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#its international clown week right??? its His week!!!!
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i can't stop scribbling him. Help
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kenlvry · 1 year
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LISTEN TO ME RN HEAT ME TF OUT STANS GANG + CRAIG DOIGN THE LIPSTICK TREND FROM TICTOK WITH READER
the lipstick trend with stan and craigs team
an, I AM LISTENLING ANON DONT WORRY. no idea what you mean by heat out though 🤨 , 17-18 and gn reader but use of her in tolkiens
kenny
he was the one who suggested it, it came across his fyp one day and he sent it to you "lets do this come over rn." "you asked, why dont you come to my house? 🤨" "why don't i cum in your mom" "HUH 😧" "im here."
you both definitely argue on what lipstick you should wear "okay but i don't even use pink lipstick" "well you should" "its light colour its not gonna appear" "well fuck 😒"
the process of kissing his face is wild, he would suggest to do his lips as the first place "KENNY HOW ARE WE GONNA DO THIS TREND IF YOU KEEP TRYING TO MAKE OUT WITH ME" "ITS NOT MY FAULT"
after like2 hours you finally get the lipstick on his face. now the tiktok was even harder he wouldn't stop laughing. you'd give up and he apologises while laughing
thank god you guys were able to finish it under 1 hour it turned out really good, at the end of the video he kissed you and you wanted to cut that part but he said keep it for like and its true the comments were all about the kiss on the last clip
kyle
okay he too wanted to ask you first but he was kinda shy and waited for you to ask and you did!! woohoo for kyle
"kyle wanna do this" "OKAY" he insists on picking your lipstick and picks the ugliest colour like what 😐
to him there was no such thing as an ugly colour buy it didn't suit your face so no way.
the process of it was calm, he at first wanted to put on the lipstick for you but you looked like a clown has mans never put on lipstick??
he watches you as you kiss him and reapply lipstick and then kiss him again, he feels like a princess fr 🤭🤭
he hasn't seen his face yet so when you record and he saw his face he laughs out loud, "LMAO WHY DO I LIKE THAT??" "WDYM"
you would tell him to take off his hat which he refuses but you looked too cute, when it posted cartman was first to comment and you can already tell what he commented "ew gay" your followers defended you two though 🤭
stan
stan blushes internally when you ask him. "sure im down" DEEP DOWN HE WANTS KIDNAP YOY AND KEEP YOU TO HIMSELF
"what lipstick do you think matches me best, pink or red?" "id say my tip colour" "WHAT 😧"
he has to hold in the very urge to puke every time you kiss him because like you look so cute omg.
he looks in the mirror and is js like "damn, i did it". HE LOVES IT SOOOO MUCH YOU CAN TELL HE'S BLUSHING ONGG ‼️
he even directs you like "do here next, okay now here" its so cute 🤭🤭
when you record and the camera pans to him, he smiles and covers his face blushing bc he can't contain it. it was such a cute video and got iver 2 mil likes. cartman definitely commented "i bet you had to change your clothes 10 times"
cartman
"cartman lets do this" "what." "wdym? cmon its cute" "y/n no offense but that is the most gayest shit i've ever seen" " NO ITS NOT UTS CUTE" "my reputation is at stake if i do that be so for real" "okay I'm asking kyle then" "lets do it."
he actually been wanting to ask you for weeks now but doesn't know how so winwin. you take your absolute time picking your lipstick and he couldn't be more done with "hurry up this doesn't even effect anything" "shut up cartman if i use the right one people will ask what lipstick it is and i get views"
picking a lipstick was already a big deal just imagine the process "ew gay not on my lips" "cartman 😐" tbh he wish he could just make out with you rn but yk how mans is
now recording is even more a hassle "JUST SMILE IS IT SO HARD TO CRACK A SMILE" "NOT WHILE IM LOOKING LIKE THIS" the most he does is wipes your lipstick off and then he just gives a 🙄 look until the end of the video
the comments are just him getting teased at clydes commenting "NAHHH CAN'T BELIEVE HE AGREED TO THIS" kyles is "i can tell that this took a long time" and then wendys is "is that cartman or a clone of him". cartman is pissed af at the comment, he told you his reputation is at stake 😒.
he actually has it saved downloaded and also is his live wallpaper sooo.
butters
butters is the one who asked you this " um y/n can we do this? 😣" while twiddling his fingers, "OKAY"
he's all giddy and smily during the process, after every kiss his blushes intensifies and by the end of it he is just.. 🔴
even though it is the most simplest video ever he has to have a tutorial, he is asking questions for everything man, how do i wipe the lipstick, what do i do, do i smile when its on me , do i laugh??
you tell him what he thinks he should he and he starts kissing you bc rn the sexual tension between you two is intense (to him atleast, he thinks thinks hand holding is already intense)
everyone comments on how cute he is and yk how tiktok is so people comment "does he whimper" "submissive who?" and hes likw WHATTTTT 🧍
clyde
when you suggested this he nodded so hard his head probably was about to fall off. "clyde you wanna do this" "DO I???" ..... "well.. do you?" "i mean yeah it's like a way of- yes i wanna do it"
he loves any lipstick you wear so he lets you pick. after every kiss he looks in the mirror and kicks his feet giggling and you just stand there 🤨
he also tries to make it a makeout session like kenny, when you kissed on his lips he holds your neck and literally makes out with like cnon we have 9 more
when you first hit record and yk how the guy has to wipe your lipstick off, nah he grabbed you by the chin and slams his lips with yours "WHY DIS YOU DO THAT??" "its called content,you wouldn't know with your 9 likes and 70 views"
well you kept the clip and everyone in the comments were talking about it "need a boyfriend like you y/n" "why can't my boyfriend be like this" clyde is obviously gloating bc he had the idea.
tolkien
most romantic man you know, is the first to ask you. "y/n can we do this?" "OKAY BOO 😝"
"hmm which lipstick do you think babe?" "i think every lipstick makes you pretty, it doesn't matter if it doesn't suit you because in my eyes you look beautiful in anything ☺️" "what if i wore kim kardashians 2013 met gala dress" "might have to rethink what i said"
he smiles while you kiss him here and there, every once a while he kisses you back, it was such a cute moment for you two😝🤞🤞
when recording he looks at you while smiling during the whole video and it blew up fast because of that
"the way he looks at her" "wishing he was like this" "you got the bag that man is inlove", it blew in seconds fr
craig
"craig lets do-" "okay" "i didnt even ask you yet" "I'll do anything if its with you" "what if i asked you to have a threesome" ".....if its makes you happy idk.."
idk about you but i think he acts like he doesn't care but inside he is so happy you asked he's been wanting to ask you this but doesn't know how to start up the convo
he doesn't care what lipstick or where you kiss him, its just the way you press your lips on him and look at it then quickly reapply to do it again because it wasn't pigmented enough.
when recorded, he doesn't just wipe he makes you turn to face him by grabbing your chin, and he doesn't let go and just looks at you with those yk siren eyes.
people are simping over him ong "damn girlie share for us" "you mean OUR boyfriend" "tryna find someone as hot as him" and you are pissed fr he laughs at you cursing out the people, like bae dw my eyes only fo you 😝🤞
tweek
"tweek, wanna do this?" "but what if I can't remove the lipstick stain" "tweek what dw i have makeup remover" "WHAT IF THAT DOESN'T WORK 🤯🤯" "TWEEK"
okay so the lipstick may turn out ugly bc of how shaky he is but ITS OKAY BC ITS TWEEK DUH, "a-are you sure you dont want to redo this?" "tweek its fine"
he insists on redoing it the 2nd try turns our worse because he's even more twitchy because of how close you are☺️☺️☺️
his face is just red because he keeps wiping it off with his hands so you can redo it and its obvious too
recording it was so funny because you can't stop laughing at the smudge lipsticks
when posted the comments were so cute but... uh questionable some were "the way the smudges are so obvious 😭😭❤️" or "wishing my future relationship will be like this 🤭" and some were just "tip colour when?? 😜"
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ddeonuswhre · 1 month
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ [END].
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Juyeon x M!reader.
Author's Note: uuuh I don't think I'm okaaaaaaaay, I don't think I'm okay. I honestly didn't know whether to upload it, I feel like it's garbage.
Previously: You're tired of being his last option (being hidden) and you decide to end "things" with him, maybe he'll fix it, maybe he won't.
Genre: Discussions, Against, Fluff (kinda), Drama.
Wrng: internalized homophobia.
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"I should have dressed as a clown to make a fool of myself in a better way." You thought.
It was around noon and you had been waiting for more than three hours for what is supposedly your boyfriend. You both had agreed that today you would see each other after a very hard week, exams and projects were driving you crazy. There is nothing better than a whole day resting with the person you love the most so far. At least, that's what you thought when you first arrived at the coffee shop. Where is he? It was your only question for a while now. He didn't even answer your calls. That would have been the last straw, the whole jug. It wasn't the first time he had put you through something like this, but after many conversations, he promised that he would change and you really tried to believe him.
You wanted to continue waiting for him, you wanted to continue hoping for the idea that he would arrive, but the time was approaching for you to be in your first class of the day and since you were also part of the committee, you decided to pay for your coffee and leave without further ado. You felt so embarrassed after paying the girl, you spent more than two hours boasting to her that this would be 'the day' and that after a long time, she would finally meet the boy you've been talking so much about for more than 4 months now, unfortunately things didn't happen—again.
"M/N!" You heard from afar that distinctive loud voice that could only tell you who it was, you were so angry that you decided to speed up your pace to avoid talking to him, however your ways of escaping would have been worthless after feeling his fingers gently sink into your shoulder. When you turned around you began to listen to his great sermon of reasons why he took 'longer than he thought', but as always, everything he said ended with 'sorry, bro' and its characteristic way of messing up your hair.
