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#that flushed ear means joe was blushing
icallhimjoey · 1 month
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Explain Us
♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: So, more than flatmates... but, what exactly? Would be fantastic if you would just, you know, talk about it. But communicating is not your strong suit and you're extremely certain that it's fine. Confusing and vague, but, fine.
CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, a continuation of define close, no need to read it to enjoy this, though it will help! 18+ smut! (just a little! but it's a start!)
Author’s note: "am i gonna have to buy into the concept of sleeping next to him but just kissing?" no :) of course not :))))
Wordcount: 3.2K
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part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
Big mistake. Massive error. Huge miscalculation.
Shouldn’t have done that.
Why did you do that?
All the things you wouldn’t even let your own inner monologue sound out were now just... out there. Vocalised into the ether. Swirling around in the air of the flat. The very one where Joe lived too, and maybe they’d end up finding their way into Joe’s ears eventually – not how it worked, you were very aware, but, a new fear had been awakened anyway.
Fuck.
You shouldn’t have told her.
And it was Joe’s fault too!
Not really. But, sort of. You were blaming him for all of it, anyway. If he hadn’t decided that your friend being out of the room for just a second was enough time to let hands wander, she would never have seen. Would never have given you that look. Would never have asked you the question you knew she was keeping inside of her mouth until Joe’d left.
“So... what’s going on with you and Joe?”
Breathe, you stupid bitch. Remain calm.
“Nothing.”
It was silly how fast you cracked. An eye-roll and a pointed look later had you bashfully confess that, yea all right, there was something going on with you and Joe. You just didn’t really know if you could explain it properly.
“The way you quickly stepped away from him when I walked back in, I fucking knew something was up. Try me.”
“No, but it’s really complicated...”
“I said, try me.”
And well. Turns out, in a huge what-the-fuck moment, it wasn’t at all that complicated actually. You told her that you and Joe got cosy and watched films a lot. Cuddled up and fell asleep on each other on the daily. Slept in the same bed a lot. All the time, now, actually, because it was just nicer than sleeping alone. But you weren’t like, together or anything.
You rambled.
And your friend watched you in silence.
And, yea sure, sometimes you kissed, but it was like, you know, how friends kiss each other sometimes. Quick pecks. Like stage kisses. Joe was an actor. It didn’t really mean anything.
“You... you kiss like friends kiss?”
“Yea,” you shrugged, picked a little bit of food of a forgotten dinner plate to appear more casual about all of it. To really sell that it wasn’t a big deal to you.
“Or like, how you’d kiss a parent, you know?”
Your friend watched you a second, and then challengingly went, “All right. Kiss me like you’d kiss Joe.” before leaning over a little in her seat, ready for a smooch.
And then you paused, and you shouldn’t have. The pause gave everything away. It made your friend burst out laughing instantly.
“You don’t kiss like friends do!” she accused, but you were already wiping your hands and reaching for her face. You could plant one smacker right on her lips to convince her of your innocence if you had to. Sure. Why not.
“No, come here, I’ll show you.”
“Ew fuck off,” she laughed. “Next you’ll finger me on the sofa.”
And–
Um.
What?
Your friend was about to go for a sip of her drink when she saw your face, and then lowered her glass as her eyes grew to twice their size.
“Oh no, you’ve let him finger you on the sofa?”
You had.
You fucking had.
But you weren’t going to fucking tell her.
You felt heat flush your face, and shut the fuck up, you could not blush in front of her. She'd know! Your panic made her exclaim your name loudly, like she couldn’t believe what the fuck this well of information she’d just fallen into even was. But there was a wild joy there too. Like she was loving this obvious mess of a weird relationship you had with your flatmate, and was so excited to be discovering all of these crazy secrets.
You didn’t blame her.
“No,” you started, trying to be as convincing as you could. “I’ve not let him fi–” her laugh interrupted you, and you didn’t like how contagious it was. You tried again, trying to speak over your own and her laughter, “He has not fingered me on the sofa.”
He had.
“Oh?”
“... what?”
“Not on the sofa? But, elsewhere, he has?”
That too.
“Stop it!” you exclaimed, getting up to clear the table. “Of course he hasn’t, we’re flatmates for fuck’s sake!”
A pair of eyes narrowed at you in suspicion.
“You sure?”
“Oh, my God. Imagine if I wasn’t?” You laughed, and she laughed with you. It deflated the tension you felt in your gut from lying by just enough to keep the nervous sweat from your brow.
You diverted the attention to different things quite quickly, and your friend soon dropped the whole ordeal, what with it being obvious that it was clearly making you uncomfortable. Your adamant denying was no fun to listen to anyway.
But something nagged at you.
Why had she immediately assumed there was more to you and Joe and then... didn’t seem all that fussed?
Well, she did seem fussed. But she also didn’t.
She hadn’t even asked if you liked him. If you were into Joe like that. Like it wasn’t really a huge deal.
Which, yea, she was right, because it wasn’t. You’d been telling yourself it wasn’t. Spent a lot of time convincing yourself that it wasn’t.
But how come it took her only two seconds to agree with you before she swiftly carried on talking about her own problems?
It bothered you more than you let on, and it kind of simmered on in the back of you mind for the rest of the evening. Kept you staring into space and not really listening to whatever she was telling you. Had you almost consider confessing that, actually, you lied and Joe had fingered you on the sofa. Big whoops. And right where she was sitting, too.
It kind of gradually happened a couple weeks ago and you hadn’t talked about it afterwards.
Of course you hadn’t.
You never talked.
But you should have.
Not that you’d know what to say.
What would you even say?
Thank you?
You’d done that once, and Joe had been all weird after.
You didn’t talk going into anything, and you didn’t talk after. And it had all been fine up until... well, now, probably.
No.
Actually... it was still fine.
Right?
You were just flatmates who did things sometimes. No judgement. Just in the moment enjoyment and comfortability. A natural fluidity that had just grown between the two of you over time.
You tried to shake it off as you got ready for bed in Joe’s bedroom on your own. Joe was still out. Would be for a little while too. Night shoot, or a party, something. Whatever. You’d not paid attention because your heart had been in your throat as he explained where he was going. Your friend had just seen the two of you jump apart in the kitchen when she walked back in, and so focusing on whatever information Joe was giving you was a little too big of an ask.
But then you couldn’t shake it off.
Because even though Joe had made the comment that his bed had started smelling of you now, Joe’s bed still smelled of Joe to you, and now every single thing that had lingered in the back of your mind got hurled right into the forefront.
That day.
That first time.
You’d been in such an awful mood that day. Ended up having to work late to rectify mistakes others had made, and then, when you finally got home, were met by a full sink of dishes in the kitchen, dirty plates and glasses on the counter right next to it. There was evidence of Joe having started trying to tidy it all up, but then clearly, he hadn’t finished the job.
When you opened the dishwasher you knew why.
It was full of clean but still wet dishes that he hadn’t wanted to towel dry before putting it all away.
Great.
Sometimes having a flatmate was great.
Other times, it was really fucking annoying.
“Joe?” you called, using a dirty fork to check if any of the dishes inside of the sink were yours.
“Yea?”
He was reading something aloud in his bedroom when you’d walked in, and you knew you were interrupting him as he did his job. But, fuck it. None of these dishes were yours.
“Would you mind not being the worst flatmate tonight?”
Harsh. But Joe jogged in and knew exactly what you meant, “Yea, sure, in a second. Look what I got!”
In a second.
Ugh.
Joe walked over to the TV and then stepped aside to reveal a small plant.
You gave it a dry stare before sarcastically commenting, “Wonderful.” and turning around to begrudgingly start on the dishes yourself.
“What? You were saying how this area needed some greenery, did you not?” Joe touched one of the green leafs proudly. He really thought he picked a good one.
“Yea,” you scoffed. “But I meant like, a big palm for in the corner, or one of those, I don’t know, huge monstera ones, with the big leafs, that can grow up to the ceiling.” You complained. Loved complaining for a second. Really enjoyed swimming in negativity as you fished all dirty dishes from the sink and placed them with the plates and glasses on the side.
“Yea, I guess that would be more impressive than this,” Joe said softly, still looking at the little asplenium. He’d picked the pot himself too, and the lady said that the small plant was called crispy wave and wasn’t that just exactly the right description for it too? “But we could do both. We could still get a larger one for next to it. And then it’ll have a buddy.”
You barely heard Joe over the clattering of cutlery in the sink.
“Hey, I said I’d do that in a second,” Joe finally zoned back in after a particular loud clang and made his way over.
“Yea but I didn’t ask you to not be the worst flatmate tonight in a second, though, did I? Have to do everything in this fucking place.”
You didn’t. You knew that. But it was negativity hours and Joe was just going to have to understand you didn’t mean half the shit you were going to be moaning about.
You pushed dishes aside on the counter to make room for a handful of forks and knives whilst Joe got his hands on your shoulders, doing his best to carefully move you aside.
“Let me–”
“No, you’ll just–”
The loud smash of a glass to tile interrupted you. Slipped right off the edge of the counter. It was one of Joe’s nicer ones. One that looked like a vintage tumbler – it wasn’t actually vintage – that he kept out on display on one of the shelves.
The both of you just stared at it for a second, and then you decided that you couldn’t actually deal with any of the mess. The dirty dishes. Joe’s stupid small plant. The broken glass. Shards all over the kitchen floor.
So you just, left.
Turned around and walked right into the hallway.
Left Joe alone to deal with the ramifications of which you would argue were his own doing.
Shouldn’t have left all this mess.
Shouldn’t have all of his friends over for lunch just because he could.
Shouldn’t have used his nice tumblers.
And people at work shouldn’t be such fucking idiots.
The universe was awful and everyone could die.
There.
But then, before you’d even walked into your bedroom, you’d already decided it was actually all your fault, and Joe’d done nothing wrong, and you were going to get him a new tumbler.
You took a minute to breathe. To sit within your feelings. Wiped a stupid tear from your eye before it could fall down. Changed into something more comfortable and raked a brush through your hair in an attempt to detangle the day out of it.
When you walked back into the living area, Joe was stood hunched beside the counter, probably inspecting the floor for bits of forgotten glass, which was... just perfect.
You walked over in silence and then simply just, climbed on board. Slung your arms around his neck and let your full bodyweight sink onto his back as you pulled your knees up and around his sides.
“Hey, wha–”
Joe nearly lost his balance and shot one hand out to a cabinet to keep himself steady whilst the other one grabbed onto one of your arms.
“What’s going on? Everything okay?”
Your chest tightened at how worried and sincere he sounded.
Joe stood up straight, and got both his arms around your legs to keep you in place on his back.
“I’ll replace it.” you murmured.
“The glass?”
Joe felt you nod against the side of his head as you cheek pressed against one of his ears.
“Ah, s’just a glass, don’t worry about it.”
“And your plant’s cute.”
It was as close to an apology as he was going to get from you. Joe felt you sigh against him and he turned his head in an attempt to look at you.
“Have you eaten?” he asked softly.
You had. Stupid tesco’s meal deal at your desk. You understood why he asked though.
“Mhmm.” you confirmed.
“Good. You ready for dessert?”
Joe let you hold onto him, but it quickly became impossible to stay in your piggyback position. You nearly choked him as you attempted to stay on, but you slid off when he started emptying the dishwasher.
You both laughed, and then you snorted, and then you both laughed at how you’d snorted.
Joe’d gotten little pots of chocolate mousse, the cheap stuff that your mother used to pretend was a special dessert for special occasions only which you believed until you were a teenager. Felt silly now, but they still felt a little special. You had yours sat at the island whilst you watched Joe clean the kitchen.
Got to stare at how his muscles moved underneath his white T-shirt.
How his hands moved as he grabbed onto things.
His fingers.
When Joe closed the loaded dishwasher and turned around, he was met with his flatmate’s half-lidded eyes. His flatmate who had her head propped up in a hand, who had her spoon hanging from her mouth.
Joe theatrically spread his arms out and gave a little bow.
“There. All tidy. Not the worst flatmate tonight.”
He truly wasn’t.
Even if he’d left the mess for what it was.
Joe didn’t even need to suggest spending the rest of the night on the sofa together. It’s where you naturally migrated to as you had your last spoonful of dessert and he wiped down the counters to really finish off the job.
You’d sat down first, and when Joe let himself fall into the cushions beside you, he leant into you a little and stuck his chin out. When you just looked at him a second, he tapped his cheek with a finger, asking for a little thank you kiss. It instantly made you grin.
It was stupid how large the shift in your mood was from when you’d walked in earlier.
But look at him!
All... cheeky and cute.
It was kind of impossible not to cheer up just by being around him.
And cheeky was right, because when you easily gave in and went to press a kiss to his cheek, Joe turned his head at the last moment and got you right on the lips.
You gasped, said his little plant wasn’t that nice, which made him laugh loudly, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut.
Making Joe laugh like that was different. Made you feel all giddy and secretly proud as you got comfortable in your little spot on the sofa.
“All right, I’ll move it to where you won’t have to look at it all the time.” Joe joked. You frowned, asked, “Where?” because the flat wasn’t that big. You’d see it all the time no matter where it would be.
“I don’t know,” Joe said, moving a throw pillow and stuffing it behind his back. “Your bedroom, maybe.”
Oh.
Yea, all right.
“Fuck off.”
You gave Joe a deadpan stare as he giggled, far too happy with his own little joke.
Even though lighthearted and sort of adorable, that got a little too close to acknowledging what you were doing.
You didn’t talk.
Well, you talked, but never about it. And you liked it that way.
Once you and Joe got close, you kind of didn’t want to stay away anymore. Speaking thoughts, and feelings, and rational musings into the air might make you decide on silly shit like, maybe you shouldn’t anymore.
Maybe you shouldn’t have Joe squeeze a hand in between your legs just above your knees for comfort.
Maybe you shouldn’t get cosy and rub your cupid’s bow against his bicep as Joe flicked through channels.
Maybe you shouldn’t so readily accept kisses pressed into your hair, and maybe you shouldn’t hum to them either. Close your eyes to them. Tip your head back to look Joe in the eye and kiss him on the mouth after.
Maybe you shouldn’t let Joe snake an arm across your waist and tuck his fingers into the elastic waist band of your joggers as you lazily make out on the sofa for a bit.
What you definitely shouldn’t have done, was nudge closer and open your legs a little as you felt Joe’s fingers press into the skin just above your underwear.
Shouldn’t have nodded when Joe rested his forehead against yours for a second and whispered a breathy, “Yea?”
Shouldn’t have gasped as Joe touched you over your underwear first.
Absolutely shouldn’t have moaned as Joe moved fabric aside.
Shouldn’t have whispered his name when you noticed how he was biting back his own groans.
Shouldn’t have redirected his thumb when it wasn’t really in the right spot, and then really shouldn’t have shuddered when it found exactly the right spot.
But it had happened.
And then you didn’t talk after.
Should have.
Didn’t.
And then it happened a bunch more.
Shouldn’t have.
But did.
And now your friend sort of knew, and why the fuck had she not reacted in the way that you thought she would react? Was this not a huge deal?!
You laid in Joe’s bed, in one of Joe’s T-shirts, surrounded by Joe’s things, and, no. It was all too much. And he wasn’t even there.
For the first time in weeks you decided to leave Joe’s bed for what it was and go across the hall to find your own to sleep in.
It felt a little like getting into a hotel bed. Not quite like your own, but comfortable none the less.
The last thing you saw before you switched off the lights was that stupid little plant that Joe had put on your dresser.
Big mistake.
Shouldn’t have done that.
---
The Taglisted
@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma77645, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo
taglist currently full, sorry
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notsoattractivearenti · 4 months
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Wanna Prove It? (Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader)
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WC: 800+
Warnings/Tags: pure fluff
A/N: a short one cuz i need to get it out of my system lol. he really is gonna be a great dad one day to our children cuz christian and babies = 🫠😍💗💗💗! btw no it's not dad!pulisic (y'all gotta wait until christmas 😋). anyway hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍 (ps: if you want to be added in my taglist just lmk!)
Christian and I are having a chill night in, and we spend most of the night laying on our couch with TV on. He gets up into the kitchen to get us some ice cream while I scroll through my Instagram feed on my phone – until I stumble across a video posted by USMNT of Matt Turner and Tim Ream answering a couple of "dad" questions. Just in time, Christian walks back into the living room holding a pint of ice cream and two spoons in his hands.
“Babe, have you seen the video USMNT just posted on Instagram?”
“What video?” He replies.
I show the post to him briefly as he sits back and puts the ice cream and spoons on the table in front of us.
“Oh it’s Matt and Tim! I thought it was another VW video I did!” He laughs. “ I haven’t seen it. Let me have a look.”
“Watch it until the end, I think you’re going to love it.” I suggest as I hand my phone and grab the ice cream.
He watches the short clip and makes some little comments during. He isn’t aware at the moment but from my point of view, excitement is written clearly on his face. There’s no denying he genuinely loves his national teammates (or as he usually calls them: buddies) – he does have some wonderful bonds with most of them.
“Yeah, I can see Joe and Brenden being terrific dads.” He agrees with one of Matt’s answers on the video.
“Wh- Aww, stop it.” Christian slightly blushes when Matt stated Christian would be a great dad and Tim agreed with it. “They’re so nice for saying that.”
“I do love their kids. They’re adorable and sweet!” He excitedly adds. “Also, who doesn’t love to hold babies!?”
“People who don’t like babies, I suppose.” I spontaneously answer him with a mouth full of ice cream – even though he doesn’t ask for one.
“Well, I think they are missing out on one of the best things in the world.” He comments back and it makes me chuckle.
I want to get more reaction from him so I ask him, “Do you think they’re right? That you’re going to be a great dad?”
