opening as he stares at Martyn. Martyn looks back at him, eyes heavy-lidded as he leans in again. The hand on the back of his neck slides around to cup his jaw, pulling him closer and keeping him there.

Martyn’s tongue swipes over the bite mark, soothing it slightly, before he presses himself deeper into the kiss again, stealing all the oxygen in Scott’s lungs. It’s almost enough to make him weak in the knees, and he grips at Martyn a little tighter, fingers digging into his hipbones as he clings on.

They only separate again when Scott feels as though he’s on the verge of passing out, spots dancing in his vision as he works on regaining his breath.

Martyn huffs out a little laugh, too out of breath to do anything more.

Both of them lean against each other, Martyn’s arms looped around his neck, breath ghosting over Scott’s collarbones.

“I think one of the TIES guys was watching us.” Martyn says, completely ruining the moment.

Scott groans, dropping his head to Martyn’s shoulder. “I liked it better when you weren't talking.”