Ouch, to a certain point you understood that he was afraid to say that he is gay, I mean, he told you before they started dating and you were fine with that, I say you were because you always saw him surrounded by several of his 'girl-friends' and even you saw him hugged by the neck with one in particular. Does he have to do all that just out of fear? I think he also forgot that you also had feelings, maybe he forgot that you were dating and that constantly made you overthink. The only thing you wanted was to be able to hold his hand without him constantly looking around.
ㅡSomething happens?ㅡThe brunette exclaimed after seeing you all the way with your head down and muttering a couple of things that didn't make much sense.
"I was just thinking about the exams. . . and us." You didn't want to get into your feelings any further. It wasn't even the place, and surprisingly, not the person you would want to talk to about this. On the other hand, you only heard a heavy sigh and saw out of the corner of your eye how he only nodded sadly.
"Did I do something wrong? Tell me what I did wrong now, and I'll fix it" You felt a big hole in your chest, you wanted to scream at him right then and there about everything that should change so that you could stop feeling like a shitty boyfriend and he could lose that fear of being left alone just because he had someone of the same sex as his partner, but you only deigned to stare at him and caress his cheek.
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In the entire class you couldn't concentrate better because of the laughing session that Juyeon was having with one of his friends at the back of the room, you had finally decided that the best option—for you—would be to end what was still going on between the two of you. You didn't hesitate to send him a random message but you didn't get a response from the boy, you had no choice but to wait until class could finish and talk to him before he went to play basketball.
"Juyeon, I have to tell you something, and I think it will be quick." You told him when he was going down a couple of steps after the teacher was ready to put his things away and leave, when the individual left and there was no one else in the room—so you two started talking about how you felt being there, after several months together; what liked to do most, what didn't, etc. Everything was going so well until some basketball teammates rushed to the classroom door and asked for the tallest one.
Your heart stopped after hearing him say, "Just give me a minute, I'm talking to a friend." Is that what you were to him? It seems that yes, Eric was right. You should not continue being in a place where you were only the couple when he got the chip on. You didn't know that "friends" always spent their time kissing or watching a series while doing nothing but caressing each other or even ending up naked on a bed with only a sheet covering both bodies. It didn't take long for your eyes to be glassy with the amount of tears you didn't want to shed, at least not in front of him, in front of the same boy who broke your heart in the worst way you've ever experienced so far.
You tried to raise your gaze so you could see his eyes and give him a weak smile, you did nothing more than leave a couple of pats on his shoulder before leaving the room. You knew that things didn't go any further after he denied you, who knows how many times he must have done the same thing, that was the real reason why you no longer fought or thought with hate.
"W-wait, what does this mean?" The raven man asked after rushing out of the same place and thus taking you by the forearm.
ㅡWe're done, I don't like going out with friends.ㅡ You said as you let go of his grip and continued walking to the cafeteria, where your best friend was.
The boy, for his part, just stood there stunned in that cold hallway where you left him without even turning to look at him, he was stunned, he couldn't process anything that just happened, he knew he screwed up.
Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.
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pehmokoira · 3 months
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I think we could all use a morale booster after 2 weeks in the gravy basket, so I decided to write a few reasons why I believe Our Flag Means Death can still be saved!
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Please note that I know literally nothing about how the industry actually works, I'm just clowning and these are opinions based on articles I've read etc. 🤡
Arrested Development was saved by Netflix after Fox cancelled it because of low ratings and viewership. Now, we can't know the numbers for OFMD for certain, but the ratings and reviews have been preeetty good, and season 2 even has a higher Tomatometer score than season 1. (96% vs. 93%) So in that sense, the chances are good. Everything was pointing towards renewal until January 9th!
Which gets me to my next point. If the cancellation really was one person's decision (DZ better watch his fucking step), then that means the show was as good as renewed and it HAD the numbers and the viewership and everything it needed to continue.
Each cancellation case is unique. It's kind of pointless to compare OFMD with any other cancelled show, because the chances of any show getting picked up after cancellation depend on so many things. Production costs, show quality, the potential of the show, viewership, probably also connections/relationships in the industry, etc. But it all boils down to money in the end.
Max is covering up the real reason for the cancellation by lying, which means they've completely fucked up by cancelling this show. Max is the one that looks bad right now, not OFMD. This is bad PR for Max.
David Jenkins has not told us to stop with our renewal efforts, which means there's hope. He knows more than we do. In Jenkins I trust. I won't give up until he tells us it's over.
It's only been 2 weeks and 1 day. It would've been something of a miracle if the show had been picked up in that short a time. Lucifer was saved by Netflix a month after the cancellation.
And lastly, the pros for OFMD:
The show hasn't been on a widely available international streaming service so far. Big potential for new audiences on a different platform.
The marketing for the show has been abysmal, but it's become a flagship series for Max despite that.
The fanbase is loud and passionate, and we've shouted about wanting to buy merch on X. We won't shut up about the show and that's a beautiful and important thing.
Max's lies about the cancellation are so transparent almost anyone can see through them. The people in the industry have probably noticed Max's pattern of cancelling shows about marginalized groups.
The representation in the show is something you don't find in any other show, and while that could be its downfall, it's also the greatest strength of the show. Bigger streaming services aren't as scared of queers as Max is.
The story that the show tells is quite unique.
These are just a few things that came to mind right now. Feel free to reblog and list more reasons if you can think of any!
Edit: I wrote another post about this too! That one's about ✨the numbers✨!
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This scenario is in my mind for weeks now and I need to share
Bruce has been missing for almost a year.
No one knows where he is or can contact him
Dick makes regular calls and visits to the mansion to keep Alfred company. Sometimes he sees the new boy, Tim Drake. Sometimes he just talks to Alfred. And sometimes Kate is there. It's strange to enter the mansion so silent
Bruce is a silent man and he is definitely not someone anyone would call warm and cozy. But there was always a lively air in the mansion when Bruce was around. And not just the mansion, but Gotham also seemed abandoned, empty and sad without its dark knight
It was an unbearable but invisible discomfort. Dick felt it under his skin, and the trapeze artist was sure that the young detective sitting in front of him also felt the same discomfort
It was an ordinary night at Wayne Manor, Alfred had made tea and cookies for the two boys who were now sitting in the living room near the fireplace, it was a cozy night, but at the same time cold and dark. You could see the sky through the mansion's large windows, the comfortable (and at the same time uncomfortable) silence between the two young people hung in the air. The butler sat with the boys in the other armchair, there wasn't much to be done, just wait for some sign from Bruce. Hoping he's alive
Alfred never gave up hope, the old butler always believed that his master would return home. Bruce always came back. Gotham was his home. There was no other place in the world for Bruce but Gotham
Tim Drake opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it. Maybe he thought of another theory. Or he just wanted to talk to his about something. Anything.
Gotham's crimes had increased, without Batman the villains and thugs became more fearless. Nightwing and Robin fought side by side to bring peace to the city, but they weren't enough, as everything had lost control
The good thing was that Joker had stopped acting, without Batman, the clown didn't see the fun in committing crimes. It was almost like a flirt between him and Batman. Sometimes Dick wanted to know, sometimes he didn't. Be that as it may, everyone was grateful for the clown's silence
"I heard on the radio that it's going to rain tonight" Alfred began to speak calmly, breaking the silence in a subtle way "I've already prepared the beds for both of you, rest here today, my boys"
Dick noticed the slight smile on the younger detective's face, something that made Dick happy internally. Maybe it would be nice to spend a night at the mansion like the old days, waking up to Alfed's delicious breakfast. There was nothing in the world that could compare to this.
But before Dick could respond, the trio heard loud knocking on the door. Something that made the old butler and the two detectives look at the large piece of wood and steel in astonishment
Wayne Manor doesn't usually receive visitors, and how did someone get there without triggering the gate alarms?
The old butler hurriedly got to his feet and went to open the door, the two boys right behind him, ready for an attack if necessary
Whoever was on the other side of the door knocked louder
Alfred had no choice in opening the door slightly, an action that made him startled, as the person knocking on the door was the master of the house himself
Bruce Wayne
Wearing a black and dark green outfit, wet from rain, mud and blood. The beard was about to be shaved, the hair was a little longer. The disregard for the appearance of such a detailed and meticulous Bruce Wayne was obvious. Whether the trio dared to think about saying anything about the great detective's sloppy appearance is unknown, as all the words died in their mouths when they noticed who was with Bruce
Next to Bruce was a young boy, a little taller than Dick. Black hair framing a cold face. This boy wore red and black clothes. But it wasn't his appearance that surprised them, it was who he was
Jason Todd
He shouldn't be there. He definitely shouldn't be there. Jason was dead! Buried in the backyard of Wayne Manor like all the other members of that strange family
Not there standing next to Bruce
Alfred opened his mouth to speak, the butler's hands reached out and he touched his former grandson's face. Jason was there. Jason was alive! Everyone's mind exploded with questions. Sadness. Confusion. Anger. Pain. Fault.