“Uh…” He pauses. “Do you?”
“Hey, I asked you first!” I jokingly point my finger at him. “Don’t turn it back at me.”
“I mean, I hope I will…” He shyly hesitates. “But I don’t know. I don’t want to sound so cocky...”
“I know you will.” I wink at him.
His face suddenly turns pinkish red but his eyes lighten up so quickly.
“Y/N…”
“Say what you want Chris, but you know I’m right.” I try to convince him.
“Maybe…” Though he sounds unsure, he still agrees with me. “You know, I’m glad you think that way.”
With a spoon still in my mouth, I give him a little smile and nod my head. “Mmhm, you’re most welcome.”
The conversation ends there and we go back to finishing our pint of ice cream - or so I thought.
“You wanna prove it?” He breaks the brief silence.
“Huh.” I think I know what he’s implying but I’m not quite sure. “Prove what?”
“We can make a baby right now and prove I’m capable of being a great dad.” He smirks as he gently grabs my shoulder, pulls me closer then whispers in my ear, “We don’t need to wonder no more…”
Yup. That is exactly what I thought when he said “prove it”. Now it’s my face that turns so red and I nearly choke on my ice cream when he whispered so seductively. Oh, he surely knows how to get me good – what a cheeky man my boyfriend is!
“Christian Mate Pulisic!” I playfully gasp. “You can’t be serious!”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” He laughs seeing me so visibly flushed. “I am just offering something you and I both want, sweetheart.”
“Why are you so sure I want it?”
“Well, I mean, you literally talked about always wanting to have babies on our first date, didn’t you?” He states. “You can’t deny it. I remember every word you said, Y/N.”
“And I remember I specifically said one day when I’m finally ready, Chris!” I clarify his statement before he continues. “I am totally not there yet.”
“Okay, but you do want babies right? So my offer still stands.” He moves his eyebrows up and down while giving me a cheeky grin.
“Oh…” I cover my face and shake my head. “Of course but not now, babe! Besides, if I get pregnant today, it’ll be like… A teen pregnancy!”
“You’re in your 20s, Y/N!” He cackles at my remark.
“Still! I feel like I’m way too young to have a baby. I’m still one myself!” I jokingly whine.
“My God, Y/N, you are a baby.” He says sarcastically. “I’m just messing with you, my love.”
“I know, Chris, I’m not dumb.”
“Don’t worry, no need to rush, yeah? We can definitely wait.” He kisses my forehead. “‘Cause you’re the only baby mama I want.”
taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover
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lyrenminth · 7 months
Text
Caught
Warning: +18, degradation kink, piv, use of sex toys
Joe spent most of the time out, in meetings, practices and recordings. You didn't have so much problem most times, but you will be lying if you said you didn't feel lonely. It was hard, specially when you were horny which with a man like that...well, you needed to get distractions. 
So you bought a sex toy. It was a magic wand, and during those lonely times you found pleasure  in that way. You never told Joe because, well...it was casual use and when you had sex you never brought it up. It was a secret.
Until he caught you using it.
He told you via message he wasn't going to be late and if you needed something he could pick on his way home. You never reached to check your phone for the messages. You were so lost in your own world of pleasure that you never heard him get into the house or opening the bedroom's door. 
What you could hear was a strained. "What the...?"
You stopped, sat on the bed, closing your legs like you got caught stealing or something. You breath was unsteady, your hair a mess, and you skin so sensitive due to the previous orgasm. Quickly, you turned off the magic wand and hide it casually under a pillow.
"Oh, I thought you were going to be late" you stated, your mouth dry. You felt equally sensitive down there, somehow being caught turned you on even more.
Joe's eyes were staring the sex toy hidden under the pillow, then your face and finally your closed legs. 
He cleared his throat before speaking. "No, we finished earlier" you saw him gulp "I send you a text"
"Oh, that's good" you searched for you phone on the night stand. There was a message sent twenty minutes ago. You blushed.
"What's that?" he pointed at the pillow, getting closer until he sat on the edge of the bed, close to your feet. He obviously knew, but he wanted you to tell him.
You flushed. "Ummm it's a vibrator"
His blue eyes were cautious, and you didn't know how to react. "Are you been using it...often?" he asked out of curiosity.
"Only when I feel...like...you know" you shrugged, suddenly shy.
"It feels...good?" he wondered, staring at your closed legs.
"Not like you" you squirmed, feeling the heat.
He inhaled loudly. "Show me" he ordered.
"What?" you mouth went dry, a knot forming in your belly.
"Show me how do you use it" he demanded.
"Oh, Joe that's not...I mean..." you uncovered the magic wand, holding it for him to see. He inspect it closely, even smell it before return it to you.
"Show me" he grabbed your ankle to move your legs aside and spread you open. You moaned, involuntarily. His touch burned your sensitive skin.  You laid on the bed, trying to control your shaking hands. Before you could put the toy on your vulva, Joe opened  your labia with his fingers to see, it was a quick touch but it felt so intimate that you were out of breath.
"You're are wet" he sounded interested, calm. In control as he always was.
"Yes" you gasped.
"Does this turned you on?" he asked, lowering his eyelashes.
"Yes"
"Go ahead" he said.
You turned it on. The vibration and your heavy breathing were the only sounds in the room. You put the toy on your clit, the vibrations giving you the stimulation you needed. You move it below, up and down. You raised your head to watch Joe, and he was so focused and serious watching your masturbate that you arched your back struggling to keep your mouth shut. 
"Poor girl, I neglected you so bad, don't I?" he asked you when your eyes met.
"Yes" you moaned. A tight knot started building below your bellybutton, on your core, your spine... everywhere. It felt like electricity.
"You should have told me" his raspy voice came to your ears. He took the toy from your hand and turned it off, you whined, confused. Joe sat on the bed, his back against the headboard and pulled you to him. Your back pressed against his chest, he took the toy. "Open your legs, baby" he ordered, his deep voice gave you shivers. You obeyed.
One arm held you by your waist, while his hand holding the toy moved down. Joe put the head of the wand on you clit and turned it on at the lowest level. You moaned, lost in his strong arms.
"Don't tell me you prefer this over my cock, darling" he murmured "I'd have to prove you wrong" he pressed the wand all over your slit, and you squirmed, trying to get away but somehow rocking your hips up to be closer. "Such a little whore" his words ignite something inside you. "Joe, please" you grasped his arm, squeezing it. "Please, what?" he increased the level, the vibration became more intense and you tried to closed your legs, but he used his own legs to kept you open. "Look at you, look how messy you are" when he moved the wand over your clit, you cried, desesperated to find a released, your walls clenching around nothing and you felt so empty and ecstatic at the same time. "Just like that, baby" he praised you, as you reached your shaky orgasm, you mind went foggy for a second. When you opened your eyes, Joe was hugging you, his lips on you neck and big hands massaging your breasts.
"Are you not angry?" you asked, trying to look at him.
He frowned. "For what?"
"Using sex toys"
"Nah, I like to see you all horny" he said, "But you better do something about this" he moved his hips up and you felt the erection. You turned around, pulling his pants and underwear down, releasing his erection. Joe was well trimmed, and really thick, something you always like about him. "Ride me" he ordered. Your turned your back to him, with a smiled. "Yes, sir" he spanked you twice before getting inside you. It felt so good, you took a time to get used to his size "Move" another spank. "You feel so good, Joe" you said, moving up and down. After a couple of minutes, he changed positions moving your forward, until you were on your knees and arms. He started pushing forward, each thrust better than the other. One of his hands reached down your clit, rubbing it. You moaned, pressure building again. Having Joe fuck you like this would never compared to any toy. Ever.
"Fuck" he groaned, increasing his pace.
The pressure of your belly, the sounds he was making, your clit sending electricity all over your legs was too much to bare. "Joe, oh my god, don't stop please" you cried, face planting on the mattress. You felt such a relieve after your orgarm that you didn't even realized when he cum inside you. When his body embrace yours, you still were shaking a little bit. He bit your earlobe to wake you up. "Feeling tired, baby?" he asked.
"And thirsty" you nodded. "Mmm, let me get you water then" he said, starting to stand up. "I love your cock" you said out of nowhere, but you mean it. He gave you the cockiest smiled ever. "I appreciate it" he said, getting into the bathroon to bring two towels. You rolled over to laid on your back, when he came back he tried to cleaned you but you were sore. "I'll do it" you said, hissing.
"I'll bring you water then" he cleaned himself and then got out, he appeared a few minutes later with a glass of water. "Here"
You loved aftercare, and Joe was the best at it. He sat on the mattress, and reached for magic wand. "Why you never told me you have one of these?"
"I don't know" it was partialy true. "My ego is not that fragile, you know?" he stared at you. You took a few sips before answering. "I'm glad you have no problem with it, some men get defensive" you declared. "Well, if this gives you more pleasure go on" he shrugged, then smirked "Record yourself next time" he said.
"Would you like that?"
"For sure, it shocked me a bit today but that was hot as hell" he said, laughing.
"Good, I will"
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Text
time stops, though you don’t take a breath (renga)
aka boiling rock but renga written for @capt-snoozles alta / sk8 au
word count: 1,940
~
There was nothing quite like the feeling of Reki’s hair tickling his chin. His hair was so soft and had enough poof for Langa to bury his face in it.
“Langa,” Reki giggled, turning his head so he could look at his boyfriend. “You’re gonna mess it up!”
A soft whine escaped his throat as Reki turned, causing Langa’s chin to slip. “Mmm,” he grumbled, squeezing his arms tighter around Reki’s middle.
Reki sighed and shifted back to where he was before, allowing Langa access to replant his face in the ginger’s hair. “There you go, you big baby.”
Normally, Langa’s cheeks would’ve turned a bright shade of red at the comment, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care right now. It hadn’t even been a day since the group escaped Boiling Rock, and Langa was determined not to let Reki out of his sight for awhile.
The impromptu trip to the prison was to free Hakoda, Cherry, Joe, and Shadow. To be honest, Langa had not been prepared to find Reki or Suki there too. He thought that Boiling Rock was for high security prisoners like supposed war criminals and people who committed treason. He didn’t think the Fire Nation would send two kids there.
Langa could still feel the pang in his chest and the breath of air rushing in his lungs when Sokka had cried Suki’s name. He could still remember the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins when he looked over the balcony and saw not only Suki sitting on a bench, but also Reki.
Reki did something to him that nothing else could. Reki made him feel strong and whole and like anything was possible.
That was probably why, in the heat of the moment, Langa had attempted to jump off the building and into the courtyard.
Yeah, he could also still feel the pressure of Zuko’s arms wrapping around his chest and forcing him back onto the balcony and Sokka’s calloused palm when he slapped a hand over Langa’s mouth to prevent him from screaming Reki’s name and blowing their cover.
Suddenly, their plans had changed. There were two more people they needed to rescue because Langa was not going to leave Reki behind. Not again.
“What’re you thinking about?”
The glorious, heavenly sound of Reki’s voice drew him back to the present and Langa blinked. “You,” he answered truthfully.
Reki blushed, his cheeks turning nearly the same shade of his hair, and Langa hid a soft smile behind one of his curls. “Langa!” Reki pouted.
Spirits, Langa missed him.
“I was, though,” Langa said. “I missed you.”
At that, Reki smiled, the blush (unfortunately) fading. “I missed you too,” he replied softly.
There was nothing like the warmth that filled Langa’s body when he reunited with Reki to escape. They hadn’t been able to tell the redhead their plan in advance due to his echolalia, so Langa still hadn’t been able to hear his voice or hold him or tell him how much he loved him. They had to rely on Suki to relay the message shortly before the escape.
Langa had wanted to abandon the cooler—let Sokka and Zuko roll it down—the instant he saw Reki. And he almost did. It was only Zuko’s quiet “Don’t you dare” through gritted teeth that prevented him from doing so.
Then they were on the ground and Reki was there. He was just a few feet away.
So, Langa opened his arms and Reki came running—
Nothing compared to holding Reki—nothing except perhaps being held by Reki.
The second that Reki had made it to him, the second their arms were around each other, Langa had lifted him up, twirling him around. Reki’s mouth was pressed against the nape of Langa’s neck, so only he could hear his boyfriend’s laughter. Despite how muffled it was, it still filled the night in Langa’s ears.
Reki instinctively wrapped his legs around Langa’s waist the second his feet were off the ground, and Langa didn’t put him down for awhile, even after he stopped spinning. He didn’t want to let go.
Normally, he wouldn’t be able to hold Reki in the air this long—he didn’t have the strongest upper body—but this was Reki and it had been months since they last saw each other. It helped that he firmly planted his feet into the ground once he stopped spinning, and he thanked the Spirits for giving him incredible leg strength.
It also helped that Reki felt a lot lighter than usual, but that wasn’t good.
Langa shuddered at the memory of realizing that Reki was much easier to lift, and when his gaze flickered to Suki (who was having a whispered conversation with Zuko and Sokka), he noticed that she looked thinner than normal too.
And oh, how his blood boiled.
No, he hadn’t put Reki down until after they decided to stay and see if Hakoda, Cherry, Joe, and Shadow were arriving with the next batch of prisoners., despite Reki’s protests and Chit Sang’s complaints that they were disgusting (and they were used to it—they’d heard it all from Miya).
That was when he’d seen the dark bruise coloring Reki’s stomach. He saw it for the briefest of moments when Reki had lifted his arms to stretch after being put down, but they didn’t have time for that now.
“You okay?”
Again, it was Reki who grounded him, it always was. His voice was the gravity that pulled him back to the present and held him there.
“I was…” Langa trailed off, licking his lips. “I was so worried about you.” And then it all came rushing back—finding out that Reki was gone, that the Kyoshi Warriors that came to help were Azula and her friends, the pure rage that filled his body and consumed his mind when Azula said Reki’s name during the battle of Black Sun. Langa suddenly felt like crying all over again. “You were… you were there one day and then you were gone. Reki, I couldn’t—I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re amazing, Reki, you’re the most important thing in my life.”
Reki’s face softened and he squirmed until one of his arms escaped Langa’s hold, lifting it up and placing it gently on Langa’s cheek. “Hey, I’m okay,” he assured. Although it was a moment of comfort, something to help him calm down, all Langa could see was his bare wrist.
“Wait. Where are your friendship bracelets?”
Reki shifted uncomfortably. “They took them. We weren’t allowed to have anything with us when we got there so…”
Langa scrunched his nose. “But… your wrists. You need them or you scratch and hurt yourself.”
At that, Reki scoffed lightly. “I know you care about my tics, but the Fire Nation doesn’t. It’s not a big deal.”
But it was a big deal. When Langa squinted, he could see red marks on Reki’s wrist. He could seen faint lines where his nails had dug into his skin. It wasn’t fair; Reki didn’t deserve that.
“Hey, Shadow?” Langa called, raising his voice so the man in question would hear it from across the room (everyone could see that the two boys needed some personal time together so they gave them some space, but Joe, Cherry, and Shadow were still a bit on edge and didn’t want to let them out of their sight).
Shadow looked up from his own hushed conversation with Cherry and Joe. “What’s up? Are you okay?”
“We’re fi—“ Reki began, but Langa wouldn’t allow that.
“They took Reki’s friendship bracelets,” he explained, frowning. “Can you make him more?”
The older waterbender’s face shifted from confusion to understanding, and he sent the two boys a small smile. “Of course. Joe, you feel up to making some more charms?”
Joe cracked his knuckles, wiggling his fingers. “You bet I am!”
“And you’ll actually make them good this time?” Cherry said casually, twisting a strand of hair.
The comment made Joe’s eye twitch, and suddenly Shadow was stuck trying to break the two up again. Langa couldn’t tell whether they were trying to strangle each other or if they were making out, but either way, he did not envy Shadow.
Reki chuckled at the scene. “I missed them.” He tilted his head enough to look into Langa’s eyes, and blinked thrice. “You didn’t need to do that, you know.”
“Maybe. But I wanted to,” Langa said seriously (and Reki’s face flushed again—Spirits, it was the cutest thing). “You’re hurt. They hurt you.”
“They just took some string. It—“
“But they’re important to you and they help you so you don’t scratch yourself! And when you lifted your arms the other day I saw…” Langa swallowed, taking deep breaths because he couldn’t cry right now. “I saw a bruise. I don’t know how many more there are—there’ve been. You’re too thin, you and Suki both. They hurt you, Reki.”
Reki faltered for the briefest of seconds, his lips trembling. “I… a lot has happened the last couple months,” he said eventually. “But I’m fine, okay? I’m fine.”
And since Langa knows Reki, he knows what I’m fine actually means and he doesn’t believe it for one second. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not. I’m fine now that I’m here with you,” Reki said, and oh, how Langa’s heart melted.
“But what about—“
“I’ll be okay,” Reki interrupted, his eyes wide and swimming with something that Langa couldn’t quite discern. “You’re here, right?”
Langa nodded perhaps a little too aggressively. “Mhm. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I know.” Reki clicked his tongue and his neck twitched. “We’re gonna get through this together, okay? All of this.”
“Okay,” Langa agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of Reki’s head. He paused and then said: “Are you hungry?”
There was a moment’s silence as Reki’s face twisted and he muttered the words under his breath a couple times. “Not really,” he eventually said, giving Langa an apologetic look.
That wouldn’t do. Reki needed to eat… but Langa wouldn’t force it. Not right now, at least. Everything’s happened so fast eating might be too much for him. Langa could still feel the adrenaline pumping in his chest (it hadn’t gone away. it had been there from the second they were running onto the gondola and a firebender had directed a burst of flames Reki’s way, from the moment Langa had shoved Reki behind him and drew water from the boiling lake below and doused the bender in it…) and he was sure Reki still felt it too (he could still see the way Reki’s chest had heaved when Ty Lee was about to hit Langa with her chi blocking—Reki hadn’t hesitated, he pushed himself between the two and blocked her fist).