There were several emotions and none of them were meaningless
"B..." Dick managed to utter, still in shock like the other two
But before the trapeze artist could form a sentence, a sound was heard
A soft moan that came from the coat wrapped in Bruce's arms
The moan was light and low, like a kitten crying to sleep, but it was enough to keep Jason on alert
The former robin left Alfred's arms and immediately went to check on the small package
Something that alerted the other three that there was someone else there and immediately more doubts arose
"master Bruce... what does this mean?" Alfred said in amazement, watching a cute little baby smile at Jason
"I brought my children home, Alfred," Bruce said proudly, a big, genuine smile on that tired, scruffy face. There was a gleam in Bruce's eyes that could only be described as euphoria. "My children were lost, but now all my children are gathered in my house"
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velvetmel0n · 1 year
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I Slithered Here From Eden; Prologue
Summary: The Embassy’s newest intern has a run in with everyone’s favorite Colonel
Word count: 1.2k
Warnings: I haven’t written in like two years so enter at your own risk, idk man age gap??? Reader has graduated college and is like midish twenties, neither party wants to pine but oh well, the university girl and the colonel tag is becoming a fic
A/N: Consider this like a teaser trailer for the feature length fic coming soon to a screen near you......I’m putting my clown wig on as we speak
@vladviago @alexxavicry @nessamc @hallothankmas @mamacitapascal @morguleth @venusandromedadjarin @watsonwise @mserynlarsen @brihhhhhh @millllenniawrites @bookshelvesandteacups @littleferal @feelmyroarrrr @maybege @wretchedwisteria @oldstuffnewstuff @miss-me-jack @plexflexico @writefightandflightclub  @visintaes @mapache-lector @goldafterglow @hansoulo @mylifeliterally @adverbedly @spoopyredacted @pikemoreno @perropascal @shadow-assassin-blix @veracruz-miller @flightlessangelwings @themarcusmoreno​
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You’re too focused on the files in front of you to notice his entrance, mind too full of manila folders and grainy photographs, trying to divine an organizational system that makes sense to more than just you from redacted words and red ink. Trying to make sense of how things work in this place where the green of the jungle and the humidity are each living, breathing things— so unlike the sleepy college town you’d been imported from, courtesy of the Embassy. Professional internship, they had called it. Your reward for all the sleepless nights over the years, studying into the small hours of the morning to graduate well within the top of your class, several minors and certificates tacked along behind your actual major because you wanted to be good. Wanted to save the world, wanted to weasel your way into international politics and diplomacy and communications because you thought that changing it from within, from the room where it happened, would be the best strategy. 
And you still do, but sometimes you wish saving the world came with better coffee. You don’t bother hiding the grimace as you gulp it down, too bitter and burnt for the cheap, breakroom creamer in the little plastic cups to really touch it but it’s still your second cup of the day and beggars can’t be choosers. In the short weeks since your arrival you had gotten used to the acrid taste, the way it liked to stick to your teeth. It seems to underscore your work in times like these, when it’s barely ten o’clock in the morning and you’re already frustrated, ran fifteen minutes late because you thought you could walk to the Embassy this morning, wanted to enjoy the sights and sounds of the city waking from its fitful sleep. You made three wrong turns before you’d admitted defeat and caught a taxi. 
But you had made it and you’re here now, engrossed in your work, lost to the outside world until a voice sounds from right in front of you, cutting through the din of the office because he’s actually addressing you in a voice you’ve never heard before. You can’t help the way you jump, heart tripping over itself and one of the papers in your hand slicing across the pad of your thumb, right down the middle.
“Colonel Carrillo,” Because you know who he is, had been given a run down on all the important players when your plane had landed so you’d be able to hit the ground running, wouldn’t have to wait for formal introductions that may never come. He looks the same as he did in the photo you were shown, right down to the uniform he’s wearing, but you’re seeing him in the flesh now, can see the true breadth of his shoulders and the way he seems to fill the whole room up. Can see the way the coworkers who’ve noticed keep sneaking glances from the corner of their eye, like they want to look but don’t want the full weight of his attention on them. 
Because it is a weight, thick and heavy and warm as it settles on your eyes, your skin. 
“What can I do for you?” You can feel heat rising up the back of your neck but you rally, proud when there’s no quaver in your voice despite the way you almost jumped out of your skin. This is what you do, after all. Your job. You did not come here just to shake like a leaf at the sight of Escobar’s own personal boogie man, the man you’ve been hearing stories about since you arrived. Mean, they say. Brutal. And you have half a mind to believe them, of course, because this is Colonel Horacio Carrillo. The one person in charge of the Search Bloc, the man leading the war on the ground.  
But his voice is soft as he speaks to you, so at odds with the harsh lines of his face, the set of his jaw. “Get these to Peña and Murphy,” No please, no thank you as he hands the small stack of files over, just the silent expectation that his orders will be fulfilled. 
His fingers are warm and rough as you take the files from him, skin brushing skin and for some reason that small touch, that one small feel of him, makes your breath catch and something dangerous prickle across your skin. You try not to think about it the same way you’re trying not to think about the blood that’s surely blooming on your thumb, the little ache that’s underscoring everything that’s happening, the throb underneath the skin. The same way you’re trying not to think about the heat that’s begun pooling low in your belly, the way the hair on the back of your neck is standing up because he hasn’t looked away from you once. Not once, and the realization makes it a little harder to breathe.
“I’ll make sure they get them,” You hope your smile is easy, if a little bland. Hope he can’t read anything else in the curve of your lips because the last thing you need is him. Older and meaner than you have any right to want. Dark in a way you can’t quite fathom yet, the kind of dark that justifies the means to an end everyone in this building wants to see. An end you want to see. 
He nods once, a simple dip of his chin and what might have been a murmured ‘thank you,’ and you don’t look at his shoulders as he walks away. You don’t look at how he moves, how people get out of his way long before he reaches them. He’s something quiet and seething and it shouldn’t make your mouth water, the latent power that you already know lies just beneath his skin. It shouldn’t make something low in your belly quiver, almost in time with the throbbing of your thumb. 
You swipe the blood way with your tongue, sucking on the cut until it stops its slow drip, taking care not to get any on the paperwork spread around you. It tastes like pennies and the coffee that had spilled over the rim of your cup when you’d walked back to your desk. It tastes like Carrillo’s name. 
You don’t see him for the rest of the week but you can’t keep him out of your head, his voice haunting you when it’s late at night and the air is warm and heavy, when the shadows can keep your secrets. You blame it on the fact that you’d never met someone like him before, never seen someone like him before— so big and solid with that scowl on his face.
 You don’t want to know what it says about you that he’s the one that you can’t stop thinking about, not Peña or even Murphy, or any of the other men at the Embassy you see on a semi-regular basis. You don’t want to know what it says about you that instead of wanting one of them, a good portion nice-enough-seeming and closer to your age bracket, you want the Colonel. 
You don’t know that he’s thinking about you either, so bright and soft he didn’t know what he was looking at, at first. You kept your word though, getting the files to Peña and Murphy as soon as you could, and he tells himself that's why he comes back to you when he needs something else. Why he keeps coming back until he learns your name, until you smile when you see him and start asking how his day is going. 
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probayern · 5 months
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Personally i think the reason why the coach topic has been chaotic lately is because bayern has always been held at a higher standard than everyone else. Losing one match out of 15 is not catastrophic in any way shape or form, its pretty normal really.
The problem seems to be that tuchel has yet to do proper convincing at bayern. None of his tactics have worked, he lacks system, makes random subs (if he even makes subs at all), neglects thomas' importance on the team and then subs him in when the team has problems thinking hes some sort of magic solution, thought signing kane was enough yet forgot to strengthen our defense and middle and don't even get me started on his controversial opinions outside the field (such as considering boateng, claiming his innocent due to retrial and saying he mediated between nous and peretz only to be revealed made nous apologize). I also agree sacking a coach quickly isn't right it should take time for a coach to accommodate within a new team, but even his bosses aren't convinced according to german media so i guess time will tell if he should get a second chance or not.
i mean yeah i definitely agree that tuchel has not convinced. i'm certainly not arguing that tuchel's bayern has been brilliant. however. i think some of it is not his fault--like the transfer decisions made in the summer, he was VERY vocal about wanting a midfielder, so i don't blame him for us not getting one--and some of it i'm not sure where i really stand anyway--like as much as i love thomas i don't think starting him more would fix any of our issues. i also think some of what he has done has been really quite good and is overlooked--until today we had only conceded 9 goals in the league despite having 3 cbs two of whom have been injured for many weeks at a time. and until november international break, our attack was really looking good. so, i do think that tuchel has done some good stuff, though obviously there are problems.
given that, do i really think another coach could come in and fix it all? i don't really think so. i know we all want to believe in the magic bullet but i think that's what the club thought tuchel was when they sacked nagelsmann (and i was VERY critical of nagelsmann) and it didn't work. it never really works for long periods at a time. what we really need is a good january window and to get into a groove at the right time. if it's still not working at the end of this year? sure, maybe, let's try something different. but the WORST case scenario here is doing exactly what we did last year--overreacting to a bad loss after a string of unconvincing performances--and bring someone new in and then have it not work AGAIN. then we would literally be a clown show. the way people laugh at chelsea? that's what i'm afraid of. i don't care if i have to watch a season of not my favorite football. i would care a lot if we become yet another clownshow superclub desperately trying to cling to past success
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azrael-wiffen · 2 years
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Act I:
With a half hour of sleep being a generous estimate I was up at 3am sliding out an early poo, unusual for me in the pregame. All business and efficiency I set about greasing my entire body in running lubricant, standard running kit plus a couple of additional hacks to keep cool and sun protected. Now it was time to head to the start line for some athlete breakfast and nervous anticipation cut by friendly banter and shit talk.