“Okay. Are you thirsty?”
For a second, Langa was sure Reki was going to say “no”, to which he would’ve had to protest because who knows how much water the Fire Nation had given them while they were imprisoned. Luckily, though, after a moment’s thought, Reki nodded.
“Okay.”
Langa couldn’t help the wide grin that overcome him, and he (reluctantly) unwrapped a hand from around Reki’s waist and wiggled his fingers, popping the flask at his side open and bending the water inside so it floated to Reki’s face.
Reki rolled his eyes, playfully nudging Langa, but opened his mouth anyways, allowing Langa to direct the water inside.
“Thank you,” Reki murmured once Langa had bent the rest of the water back in the flask and made sure it was shut, snuggling closer to his boyfriend. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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kuroopaisen · 3 years
Text
a matter of taste || nanjo kojiro (joe)
➵ you need to ask kojiro something. in private. 
wc: 1.3k
warnings: f!reader
“Hey, Kojiro?” Your eyes are downcast and your voice so quiet it’s almost drowned out by the sound of his blood pulsing in his ears. The hallway’s sparsely populated with other teenagers, all of them disinterested in the two of you.
“Yeah?” He tries to keep his voice measured, perhaps even devil-may-care.
A moment of silence. You press your lips together, as though you’re grappling with your own thoughts.
Kojiro thinks he’s going to lose his mind.
“Can I talk to you?” You swallow, finally daring to meet his eyes. “Alone?”
You’re blushing, and you look so damn cute it’s taking everything within him to stop his mind – and his body, for that matter – from getting ahead of him.
“Sure,” he nods, trying his best to appear nonchalant.
You’ve never spoken to him like this before. Never so nervous, so… bashful. It looks cute on you.
He wonders if he should say something. Would calling you cute be too forward? Although, with how you’re acting, standing in front of him with pink cheeks and an air of general nervousness… maybe it’d be just the right thing to do.
Before he can say anything, you scuttle off, glancing over your shoulder as if to encourage him to follow.
He already knows where you’re leading him to; the roof is technically not a restricted area, but the implicit rule is that nobody has any good reason to be up there. Not that that’s ever stopped the now of you before.
His heart is racing at frankly unimaginable speeds now. Even skating doesn’t raise his pulse this much.
He jogs after you before you totally disappear from sight, his pulse beating in tandem with each leap up the stairwell.
Is this actually happening? Are you really about to confess to him?
He knows it’s not good to make assumptions, but he can’t help it. Why else would you be so secretive, so desperate to have this conversation away from prying eyes? And he’s been making a concerted effort to flirt with you more these days. Sure, you seem to play most of it off as a joke, but he can’t blame you for that. Maybe he needs to tease you less, give you a compliment or two.
You waste no time sitting yourself down on the concrete wall, resting your back against the metal bars that reach high above your head.
Kojiro sits himself down next to you, putting just a little distance between you. He can’t be brash – he won’t ruin this.  
The two of you sit in silence for a long moment as you chew your bottom lip, an expression of pure disconcertion on your face. Kojiro just watches you quietly with a gentle smile on his face.
He could get used to this side of you.  
“God, this is so embarrassing,” you groan, finally breaking your silence as you run a hand through your hair.
“Take your time,” Kojiro smiles, unsure as to how much longer he can hold out.
You close your eyes, cheeks flushed and fists clenched in your lap.
Maybe he should just take charge and put you ou—
“Do you know is Kaoru’s got a crush on anyone?”
Wait, what?
“Kaoru!?” Kojiro stares at you, mouth hanging open and heart dropping to his stomach. It’s too late for him to mitigate his reaction. He could only hope you’d read it as a joke.
“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow at him, a hint of hesitation in your voice. “What’s the matter?”
“Please don’t tell me you’ve got a thing for him,” he scoffs, running a hand through his hair. He’s running on instinct, not even bothering to hide the scowl marring his face.
Kaoru? Kaoru? You brought him up here to talk about Kaoru?
“Don’t be rude!” You whine, kicking his shin with your foot. Kojiro barely feels it.
But it’s enough of an answer.
It’s strange. He can’t quite describe what he’s feeling as melancholy. Even shock seems too severe. But he’s feeling something, something new, something palpable, something he doesn’t know how to untangle.
Disappointment? Regret? Pain? No, those all sound too extreme. This sadness is milder, but he already knows it will be more persistent. The mundanity makes it worse; it’s an ache, not a sting. And an ache always leaves a ghost behind, a phantom of pain you can never predict.
“What, do you have a thing for pretty boys then?” Kojiro sighs, leaning back on his palms.
You punch him in the arm. It doesn’t hurt.
He doesn’t respond to that, instead turning his attention to his shoes. You’re quiet for a long moment, fiddling your thumbs together. He probably shouldn’t find it cute, but he does. Fuck.
“I just think he’s cool,” you mumble, looking up at the sky.
“It’s the lip ring, isn’t it?”
You stick your tongue out at him and scrunch up your nose. “No. I liked him before I knew he had that dumb lip ring.”
It’s been that long?
Kojiro swallows, his thoughts crossing over each other and muddling together in his head.
How could he have gotten it so wrong? Sure, you’d been friends for ages, so any affection between you was natural. But Kojiro had felt that something new had been brewing, something that’d transform whatever existed before.
But nope. He’s just a fucking idiot.
“I have no idea if he’s into anyone,” Kojiro sighs, looking up at the sky.
It’s a nice day. Clear, but not too bright. Perfect conditions for skating.
Ironically enough, it feels the kind of day nobody would expect to get their heart broken on. You haven’t even rejected him – not directly – but that somehow makes it worse. If you’d turned him down, that’d be fine. The two of you could work past it.
But no. You had to go and have feelings for Kaoru.
Is it because he’s smarter? Because he seems like the kind of guy who’ll grow up rich? Or do you just have a thing for longer hair? Or maybe you like that cool, collected type.
It’s useless to speculate. It’s not like he’s going to change himself – and he doesn’t want to. It’s dumb. He’s dumb. He just wants to go to the dock and practice. Slam his board against a few walls and work his frustration out.
“I can ask him, if you want,” he says. That, more than anything, felt like accepting defeat.
“Don’t do that,” you whine, “that’s so… childish.”
“Well are you gonna ask him yourself?” He snorts. He’s trying to play it off. Trying to keep you in the dark.
Your cheeks burn once more, but now Kojiro finds them painful to look at.
“No,” you shake your head. “I mean, I’ve been dropping hints, but I don’t think he’s noticed…”
“He’s not good at picking up on that sort of thing,” Kojiro shrugs. The conversation is so casual it’s almost as if he didn’t feel like someone had stuck their hand into his guts and messed them around.
The last thing he wants to do is advise you on how to woo Kaoru of all people. He’s not a masochist.
But you’re his friend. You have been for so, so long. You trust him with this. That meant something, right? It’d be pretty lame of him to brush you off, wouldn’t it?
It’s fine, Kojiro tells himself. It’s fine.
Other girls have shown interest in him. It’s not like he’s undesirable – he could definitely get a girlfriend if he tried. He knows that. And hey, if the two of you had become romantically involved, that’d probably just complicate things.
This is for the best.
This pain in his chest, this discomfort rooting itself through his gut… it will pass.
Kojiro tries to smile, but he can’t make it reach his eyes.
You’re too preoccupied with the sky to notice.
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yelenasdog · 3 years
Text
heavy is the head that wears the crown (mob!arvin russell x fem! pastor’s daughter! reader)
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genre: angst+fluff
summary: arvin had always heard the saying “heavy is the head that wears the crown” but never truly understood what it meant. not until now
words: 4.06k
warnings: since this is based off of a tdatt, family death, mentions of death, mentions of mobs, kissing, marriage, murder, smoking, suicide, cancer and i think that’s it. it’s also kinda melodramatic, and i haven’t watched tdalt in a while so a lot could be plot inaccurate also idk anything abt the mob or mafia so like dont k*ll me thx i just like joe pesci
a/n: first, i owe the amazing concept of mob!arv to @kelieah ! so go follow her for more mob!arvin goodness!! basically i’m obsessed w 90s mob movies and watched goodfellas and casino and few too many times lately and oops here we r! i tried to write this from the narrator in tdatt’s view, so if u wanna read it like that then cool! btw the pic w the dress is just an idea of the dress reader is wearing not what she looks like! ok enjoy i’ll stop rambling
·。·。·。
“So, Arvin. I was told you paint houses? That true?”
Arvin hesitated, opening his mouth and closing it again. He wasn’t a painter, no, he killed people. For a price, that is.
But rather than saying no, the jab in his side from his uncle told him to answer otherwise.
“Yes, sir. It is.”
The Pastor nodded, taking a drag from his cigar, imported all the way from Cuba. He then placed what was left of the long stick in the crystal tray in front of him, the tapping of it on the reflective surface seeming almost deafening.
“Can all your family be traced down to one place, son?”
Arvin gulped, avoiding his eyes, darting his own around the heavily decorated room. Another jab to his side. He winced, meeting the older man’s eyes. He may not know much about the life he was about to enter, but he knew enough about what that meant.
“Yes, sir. They can be, minus my father and my mother. They’re gone.”
Not even a full beat of silence later, the Pastor spoke.
“How’d he die?”
Arvin was taken aback, though he knew that question was coming. His jaw clenched, as did his fist by his side. If the Pastor noticed, he didn’t speak on it, barely lifting his eyes from the document resting on his desk.
“Suicide, after the war.”
“And your mother?”
He took his lip in between his teeth, feeling the skin break, the tears well in his eyes for reasons he would excuse as the pain he was inflicting.
“Cancer. It happened when I was young, I didn’t barely even know her.”
The pastor looked up, slimming his eyes. This time he did notice the glimmering droplets, welling up in his chestnut colored eyes, threatening to fall. He appreciated the boy’s attempt to keep his emotions in check in front of his would be superior, leaning back into his chair.
“It’s alright, boy. You’re allowed to cry, it was your mother.” His southern accent was thick like molasses, his words drawing out. Arvin still felt that it wasn’t acceptable, though, so he only sniffled and directed his chin further up towards the ceiling. He stood there for a while, nerves running through his every cell. It was electric, like white lighting making its way through his veins at a painstakingly slow pace.
“Right then.”
The pastor stood, walking towards Arvin and his uncle. His expensive loafers tapped along the cold floor as he went, the sound pestering to the ears of Arvin, taunting him. He reached a soft hand out, which the boy standing opposite to him gladly took. He observed how the Pastor’s hand was without scars, calluses. Anything that would point to evidence of him being a killer, doing his own dirty work (or “the Lord’s work” as he liked to put it).
“Welcome to the family, son.”
And as Arvin smiled widely and shook his hand with an iron grip, he began to wonder what his new life would entail doing the “Lord’s work”.
He thought he had a pretty good idea, but boy, was he wrong.
“So, how’d it go?”
It was later, and Arvin was sitting with one his most favorite people, Y/n. The pair were resting in an open field, the wildflowers around her just almost competing with the beauty she held. He bashfully looked to the dirt under his shoes, noticing how only inches away, her hands picked at the damp grass.
“Went well, I think. He told me I’m ‘part of the family now’.”
She smiled at him, and in that moment with her hair so widely astray, and wearing that pale blue dress he adored so much, Arvin’s heart felt a certain emotion he hadn’t necessarily felt for someone at this multitude before. He had felt it for Lenora, his mother, his aunt and uncle. But it was different, then. Because now as he sat with her by his side, his love for her was realized at its full potential.
She began to ramble on, congratulating him on becoming a member of her father’s so called “family”, telling him how proud she was. He couldn’t keep focused on the sweet words that were falling from her lips like honey, though, as he was too caught up in his own head, his own thoughts.
“Arv?” She asked, voice laced with slight concern, but mostly with curiosity.
“Sorry, darlin’. Just thinking.”
She blushes, it’s the first time he’s called her that before. She tries to carry on conversation, though with her heart beating through that pretty dress of her’s, it was a bit difficult.
“About what?” She questioned, doing her very best not to pry too far, to be invasive in the very reserved Arvin’s mind.
Truthfully? He was promising himself that he would marry her one day, make her his wife. But telling her that he was only thinking “‘bout the future” would have to do. I mean, truthfully, he really was!
So he answered her, and she was content with said answer, abandoning the subject and returning to many praises for Arv. The standards for the “family” were high, and though she believed in him fiercely, she knew that at his core Arvin was the sweetest soul she’d ever met, and she was skeptical he could put that aside to do whatever the job would require.
“Arvin?”
He looked up, and she nearly lost her breath. It was Arvin’s sunkissed skin, tanned from working under the hot sun, the beams beating down on him. Or perhaps it was the freckles that lightly dusted his crooked nose, like a constellation from the cosmos above. Maybe even it was the mop that sat on his head, the color all the same of those sweet brown eyes of his. Whatever it was, she felt it could only mean one thing.
Y/n Y/l/n was confident she loved Arvin Russell.
“Hmm?” He asked, tilting his head like a confused canine. Adorably endearing, she thought.
And though she had much to say, she was afraid that if he were the dog in question, then the puppy had got her tongue, so to say.
“Y/n/n?” The boy said, nudging her with his elbow, making a melodious giggle erupt from her chest. “What, cat got your tongue?” Arvin teased, and she only shook her head and smiled, as he had no idea how correct he really was.
“You could say that.”
The two shared laughs over the exchange, and at some point (neither of them are quite sure when, how, or who leaned in first), their lips connected in a short and sweet kiss. It seemed that it only lasted for a moment, and as soon as they pulled apart, Arvin and Y/n both were dying for more.
But they resisted, Arvin reaching out a cautious hand to entangle with hers. She bashfully grinned, as did he (though he did his best to resist).
“Y/n, I really like you.” He had said, his thumb running small circles upon her skin. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you like me too.”  He laughed, nervous notes to the sound.
“And well, I was wondering if you’d like to be my girlfr-”
And with a light groan, Y/n had wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing both of them to the ground. She connected their lips, the kiss so oddly blunt, an attack on his lips that he had no plan of fighting off. His hands found her hair, and her’s moved to the sides of his face, holding him so tightly, as if she was afraid he would let go.
“Yes.” She pulled away panting, her lips swollen, his flushed. “Yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend, Arvin.”
They smiled as bright as the setting sun above them, and Arvin pulled her close as she buried her face in the warm crook of his neck. They stayed like that ‘till the sun went down and the stars came out of hiding, the cool summer breeze blowing around them. They both still felt it, then, the love they had only just began to realize was there. And they would continue to feel it for years to come.
Like when Arvin would get back from a job, sometimes with blood splattered on his crisp white shirts, his dirty work getting, well, dirty. She would slowly peel it from his body, taking care to make sure he wasn’t hurt. She would do her best to wash the crimson stains from the fabric, sighing if it was seeming to be of no use. Arvin would come up behind her where she was working at the sink, wrapping his strong arms around her middle and resting his head on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Arv,” she would start, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face, “damn thing won’t budge.” Arvin would just chuckle, reaching up a gentle hand, gentle only for her, to tuck the hair behind her ear, quietly speaking.
“Well I think it looks pretty good, darlin’. It’ll do just fine.” He would spin her around to face him, and pepper small kisses on her skin, smiling at her reaction. And if he was hurt, she would take care to use a warm washcloth, wiping the scarlet splatters from his creamy complexion. 
The juxtaposition of the shades was always bewildering for her, oddly beautiful in a way. She never said so, though, only muttering praises of how proud she was, how strong he is, things like that. And Arvin would watch her, honey colored eyes following her as she moved about to fix him right up. No pain would have any real effect on him, not when she was there to reassure him, make him whole again.
As Arvin moved up in their small town world, in the “family”, he remained just as kind, just as gentle. Nothing really changed, no, only the lines on his forehead deepening and the crows feet becoming darker when he smiled; And Y/n’s role, as well. She stopped cleaning him up, stopped trying to rid his shirts of bloody reminders of his living. Arvin seemed to no longer be “painting walls’, but rather making sure jobs were done, everyone was staying in their places.
And things led to another, and all of a sudden Y/n and Arvin were moving into a big house, bigger than Arvin had ever even been in before. Deals and arrangements were made, settlements too.
One regular Tuesday, Arvin came home from what Y/n could tell had been a long, long, day. He was exhausted, but had this unmistakable look of excitement and joy plastered to his face. He had come in bursting through the door, not even taking off his hat or overcoat before making his way over to Y/n and kissing her silly.
“Well hello to you, too, Arv.” She laughed, amusement and curiosity both equally swirling around in her brain, wondering what could possibly have inspired this behavior.
“Things are happening, sweetheart, good, good things.” He took her hands in his, briefly shaking them before planting a kiss to them and walking away, a big smile on his face. And truth be told, not that she would admit it, it scared the Hell outta her. She wasn’t quite sure as to why, but something was itching at her brain, warning her that whatever was brewing wasn't a good thing. But nevertheless, she maintained her grin, painted lips never faltering.
The next day, when the “good things” were supposed to be happening, Arvin was seriously wondering why on God’s green Earth he had expected this to be easy.
“Come again, son?”
Arvin swallowed, shifting on his feet. He mentally scolded himself for ending up in this position again, standing in front of the Pastor’s desk, all kinds of confused. But it had to be this way, it was for the best, he knew. The sun shone through the window above the desk in front of him, right into his eyes, nearly blinding him. The Pastor didn’t really care, though.
“I’m asking for your blessing to ask Y/n’s hand in marriage, sir.”
The older man slowly nodded in understanding, taking a long drag from the expensive cigar between his fat fingers, the gold ring on his pinky also shining brightly under the harsh sun’s light.
“I just thought that after our arrangement-”
“Arvin, I don’t regret making you an heir, I don’t.” He stated, blowing out a long stream of smoke. “Hell, I can feel something big and bad coming, boy, you understand? I know God’s will is holding out on us, on this family. But it’s running thin.”
The young man clenched his jaw, internally cringing on what that might mean to the family, for the family, what it meant for Y/n. He bit his tongue, feeling the iron seep onto his taste buds.
“And I know those damn Teagardins are plotting, they’re plotting for our downfall. Making you next in line is something they won’t see coming, and I trust it’ll stay that way. But I don’t quite understand
“Well I love your daughter, I love her so much that it hurts. And if worst comes to worst…” he stopped, his bottom lip wavering for a moment, trying to carefully dance around the different outcomes of this conversation. “I feel I’ll be better able to protect her if we’re married, if she’s truly mine.” That part might have been a lie. Y/n has never been his, never would be. She was her own person, outside Arvin, outside the family. It was what he loved about her above all else.
The Pastor was quiet for a moment contemplating his response, calculating it.
“Would you die for her?”
“Yes.” The answer came without thought, it was automatic for Arvin.
The Pastor smiled widely, lifting his arms.
“So, when’s the wedding, Arv?
Turns out, it was exactly a year, a month, and 6 days until Y/n and Arvin would tie the knot. Arvin had spent time, waiting to find the perfect moment to ask her the big question. He had decided on a night where the moon was bright and the sky was clear. They sat together in what they had donned “their” field, the greenery around them rustling in the wind. Though he was nervous, he had delivered a stunning speech that had taken poor Y/n’s heart by force. It ended up with both of them crying like babies and a shiny ring on Y/n’s finger.
The wedding itself had taken place on a beautiful summer’s day, and Y/n had worn a pretty white dress that had made Arvin almost faint when he saw her, standing there on her father’s arm. She was all decked out in the most expensive diamonds and pearls, courtesy of her father, making her shine like a crystal of sorts.
It was the best night of her life, Arv’s too. But the joy they had felt must have an inevitable end, as the worst night (Arvin’s too) was soon to follow.
It had been an ambush, the death of the Y/l/n family. The death toll had managed to wrack up every member immediate member of the esteemed mob family, including the Pastor, his wife, and their two sons. A bomb planted in the trunk of their Cadillac that had gone off, placed there by who knows. 
When Arvin had heard, his immediate reaction was to thank God that Y/n had decided to stay with him that day, to go lay in the fields just the two of them. Immediately after she had been told, she had fallen into Arvin, her entire body weight being put into his arms. Sobs wracked through her frame, her tears dampening Arvin’s yellow button up.
Once she had “come to”, Y/n had grown to be furious rather than sad. As when you look at the lineage of her family, look at the ranks of the mob and who’s to rise to power when the one in front of them dies, well Arvin was right after Y/n’s big brother, Jamie.
And Y/n had loved her big brother, she had loved him very much and would like to believe that Arvin, her sweet, sweet Arvin, would never do anything of that multitude just to satiate his hunger and appetite for power. The hunger for power she wasn’t even aware he possessed. But how in the Hell was she even supposed to be sure?
“I want to believe you, Arv, I do. But I can’t! It don’t make any damn sense, Arvin!”
“You really think that low of me, Y/n/n?”
Y/n had been shouting, trying to confront him for a crime he hadn’t committed. But Arvin was calm as he spoke, his eyes only watering and his voice only bordering on wavering. Y/n reached a trembling hand to her scalp, pulling lightly on her roots. The tears slipping down her face were hot and salty and she hated it so much.
“What else am I supposed to think?” She lifted an arm, sniffling before putting her other one on her waist, the blue of her dress, the same dress Arvin adored so much, just barely matching what was to become of her mood. She was started to regress, the red hot anger from before transforming to a stormy blue of unsure waters.
“My whole family is dead, and it just so happened that you asked me to stay with you the day they died! My whole family is dead!” She screamed, her voice a crescendo of sorts. “And everyone is clean, Arv, except you. You got the motive, you got the alibi, I’ll give you that much.” She paused, briefly wiping her nose and looking to the blank wall to the left of her father’s office. “It’s funny;” she dryly chuckled, and Arvin looked up.
“You went from doing my daddy’s dirty work to gettin’ some poor bastard to do your own. Ironic isn’t it?”  
Arvin stepped towards her, pain twisting his insides up to see his best girl afraid of him, cowering away from his touch.
“You still have me, Y/n. I’m your family.”
She looked to her feet and back to him, shaking her head.
“No, Arv. You’re not. And you will be sorry for what you did to him, to all of them. You will be.” She said, walking away with her heels clicking heavily on the wooden floors. Arvin stood still for a while, not quite sure where to go next. But it dawned on him as the stained glass shone down on his feet in the most poetic manner, that he was already there.
So he dragged his feet along with him, breaths ragged and short, his head slowly tilting up towards the glorious light. He only had to go a few feet, before he sat down in the old leather chair, the only emotions he felt being those of an imposter. He thought back to all the nervous conversations he’d had with the pastor while he was sitting in that chair, a trembling Arvin usually standing opposite, awaiting instruction.
He darted his eyes across the mahogany surface in front of him, looking at all the various things that he only could associate with Y/n’s father. His valued cigar box, the crystalline tray that rested next to it. (He swore he could still smell the fresh smoke, wafting from the little dish.) He opened it, the latch clinking before his hand reached in and his fingers clasped around one of the thick rolls of tobacco. Before he could light it, he felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, and dropped it back into the box, slamming the lid.
He laid back, resting his weary head. Arvin took a deep breath through his nose, exhaling through his mouth, before falling into a not so peaceful slumber.
He was only woken minutes later, Joseph, Y/n’s uncle, wanting to know if Arvin had seen her lately. He shook his head, muttering an annoyed “No”. Joseph got the idea relatively quickly, exiting the room. He heard the chapel’s doors close, taking that as his queue to leave once he saw the time. So he grabbed his hat and his coat, leaving the office and making his way through the dimly lit space. His attention was caught, though, by the cross by the front pews, so beautifully shining. Arvin put down his things, and walked over to the pew, sitting down on the uncomfortable hardwood. He bowed his head, putting his interlocked fingers utop the surface in front of him.
He hadn’t done this in awhile, this whole praying thing. It seemed naive in his way of life, with the things that happened around him, the people lost. But nonetheless, if ever, now was a good time to try.
“Heavenly Father, I, I, uh, I need to talk to you. To, uh, set the record straight.” His hands were sweaty, tears welling in his eyes.
“Y/n, she’s- well she’s the love of my life, God, and I don’t think she loves me anymore. Hell, she wants me dead. But I don’t blame her, I couldn’t ever. Not after...” he paused, his bottom lip shaking, “Not if she thinks I killed her family. But I didn’t, Father, I didn’t and I could never. But she don’t see that. I need her to see that.” He raised his voice, the bitter droplets rolling down his reddened cheeks, hitting his shoes.
“I can’t live without her, I won’t. So I guess I’m askin’ you a favor, Lord. Just… let her know I didn’t do it, that I would never hurt her.” His voice cracked, his words barely audible, not that whoever was listening cared.
“That I love her so much.”
Arvin muttered something of an “Amen”, and then just sat there for he wasn’t sure how long. His silence was interrupted by a mellow and raw voice, cutting through the silence like the sharpest dagger.
“It was the Teagardin family. I just found out.”
Arvin stood and turned so fast he dizzied himself, having to hold onto the back of the pew for stability. His bottom lip quivered, his flushed features gaining a confused look.
“Y/n/n? How long you been there?” He questioned, not bothering to wipe his eyes. She shifted from one foot to the other, fumbling with her hands.
“Long enough.”
There was a mutual understanding at her few words from the two of them, and an apology within them all the same. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nose runny and her overall appearance disheveled. Despite that, just the fact that she was there, to him, made her the most beautiful girl in the world. 
Arvin could tell she was holding herself back, her emotions, too, as she started to speak, barely able to get through a sentence as she rambled about how she shouldn’t have assumed things, and that it wasn’t right of her to accuse her beloved of something so dire. But none of it mattered to Arvin as he strode towards her, her words only ceasing when he finally wrapped his arms around her.
“I’m so sorry, Arv.” She sobbed, gripping onto him for dear life. That was all she said, repeating it over and over again with the exception of “I love you” also being reiterated. 
Her husband spoke over her hushed tone, saying “It’s alright, doll, I know. You were right to think that, it’s not your fault. It was never your fault.” They continued that way for some time until they both regained their bearings, Arvin wrapping an arm around her shoulders and walking down the front stairs of the chapel. 
“Let’s go home, sweet girl.” He had said, so they did. Arvin kissed the side of her head, regarding once more how he loved her, before starting the ride home, his hand on her thigh the whole time, not wanting to let her go for even a second.
His mind was plagued with thoughts of the past, and he remembered an old saying he had heard long ago. What was it? Ah, you know what they say.
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”
·。·。·。
how we feeling folks did we like? gimme feedback if u wanna! mwah love u, take care of urself
 xx hj
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Text
i'd rather spoil all my friends with my riches
Fandom: Kaizoku Sentai Gokaiger
Characters: Luka Millfy, Ahim de Famille, Don "Doc" Dogoier, Joe Gibken, Ikari Gai, Captain Marvelous
Song: "7 rings," Ariana Grande (playlist here)
Ahim comes to breakfast wearing amber drops dangling from her ears. There’s a pendant, too, glowing against her skin in an exact match to the honey that she’s drizzling onto her waffle. The other four at the table watch it gleam for a moment, mesmerized, before Gai gathers himself enough to say, “That’s a really pretty necklace, Ahim, you don’t normally wear yellow stones. It looks good on you.”
She smiles warmly at him. “Thank you, Gai. Luka gave the set to me as a gift, wasn’t that sweet of her?”
Marvelous blinks. “Luka never gives me jewelry. She hoards the stuff like an Arcturan Mega-Dragon.”
“Well, perhaps she just hasn’t found the right piece for you yet.” Still smiling, she reaches up and carefully adjusts the little hoop in her ear. “Give it time.”
“She gave me earrings.” Gai fidgets with one of his own hoops. “Nothing in her colors, though, that’s interesting.”
Midway through breakfast Luka emerges from Ahim’s cabin, yawning, and piles her plate high with waffles. The others shift a bit to make room, and she sits down next to Ahim and immediately leans over and kisses her behind the ear. “Those look nice on you.”
Ahim blushes and wiggles a bit, looking faintly pleased, which is the closest she generally gets to an open expression of vanity. “Thank you, Luka dear, I like them very much.”
---
One week later, Doc’s folding clothes in the laundry room and looks up in surprise to see Luka leaning in the doorway. “Hi, Luka, did you need something?”
She takes a step forward.
Startled, he takes a step back.
She takes another step forward.
He steps back and runs into the washing machine. It’s not a large room. “Can. Can I help you with something?”
She squints at him for a moment and then says, “Hold still,” and reaches for the collar of his shirt.
He braces himself for something, anything, whatever it is she’s planning to do, and then looks down in confusion as she unclips the chain from the collar of his shirt and tucks it into his breast pocket. Puzzled, he opens his mouth to speak, but she puts a finger on his lips and then reaches into her own jacket, pulling out…another chain, which she attaches to his shirt in the place of the one he usually wears. The pins at the ends are set with cabochons of tiger’s-eye, gleaming golden and brown. They look very nice against the print, actually. “I, uh. This is really nice, thank you. What’s the. Um. Is there an occasion?”
Luka shrugs. “I had it. Thought it’d look good on you.”
“Well, I—I really like it, thank you.”
She nods firmly. “I like it on you too.” Another moment of inspection, and then she leans forward to kiss him on the corner of his mouth before turning and leaving as abruptly as she came.
Blushing, Doc starts raising a hand to the spot she kissed but doesn’t quite get that far, distracted by the desire to rub his thumb over the smooth surface of one of the tiger’s-eyes. “What was that for…?”
---
Three days after that, Joe leans on the crow’s nest railing next to Luka and says, pleasantly, “Counting stars?”
“You know it.” She glances at him. “Here, gimme your hand.”
He blinks and holds out a hand. “Ok?”
“Hm.” She takes his hand in both of his and frowns down at it. “Damn, you’ve got big fingers.”
One eyebrow goes up. “So you’ve said before.”
Luka flushes red. “Shut up.” Another moment of inspection, and then she reaches into her back pocket, pulls out a ring, and slides it onto his pinky, where it fits very nicely.
Joe holds up his hand in the dimming light to inspect it—a wide gold band, with three glittering yellow diamonds set into it. His other eyebrow goes up. “This is beautiful, thank you. So, I saw Doc’s new lapel chain. Are you just feeling generous lately, or is this more of a possessiveness thing?”
She elbows him gently before settling back into her spot on the railing to look at the stars again. “It’s a me thing. Take that however you like.”
---
Four days later, “Hey, Gai, you want another ear piercing?”
Gai says, “Sure, please,” before he’s even looked up from the book he’s reading. “Wait. Why?”
Luka holds up a broad gold hoop with a gleaming topaz embedded in it. “I think this’d look good on you. Up here.” She reaches out and taps the upper edge of his right ear, gently. “Very piratical.”
“Oh, definitely. You don’t usually pick out gold pieces for me, though. Something you wanna talk about?”
She scowls. “Why do people keep asking me that?”
Gai shrugs. “Well, you’ve been…I mean, not touchy-feely or anything, but. You don’t normally do so many presents.”
More scowling. “Shut up, I can be affectionate when I want to be. Now come sit down over here so I can get this on you.”
He puts his book aside and comes over to the table, grinning. “I love you too, Luka.”
She sticks out her tongue at him. “Just sit down.”
---
The next day, after lunch, Marvelous says, “Hey, Luka, come spar with me.”
She blinks. “I was about to say the same thing to you, you better not be getting psychic powers or something.”
He winks, and she makes a face at him, and they head down to the practice room, stopping along the way to grab their swords.
The problem with sparring with Marvelous is, he’s bigger than Luka, and more than that, he’s heavier than she is. She’s quick, though, to make up for being smaller and lighter, and so for a few minutes it’s a decently even match, ranging all over the practice room floor. It’s tempting to transform and throw even more into it, and she can tell that he’s considering it as much as she is, but they both hold off. There’s something special about a real face-to-face fight.
Then, though, she decides to change it up. Marvelous charges her, and she tosses her sword off to the side and dodges, leaping onto his back and sending him crashing to the floor. As he swears and tries to flip them over, she grabs his right arm and twists it around behind his back, firmly but not with such force that she might do damage. Her knees on his back also hold his arm in place, and as his cursing gets even more sulfurous, she reaches into her jacket pocket, pulls out the thing she’s been hiding all day, and claps it around his wrist.
Marvelous goes dead still. “Did you handcuff me?”
“No, dumbass, take a look.” She lets go of him and gets off his back.
Grumbling, he rolls over and sits up, rubbing his shoulder. “That hurt, by the way, who’ve you been practicing wrestling with—ok, wow,did you have this made?”
The bangle is wide and heavy and gleams gold, sitting comfortably above his weighted wrist-band. As she watches, he holds his wrist up to inspect it more closely, running his fingers along the row of sapphires set into it—white with a silver impurity, pink, green, yellow, blue, and at the end a ruby the glowing, rich red of blood. When he looks up at her, shocked, she just shrugged. “I have a lot of loose stones lying around, I have to do something with them.”
He grins, very slowly. “Someday I’m going to get you to admit that you’re a romantic.”
She wrinkles her nose. “You wish.”
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le0watch · 3 years
Text
"the moon is beautiful tonight."
it was said so quietly, langa almost thinks he hadn't actually heard it. he glances to his side, where reki is sitting, his knees hugged to his chest. his cheeks are a deep red, spreading over and across his nose. the moon's light shines brightly, highlighting his face just enough for langa to see the curves of his cheeks, the freckles peppering his skin, the honey amber of his eyes. he's not looking at langa, but at the moon instead, its perfect sphere reflected against the soft candlelight of his gaze.
he's beautiful, stars surrounding the moon's reflection, making his eyes look like a bit of the night sky captured in his skull. langa could get lost staring into them, to forever drift through the stars and galaxies in his amber orbs. a few strands of his fiery hair frames his face, bringing ever more of langa's attention to his gorgeous eyes.
langa can't stop the breath from being caught in his chest. at the way reki blushes so adorably. by why is he blushing? he normally only does following a stream of compliments that langa had released, or due to the brushing of their hands. maybe if due to his gorgeous eyes catching langa's watching him, a softness at their edges.
but none of that had happened. they've sat here together, under the night's sky for about an hour now. it had started off with langa pointing out some of the constellations he knew, followed with reki asking for the stories behind each. and because of the interest langa had taken in them when he'd been younger, he happily obliged, retelling each of the stories he knew behind the shapes of the stars.
his favorite is o'rion. langa likes to imagine that instead of the ancient hero, carved into his place among the stars, that it was reki, instead, forever shining like the sun he is.
he hadn't even been looking at the moon. but now, after reki choked out that sentence, his gaze drifts to it, finding it to be large and full, bright against the black backdrop of the sleeping sky.
he has to agree that it is, in fact, beautiful.
but that still doesn't explain the feather light flush covering reki's cheeks and nose.
a cat with a pure coat of silver fur approaches them, tail held high, curved at its tip. its eyes are an unearthly green, watching the two boys curiously.