These are the moments when time stands still but moves in the blink or an eye…
I have never felt such fear and trepidation before an event but here I was, just stick to the plan. I had told myself and anyone that asked for the last few weeks that a result of 29h59m59s is all I was after, anything else was a bonus. I knew my training wasn't sufficient but a couple of conversations in the days preceding planted a 24hour attempt in my mind…maybe, the main thing is to take it easy on the down hills early on and see how we are feeling. Take it easy, hike the uphills, don't get caught up in the crowd, run your own race.
The two things that came across as this biggest concern were the elevation and the heat, to add to this i had to watch my Achilles and right hip flexor so I wouldn't be caught dragging that leg for half the event and then the dreaded calf cramps that sporadically raise their head during events.
I was one of the first to arrive giving me the pick of the breakfast items. Juice and a muffin then slowly the rooms began to fill out, warm inside and quite brisk outside. I slowly moved amongst the crowd chatting to the runners, crew and organisers I had met over the preceding days as well as making some more last minute run buddies….then that iconic gate with its red digital glow began to reach go time.
Slowly the herd began to filter out into the elements to prepare for the ceremonial countdown and shotgun fire signalling the beginning of the long day out or, as they say, the big dance. I had joked the day before that there were that many Australians, we should hustle ourselves to pole position and block out the front runners with a row of Aussies but now it all gets serious. I shuffled my way toward the front of the corral as the countdown timer I had watched over the previous days lurched below the one minute stamp. Soon we broached ten seconds and the tradition of everyone counting down in unison, peak nervousness set in as I attempted to maintain composure and focus on taking it easy. The hard part is done, I made it to the start line, whatever happens from here is a bonus. Ceremony dictates a gunshot indicating the start of the event but I didn't hear it…
An easy run out of the gate, maybe one hundred metres and then the more than 4km climb begins, pull back to an easy hike straight away. So far so good, although a few times I feel my great rate rise so I try to calm myself internally and with deep breaths, more of that nervous energy. I immediately start seeing people I have met and, ever the clown, breaking the silence, calling them out and engaging lighthearted conversation, why is everyone so serious? Troy (Aus) flies past me, having known him online for almost three years now, I figure thats the last time I'll see him all day, Chris (Ger) comes up beside me and politely excuses himself as he sets his headphones and gameface on. I then spent most of the climb with Kaci (USA) and Simone (Aus) as very slowly the pack thinned out, before we hit the summit we would be jamming single file and prepared to shuffle down the single-track on the other side. Being mindful of the vistas of grand mountains and lake Tahoe in the distance I kept a consistent climb to meet the party at the top, with crowds and music I was sure to throw some shapes for the cameras with the rising sun shedding it's golden light on the day ahead.
Then it was on, once you hit that summit the gears shift, it's not a heavy descent but after the best part of an hour climbing, legs are eager to start running. What was mostly broad firetrail has now squarely set in on winding single trail overlooking valleys of pine forests and the occasional snow drift. Runners quickly set into race mode looking for lines and opportunities to pass or calling back of they feel you close behind with an urge to move through. I'm aiming to keep it easy and enjoy, although these are very runnable, fun trails. We cross some small remnants of snow and the first hints of wet feet with streams of the melt crossing the trail or coming directly down the trail, what would soon become a theme for the day.
Lyon Ridge is the first aid station the emerges from the wood at 10.3 miles or about 16.5k, looking back that was two and a half hours but it went by in the blink of an eye. I refilled my bottle and ate my way up the snack table grabbing biscuits, m&m's and fruit…wait, what was I here for? Volunteers call your number as you enter and again as you leave the aid station and off I went up the hill but caught the aid station captain at the last minute, someone I had met recently. It's always amazing finding a familiar face in these long events and this turned out to be particularly fortuitous. In my buffet excitement, I had failed to turn around and had completely missed the ice station, it was not yet hot but the plan was to ice early and ice a lot! He asked if I had grabbed ice and then ushered me back into the aid station, technically not something you are supposed to do once you have already cleared the checkpoint. He waved off the other volunteers concerns and I packed ice into my sleeves, running pack and a sock which I wore inserted into my neck gaiter. Now I was ready to continue, back to the climb.
More spectacular scenery lay before me with rocky climbs and dusty descents, playing leap frog with different runners or playing follow the leader in endless single file conga lines down switchbacks and passing the occasional photographer. The camera is always a fun part of an event, having some quick passing banter and playing up for the camera with a strong man pose or tongue out and throwing the horns.
Then before I knew it I was descending upon red star ridge and their forward volly was asking if I had a drop bag, an internal smile but an outwardly polite response in the negative I really felt it would be strange to have a drop bag so early in the game. Again I refilled my bottle, a sip of ginger ale, grabbed some snacks and gels and kept moving. I had already fine tuned, where they had standard thick GU gels I opted for the more watery version I had never tried before. They went down easy and I chose not to even wrestle with the thick, sticky texture or the regular offering.
Over the next twenty or thirty miles I would come in and out of range of Simone (Aus) who had helped me out with my bags a couple of days earlier and subsequently had us right place right time to meet Camille (USA). It was this section where I started to notice the length and grade of the descents. At first I questioned myself getting caught up in the conga line and having my speed dictated to me but I soon realised that you aren't able to take the descents easy, there is only two ways, you run the hills or brake the hills, either way your quads need to be primed. The aid stations are close but that terrain will catch you if you're sleeping. Then before I knew it, I had hit Duncan canyon, the last time I would see Kaci (USA) as she was shuffled away by crew. I packed ice, sunscreen, downed some decent food and from here it's a straight drop out of the aid station then into some long winding switchbacks where it really starts to heat up and you find some real creeks flowing across the trails.
The heat is often talked about at western states and this year was no different, however this didn't factor too much outside of my initial concerns. I don't know if it's the Australian connection, the 40 degree steamed up showers and baths I held every chance I got in the lead up or the kilo of ice I was carrying around at any given time during the event but at no point did I feel like the heat was irrepressible or that it was hampering my performance. I still made sure to splash myself in those streams when convenient. This next section did make me aware of my half hour of sleep the night before, everything else felt good I just had a little fade and wished for a little more sleep. Still too early for caffeine, hopefully it's just a phase…
I caught Chris (Ger) somewhere at the bottom of the canyon with a brief pass, I gave him a hoy but wasn't too sure how he was travelling. A lot of this section you are snaking into or out of canyons with pretty steep drops to your feet, at one point I waved another runner past, he caught a rock and almost went sailing down the side, luckily the damage was little more than pride and a face full of dirt. Back at the top the toll of the event was starting to show as I checked in with other runners who were largely silent, sometimes others must hate me when theyre in that pain cave and I'm asking how their event is going. I came across an American holding two hand helds in walk mode who said he had been throwing up and just outside an aid station Troy (Aus) came up behind me for a chat. I told him I hadn't expected to see him again and he said that he had to sit for half an hour as he was couldn't see or talk properly, I then watched him disappear in the distance.
Another party aid station came with crowds of people, music and fun, seeing a fresh tub of squirrels I dig my fingers in and must used at least half the jar between my legs and cheeks, that's like fifteen bucks back home! The ks seemed to roll over and I got a strong sense of the truly international flavour of the event exchanging conversation with Spaniards, french, Mexicans, Italians and more as I approached another canyon with a Mexican who seemed on the brink of pulling the pin. Keeping an eye on the time, I was well on track for that sub 24 hour and although those downhills were putting expected (but not well trained for) stress on, everything else was moving well.
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incarnateirony · 12 days
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She really did think I was still like her, didn't she.
She thought she could harass, stalk, DM warfare, me for years, because I let her do that to me for years while she and hers stalked my blog literally to hunt for how they could do social damage to me, like I let her mistreat me for years before, and she expected I'd just keep my head down and get chased out of ANOTHER space she wants me deleted from, and it wasn't even a space she goes to, but invested half a year of her life to try to break into just for this.
She doesn't know what to do, does she. She expected me to fall into patent lawsuits, to let her delusional roleplay keep on keeping on. Now I'm here like, no, fuck all of you, I am that I am, if you guys can't handle my internal life without you guys having a psych break that is YOUR problem, she's talking Belief, I'm talking lived Reality, and she thinks she can argue whine her way out of it.
So when I didn't bite her bullshit lawsuit bait like I called from jump her trying, within a few weeks she was trying to file the suit herself, because that's the only game her pretty princess ass knows. And since there's no grounds as an independent suit she tried to make it emergent attached to an ex parte, even though I done TOLD her, it's not coming to her door or whatever, it's already there, I need to be NOWHERE near her for this, and Death in paganism if you aren't a literal toddler is not in fact promised hard casket, which I've always said.
But the person freaking out on her end is no longer a person. It has become the monster that needs destroyed, in totality, and she is afraid now, because she knows this. Shealyn as I knew her is gone. There's just some bloated deep sea dweller trying to vampirize the life from me that has replaced her. Of course it doesn't want her to find her own inner divinity instead of its shadows that has her unspooling and ripping out her hair. Of course I want that thing dead. And I have the right to defend myself, girl.
Seriously let's be real, the only reason Mark is even enabling her is to protect himself from his own culpability in this clown show, because the second either of them crack and admit things are a little fucky wucky, their entire world of lies and pandering shatters, so Mark's gonna keep using her and encouraging this bullshit too. Lmao that man never loved you girl. He'd have dragged you to the shrink at the octopus jibberish to make you unpack it once that came out. He's using you, like you use him, like you used me. That's all you know.