"it is," he replied, softly, not wanting to break the state of their quiet comfort. the still of the night they had melded into.
somehow, he thinks, he must have answered wrong. because of smiling back at him, reki frowns, his eyes dropping, chin burying itself in the fabric of his sweater's sleeves. langa frowns, too, guilt rising in the pit of his stomach over a mistake he doesn't understand.
"reki, i-"
"tell me more about the stars, langa," reki said, interrupting him. langa stops, mouth still half way open to form his apology, eyes blinking slowly, like a confused owl. reki looks at him, now, with a bright smile that langa knows is forced. what had he done? he'd messed up again, and he doesn't even know how. and now, reki isn't going to explain why, not now, and langa knows he shouldn't press.
so, he tells him more about the stars. he traces the constellations with his fingetip, and he doesn't comment on how he feels reki's gaze on the side of his face the rest of the time theyre there, laying in the grass, skateboards abandoned nearby.
the silver light cat trots away, tail lowered.
langa later tells joe about the confounding experience. the morning sun's fresh rays of light pours in through the windows, gleaming off of the slicked counter and tabletops. joe pauses in the cleaning of the glass he'd been focused on, eyes darting to langa's face.
"he said what to you, word by word?" joe asked, somehow serious of the smallest of a thing. what does it matter what reki had said? langa did something wrong, making those bright honey amber eyes dull to a brown pebble. he just needs to know what he did, so he knows how he can fix it.
"'the moon is beautiful tonight'," langa repeated, recalling each word easily. he remembers anything and everything reki ever says to him, filing each phrase and thing that leaves his lips in sections of his heart. especially the things that matter most- like the time he'd admitted to wanting to skate with langa forever, the day after that and the day after that!
joe's eyes widen, but his lips quirk upwards into a light smile. he chuckles softly, setting the cup he'd been cleaning aside, with the rest of the drinking cups.
"langa, that phrase holds meaning in our language," joe informs him, and langa's heart skips a beat. oh, no, what if it was something important, and langa had just brushed over it like it was no big deal? what if he'd offended reki, and there was no way of returning the honey he loved to those amber orbs he adored?
"what? what does it mean?" langa asks quickly, desperatly. he needs to make it up to reki as soon as possible, so joe needs to hurry up and tell him already!
another chuckle, and joe leans back against the wall across from the counter, large arms crossed over his even larger chest. "i told kaoru that very phrase, before we were together," he said, instead of answering langa straight on. langa's eyebrows furrow with his confusion and impatience, and he wants to demand that joe just tell him already. but joe is hokding a hand up, probably to calm him. "i told him this phrase on the night we got together. so that he would finally know. i couldn't tell him outright, so saying that instead helped me tremoundously. now, as you know, we're together, because he understood."
his eyes had gone soft as he spoke, remembering the night that he and cherry finally became official. it had been a pretty night, with them standing together a tad off from the rest of the ground, joe's jacket draped over cherry's shoulder. the moon hadn't been to remarkable that night- a small sliver, more dark than actual light. langa recalls just hearing the whisper of joe's words brushing through the air, against his ears.
"the moon is beautiful tonight," joe told cherry, his voice low like it had been a secret. langa's head tilted in confusion when cherry's eyes widened with surprise and disbelief, glazing over with something like admiration. reki beside him had gasped, hands coming up to cover his mouth at the scene, a light pink flushing his face. langa's confusion had only grown, furthered by the rolling of miya's eyes and shadow's blanching noise.
cherry had, surprisingly, pressed closer to, even if a tad begrudgingly. "i'm glad that you do," cherry had finally responded, and didn't sound like he was hissing through the cracks of his teeth anymore.
and then, just like that, they'd been official, and everyone cheered for them, leaving langa behind in his utter confusion.
now, it's dawning on him, and his mouth drops open, heart skipping another beat. he could feel his cheeks heating up, like he was outside in the summer's heat instead of inside in joe's a/c cooled restaurant. joe smiled at him as his eyes went back to his face, nodding a little, confirming langa's suspicions.
langa ran from the building as soon as he knows for sure, needing to find reki right then.
he doesn't find reki until later that day, as the sun sets and the moon is peeking over the horizon. reki is at the skatepark, alone, sitting on top of his board and idly scooting himself side to side. the last of the sun's light catches around him like a halo, making him the sole originator of all sunlight for a moment or two, before it fades, leaving him in shadow.
but langa can still reki's beautiful face, honey amber eyes looking at the cracks in the ground, tracing them almost like they are the constellations fallen to earth. he can't stop himself from smiling, at the freckled face, the lightly tanned skin, the fire red hair and amber eyes.
he makes his way to where he sits, and plops down on his own board beside him. reki jumps a little, not noticing his arrival until he's directly beside him, their bent knees brushing in the middle. the moon is slowly rising, a sliver of it sliced off. but it is still large, still bright and beautiful. like the boy he loves sitting beside him.
"hi, reki," he said in greeting, offering a small smile and wave.
reki flushes a little, already, waving back, shy. "hey, langa," he replied, and looks back up at the star dotted sky, capturing some of it in his eyes once more. if reki's eyes were the universe, langa wouldn't be surprised in the slightest. "wanna tell me about more of the constellations?"
langa hums, a light, song like note. he scoots ever closer to reki, the edges of their boards bumping, their thighs meeting. the flush on reki's face darkens, and his gaze flickers at their connected legs. "maybe in a minute," langa said, and brings their shoulders together. reki goes completely still, knees locking him in place. he leans closer, wetting his lips only a tad nervously. he's waited for so long to say this, and now he could communicate it in the way reki would prefer. he tilts his head towards the dark sky, towards the moon, now halfway high. "don't you think the moon is beautiful tonight?"
it must be the way he says it, because reki's honey amber eyes dart to his, and his flush deepens even further at how close their faces are. langa is now completely invading reki's space, their noses inches apart, their breaths mingling in the cool night air.
wide honey amber eyes stare into his own, searching, and he smiles warmly, nodding, a minute thing.
reki's lips part, his gaze drifting to langa's mouth. langa makes sure to lean in closer, slower now, however, to allow reki time to pull away. he doesn't. instead, he leans closer, their noses bumping, brushing against one another intimately.
"me too," reki whispered. his words are nearly stolen by the breeze, but langa catches them, bottles them into a small jar and stores it away to keep forever.
finally, their lips meet, warm and soft and chaste, with only the moon watching.
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mercurygray · 2 years
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last one, could i pls also request 🔥 + flush for Ruth and Joe?
Ruth is a redhead. This means she is very fair-skinned.
It also means she blushes *furiously*.
Now, there is not much that can make Ruth Shapiro, girl from the neighborhood, New Yorker, and paratrooper, blush easily.
But there is something very particular about lying facedown in bed, and having her boyfriend whisper in her ear while he strokes her back and tells her all the dirty sweet things he'd like do to her that will make her flush just so. And Joe loves that - particularly when he gets to kiss those blushes, too.
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whumpasaurus101 · 3 years
Text
Not Just a Pretty Face
Here's the second part to this ask!!!
master list / previous
also ty @happy-whumper and @milk-carton-whump for helping me to form words XD
CW: Brief talking of conditioned pets / cursing / mention of alcohol / mirror broken with head (mhmm, thats the only way i can think of phrasing that...) / if i missed anything just tell!!!!
Alicia fixed Jack's shirt collar, tucking the fold back down. As she took a second look she stepped closer, smoothing down the creases in his shirt and tie. She ruffled his hair with a smile, “Perfect.” Jack blushed at the compliment and dipped his head. Alicia’s hand ghosted over his cheek and gently pushed his chin up, “Hey, chin up, shoulders back. I need you to try and look tough for me baby, or else tonight wont go well, got it?” Jack licked his lips and gulped, “Y-yes ma’am.” Alicia tutted at the stutter and yanked on the leather collar, causing Jack to choke slightly.
She slowly put on her suit jacket and slipped on her high heel boots. She reapplied her dark red lipstick and smiled, “Let’s go.”
A taxi was in Alicia’s driveway, patiently waiting for them to get in. The man who drove it scared Jack. He was lean and muscular and had a tattoo of a teardrop on his left cheek. He gulped but Alicia shoved him into the back seat and slammed the door behind him.
Her high heels clicked as she walked up to the front door and got in. “Romeo, glad to see you, long time no see, eh?” Romeo chuckled, “Wish I could say the same. I mean really, a handler’s club?” Alicia smirked, looking out the window as the car drove away from the house, “I haven't been out in ages, Rodger’s been away for a while and I had to mind Jack and his little boyfriend.”
Romeo’s head tilted and he looked at Jack from the rear-view mirror, “Boyfriend?” Jack sunk in his seat and rested his head against the window, hiding his blush. “Jack, don't you want to talk about your little boy toy?” Alicia sneered. Jack shook his head, clenching his jaw.
Alicia chortled, “Fine, I will. You know Rodger’s mutt?” Romeo looked at Alicia, “Shit, I’ve missed a bit, haven't I? Rodger got a new pet? But it mustn't have been too long since his last-”
“No, it hasn't. He can't deal with loss, you know that.”
There was silence. Jack fiddled with his fingers as he focused on the vibrations the road sent to the car. He felt the window buzz against his temple and he slowly closed his eyes.
“Well your pet seems to be good, he’s still as quiet as ever.” Alicia chuckled, “Oh trust me, he’s loud when he wants to be! But I am grateful, you should see Rodger’s little mongrel, has a bad fucking attitude and a bold mouth.” Romeo chuckled, shaking his head, “I must say, I’m intrigued by him, maybe I should pay him a visit.”
Alicia cackled, fixing her hoop earrings, “Oh, now I would pay to see that, you’d have him broken in a week!” Romeo chuckled and smiled to himself, keeping his eyes glued on the road. Jack opened his eyes and looked out of the window, watching trees and bushes whizz by.
It was dark, the sky was a light grey, Jack flinched slightly as a droplet of rain hit the window. It slowly rolled down as Jack’s eyes followed it. Next came several others each making a *tink* sound as they each fell.
Romeo sighed and turned on the wipers. Alicia reapplied her eyeshadow and mascara in the windscreen mirror. She checked her watch and sighed, “Could you be driving any slower, for god’s sake.”
Romeo looked at her with one eyebrow raised, “Alright, I know you're stressed about going out since it's been a while, but lose the bitchiness, okay?” Jack gulped, how could he say such a thing to her, she must be livid!
To Jack’s surprise, Alicia laughed, “Alright, alright, sorry, is it that obvious?” Jack’s eyebrows furrowed, if it had been anyone else who had said that, they would've been dead in seconds.
“It's alright, I remember I used to get spooked before every club. Just walk in confidently, and make sure Jack does too. Sit at your own table, let people join you. Normally there’s live music so just focus on that until people come over.” Alicia nodded, taking a mental note. She then cleared her throat, hating how vulnerable she seemed in front of her pet.
“So, how are your pets doing?” Romeo chuckled, “Oh boy, they’re alright. We’re on about ten. Aiden’s trying to sell me another one but-” He blew the air out of his mouth, “-I don't think I can manage another one. Besides, they all have their own positions, the cooks, the cleaners, you know.”
Alicia nodded, “No, I get it. Aiden is just trying to get everyone to try and copy him with his ‘pet hotel’ shit.” “Hey, you can't say anything, you haven't tried it out, it’s actually quite useful.” “Oh, I don't need that, Jack does everything for me, isn't that right Jack?”
Jack felt his cheeks flush slightly, “Y-yes ma’am.”
“Jesus, it takes nothing for that boy to turn as red as a tomato,” Romeo commented. Alicia laughed and looked back at Jack, taking in how red his face had gotten, “He has always been like that, its quite entertaining.”
Romeo looked left then right before pulling out to a new road and he chuckled, “You know what would be funny?” Alicia looked up at him, a devilish smile painted on her lips. “A drinking game. Each time his face blushes even the slightest shade, we take a shot.”
Alicia let out a childish, giddy laugh, “Oh Romeo, I forgot how fun you are, that sounds perfect! Say, how far away do you live from this club?”
Romeo smiled, seeing where Alicia was going with this, “It's about a fifteen minute drive.” Alicia hummed, nodding her head, “What would you say to having two guests over tonight?”
Romeo beamed, “That would be great! Give me a call when you want to be collected, got it?” Alicia nodded, “Thank you again, and we’ll see after.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and left the car. Jack hadn't moved, he didn't dare to.
The rain had stopped by now, it had only been drizzling by then. Alicia opened the car door he had been leaning on and quickly caught him before he fell. “Jesus Christ, get your head out from the clouds baby, cmon!”
Jack scrambled to his feet and smoothed his clothes before Alicia gave out to him, “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, shh, its okay, now, lets go.”
She linked arms with him and dragged him to the door of the quartz building. There was two body guards whos frowns both turned to smiles when they saw her, “Alicia! Its been a while, welcome!” One of them beamed. “Why thank you Joe, its great to be back.”
The second one gave a bigger smile and opened the door to the club, “Have a good night ma’am.” It didn't bother Jack that they were speaking to only Alicia and not him. But, if maybe one of them looked at him it would've been nice.
“Jack, sweetie, whats the matter?” Jack looked to alicia who lightly squeezed his arm tighter. Jack gulped, “N-nothing, I’m sorry ma’am.” Alicia frowned, “Alright, but don't forget, you should be grateful for tonight that I have brought you out!”
Jack winced at the sharp tone, “Yes, of course ma’am, I’m sorry. Th-thank you for bringing me out today.” Alicia smiled, “Good boy, now, I need you to be on your best behaviour tonight, there will be a lot of eyes on us.” “Yes ma’am.”
She opened the second door of the corridor and jazz music, clinking of glasses, laughter and chatter filled the room. Scared, pleading eyes shot up to meet with Jack. He quickly cast his eyes downward to the floor and let Alicia guide him to a free table.
Romeo was right. Alicia and Jack had only been sitting at an empty table only for several other handlers to join them only minutes later. Jack knelt obediently by Alicia’s side. Alicia combed her long nails through his curls and softly rubbed behind his ear. Jack closed his eyes in content, taking in the soft warm touch.
The other handlers were talking about their own pets and what they do. Alicia smiled and nodded, occasionally looking down at Jack, making her smile even more at how happy he looked.
Jack half listened to the conversations, there was one called Sandra, another called Ethan and the last one named Lorcan. Lorcan also looked at Jack. By then Jack had his eyes opened, they were still glued to the floor. His head tilted towards Alicia as she used more of her nail.
Once Jack glanced up at Lorcan, the man chuckled, shaking his head. Jack clenched his jaw, what had he done wrong?
“Well, you seem to have a broken pet,” He sneered, Alicia chuckled, “He was a runaway. His previous owner was well-known to be the ‘strict’ kind.” Jack shuddered as his memories of Abraham came back to him, he could never go back there. Never.
“Well, is he useful at all?” Lorcan asked, raising an eyebrow. “Oh yes, he’s not just a pretty face. He’s great company, he can read, write, clean, cook, talk, be quiet, everything!” Jack felt his ears turn hot.
“Hmm, so he’s good around the house?”
“Mhmm.”
Lorcan nodded slowly. He reached for the drink and just as he brought it to his lips, he dropped it to the ground right in front of Jack who immediately flinched back, pressing himself against Alicia with a whimper.
“If he’s so good, make him clean this mess up.” Jack looked at Alicia who thought for a moment before looking at Jack, you heard him, clean it up.” Jack gulped and whined once he felt Alicia’s touch leave.
“M-ma’am, I don't- I don't have anything to clean it up with!” Lorcan smiled, “Do you mind if I take him for a moment, I know where we can get something to clean it up with.” Alicia’s eyebrows furrowed, “Alright, just dont take long.”
Lorcan faked a smile and roughly grabbed Jack by the hair and dragged him over to the bathrooms. Jack yelped and tried to pry the hands out of his hair but it was impossible, “Please, l-let go of me!!” Lorcan snickered, “So the bitch speaks!” Jack -ignoring the insult- let out a yell as his grip tightened.
He was thrown to the ground once they had entered the bathrooms. Jack felt a droplet of blood slowly drip down his forehead, slowly making its way down to his brow. “Get up.” Jack groaned and shook his head. Lorcan muttered something under his breath and yanked Jack up by the arm and smashed him up against the mirror, making Jack bang his head against the mirror.
He let out a cry and felt the glass shatter beneath his skull. He let out a scratch of pain which was soon muffled by Lorcan’s sweaty palm. “Shut the fuck up!” Jack continued to scream, desperate for help. Who was he kidding, he was in a handler’s club, no one was going to save him.
Lorcan brought him forward only to slam his head back against the cracked mirror once more. Jack felt his vision start to slip, his head felt numb and heavy. The pain was excruciating but it was the only thing he could focus on at the moment.
Alicia heard the screams. At first, she thought it was just some other pet but as a second wave of muffled screams came, she recognized them. Jack! She leaped from her seat and ran to the bathroom door. She kicked it open and punched Lorcan straight in the face. Lorcan stumbled back, clutching his face. “Don't touch him! I thought you were going to get something to dry up the mess!”
She softly put her arm around Jack’s shoulders and guided him behind her. “Oh come on,” Lorcan scoffed, “Why do you think we came in here?” Jack watched the vein in Alicia’s neck pop, she was livid. It made Jack feel good though, she cared about him!
“I swear to god, if you touch my boy ever again without my permission I will fucking kill you!” Lorcan just chuckled, shaking his head, “I think you better go.” Alicia clenched her jaw, “Oh, I’ll go when I want to go.” She took out her phone and held it to her ear.
Lorcan rolled his eyes and folded his arms, “And who are you ringing?”
“Romeo, Romeo Zalis.”
Lorcan immediately paled, “Y-you're bluffing.” Alicia raised her eyebrow as a challenge. The ringing stopped, “Alicia, are you okay?” Lorcan recognized the thick Brooklyn accent and gulped, “I uh, need to go.” Alicia smirked and her eyes followed him as he left.
“Yes, although not great people here, think you can collect us early?” Romeo chuckled, “Of course, I’m in a cafe nearby, I shouldn't be too long.”
“Perfect, thank you. Also, I could really do with that drinking game right now.”
Taglist: @likeit-or-whumpit @milk-carton-whump @yesthisiswhump @as-a-matter-of-whump @appy-polly-loggies @happy-whumper @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @myst-in-the-mirror
if you wanna be added or removed just say!! <3
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“I haven’t seen (her/him/them) smile like that in ages.”
The first time Reki hears this specific phrase is at one of Miya’s legal skate matches. He and Langa had to sneak out of school to go see it, but they’d promised Miya and, honestly, school is boring anyway. It had felt like a spy movie trying to sneak off of school grounds. One short train ride later finds them in the stands of an indoor arena, waiting patiently for Miya’s race to begin, chatting idly. 
“So these jumps in snowboarding, are they-” 
“See, I told you we were late!” A familiar voice cuts Reki off, and he turns his head in the direction he’d heard it, gasping when he sees two of the last people he’d expected to see at a middle school skateboard race. 
“We aren’t late, look at the board dimwit! Chinen is next,” 
“We should’ve been here for the first race, it’s only polite! Miya probably thinks we didn’t come now.” 
“Well whose fault is it that the server you scheduled to come in for the time you’d be gone didn’t show?” 
“Not mine!” 
“Oh rea-” 
“Uh, Joe...Cherry...people’re looking.” 
Joe and Cherry seem to finally remember they’re in public at Reki’s quiet whisper, and they pause their search for an open seat in the bleachers. “Ah. Reki. Langa.” 
“What a coincidence.” Joe says, his cheeks dusted a light pink. He slips into the spot next to Reki. “Might as well sit here, eh, Kaoru?” 
Cherry grumbles, sitting delicately next to Joe, arms crossed over his chest. “I suppose. Aren’t you boys supposed to be in school right now?” 
“Half day,” Langa and Reki reply immediately, like they’d rehearsed. They both know that Joe and Cherry, of all people, know better; they also know neither of them could care less.  
“Sure, sure. Hey look- Miya’s match is starting.” They turn to look at the arena once more when Joe points, and he’s right; Miya is lining up at the start with two other boys his age. The timer counts down and the race begins. 
Watching Miya skate outside of S is interesting. Maybe it’s because there’s no sudden turns or extreme jumps, but he just seems so...bored. He easily overtakes the two boys and laps them once before he slows down, seemingly to allow the other boys to catch up so the race doesn’t end too quickly. Reki is amazed by some of the tricks he’s able to pull off, but he’s always impressed by Miya’s ability. By time the final lap comes around, Miya looks resigned to once again being the clear winner, and he looks resolutely to the stands only to catch sight of the strange quartet that is his friend group. 
A bright smile slips onto Miya’s face, and he looks like he forgets he’s skating a minute because one of the other boys passes him, and that finally snaps him out of it. He speeds up and is just barely able to pass the other boy before he meets the finish line. The arena is full of cheers, but Reki and Langa holler loud enough they hear their voices echoing even as the cheers die down. The next race is beginning, but the race they came to see is over and so they hop up and make their way down to the hallway just outside the main part of the arena to wait for Miya. As they wait, they see an older looking couple waiting by the doors as well. Reki doesn’t mean to evesdrop, really, but he can’t really help it- they're not even two meters away. 
“I’m glad we made it just in time. I feel horrible we have to leave so quickly after the race, though.” 
“Oh, he understands, dear. At least we’re always here for what counts.” 
“I wonder if he looks for us in the stands, before each match. Lord knows he doesn’t have the time to look while he’s skating. What if he doesn’t even know we’re here until he comes out?” 
“You worry too much. Didn’t you see him earlier? I don’t think I’ve seen our Miya smile like that in ages! He definitely saw us.” 
Those are Miya’s parents? 
Just then, Miya comes out and immediately locks eyes with Reki. He grins, running up to the group, and is immediately met with pats on the back from Reki and a noogie from Joe, Cherry and Langa choosing to more politely congratulate him for his win. Reki watches Miya’s parents as their faces morph into shock, and he feels bad kind of. Miya’s father’s phone rings before they can call Miya’s name, and they’re rushing down the hall before Reki can tell Miya they’re waiting for him. 
-
The second time Reki hears it, he’s at Langa’s place. They’d gone back to Langa’s after school because it was quieter, and they needed to actually do homework because they were both kind of sucking in Japanese lit; they blame it on skipping class to see Miya’s match, even though they were both doing bad before.
Sure, going to S later was also a benefit of hangingout after school, but it was mostly studying. 
Mostly. 
Langa’s mother, at some point, had come home from work and started on dinner but she was so quiet that neither of them had heard her over the low music they were playing while they did (or, more realistically, attempted) their work. She was so quiet, in fact, that she genuinely scares Reki when she knocks and enters Langa’s bedroom- he isn’t able to hide the shriek that slips from his mouth, nor can he hide the fact that he’s so scared he falls straight off of Langa’s bed and onto the floor. There’s a moment of shocked silence before Langa bursts out laughing, falling onto his back on the bed as he hides his face behind his textbook. Reki’s cheeks burn, and he takes the first thing he can find from Langa’s floor, an abandoned house slipper, and throws it at his friend. He misses and the slipper falls pathetically between the mattress and the wall. 
“Hey! It’s not funny!” Reki whines. “Mrs. Hasegawa, I’m sorry, but you scared the crap outta me! We didn’t hear you come in!” 
Mrs. Hasegawa isn’t laughing at him, but she does have a smile on her face as she replies, “Sorry Reki-kun! I’m glad you two weren’t doing anything I didn’t want to see, if you didn’t hear me then. I just wanted to let you boys know dinner’s ready. I assume you’re staying?” 
Reki decidedly ignores the flush that climbs up his neck and ears at the suggestive comment. “Y- Yes please, Mrs. Hasegawa. Thank you.” 
“Just come out whenever you’re ready, boys.” Mrs. Hasegawa smiles once more as she ducks out of Langa’s bedroom, and Reki turns to Langa who’s calmed down slightly, but still allows chuckles to shake his shoulders. 
“You’re the worst.” 
“I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect that reaction. You’re really easy to scare, aren’t you?” Langa asks, still laughing. Reki rolls his eyes. 
“Whatever. I’m hungry, are we gonna eat or not?” 
“I’m almost done with this section, and I want to write what I have before I forget. You can go sit with my mom, I’ll be out in five minutes tops.” 
“As long as I’m allowed to start eating without you, otherwise I’ll just sit and wait.” 
“Go and eat while it’s warm, but I can’t tell you it’ll be good. Dad was always the cook.” Langa says, not looking up from his notebook, and Reki nods as he climbs off the floor. 
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He calls over his shoulder, making his way to the door. It feels nice that Langa is slowly relaxing around him enough to talk about his dad, even if it’s just in offhanded comments like that. He’s never lost someone, himself, but he’s sure it’s hard to do. 
Mrs. Hasegawa is setting up three plates at the small kitchen table when Reki enters the main part of the apartment, and she smiles at him. 
“I know you two usually eat in Langa’s room when you’re over, but this is a little messy so I’d rather you eat in the kitchen. Sorry the table’s so small...” 
“Oh, it’s no problem, I don’t mind! I usually eat at the table with my family, so it’s not too different to me, really.” Reki rubs at the back of his neck, smiling shyly at Langa’s mother. They haven’t really interacted much, and he’s always felt kinda awkward meeting friends’ parents. But it’s alright. Langa’s mom is cool. She lets her kid sneak out well past midnight and doesn’t ask about it, and always sends Langa to school with cool snacks in his bag. “So, uh-  what’s for dinner, Mrs. Hasegawa?” 
“Nanako’s fine,” She says, smiling, and Reki returns it. “It’s probably underwhelming, Langa still prefers american food over anything, so it’s just alfredo. It’s kinda hard to find here, but I should’ve figured that, haha!” 
“Oh, I had that at Jo- at a friend’s place once! Langa said we could start eating, by the way, he’s just finishing a section on our homework.” 
“Hopefully not copying off of you,” Nanako says, and Reki can’t tell if she’s joking or not. She laughs, and Reki laughs along as they sit down, her on one of the wooden chairs and Reki on the fold-out chair Nanako pulled out for him. She sighs as she scoops some of the pasta on the three plates evenly, handing Reki a fork. “I never did say thank you for becoming friends with him. So, thank you, Reki.” 
Reki blushes and he sputters, looking at her. “Wh- What?” 
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Langa happy. Since Oliver, he’s been...well, he hasn’t been himself. There were a few months where I wasn’t, either, before I realized I needed to take care of the both of us." Nanako says, her eyes sad as she looks at the pictureof Oliver they keep near the table. She turns back toReki. "And what happened, just now, I- Reki, I haven’t seen Langa smile like that in ages. Probably even before his dad died. So- thank you. You’re so important to him, and I thank the heavens every day for the change you brought to his life.” 
And then there’s tears in Nanako’s eyes, and Reki can’t breathe, and he searches for something to say but he can’t come up with anything, and he’s about to just up and hug her when a hand falls on Reki’s shoulder. 
“Did you make my mom cry for scaring you, Reki?” 
“Sh- Shut up, bro, I did not!” 
-
The third, and most unexpected, time Reki hears that specific phrase is actually at S. or, contextually, in Joe’s restaurant after S. The high of his near-win against Adam is beginning to wear off, and so while he waits for Langa to come back from dropping Miya off at home with the dope sketch bike he allows himself to lay his head on the table and close his eyes. His back and upper arms where he’d been dragged against the cliff are beginning to ache, and he’s sure he’s all scraped up, and he thanks the gods that the adrenaline at least carried him out of Crazy Rock and through a very carb-heavy late night snack. 
Joe is a bit tipsy, stumbling around as he works to clean up the mess they’d made; he’d been making conversation with Cherry through the open door of the kitchen, but Cherry’s responses had slowly begun to slow and slur until they just finally stopped, the pain killers he’s on knocking him out, leaving Reki and Cherry in similar positions next to one another at the table. Reki feels at peace with the gentle sound of Joe washing dishes and occasionally cursing when he drops one too hard in the sink. So at peace that he actually does drift off, until he feels a hand petting his head gently, and Langa’s voice returns to his ears. 
“..t home okay?” 
“Yeah. I stayed and made sure he made it through his window alright.” 
“Ah, I remember when Kaoru and I had to sneak out,” Joe sighs fondly. Reki keeps his eyes closed, suddenly exhausted. It doesn’t seem like they’re leaving just yet; Langa will shake him awake when it’s time. “It’s been a while since we’ve had to do that, though. Sometimes I wish we could go back to those days.” 
“Do you?” Reki can practically hear the way Langa cocks his head as he asks his question. 
“I mean, I wouldn’t want to be seventeen or making the same mistakes we did back then, but I do kind of miss the excitement that comes with sneaking out. Trying not to wake the parents, hiding the scrapes and bruises we got the night before.” 
“Yeah, I’m not sure how Reki manages to lie to his mom about half of the injuries he gets,” Langa says, huffing out a laugh. Reki hides his face in his arm, smiling. It’s a bitch lying his way out of things sometimes. “Luckily most of his injuries from tonight are under his shirt, but still...” 
Joe whistles. “Yeah, that looked like it’s gonna hurt later. You’ll make sure he cleans everything up when you get him home, and maybe do a concussion check before you let him go to sleep.” 
“Of course.” 
“Good, good...” Joe says, and then there’s a few seconds of silence before he lets out a sigh. “...God, that was a great fuckin’ race, though.” 
Langa chuckles. “Yeah.” 
“The kid scared me a bit, but that call with the wheels was a good one. Never in my years skating at S would I have thought to check the weather before a beef.” 
“Reki’s so smart. He knows so much about skating, and whenever I ask he somehow finds a new thing to tell me about. He’s amazing.” 
Reki fights the urge to groan, his face wrinkling against his sleeve. He wants to deny it, to whine and push Langa’s hand away in faux annoyance, but he just continues to pretend to sleep. 
“Reki’s a good kid. And he managed to humiliate Adam tonight, on top of almost winning against him, so I think that’s a win in itself.” Joe says, only sounding a little jealous that it wasn’t him that got to embarrass his childhood friend. “God, that was hilarious.” 
“It was.” There’s a smile in Langa’s voice, too. Reki smiles. He’d spent so long worrying that Langa would prefer Adam over him for nothing. 
“He fell off his board- ha, the asshole was covered in mud! Did you see him?” Reki peers his eyes open and sees Joe, his face flushed from alcohol, his hair pushed back with a headband, grinning up at the ceiling. “Ka- Kaoru, you should’ve seen him- I haven’t- I haven’t...I haven’t seen him smile like that in ages. Adam fucked him up, when we were younger, y’know...” 
Joe trails off, before he looks down and sees Reki’s now open eyes. He smiles. 
“Hey, speedster. How ya doin’?” 
Reki lifts his head and yawns, Langa’s hand falling from his hair. “’m fine, thanks Joe. Talkin’ about the race?” 
“Yeah. You did great out there, kid. Now you two should get home and rest; I’m gonna finish cleaning up and do the same. Get Kaoru back to his place.” 
Reki, still half-asleep, nods and allows Langa to herd him out the door. There’s a deep ache in his back and arms, a headache throbbing in his temples, but he can’t find it in himself to care. He settles in behind Langa and leans his heavy head against his friend’s shoulder. 
"Hey Langa?"
"Hm?"
"...thanks for sticking around. I've got some cool friends."
There's a pause as Langa turns to look over at his shoulder at Reki. There's a crooked smile on his face and his eyebrows are raised. "I'm glad to have you as a friend too Reki. What brought that on?"
"Nothing. Just wanted to tell ya."
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heartbreakgrill · 4 years
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Best Friends; Matthew Gray Gubler
a/n: THE AMOUNT OF SERATONIN THIS GAVE ME WAS INSANE IM CRYING OMG
description: you’re a makeup artist and mgg is just...outgoing.
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K BUT IMAGINE BROS
You’re just a regular ol’ makeup artist (and in this fantasy world, makeup artists are TRAINED TO DO MAKEUP ON POC BECAUSE THEY ALREADY SHOULD BE). It’s season 13 of Criminal Minds and this is your first time working on set because the show you’d been spending the majority of your career on just ended.
You had met the cast and crew at the start up party a few weeks ago, but this was the day. The pressure was on. (Not really, it’s just makeup lol). Anyway, so you’d already set up in the makeup trailer alongside the other artist. Today, scenes were going to be filmed just in the Bureau, so no gore. You doubled checked your list just before 5 am, ready to cross off each actor and actress you were assigned.
“You nervous?” You heard the other stylist, Henry, ask you.
You turned to him, setting down your clipboard. You leaned against the counter and crossed your arms over your sweatshirt clad shirt. You were dressed down because it was so early- a Disney sweatshirt, jeans, slip on Vans, and your glasses instead of your contacts.
“Yeah, a little bit,” you chuckled.
Henry grinned at you, “Don’t be, hun. They’re all really great people.”
“I know, it’s just- I just feel awkward at first, grabbing people’s faces. I know I’m trained for it, but it takes a bit to settle into with new people,” you explained yourself, wiping your sweaty palms off on your jeans.
Henry opened his mouth, but a series of knocks resounded off of the door. You both turned towards it before Henry said, “It’s time.”
You giggled at his dramatic spectacular, turning to wash your hands as Henry let in the first cast members. Aisha and Joe stepped into the trailer. They greeted you with open arms, wide smiles, goofy jokes and polite goodbyes. You felt giddy, high, almost, when they walked out the door.
“So?” Henry asked as you both began to disinfect your areas.
“I feel so much better,” you grinned, folding a towel in half.
The rest of the cast flew past, already making great companionship with you. Henry, too, continued to get to know you between eyeshadow brushes and hairspray. Finally, the last person knocked on the door. It was nearing 6:30 AM, and you were somewhat tired. You yawned into your palm, sighing gently as Matthew Gray Gubler walked in.
“Hello, lady and germ!” He bounded to his chair, the biggest grin on his expression, a coffee cup in hand, and the other shoved into his character pants.
You jumped somewhat in surprised and he laughed at you. “You’re new.”
“Yeah, hi, we met at the party, Y/N,” you reached out your non-yawn hand and shook the one he pulled from his pocket.
“Ah, yes, I remember well. You were wearing very pretty eyeshadow. Green, right? It reminded me of Elpheba, but it definitely brought out the flecks in your eyes,” he rambled on, unashamedly and confidently.
Additionally, he barely made eye contact, it was more here and there as he busied himself with sitting down and crossing his legs. When he was settled, he met your eyes firmly and looked you up and down.
“Except now your wearing glasses.”
Henry laughed at your deadpan expression. Matthew chuckled lightly, too. Henry spoke, “She’s new, remember? Very talkative, but new. And tired, I guess.”
You nodded slightly, “Yes to both. Overwhelmed a little. I like the effort, but I’m not used to your energy. Give me ten minutes, and I promise I’ll get distracted from doing your makeup because I’ll be exchanging sarcastic remarks.”
“Only my character is a profiler, but I can see it,” Matthew spoke and took a sip of his coffee. He then reached to set it down on the makeup counter before hesitating. “Do you have a coaster?”