But throw papers all you want. It's not gonna fix what's been rightfully broken in you and we both know that. You know the truth by now. You knew it before you even cracked and deleted your blog and 'words of war'. You know you have in fact been dumped, you know that you have in fact pissed off the person you're obsessed with both physical and astral memetic legacy, you know that you being processed out is just a side commentary on a much larger movement of brothers for far more important things, you realize your toys are empty, your practice is false, and Coyote hates you, and it's your fault, and it's always been me. And your world is a lie and you are both unwilling and unable to face yourself and do the work needed to go back and make it right again. And I would have left you be in your Barbie Dreamhouse and kept myself locked down to avoid you, but you could not control yourself, even after 3 years, and now you're here.
Try to ex parte your way through that, bitch.
Still waiting on you to have the brain to start deleting or throwing away things that give me power over you but you're just hoping to cry this one out, and run away again, and it won't work. I told you at the start. We all knew you too well.
Can't copy and paste, hun. Well you can, but it doesn't work right, and literally just makes you my bound bitch. But hey, Hermes always was kind of a dick, right?
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It is LITERALLY not my fault you set yourself up for embarrassments this deep, lemonbutter lobster girl. The only person that threw out and picked a fight with everything they ever wanted over lemon hysteria is you. At least after you threw it out you could have been ignorant and maintained your octopus jibberish theater, but no, you had to be an obsessed stalker until we're setting you straight, cocaine bear.
Getting away from you was the best thing I could have ever done for myself, as evidenced. Stop chasing your way back in out of rage, grief, and regret. You cannot DM war you cannot lawsuit you cannot harass summon or stalk man or god back into your life. You already made your choice, now it's time for you to understand why you made that choice, and if it was worth it.
badger badger badger badger get off my mushroom mushroom snaaaaake it's a snakeeee okay.
No seriously Shealyn, read my blog over again, but slowly. Imagine a world where Coyote's sitting here staring at an insane ex ten years post retirement, guitar hung up, and it's not being written like a novel sanitizing speech and form to idealize, because it's him and it's raw and it's real. And MAN his stint in Alabama won't leave him be. It's been 3 years, Crystal. And you've become a crazy bald cat lady with a house full of caged birds. Coy tried to help you, even when you were hurting him, and you still kept on. So now, it's Jack's pacifist rebellion, and you're not doing so hot. Also daddy Ash and uncle Set showed up or whatever. And now yugioh is about to blackscreen you for being a dick to the serpentious service manager and starting a kung pow penis chain in his notes.
The morals of this? Funny story, never underestimate the nuts on your small dog. Funny story, even ones you bring home to protect you. Funny story, only road like this in town. You took the San Bernadino Cucumber Latch Road shortcut again. What even is this cocaine bear rug movie? Gold mine of a quote. Listen lady I know you have a Reputation to keep but you can't keep slipping on yourself and falling on my fine ass sorcerous dick and blaming me.
Turn them gears in your head for a bit, then get back to me.
But who are we kidding? You can't even confess your own lemon meltdown, you tried to pretend that didn't happen until you got slapped with the logs. How then will you confess your entire life is FUCKED?
I will no longer be a target for your abuse and obsession because you can't stand YOURSELF and what your hollow and roof-to-carpet performative life has become. This is it. The Ultimate Boundary. Ever read mythos about judgments? Wrath? Cuz like, congratulations, you're the lucky winner of being one of the only modern people to manage to get fucking smote.
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Meme Culture in 40K
The Guard: regular shitposting. Often about eccentric characters of the "I knew that guy back in..." variant. Everyone knows the guy who shot his nuts off with a modded lasgun. Names change, often there is no official record, but everyone says they knew the guy. Also a lot of shitposting about certain commisars that is just vague enough to not get them shot on the spot.
Strapping your lasgun to your body so it looks like you are shooting with your dick is an evergreen joke that has not died down for centuries.
Space Marines: in its thematic combat and training focussed for obvious reasons, but utterly incomprehensible to outsiders. Some of the in-jokes and references date back centuries and sometimes puns include several generations of lingual drift to make sense. The events referenced might already be entriely gone from living mortal memory. One of their favourites is "funny mortals I met during a mission"-stories that they swap. Guard officers who just don't give a shit. Civillians who tried their best to "help". Sometimes just humans who just were not intimidated and treated them like any other person, which is very unusual for them. Some people have become meme-characters in their own right by now, even if they have been dead for centuries.
The Inquisition/Officio Assassinorum: No Fun Allowed. If you feel a fun-neuron in your brain firing off report to your superior for mental reconditioning.
Sisters of Battle: Officially also no fun allowed, but when they know no one's looking there is SO much religious shitposting. Sometimes it is bordeline blasphemy, but they usually stop before it goes full heresy. Fire jokes are always in style, and as with any zealot group there are also sub-groups that have their own eccentricities, and oh do they love roasting each other.
Grey Knights: Overly serious and will never be caught making a joke in public. Internally there is a lot of "I punched a Slaanesh demon its dicks with a powerfist once" jokes.
Custodes: Space Marines but x10 worse. Imagine memes that reference minor events in the unification wars. They are essentially a very small club of isolated weirdoes.
Knights: Very dependant on the household, but expect a lot of references to obscure family history. Also every now and so often someone takes a knight arm weapon and makes it look like its firing from where the mecha's genitals would be. That joke is just a human constant by now.
Adeptus Mechanicus: Madness. Utter madness. Their entire binary language is a mess of references and memes piled onto each other, combined with code and mathematical concepts pressed into linguistics. Within all that incomprehensibleness it is almost absurd that "I replaced my dick with a neutron laser" is still an evergreen joke.
Tyrannids: the Overmind is pretty sure that a "meme" was something it ate last week.
Genestealer Cults: they literally just post propaganda. They are genetically conditioned to only find that funny. Quite sad when you think about it.
Demons: are memes. Literally. Chaos is a memetic danger. The trouble is just that they are sentient with their own agency. They definetly have a preference for things that get people killed, such as weird challenges and so on.
Orks: Stories. So many stories about warbosses and the like. Half of them don't make any sense but as long enough Orks agree they do... well... you know the drill.
Craftworld Eldar: Very sensible humor, nothing too exciting. Quite polite. Often with a very melanchonic and depressive undertone. Looking at craftworld memes for too long as been cited as a cause for clinical depression.
Dark Eldar: a weird mirror-universe scenario: if you want to be really punk and edgy in their society, you post on "wholesome memes boards".
Harlequins: Shitposters Surpreme, Clown God and all. However a bit too self-referencial so it gets boring quite fast.
Exodite Eldar: every now and so often someone straps a laser gun to a dinosaur to make it look like it fires with a place where on a mammal there would be genitals.
Necrons: a bunch of royality who literally has nothing left but weird hobbies and shitposting. 90% of memes is someone roasting someone else, somtimes in a very roundabout way. Leads to multi-system civil war sometimes, especially when grudges are held for millenia. Often utterly incomprehensible to outsiders.
T'au: masters of the optimistic meme, also loves throwing shade on Imperial living conditions. Their favourite sort of comedy enjoyed by T'au and auxilliary races alike is essentially auxilliary races or very eccentric T'au driving the Ethereals insane with actions of the "they are a bit confused but they got the spirit" category - the characters definetly do their best for the Greater Good, but in entriely diferent ways the Ethereals would have wanted or planned them to act.
Every now and so often, someone submits blueprints for a battlesuit or Stormsurge that has its massive cannon in a rather peculiar spot. The recent increase of such submissions has been blamed on the humans.
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attemptinghaikyuu · 3 years
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Joking About Dating A Friend But They Take You Seriously
A/n: woohoo, we’re doing another one babbyyy! I’ll never get tired of these sorts of situations honestly <3
G/n reader
Team Captains (most of them~)
Kuroo Tetsurou
He was walking behind you, about to tap your shoulder, witty conversation starter at the tip of his tongue one he totally hadn’t prepared a day beforehand, only to be hit with you saying “Wow, look at you! A fantastic boyfriend i have indeed.”
Reals back, all thoughts flying out of his head
All internal excitement dissipates as panic and dread take its place
You had introduced Kuroo to the guy you were calling your boyfriend, saying you were only friends and yet…
How come he didn’t know? Him and you were close to each other, right? Had he been so deep into your smiles and pretty eyes that he had misread everything? Maybe he had made up the little signs that meant you felt the same
It was probably his feelings making him a lovesick fool
That thought stuck with him the most because that made him pretty delusional if he got everything this mixed up
He has so many questions rattling in his brain, pinning him down, that he doesn’t realize you’ve turned around and are staring at him
It takes your hand waving back and forth in front of him to startle him out of his trance
His panic doubles, voice strained
“Ahh, hey there kitten. What’s new?”
It’s missing his usual excitement and he sounds strangled, you notice right away that he’s also turned away from you
“Tets are you all good? Are you sick, I could get you some medicine if you aren’t feeling well?”
“What no, I’m not- you don’t have to do any of that, I’m better than I could ever be.” He chuckles and he knows he’s not being convincing in the slightest
“Huh, I’ll get the truth out of you in a sec, I’m gonna say bye to my friend and then we can go, okay?”
“Don’t you mean boyfriend.” It comes out before he can stop himself
The bitter tone is so obvious he’s tempted to bolt, maybe start over as a circus clown
He’s positive he could pull that wig off
Your voice is laced with laughter when you ask if he really does need to go see a doctor
“And what boyfriend?” You pause, smile growing. “Are you talking about yourself or what?”
Now he’s flustered and confused. It’s not like you didn’t talk like that with him but you had a boyfriend now didn’t you or was that..?
“WAIT EARLIER YOU-
He takes a deep breath, he could be wrong, he needs to stay calm
“We’re, we’re you just kidding around when you said your friend was, well ya know?”