“Wait, yes, I do! I made sure to bring some just in case. At my old job, we constantly had people leaving rings of coffee on the counter.” You rushed over to your tote bag, which was set on the couch. You rummaged through it as Henry spoke to Matthew, messing about with his hair.
You found the coasters your sister had hand-painted, which ranged from pumpkin to dinosaur designs. You held them out in front of Matthew, who pulled his head from Henry’s hands to look at them.
“Oh, my Gosh! Pumpkins! Defintiley pumpkins!” He pointed excitedly at the coaster in your right hand.
You giggled and set the coaster onto the counter. Matthew thanked you as you politely took his cup and placed it on top of the design.
“I take it you’re a fan of Halloween?” You spoke as you set the others down beside your makeup supplies.
You sat down in the seat beside Matthews, awaiting him as he got his hair done.
He hummed in response, “It’s my favorite holiday.”
“My birthday is two days prior,” you bragged lightly.
Matthew gasped, turning his head to you. “No way! Oh, we are so totally throwing the best Halloween slash birthday party bash this year, then.”
You flushed at his excitement. “You barely know me.” You laughed somewhat.
Matthew shrugged as Henry frustratedly pulled his head back forward. “Stop moving!”
“We’ll be best friends by then, I guarantee it,” he stated.
“Really? Well, shouldn’t best friends know each other’s favorite colors. Favorite foods, movies...”
“Purple, everything except for plain bread, Hocus Pocus...or-“
“No! No ‘ors.’ Final answers only,” you adjusted your glasses and leaned forward.
He looked at you from the corner of his eye and smiled like he had been played. “Hm. Okay. Hocus Pocus it is then.”
“Of course it’s a Halloween movie,” you giggled.
Matthew grinned at that. “Let’s year yours, then, bestie.”
“Okay...” you sighed, tapping your chin, “pink is my favorite color. I love sushie and every other food, but specifically Chinese food is my favorite. And...I can watch Edward Scissorhands like it’s nobody business.”
“Ugh! A classic! I love that film!” Matthew exclaimed.
You nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! I’ve loved it since i was literally a child. My mom says it’s creepy, but I disagree. It’s beautiful. The themes and symbolism are beautiful. Ugh, plus that ice sculpture scene? Unbeatable. Winona Ryder does such a wonderful job portraying innocence which turns into wicked obsession... and Johnny Depp is just gorgeous...”
You trailed off as you realized you were rambling and Matthew was staring at you with sparkling eyes, a slack jaw, and the lightest imprint of his dimples.
“Sorry,” you scratched your leg, practically falling in on yourself.
Matthew scrunched his nose as Henry sighed. “All done. Your turn, chica.”
You stood from your chair and brushed your hair behind your ears. Matthew took your spot, wriggling in it. “Thanks for making it so warm.”
You smiled as you washed your hands. “You welcome.”
Henry touched your shoulder to gain your attention. “I’m going to go get coffee. Want some?”
“Uh, tea, please. Green, with two sweet n low packets,” you listed off.
He nodded and turned to leave. “Thanks so much!” You shouted as he left.
Matthew watched you through the mirror as you began plucking through your materials. You got to work, feeling all flustered now that you were up in his business.
When your hands moved to his face, he hummed. You furrowed your brows and pulled back somewhat.
“Sorry. Your hands are pleasantly warm. I knew that they would be because you’re just very bubbly, but it was still surprisingly wonderful,” he folded his hands in his lap.
“I like the way you talk,” you blurred out. You pursed your lips and looked away from his eyes, continuing to work on his foundation.
“I like the way you blush at everything,” Matthew echoed.
You blushed again. “Sorry. I’m just-“
“Not very outgoing. I can tell.”
“I thought you weren’t a profiler?”
“I’m not. But I’m super duper outgoing, so I can tell when others aren’t. You’re bubbly, but it takes someone who shares your personality to get it out of you,” he rattled off as if he were an expert.
“You seem to know me very well now,” you laughed gently.
“Guess were best friends already, then.”
You leaned back, propping your hands on your hips. “I think we’re, like, soulmates.”
Matthew quirked a brow, “I guess so? But why do you think?”
“Look at your sweatshirt,” you tugged on your own.
His eyes flickered from yours to his. His eyes widened and his jaw went wide. “Oh, my gosh! No way! We have to document this moment on camera.”
“Really?” You giggled as he stood, towering over you.
“Yes! Henry, come quicker!”
The door had swung open when Matthew stood, and Henry ran up the steps. “What’s wrong?”
“You have to take our picture,” Matthew exclaimed, swinging his arm around your shoulders and holding you flush against his side.
Henry looked you up and down and finally noticed your sweatshirts. “Oh, my God, you’re, like, totally mean to be. Let me get my phone.”
After a photo session consisting of many different poses (silly faces, Matthew squishing your cheeks, tugging you onto his back, nearly falling over as he swung his leg into your arms) you finally got him sat back down in his chair.
“Let’s tackle these eye bags.”
TAG LIST: @mantlereid @boxofteenageideas @dinosaursandsocks @ashhdaniellee95 @stephaniemelville-blog @zhangyixingxing1
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tricksters-captain · 3 years
Text
Charles Blackwood (WHALITC) imagines - Falling Star
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AN: Sorry it took a while to get to you! I had to sit down and watch ‘We have always lived in the castle’ as I hadn’t seen it yet!
Requested by @cherryblossomskye​ - Charles Blackwood and ‘Falling Star’ by The Vogues 
(Want to request your own character and song inspired imagine? Send me an ask!)
Summary: Charles Blackwood is new to town and you don’t get very many fresh faces...
Pairing(s): Charles Blackwood x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1,587
Warnings: Young/Inexperienced reader, Some light smut... nothing too naughty, this character is kind of an asshole so
The Blackwood mansion sat on its hill and watched over the town with its never blinking eyes. The town called it ‘The Castle’ as had the family that once lived there. 
The horror story of the Blackwood house still whistled across the state even long after they closed the case. But then again, a massacre doesn’t wash away so easy. 
Now only the two young Blackwood girls and their poor paralysed uncle lived in the castle and they very rarely left it. 
Every Tuesday was the time of the week that the youngest made her trip into town for groceries and other such needs. You worked in the café which was owned by Stella and the youngest Blackwood would always visit on her Tuesday trips. 
You had heard all the rumours and gossip the town could come up with to do with those girls but all you saw was two girls who struggled to socialise after the terrible murder of their family. 
The town had despised their father when he was alive and so you assumed the girls had despised him also. He must've been some brute for his eldest to poison him. Or that was the speculation at least. 
“Morning Mary Katherine.” You smiled politely as the tall awkward girl sat herself down in front of you. 
“Black Coffee.” She ordered her usual to which you poured her a cup. 
You had often thought the girl looked like a deer caught in headlights. Her eyes wide, her mouth straight, frowning just a little in the corners. She always had her hair in pigtails even now at the age of 18. 
She could’ve been a beauty like her older sister if she didn’t dress like she was still that 12 year old girl that lost her family. 
You tried to be kind when you could, quietly scold the townsfolk that chided her when she was drinking her coffee (you knew she didn’t appreciate you making a big thing out of those who bullied her). 
Stella was the same as you. She felt for the girls but she didn’t actively defend them like you did.
But on one Tuesday, the youngest Blackwood didn’t come for her usual cup of coffee. You hadn’t even seen her pass the window like she usually would on her way to the grocers. 
Instead there was a swanky red car that pulled up outside. 
You had heard whispers from a couple of teen girls about some handsome stranger in a red car Thursday last week but you hadn't seen anything yourself. 
You watched a well dressed man step out of his car and walk past the window, down to the grocers and then back up to the door a little while later. 
He opened the door to the café and happened to sit where Mary Katherine usually sat. 
You couldn’t deny the somersault your stomach had done when the man walked in. He was the most handsome man you had ever seen step into your little town before. 
“(Y/n)!” Stella called out your name and rushed towards you with a rag. 
The coffee you had been pouring for an old Joe had spilled over the counter at the sight of the stranger. 
“Oh! I’m sorry!” You felt your cheeks flush red as you wiped up the spilt coffee. 
The mystery man seemed to smirk to himself as you flushed over the counter. 
“I’m sorry, sir, I'll be right with you.” You apologised as you dumped the damp cloth in the sink.
“No rush, a pretty thing like you should be able to take her time.” The man smiled at you and you felt your mouth go dry at the compliment.
You smiled back before taking out your notepad and pencil. 
“What can I get for ya?” You asked, trying not to look at the man in fear you may forget how to speak if you did. 
“Some coffee and eggs will do nicely.” The man folded his hands together on top of the counter and your eyes couldn't help but watch them.
“Coffee and eggs for Mr..?” You tried your luck in finding out his name. 
“Call me Charles.” He introduced himself with another charming smile.
“Charles.” His name glided on your tongue, “I’m (Y/n), holla if you need me.”
You walked off to the kitchen and winced at your choice of words. 
‘Holla if you need me?’ You thought, cringing internally. 
You returned to the handsome stranger with a fresh coffee pot. 
“I must ask what is a lovely girl like yourself doing in a town like this one?” Charles asked you as he sipped on his coffee.
“I don’t come from much. This is home for me and I can’t really go anywhere else without an automobile or money.” You explained, adjusting your apron subconsciously. 
“I believe someone as beautiful as you should be able to go wherever you want.” Charles proclaimed. 
You blushed at his flattery. 
“Can I take you out sometime?” Charles asked, leaning forward on the. countertop. 
“My break is coming up. I could show you around town?” You offered, glancing over at the clock. 
“Sounds perfect to me.” Charles beamed you another toothy grin which made your heart flutter. 
Time went by in a flash and soon you were walking through town with the man. 
“So what brings you to our small corner of the world?” You asked, curious to why the man was visiting. 
“That house up there on the hill.” Charles nodded towards the Blackwood mansion. 
“You’re a Blackwood?” You felt a shiver roll down your spine at the sight of the looming building. 
“Indeed I am. I’m here to visit the girls and my uncle.” Charles informed you. 
“I wasn’t aware there were other Blackwoods left.” The words came out before you could stop them. “I-I apologise I didn’t mean to be so bold.” 
“It’s alright.” Charles stopped in his step and turned towards you. “You were only being honest.”
You looked up at the man. There was something in his eye. Something dark. Something malicious. But it only drew you in closer. 
“The girls are very lucky to have you visit. I fear they are rotting up there in their castle.” You did feel bad for the girls. 
“Well, I admit I like helping people.” Charles took your hand which made you look around and realise that you had walked Charles into a pretty secluded part of the town. 
There was nothing around but the back of the town hall and a field that lead into the forest linked to the Blackwood land. 
Charles took a step towards you. 
You let him step again and again, stepping backwards yourself until your back hit the cold brick of the town hall. 
“I could help you.” Charles voice was low as he spoke. 
His eyes were darker then before as they bored into your own. His tongue wetted his bottom lip as his breath drew close enough to tickle your cheeks. 
“Charles...” You could only manage to whisper his name. 
“I could take you anywhere you wanted. I could take you away from this town once I get what I came for from my cousins.” Charles’ body heat was radiating onto you and it made it hard to focus on what he was saying. 
“I made a wish the other night that I would escape this town.” You found yourself confessing the events of only a couple nights ago. 
“Then I think you should let me help you.” Charles lifted his hand and brushed his finger across your cheek and behind your ear. His touch was like fire. 
You let your eyes fall to his lips then back up to his eyes before you finally nodded. 
Charles didn’t waste a second. 
His lips found yours with a hunger. 
You gasped as he kissed you. You hadn’t kiss a boy before and his lips sent electricity all across your body.
Your hands found the back of his neck as you kissed him back. 
Charles' hand cupped your breast, squeezing hard as he kissed you. You had never been touched this way; it made you ache with need. 
Charles reached down and lifted your skirt up, his hand grabbing your thigh. Your skin was hot to touch which only made his member throb in his pants. 
Charles’ hand made its way up your leg but the minute he cupped your core, you gasped in shock, breaking the kiss.
“We can’t! Not here!” Your fingers shot up to your swollen lips whilst your other hand pushed your skirt down. “We could be seen!” 
“No one is going to see.” Charles bit down on your neck. You panted, squeezing your eyes shut but your hands found his chest and pushed him back. 
“Charles!” You exclaimed. 
Charles gave in and backed off. 
With his tongue in his cheek, he reached down to his trousers and sorted out his erection. 
You felt your cheeks flush violently red at his bold movement. 
“How long are you in town for?” You asked, trying to break the heavy silence. 
“As long as it takes.” He said flatly as he pushed his hair back.
“Well...” You flattened your skirt down completely. “...You can always see me tonight?” 
Charles looked back at you and then finally smiled again. 
“I’d like that.” He responded before planting a kiss on your temple. 
He walked you back to the cafe before hopping into his shiny red automobile and you watched him drive off towards the castle...
AN: Hope this was okay!!
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Text
Christmas Wishes & Mistletoe Kisses [Get Down, Give Joy]
Joe Mazzello x Reader
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Authors Note: Merry Christmas @johndeaconshands - I am your secret santa! 🎄
I really hope you like your gift and it brings a smile to your face.
Thank you to @thosequeenboys and @warriorteam1924 for organising such a lovely event and I hope you all have an amazing Christmas 🎄 ❤
Synopsis: The Mistletoe Ball comes around every Christmas Eve. It's the one night of the year where friends and couples alike celebrate an evening of festive fun. This year will be unlike any other.
Song Inspiration: All I Want For Christmas Is You - Lady A
Pairings: Joe Mazzello x Reader
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
You were all set for the holidays. The Christmas presents were sitting under the tree, wrapped in pretty red bows that shimmered under the twinkling fairy lights. The stockings were hung up upon the fireplace, ready to be filled and there were plenty of festive treats piled up on the table ready to be devoured. All that was left now was to get ready for the one night you had been excitedly anticipating for weeks; The Mistletoe Ball.
It was the one night a year that everybody in your local town had a chance to dress up and enjoy before the big day. Up until this year, you'd never had the pleasure of attending the ball with anybody other than your best friends but that was all about to change.
You took a look at your watch as you anxiously awaited for the doorbell to ring. Finally after months of tip-toeing around, you had plucked up the courage to ask the guy from work to take you to the ball and to your surprise he had accepted. You were beyond nervous but extremely excited at the same time, pulling out all the stops to make sure the evening was perfect. After picking out the perfect outfit and spending hours getting ready in front of the mirror, the time had finally come.
And it just kept on coming. Checking your watch again, you frowned in worry. He said he'd be here at 7pm and it was now nearing half past. Had you given him the wrong address? Maybe he was caught up in traffic? You decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and continued to wait, in hopes that soon enough the doorbell would ring and you would be on your way to the party of the year.
After 45 minutes, the call on the door finally sounded, making you bound to it as fast you could. Expecting to see the dashing face of your date, you were sorely disappointed to see your best friend instead.
"Joe?" You groaned, your lips pouting in disappointment.
"Merry Christmas to you too," he tutted as he allowed himself in, "I was worried about you, the party started half an hour ago,"
You sighed, rolling your eyes as you kicked off your heels and padded into the living room.
"I was waiting for my date if you must know," you huffed.
Joe stifled a small laugh, closing the door behind him and following you into the living room.
"What date?" He asked amused as he sat beside you on the sofa.
You sent him an unamused glare.
"Kyle from work," you huff.
"Wait, isn't he that backstreet boy clone you've been going on non stop about all year?"
"He's not a backstreet boy clone, Joe, he's in accounts,"
Joe cleared his throat.
"I just hoped that maybe I'd get a phone call or something if he couldn't make it last minute," you sighed, scrolling through your phone.
Joe found it highly amusing. You'd been friends for a few years now and he had had to endure all of your heartbreaks and date disasters so this was nothing new. However when he noticed a small tear trickle down your cheek, his smile disappeared.
"Y/N? I'm sorry, I was only -,"
"Oh no, it's fine, ignore me, I'm being silly," you sniffed, wiping your eyes delicately. Just because you were upset didn't mean you were about to ruin the make up you had spent all afternoon applying.
Joe couldn't ignore your sniffles; he was angry. Angry that that arse had stood you up. Secretly, Joe had had a crush on you for at least two years now but had never plucked up the courage to tell you. If he thought letting you know how he felt would make you feel better then he would but he feared it would just make things complicated.
"I feel like such an idiot, Joe," you groaned, your head falling on his shoulder.
He wrapped a comforting around you, leaving a small kiss upon your head.
"Listen - you're dressed up already, why waste a good night?"
You lifted your head up to face him and smiled lightly.
"But I don't have anyone to go with, it will just be another year of standing on the sidelines while everyone who's lucky to be in love dances around me," you sighed.
Joe shrugged.
"You will have someone to dance with,"
You knotted your brows and let out a small chuckle.
"Who?"
"You're looking at him,"
Your eyes widened in shock and butterflies began to flutter in your stomach.
"You don't dance," you giggled.
"I'll do it for you," he winked, "C'mon, the night's not getting any younger,"
You pondered for a moment, biting your lip in anticipation. Secretly, you'd always liked Joe - a lot - but you didn't want to ruin your already tight friendship.
"Okay," you sighed happily, "But you need to ask me properly,"
Now it was Joe's turn to be shocked. He gulped and his cheeks used a bright red as you stood and popped your heels back on. He followed suit and let out his hand for you.
"Y/N?," he asked softly, pulling you a little closer to him, "Can I take you to the dance?"
You gave him a small smile and nodded shyly as you picked up your clutch bag and you both left the house.
The party was incredible. It was like a real life winter wonderland and now you were spinning around in the middle of the floor with the rest of your friends but most importantly, Joe. Your arms were wrapped loosely around his neck, his hands rested securely upon your waist, making you feel safe.