You laugh again and explain, slightly embarrassed by the mishap, that yes you were kidding around
He feels all of his confidence come back and asks the question that leads to you two finally dating
“If that’s the case and the spot really isn’t taken, how about I become your boyfriend?”
Bokuto Koutaro
He. Is. Crushed.
Everyone around him can feel the tense atmosphere and looking at his face is like a punch to the gut with his heartbroken eyes, he’s staring at you like you’ve died instead of said you loved your girlfriend
All bokuto had wanted was to give you a quick hug before he headed off to practice
Instead he has to deal with the weight of knowing you’re with someone else, that and the realization that he needs to put away his own feelings so he doesn’t ruin your relationship with the person you love
He had known he liked you for quite awhile, it was hard figuring out a time he should confess or whether that would make you uncomfortable
He’s glad he never tried anything since it saved him from the possibility of making things hard for you, seeing as how you would’ve had to let your friend down
Bokuto looks at you closely, there’s a grin on your face as you stare at her and if you’re happy then he can live with this
That’s what he firmly thinks
And so pulling himself up with a smile, he walks over to you with a solidly convincing amount of energy
He talks excitedly and almost exactly like he would normally
What he’s saying doesn’t sit right with you though
His words are depressing and he looks like he’s forcing himself to talk like this
You stop him in the middle of a joke, that wasn’t all that funny with the sad way it was being told, and ask if he’s okay
His smile gets even bigger, and now you can see it’s clearly fake as he gives you some excuse about training being harder on him lately
You decide to wait and give him a little space, you assume he’ll walk off to volleyball practice, and later you’ll be able to talk with him about whatever’s going on
When he keeps talking and it becomes clear he’s not moving, stalling for time, you ask if you can talk alone with him
“Bo, is um, did something happen? You’re upset aren’t you?” You question him cautiously
“Nope! I’m just glad I get to talk with you, it’s not something I’ll be able to do as often since you have to spend time with your girlfriend and all!”
His smile finally slips as what he said hits you both
You’re quick in explaining the mistake now that you know what’s eating away at him
He can’t believe his luck when he hears you say it was just a joke, it’s too good to be true
But he doesn’t care, he’s just happy
Doesn’t even let himself process it all before he’s asking you to please, think about dating him
You’re both glad his smile is back to normal when you say you’d love to
Kita Shinsuke
Keeps it together like the seemingly impassive and parent friend that he is
Hurts so much more then he wants to admit
Doesn’t want to believe what he just heard but if you say that you have a partner, than those are the facts and he can’t change anything
But shit, does he wish he could
He’s standing right next to you, a step away and if he took it you would be pressed against his side
That’s an impossible reality, a fantasy he needs to put to rest now that he knows your feelings for someone else
That step however, is ungraciously closed when you trip backward from what appears to be your partner moving their foot as you had moved forward, resulting in you falling onto Kita
Instantly flustered by it and is feeling so betrayed by his body when he automatically puts an arm around you to keep you upright
He tries to be respectful as he removes himself from your side, it isn’t right for him to be that close to you, he’ll just have to push down the disappointment he feels from the lack of contact
“Kita-kun! I’m really sorry about that, my friend” you give a pointed glare towards the person of your affection. “accidentally knocked me into you.”
He gives a small smile at you, slightly unsure as to why you would address your partner as just your friend
If he’s being truthful, he doesn’t want to think about it anymore and that’s why he allows himself to shrug off the strange event
He acts like he always does in the next couple days, though the aggressive lilt in his voice that appears at any mistake he spots, gives away his frustration
His feelings are boiling over the surface and he realizes he needs to find a way to get over this
The best way to do that, he concludes, is to tell you his feelings so he can take the rejection and move on
A resolution that he puts into motion the next time he’s with you
He does it simply and tries to make it as small and meaningless as possible
“Thanks for listening to this, I know it must be difficult to deal with.”
You’re speechless and Kita wishes this could be easier but he steels himself for what’s about to come next
“I- Kita, I know you’re not and I apologize in advance, but are you a dumbass?” You’re expression is both mortified and happy and he really doesn’t know what’s happening
“I like you. I was messing around with my friend and I promise you, I will never be doing that again.”
Oh, Kita is so relieved and the first thing he does when you become official is pull you in for a hug
And he’s gonna keep pulling you in for hugs :3
Ushijima Wakatoshi
His surprise is on full display and he ends up staring at you so intensely you automatically come up to ask him what was wrong
Isn’t sure how to put into words how he feels at the moment
You are your own person, so he shouldn’t feel any right to being the one to call you his partner
Yet he can’t stop the disappointment from filling every part of him
Ushijima wants to be mature about this though, If you think that girl is good enough for you then he will live with the heartache
So he shakes his head and comes up with a small excuse for his behavior
He seems normal to most in the following week, quite and stoic, more silent around you than he’s probably ever been but nothing really out of place per say
However his annoyance with your girlfriend only grows when he sees that you are not being treated how most would in a romantic relationship
He’s had enough when he hears her tell you about this pretty girl she saw the other day
She’s all casual and smiles when she says it too
Walks over, taps your shoulder, and asks if you can talk in private
It wasn’t right and he was 100% calm when he explained why he thought you weren’t being treated right
And he definitely wasn’t a little jealous and using the way your girlfriend was acting as a way to see if he could prove he could treat you better
Okay, so maybe he wasn’t being completely rational when he was making his points as to why you should maybe, just possibly reconsider the whole dating your girlfriend thing
But the fact that she hadn’t held your hand was very important and he needed you to know that
He needed you to know that you shouldn’t have to listen to the one you cared for like that, speak of another person they found good looking, especially when the most attractive one was you
Ushijima doesn’t know how to take your silence when he finishes, and you seem… embarrassed?
Had he gone too far? Over stepped a boundary in his jealousy?
He was considering an apology for his rash behavior when you spoke up, though it was more appropriate to call it spoke down with the way you had your head lowered and voice quiet
“Toshi, did you mean all that?”
He’s not sure where this is going, he responds honestly regardless
“Yes, I meant it and I’m sorry if I insulted you.” He doesn’t apologize for insulting your girlfriend tho~
“Then you should probably know that I was only playing around when I said I was dating my friend. We’re not together.” You finally look into his eyes. “I’m pretty single and uh, if you really wanna help me in my dating problems you could date me, that’d fix them all.”
The slightest blush appears on his cheeks and when he reply’s with his yes, it’s almost like a happy sigh
He makes sure to show you how much he loves you everyday, he’s also still slightly bitter around your friend <3
Terushima Yuuji
Freaking out
He is having a hardcore internal screaming sesh
Walks away from you so he can pretend he didn’t just hear that
Also wants to make sure you don’t see him panicking
He finds a place where he’s alone, a field outside the gym he had been in, that is till he’d heard you talk to your boyfriend
Who was apparently, very entertaining if the way you had been laughing was any indication
Stands there, blank for a few seconds
Is so set on not crying over something like this because he knows that you’re amazing and shouldn’t be so surprised over you dating some other dude
He should go back inside and act like he always does, or maybe not since you are with your boyfriend
He’s being stupid, acting this overworked
It’s what he tells himself but he can feel a couple tears slip down his cheeks and there’s a sob bubbling up in his chest against his will
This didn’t feel fair
He wants to do something, he just doesn’t know what
Pretending he’s fine would be a good option if he could stop crying
It’s not looking feasible at the moment however
Takes a shaky breath and is coming to the decision he should leave you alone for now when he hears his name
Someone’s calling him, someone who absolutely cannot see him right now
He starts sprinting, but the thing about crying is that it’s pretty exhausting and before he knows it he’s gasping for breath, too slow to move out of your reach
“Terushima! Why would you-
You stare at his tear stained face, concern pulling your features into a deep frown and he desperately wishes he wasn’t the cause of it
“Hey, what’s wrong?” You ask the question softly, making it all hurt a little more
His eyes are closed when he replies. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty head with.”
“Whatever it is I won’t judge and if you want advice or someone to just listen I’m listening.”
“You, it’s really not..” he breaks. “Are you really with that guy?”
It’s none of his business, why’d he have to ask that?
Understanding lights up your face, and with the new information having connected the dots you move closer to him
“I’m not. He and I were joking, so please don’t cry.” He feels a hand wipe a stray tear from his face
“Would you maybe wanna go out sometime,” you laugh a little. “I hope I didn’t completely misread this, if I did I suppose we’d be matching.. and I wouldn’t mind so much if that was the case.”
He answers by grabbing your hand.
“That answer shouldn’t have been so cute, I’ll forgive you by taking you up on that date though.”
329 notes · View notes
spikesbimbo · 3 years
Text
Drunk in Love
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Summary:  Getting drunk and confessing your love for your “boy” friend and fucking him was most definitely not what you expected to go down on the usual night.
Pairing: Issei Matusukawa x Reader
Tags: Timeskip!Tattoed Mattsun, softdom!issei Hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, smut, fluff, virgin!reader, Unptrotected sex, non-penetrative sex, fingering, oral, pussy/thigh job, clit slapping, sweet dirty talk, praise, drunk sex
Word count: 7.2k
A/N: I heard pussy job and I wrote a whole ass novel
18+ Minors DNI
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You run your finger over the condensation of your empty drink, drawing shapes (or what you thought to be shapes, you couldn’t tell at this point) waiting for your dear friend, Makki to bring you a refill of your cocktail.  
“Here ya go.” Makki said as he returned with your beloved Malibu Sunset. The smooth coconut rum bringing you back to your first and favorite drink that you ever got drunk on in high school. You smiling at the memory
“Thanks.” you say. Your reply being mumbled by the liquid already in your mouth.
This all started with Iwaizumi calling Mattsun up, you and Makki hearing “You wanna get wasted?” on the other side of the phone. And with pleasure, you two were already packing your stuff up, shoving yalls “pregame” bottles back in the bag. The three of you made your happy way there climbing through the fence of the abandoned skate park you were in. Needles to say it was abandoned for a reason, but what’s life without a little danger.
You three and the rest of the third years have been friends since high school, meeting in freshman year, and now including Oikawa’s girlfriend. You actually didn’t like Oikawa at first, his “pretty boy” demeanor making you internally cringe. But his personality grew quickly on you, being the perfect target to tease you and Iwa clowning him over everything.
Now back to you on your nth drink, complaining about your previous job that fired you because u got injured, even though you know you wouldn’t have lasted long there anyways because you weren’t that academically inclined. Bright? Whatever you wanted to call it.
And as-usual it wasn’t long before your crybaby ass immediately called Makki and Issei and “tried” your best to tell them what happed with your dramatic self-induced tears running down you race, while Makki urged to you to try to calm down and Issei straight up laughing at the state your were in, snot running out of your nose. You recoiling at the thought, hoping they forgot. (Spoiler, they didn’t)
But now you nanny for a rich couple and you get payed good to play with cute babies all day, sounds good to you! Luckily, you had the week off due to them going on a vacation, you think it was France, no, the south of France. Must be nice.
Cue to now, Mattsun chuckling and leaning on you and Iwaizumi; both of you, especially Iwa, being visibly done with his shit. Him reminding you about the times you bought him some random shit, which you went out of your way for since he always payed for you, like that chopper keychain because you said it reminder you of him.
He didn’t know what compelled you to say his 6’2, tattooed built self looked like a tiny reindeer but okay. It still meant a lot to him, hooking it onto his motorcycle keys. But you knew he appreciated it, despite his appearance he’s a softie.
“You wanna try this’” He says gaining his composure offering you one of the shots he got.
You took one of the mini glasses, not being the type to back down and promptly swung the drink to the back of your mouth, quickly coughing before it even reached your throat.
“This shit is fucking gross.” You coughed out bringing the glass down from your lips.
  “Imagine being sober. Can’t relate.” He said taking another shot.
  “I guess I should do that but ive passed the point of giving a fuck” You said sending yall into a giggling fit while somehow Makki was thrown in to support yall from falling over. You two carry on laughing ignoring everyone’s stares at you thinking about how much yall fit perfectly together.  
   Makki rearranges himself to sit back in his chair, far away, from the both of you, whispering “Damn. I’m really third wheeling.” under his breath. Getting a snicker out of Oikawa sitting next to him.
   “When your best friends are ignoring you. Sad times.” He continues bringing his bottle to his mouth getting no response.
  Issei chuckles and gets up shoving his hands in his pocket reaching for the cigarettes. Pulling them out while failing to find his lighter
  “Fuck.” He muttered
  “Any’all got a light?”
  No one responds so you sacrifice yourself “Yeah” you say reaching into your pocket grabbing out your prized possession of a hot pink, bedazzled lighter that you did yourself, reaching out to hand it to him.
  “Don’t lose it” you stated seriously trying not to break a smile.
  “K’ sweet cheeks.” He said smirking into the butt between his lips as he walked away. Your face now burning up, hoping that everyone would think it was because of the alcohol.
  You mind wanders, thinking about the “dates” you two go on, from watching shows you “forcing” him to watch some romantic anime, to going to the skatepark, to playing video games with the rest of the 3rd years (which you don’t really like but you’ll play for him) and him surprising you with takeout, you bringing out candles trying your best to make it cute with him telling u everything you everything about his day.
  And you always tried to remain calm, even though sometimes he deserved to get his ass beat, like that one time he broke one of your favorite pair of heels. It honestly hurt him even more, he wanted you to get mad at him but no, you just acted like nothing happened. Making the guilt rise in him. Let’s just say didn’t have to lift a finger for the next few weeks.
You basically babied him, taking care of all his “chores”, mainly making him food when you were at his place knowing he hated doing it. Makki teasing you for acting like his housewife, leading to you slapping the shit outta him while trying to cover your now red cheeks.
You’ve never been so grateful for your attire at the moment, blessing yourself for not wearing your usual outfits of short skirts and cute tops, defending yourself saying what housewife dresses in beat up vans and baggy clothes. You definitely not imaging yourself in that position for the rest of the day.
 You expressed that you just liked to take care of people, which was true. You always looked out for them, bringing an extra umbrella, to bringing cookies you made at 2 in the morning to school, always carrying band-aids (yes, the paw patrol ones you took from the kids you babysit).
You checked the time on your phone seeing it was late since the sun at last went down, your lock screen being your dogs to their complaint since they have a group photos of you all from high school as theirs. To which you replied “They’re my babies” getting a groan and huff out of them.
  Seeing the notifications of your group chat you grinned at the contact name you and Issei gave each other; yall jokingly call each other pet names, his contact being honeybun and yours being pumpkin, even including Makki in your contacts as pudding bc then it wasn’t weird, right? no.
  “What’re you smiling at y/n?” Oikawa cheekily asks teasing you. You turn to him giving him a dirty look, not having enough energy to deal him right now.
  “Don’t listen to his bullshit.” Oikawa’s girlfriend says. You’re thankful for her. She was always on your side, being the only other girl in your friend group. To be honest you just wanted her and you to hang out most of the time, but of course to your disapproval her boyfriend and his friends had to join in.
  “Fuck this. Fuck you. I’m sleeping.” You say getting up to her objection, the only thing on your mind wanting to retire for the night.
  “You sure you’ll be fine? Let us at least walk you home.” She said already grabbing her boyfriend’s arm.
  “Nah, im good. I live right down the road.” You try to say not slurring. The last thing you want is him teasing you even more, especially in this state, knowing you, you’d probably start crying at the slightest irritation when youre this drunk.
    You started to “walk” towards your house resting  your hand against the brick walls to not lose your balance, leading you to run into Issei. You stopped to watch him lean against the alley holding a cigarette between his index and middle finger.
  “I’m hiding like a bitch” He says noticing you, resting his weight against the wall.
 “Wanna be a bitch with me? He grinned  blowing out the smoke out with his words.
You didn’t reply, just walking over to him, just being around him made you feel warm.
"Fuck its windy.” He says trying to light a new cig.
“C’you make me a house?” He asks.
You go up and put your hands around his cigarette, this not being your first time. Your hands wrap a little tighter to prevent the wind from burning out his flame. He joins you with his free hand helping, finally getting his cig to light.
 “Thanks doll” He smirks.
“No problem princess.” You reply earning a laugh out of him.
He takes his first hit with his and your hands still wrapped around it. He gets an up-close look at your hands, noticing how tiny they were, seeing all the scars that he never noticed, making a mental note to ask you how you got them later.
His head gets close to yours for the first time in a while due to his height. You glance at his face, noticing his features seeing some stubble growing on his face.
“You ain’t shave?” You ask, never seeing it in the past, while he was moving back up, blowing the smoke away from you.
“What, you don’t like my majestic beard? “He jokes. Making you giggle almost losing your balance before catching yourself on the wall.
  “s’too much work.” He starts. “You wanna shave it for me?” he says slightly leaning towards you. Handing you back your lighter knowing you didn’t need him to carry it because your pants actually had pockets in them for once.
You let out a soft laugh not responding again. He catches on, you got quiet when you were tired and he made out that you were walking towards your house.
“You going home?” he asks already knowing the answer.
“Yeah.” You respond more than happy to have him walk you back, him already moving to walk next to you.
He walks you home, you two talking about random shit, both of you forgetting about your skateboards leaving Makki to deal with them. And even though you’re drunk as fuck you’re still in the right state of mind, carrying a normal conversation with him. But just because you’ve built a tolerance doesn’t mean you can do basic tasks, like walk correctly.
When he reaches your house, he types in the keycode, your first dogs birthday, being glad that you, him and Makki have each other’s memorized.
He leads you into you house setting you on the couch, petting your dogs that ran up to him.
“Mommy’s not feeling too good” He said giving them the affection they deserved.
“Yes I am.” You slurred getting them attention on you now.
He walked over to your counter putting on the playlist that you two made together on shuffle, High fashion being the first to play. You didn’t like when it was quiet because too many thoughts would run though your head. You were in no way sad, singing the lyrics while you were laughing barely being able to hold yourself up as proof.
Remembering you were tired, he takes you off the couch and borderline carries you to your room, , setting you on your plush blankets that you had so many of because it was warm and comfy.
 “Easy, there. Try to sit up.”He said, trying to ask you what draws your pj’s were in because he didn’t want to snoop around; neither of you being bothered that you were half naked, what’s the difference between panties and a bikini, he thought remembering the times you’ve been to the beach together.  
Well it was maybe the fact that you were clinging onto him because u stumbled into him and he was closest stable thing around and you wouldn’t let go because it was cold and you couldn’t stop shaking.
 He ignores his thoughts and grabs the shirt he got out figuring you don’t need to change your bra because you told him and Makki that it was normal to keep it on for a few days after they were in awe as you were explaining how expensive they were. You calling Oikawa’s girlfriend to prove your point as she immediately agreed with you…Sometimes you might have got a little too comfortable with them.
You hear the song in the background change to Love Songs, you humming along, “Hope you smile when you listen.”
You were still holding on to him, your boobs squeezing against him, him only being able to put a t-shirt on you, while you looked up at him with your red glossy eyes making him burn up.  
You fidget timidly with your face now in his chest while gripping his sweater. Trying to build up the little courage you had. He tilts your head up making you look at him, wondering what you were thinking about.