"Hey, come with me," Joe whispered in your ear.
You felt goosebumps trickle across your skin as the words left his mouth and before you knew it, Joe was gently leading you out of the huge marquee and into the snowy garden outside. The trees, bushes and hedges are littered in twinkling lights and a fresh layer of snow has just settled on the ground. In the middle of the garden was a small gazebo, wrapped in winter greens and even more sparkling lights and a few couples occupied it.
"It's even more beautiful than last year," you smiled, beaming up at the brightly lit structure in front of you.
Joe smiled, unbeknownst to you and helped you up the small steps. The other couples dispersed back to the party and you and Joe we left alone. You let out a small sigh and looked up at him.
You shook your head and without really planning it, stepped up onto your tip toes and planted a soft kiss upon Joe's flushed cheek. Your eyes widened immediately and you mentally slapped yourself when all he did was stare down at you. He was obviously only seeing this as a friend helping out a friend thing and nothing more.
"I'm sorry," you blushed, cringing as you tried to look anywhere other than at him.
"Yeah, that was terrible," he chuckled.
Wait a minute? Was he serious? You were only expecting him to say it was okay, not make you feel worse by making a joke out of the situation.
"You missed completely, come here,"
Joe hooked his finger under your chin and gently brought his lips down to yours in a sweet and well overdue kiss. It was at that moment that you realised that Joe was all you had ever wanted for Christmas and for every Christmas afterwards. When he pulled away, you took the chance to look up into his eyes which were filled with nothing less than all the love in the world for you.
"Can I tell you something?"
You nodded as you bit your bottom lip. Joe leant down to your level, his lips coming close to your ear as he whispered three words that you'd been longing to hear ever since the day you'd met him.
"I love you,"
Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes fluttered closed for a second. Joe faced you once more, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a happy tear that fell from your eye.
"I love you too," you smiled, "Merry Christmas,"
The End
Merry Christmas 🎄❄
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idontgettechnology · 3 years
Note
Hey love, if/when you're up for it, can I place a request for a dialogue prompt? "I've never heard you call me that before..." 1974, bonus points for any Tom Hanks reference as usual <3
Here you are, my love. I hope you like it...I couldn’t help myself. 
Naturally, this got long because I literally CAN’T help myself with these two and this universe.
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June 1974
“You look disappointed,” Steve said, watching as Darcy’s eyes skated over his empty classroom.
“I’m not,” she said too quickly. “I said I would help you pack up your room and I will,” she dropped her hands to her hips and turned back to him. “Put me to work, boss.”
He smiled and pointed to the nearest bookshelf. “That needs to be packed up and emptied so they can move it.” He was not moving or switching rooms, but he and the rest of the staff had been informed that the entire interior of Skyline High School was being painted with forty-eight hours’ notice to pack up their classrooms and get everything away from the walls.
It was not how he’d intended to spend his first few days of summer vacation, but Darcy had offered to help, and she looked a little too cute in her shorts and one of his button-downs tied up around her waist for him to refuse. He watched her turn to the bookshelf in question and pull down the heavy art books, dropping a few into the open box on the chair with her lips pouted thoughtfully before she turned back. “I just forgot that your room is more of a studio than an actual classroom.”
“And?” he asked, glancing around with a frown of confusion.
She shrugged went back to work. “Just an observation. I thought cleaning your classroom would mean different kind of work.” She looked over her shoulder and smirked. “Washing chalkboards and cleaning out pencil sharpeners.”
Steve grinned as she stretched up on her toes and pulled the last two books from the top shelf. He crossed to where she stood and put his hands on her hips. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said against her ear. “You want me to find some erasers for you to bang or something?”
She let out a snort that dissolved into a giggle before she turned in his arms, her cheeks pleasantly pink, and rested her hands on his chest. “Say that again?” she asked softly before she bit her lip.
He frowned again, confused. “About the erasers?”
“No,” she shook her head. “The first part.”
“I’m sorry baby?” he repeated.
She nodded and bit back a wider smile. “I’ve just…never heard you call me that before.”
He felt his ears burn. “I’m…sure I have once or twice.”
But Darcy shook her head. “Huh-uh. Sweetheart—sometimes. But that’s it.”
He studied the faint flush of her cheeks, the way her nails curled gently against his t-shirt. “But you…liked this better?” he guessed, lifting his eyebrows.
She shrugged. “I like sweetheart too.”
“But…pet names in general…?”
“I like them when they come from you,” she said softly.
He smiled and leaned in, about to brush his lips over hers, when a sharp knock on the door interrupted them.
“Uh, Mr. Grant—oh, sorry,” the familiar voice of one of his recent graduates hit his ears the second before he dropped his hands from Darcy’s hips and turned around, hoping his own blush wasn’t too obvious. “Hey, Tommy,” he said, clearing his throat as he pushed his hair back from his face.
“Hey, Mr. Grant,” the gangly teenager shuffled a few steps inside the door. His hair was too thick and curly to look good at the length he wore it and it barely moved when he went to tuck it behind his ears. “Sorry to—uh—interrupt.” The corner of his lips twitched into a half smile as he waved briefly in Darcy direction. “The office said you were down here.”
“What’s up?” he asked before he joked, “Shouldn’t you be out enjoying your freedom?” Commencement had only been two nights ago.
Tommy smiled again. “Yeah. I just, uh, forgot to pick up that letter? You said you’d write me?”
“Oh,” Steve jolted at the reminder. “Right. Of course, sorry I meant to give it to you on the last day of school.” He crossed to his desk. “It’s right here.” He retrieved the envelope with his letter of reference for his student’s summer job. “I left it open,” he added as he handed it over. “In case you want to double check that I said something nice.”
The younger of the two men grinned and shook his head. “Nah, you’ve gotta be the nicest teacher I’ve ever had.” He tucked the letter into his back pocket and extended his hand. “Thanks, Mr. Grant. I really appreciate it.”
They shook and he nodded. “Of course. Anytime.”
A third hand appeared between them, attached to Darcy who was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, nearly vibrating with an energy he couldn’t place. “Hi,” she said abruptly. “I’m Darcy, by the way. Darcy Barrett. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Tommy blinked in confusion and turned to shake her hand warily. “Hi…” he said slowly, his gaze darting from Darcy’s barely contained glee to Steve’s equally confused expression. “It’s nice to meet you too.” He looked at Steve again for clarification. “This your old lady, Mr. Grant?”
Darcy laughed at that, a loud peal of a giggle that surprised the both of them. Steve shot her a look as she clapped a hand over her mouth at the same time as he put an arm around her shoulders. “I prefer to call her my better half,” he said, pulling her tighter to his side. A bizarre flair of jealousy in his gut. He always corrected people when they used that adage—Darcy hated that nugget of slang that had dug into this decade.
Only she didn’t seem to hate it right now. He loosened his hold slightly when he felt how hot she was. A thin prickle of sweat had broken out on the back of her neck. Steve glanced between her and Tommy, who was nodding and apologizing, assuring her he had meant no disrespect.
Darcy looked back at Steve. “So you wrote him a letter of recommendation? I didn’t realize he was an artist—” she coughed. “That he’d ever taken your classes, I mean.”
He frowned. It wasn’t as if he ever went over his classroom rosters with her before.
“I’m not an artist,” Tommy assured her before Steve could speak. “I just needed a credit and Mr. Grant was nice enough not to fail me for lack of talent.”
Steve smiled at that. “You came to class on time and did all the assignments best you could,” he reminded him. “There was no reason to fail you.” He had talked a lot, Steve recalled, but he was funny, and his commentary often made the rest of the class laugh in a way that wasn’t directed at anyone; it wasn’t mean or pointed or derisive. He’d been a nice change from some of the other students.
Tommy checked his watch—a cracked leather band and a large face that looked too big for his thin arm and wrist—and winced. “Speaking of on time, I should get going.” He offered his hand again to Steve. “Thanks Mr. Grant. You’re a cool cat.”
Darcy laughed again like he’d just told the best joke she’d ever heard and immediately went red as Steve shook his student’s hand a second time and offered a smile, trying not to let on how concerning Darcy’s behavior was. “Good luck, Tommy. If there’s anything else I can help you with, let me know.”
“Yes,” Darcy chimed in. “Definitely let him know. Anything you need.”
“Uh…thanks,” Tommy said to Darcy and offered her a polite smile. “It was nice to meet you.”
“You too!” she called after him as he left the room.
He turned to her as soon as he was sure he’d heard Tommy’s footsteps all the way down the hall. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
She gaped. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked, her eyes wide. “What’s wrong with you? How could you not tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes narrowing as she studied him closely. “Oh my God you have no idea who that is,” she realized aloud.
He stared back. “My…student,” he said slowly. “Tommy.”
“Tommy Hanks,” she said with emphasis. “Your student is Tom Hanks.”
It took him a second to process what she was saying. “Tom Hanks the actor?” he clarified. “The…guy from Castaway?”
Darcy looked for a moment like she regretted every moment she’d ever spent with him. “The guy from…” she echoed faintly. “Okay, yes, Steven. The guy from Castaway. And more importantly, Big, The Burbs, Joe vs. the Volcano, Money Pit, Sleepless in Seattle, Philadelphia, Turner and Hooch, Splash!” she seized his forearms. “The voice of Woody the Cowboy from Toy Story!”
“Okay, okay,” he laughed. “I…I get it, Darcy. I didn’t realize that my class-clown student was going to grow up into your favorite actor,” he stopped, struck once again by how strange his life really was. How much stranger it was still bound to get. “I had no idea you were such a huge fan.”
She collapsed against him suddenly and rested her forehead on his chest. “Oh my God,” she covered her face. “I was so uncool! I can’t believe I was so uncool!” She looked up after a second through her fingers. “Right? I was pretty uncool?”
Steve grinned and pulled her hands away from her face. “Yes, baby,” he said gently and kissed her forehead. “You were incredibly uncool.”
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sunnydaisy1 · 4 years
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Kiss Me
Mark Sloan x Reader, best friends
A/N: There’s not enough Mark fluff on here and I love this man too much to not write anything. Hope you enjoyyy!
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I absent mindedly watched the TV as Mark rested his head in my lap and I stroked his peppery hair. Mark and I had swiftly become best friends when he moved to Seattle and I was an attending in general surgery. Normally Callie joined us in our evenings after work but she had decided to go to Joe's instead for whatever reason. I smiled as I felt Mark chuckle underneath me at Jake Peralta doing something stupid. I looked down at him and my heart fluttered at his chiseled face. I was sitting on the couch while Mark stretched out across it but kept his head in my lap. I brushed my right hand across his forehead into his hair and ran my fingers through the soft strands. "You alright there watching me?" Mark said, tilting his head up to look at me. I rolled my eyes but smiled, "Im not watching you idiot." Mark chuckled and raised his eyebrows but returned to watching the show. I stopped running my hands through his hair, trying to focus on our favourite show but it was incredibly hard considering the sexiest, funniest and kindest man i know was lying next to me. Suddenly, the doorbell rang and Mark looked up at me, eyebrows furrowed, "You expecting anyone Y/N?" I shook my head, "No unless it's Callie." Mark instantly shook his head, "nah not her." I frowned in suspicion and Mark beamed. I patted his hair to get him to lift up so I could check who it was at the door and he obliged. I tiptoed to the door, looking through the peekhole. As soon as I saw snobby Gina from nextdoor standing there with her nose upturned and designer clothes I groaned quietly. I tiptoed back to Mark quietly, rolling my eyes. "Who is it?!" Mark whisper yelled, still lying on the sofa with his arms resting above his head, showing off his perfectly toned biceps. "Bloody Gina from next door, she's such a pain in the ass and always comes round to complain." I replied, rubbing my forehead with my hand as the doorbell continued to ring, now accompanied by knocking. Mark laughed and i quickly shushed him, making him chuckle. "I can answer the door if you want and say you're not home." He kindly offered but I shook my head, "No it won't work she'll know I'm here with you, we need to make her go away!" I whispered, looking around the room. Mark smirked cheekily, "We could pretend to have sex." My eyes widened and I thwacked his chest, whispering "Mark! Stop being so dirty!" He just grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at me. I groaned and looked to the door again where Gina was furiously knocking, yelling she knows Im in there. "I'll just answer it." Mark said, sitting up now. "Yeah and say goodbye to a relaxing evening!" I whisper yelled, frantically searching my brain for ideas. Mark was silent and when I finally looked at him he smirked that signature grin and I crossed my arms over my chest. "What?" "We can just pretend to be having sex- " Mark started but I interrupted him, "No I already said no to that idea idiot." He stood up and put a hand on each of my shoulders. "No we don't have to make noises Y/N, however much I'd like to hear you, we can just make it look like we are." Mark continued, watching smugly as my face heated up at his flirting. "What do you mean?" I asked, scolding myself for even considering the idea. "We just make me look like I'm having sex with you, ya know, mess up my hair etc." Mark grinned, his eyes scanning my face. I gave him a pointed look and he winked, making me huff in exasperation. "Fine, come here." I gave in, pulling Mark towards me. A cheeky smile played on Mark's lips as he leaned down a little to me, letting me ruffle his hair. "Okay done." I said, standing back and biting my lip. "Actually wait a second." I brought his head back down and reached my hands round to the back of his neck, pulling the hair softly. Mark sucked in a breath as I did and i smirked, shaking my head at the horny 15 year old man. "Okay now you're done." I said, trying not to look at his ruffled hair too long, wanting to run my hands through it. Mark stepped back from me, discarding his shirt to which my eyes bulged and scanned his torso, taking in the toned abs and v line and his upper body. "Enjoying yourself there Y/N?" He asked and I shook my head, stuttering, "what uh no." Mark chuckled at my flustered response and went to undo his belt and trousers. "Woah woah woah." I said, stopping him from going any further. "She doesn't need to see you naked Sloan." Mark lopsidedly smirked, making my heart beat quicker, desperately trying to focus on his face. "If you say so ma'am." He ran from one side of the room to the other, before dropping to the ground and doing 5 pushups. I watched my best friend ashamedly, admiring the flexing muscles across his back and chest. Mark jumped back up and winked at me, his face looking hotter and a little sweaty. He walked to the door and I hid in the hallway, watching him open it up to Gina. "Oh hi." She said, obviously checking him out as she scanned him head to toe. Mark grinned at her cheekly, showing off flirtily. He acted a little out of breath as he smoothly replied, "Hey." I rolled my eyes at his smug look despite my heart beating rapidly in my chest. "I'm not interrupting anything am I?" Gina asked, a horrible smile on her face. "Just a little." Mark replied, winking as he leant against the doorframe. The devious woman in front of him practically melted and tucked her bleached hair behind her ear. "I was just wondering if I could please talk to Y/N?" She asked sickenly sweet. I waited for Mark's response as he smirked at her. "No can do love, we're a bit preoccupied." Gina frowned and clasped her bag, "I'll come back later then." Mark shook his beautifully gorgeous face and leaned down to whisper something to her. I strained my ears to hear and flushed when I heard his reply. "I'm afraid we're gonna be busy all night." Gina at once flushed but smiled flirtily back, "Okay, I'll see you around then." Mark nodded and closed the door as she started back to her apartment. He turned back to face me and grinned, watching me scoot from the top of the cabinet by the stairs. He walked over to me and let me place my hands on his bare warm shoulders as I jumped down, securing his own hands on my waist. "Thanks Mark, you're a literal life saver." He chuckled and let go of me as I smiled up at him. "Anything for you Y/N." I blushed and quickly walked to the open kitchen. "Put your shirt back on Sloan." I said teasingly as he went back to the couch. I filled the kettle and was just turning round when I felt Mark's hands on my waist. I moved to face him and watched as he intently looked at me, a small smirk spreading across his face while I frowned. He had me pinned up by the edge of the counter and I flicked my gaze to his lips and back to his warm eyes. "m..mark?" I asked as he continued to scan my face and I could feel myself getting flustered. He started to move closer and I panicked, coughing and making him lean back. He himself flushed this time but kept his grip on my waist, "Oh I just wanted to ask for a coffee please." I nodded and watched wide eyed as Mark hesitated before leaving the kitchen. My mind raced as I got some mugs out the cupboard, was he about to kiss me? Was I about to kiss him? Did I want to kiss Mark? I was too busy staring at the kettle waiting for it to boil that I didn't notice Mark walking back into the kitchen behind me. I yelled out in surprise as an arm turned me all of a sudden before I was quietened by a pair of soft lips being pressed against mine. I widened my eyes in shock as my best friend kissed me, his hand cupping my cheek and then pulled away, blush on his face as he looked at me. I stammered in surprise and Mark widened his eyes, sensing my shock. "Oh my god I'm sorry Y/N, I just couldn't stop myself, I've wanted to kiss you for so long and I even bribed Callie to give us the evening alone. Im so sorry Ive ruined everything." Mark stepped back but I quickly stopped him, placing a hand on his arm. He never got flustered and to see him suddenly so vulnerable cleared my thoughts. "Mark." He looked up at me with hurt eyes and I snaked one hand to cup his jaw while the other went to the nape of his neck. I leaned in but stopped an inch away. "Kiss me." I breathed out, looking at his pink lips. He at once crashed his lips into mine, putting one hand on my waist and the other cupping my cheek. We kissed for what felt like forever but was only a minute until I pulled his hair at the back of his neck softly and he groaned into my mouth, making me smirk and pull away. I rested my forehead againt his chest, eyes closed before I looked up into his eyes. "So, you bribed Torres?" Mark groaned and let his head fall, a small grin on his face. "You're never gonna let me live this down are you?" He asked and I beamed, leaning in and whispering "never" before capturing his lips with mine again. 
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