  You try to express yourself, but you can’t get the words out him having no idea what is going on in your head at the moment.
“It’s okay to be nervous sometimes. Tell me” He gently says reading your body language. He was intuitive, so there was no way you could hide your feelings from him.
But you knew you could trust him, him having full self-control, always staying collected and following through on what he said he’d do.  He went out of his way to avoid any friction coming between you two, him never raising his voice or starting an argument.
“We need to talk.” You started. “About something important.”
“Ok…What is it?” He questioned rubbing his hands on your back. You were so nervous, were you really about to say this? Confess your feelings that you’ve pushed to the back of your heart for so long?
“I… I l… I love your face. And the stuff in it. and around it.” You spoke, being surprised you did it stutter.
He stood there, hands stopped moving trying to process what you just said.
“Just you, in general…”  You finally confess trying to state three things at once barely getting your words out.
But he understood exactly what you meant, or maybe he was warping what you said to fit what he wanted.
  "I don’t even know when I started liking you, but this shit won't go away." You restated
  Nope. He clearly just heard you say that.
  He doesn’t understand what’s so different about today. Yall have been in this scenario multiple times taking care of each other, sometimes including another into the mix.  
You didn’t understand either. You just felt like the time was right, even though you know it wasn’t the best idea to confess while you were drunk off your ass.
But you couldn’t help it, your feelings overflowing, which you never until this day let get the best of you, being vulnerable and trusting is not your usual . Youve never even had a crush on anyone, him being to only in your whole life to make you blush.
  Who you been vibin' wit and why I can't make you mine?
  You should have seen the signs that you feel for him when he helped that lady that lives down the street from him set up her Christmas lights or when he first met your dog that wasn’t fond of men, but it instantly liked him. And you loved his selflessness it was something you admired and applauded.
  “y/n” He tries talking you down, making sure you weren’t just saying this because of alcohol, deep down knowing he felt the same, you always being in the back of his mind.
You were generous with your time too, always being there for him. You knew he was softer than he appeared, he was tender, sensitive and vulnerable. He tried his hardest to not get into situations where anyone would get hurt, like breakups, arguments, and so on.
Which is why he won’t make the first move. He pushes his feelings to the back of his head. He values your friendship more than anything, but he can see what develops. If love is meant to be, it will happen.
I told you I am down for the worse or the better. But I keep sticking to you cause them four stupid letters
    “You make me so happy. And I’ll always care about you. Okay? He says breaking the silence, trying to reassure you.  
  “You mean so much to me—something I can’t even put into words because nothing can compare- I’ve wanted you since that day you tripped and bust your ass in the school hallway I still want you even though you drive me insane.”
  “Iss-“ You tried to get out only to have him continue talking over you.
  "I love that you can’t leave the house without a jacket. I love the wrinkles that appear on your forehead after you call me crazy. I love that it takes you hours to get ready. I love that you always know how to make me feel better. I love that even when you don’t agree with my decisions you always trust me to make them.  I love that when I spend a day with you, I can still smell you on my clothes; and I love that you are the last person I think of  before I go to sleep at night."
  You stood there awestruck for what feels like eternity until you mustered the bravery to speak “I didn’t expect you to feel the same way-” You said, being dumbfounded because from what you’ve seen treats everyone “nice”, were you really getting special treatment?
  He tilts your chin up, locking his dark eyes with yours. “Baby I don’t know if your notice but you and Makki are my only people that aren’t my family that call me my first name.”
He has a point. You think pushing yourself more into him, trying to fuse your bodies together to hide, not relaxing what you were doing to him. He tries to nudge your legs to the side but you won’t let go still clinging onto him.
“fuck” He groans. You pulling back wondering why until you looked down and noticed. A smirk appeared on your face as you reattached your self to him like velcro. You were feeling bold, the liquid courage still in your system driving you to slide your fingers down his chest, looking him in the eyes before stopping at his waistband.  
He knows what you’re doing, him being in this position multiple times. Does he really want to ruin your friendship like this? He hasn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend. He tries to push you off him already knowing you were gonna complain. But what he didn’t expect was for you to whimper out his name in that pretty voice of yours.
 He tried to keep his calm, blood already rushing down. “You know what you’re doing”
“yeah” You start.
“y’don’t want me?” Giving him your pouty face that you know he’s weak for, hoping that’ll work, insecurity piling up. Was it because your boobs weren’t that big or that fact that you were dressed like man? Was he not attracted to you right now, only liking you when you were dolled up?
“Fuck” You think. You should have worn something cute instead of dressing like a whole ass man even with your makeup fully done. Its not like you were supposed to know you were gonna get fucked today.
His were burning holes into you now, thinking of how to say “No, I would be more that happy to fuck you!” to his best friend, soon regaining his consciousness finally speaking.
“Fuck no doll, ive wanted you for a minute. You know me better than I know myself. How did you not notice my feelings?”
 You got me singing love songs, love songs, love songs
“You’re really hard to read” You replied trying to maintain your seductive act, resting your hands back on his chest.
“So are you.” He said lowering his head, you still looking up at him, taking in your gleaming eyes.
Sex ain't the only thing that's on my mind But you get me so excited, whoa
Your heart was beating so wildly that you could only take little sips of breath. His hands running down your waist stopping at your hips.
“Can I kiss you?" He asks "...yeah” you attempted to say as confidently as you could, nodding your head along with it.
His face bent down, hot mouth breathing over you. His lips slowly moved, brushing over yours, the liquor on his lips that you hated; only choosing fruity drinks even though you got relentlessly teased you for it.  You pushed further into the kiss desperately wanting more. Your teeth clicking his from being impatient, wanting to suck him in. Your hands sliding under his shirt subconscious desires reaching out.
Irreplaceable Tattoos from your neck that drop down to your ankles
“You’re drunk…” he says snapping you out of your trance.
“So are you.”
He dove in for another kiss much more passionate than the previous one, arguably needy, pusing you on the bed to which you more than happily comply. He tugs back not letting his mind get the best of him, disconnecting your spit trial leaving you panting. “You sure this alright?” He says deep down hoping you still say yes.
  You pull him back for your answer, your grabby little hands working their way back up his shirt. He gets the hint and pauses your lips rendezvous, taking off the turtleneck that he looked oh so good in, before seeing his unclothed body.  You’re admiring his body in a new way, before just complimenting him whenever he got a new tattoo, now up under him tracing them like a lovestruck teenager.
“When did you get this one?” You quietly ask, his ears closer to you than they’ve ever been.
“I got it that day you faked sick”
“What! You said were gonna take me!” You sulked, turning your head away from his as much as you could, crossing your arms.
He let out a slight laugh before gently taking your face in his hands, guiding you back into the kiss.
This is not really what he imagined for your first time. He’s an old-fashioned romantic who likes to take one step at a time. But then again nothing was ever normal with you. That said, when he falls in love, he falls deep.
“You’ve done this before?” You uttered.
“Hmm?” He mumbles, unmoving his lips from you kissing you, moving towards your neck.
“You still with that other girl?”
“No. I broke it off her, everything that came out of her mouth was bullshit, and no she wasn’t my girlfriend.”
“You didn’t trust her? You added. Trying to distract him until you could think of a way you could say “hey in my 21 years of life I’ve never got passed kissing a guy.”
“Our relationship was purely built on lies, I’d second guess everything she said. He replied, wondering if you were interrogating him.
“Why’d you wanna know?” He asked bringing his face up from your skin.
“…No one’s ever touched me like this, fuck.” You bashfully admitted, thoughts racing through your head that he didn’t want you anymore because you weren’t experienced.
But he knew what was running through that pretty head of yours, his fingers reaching out to with your hair trying to comfort you.
“You’re a virgin?” He curiously asked dragging his hand to your cheek, you leaning into it.
“y-yeah” you muttered trying to move your eyes away from his looking down at his body.
“I thought you had a boyfriend before” he said, softly turning your jaw to make you look at him. Your eyes diverted from his arms back to his eyes.
“We weren’t actually dating” You quickly say trying to clear up the misunderstanding. “He was my friend and seatmate that pretended to be my fake boyfriend to get me out of some trouble” you spewed out “and I guess I forgot to tell everyone that it was fake.”
“Even if we were that doesn’t mean we fucked.” You sheepishly replied.
“So… what trouble did your fake boyfriend get you out of.” He questioned knowing how much trouble it must have been for you, miss independent, to go to such lengths.
“Umm, well…this guy wouldn’t stop flirting with me even after I told him I don’t like him, even following me to my other classes.”
He wasn’t surprised, you were definitely a sight for sore eyes, in fact the prettiest thing he’s laid his eyes on, your beaming eyes, your dimple when you smiled, your pretty face, your “ugly” laugh, he could go on for days.
“Why are we talking about this” You whined, reaching your hand back out to him.
He took a hint and continued kissing you, bringing you closer to him while you attempted to take you shirt off. His hands helping you seeing as that you were struggling, being lost in his touch, finishing by moving you up more on you bed, pushing your plushies out of the way, to your protested because “they had feelings too.”
He ignored you, bending down to pull your panties off stopping once he saw the slick coming through them.
“Fuck baby you’re wet” He breathed dragging his fingers across your clothed slit earing a whimper from you, leaving his fingers drenched.
 Shawty, you wanna feel good, I wanna feel good too Don't I make you feel good?
“M’always wet.” you responded.
From what? He questions taking off your soaked cotton panties, tossing them to the side.
“From me?” He smirks bringing his hand back towards your heat. You not even comprehending what he just said, just knowing that you’re ashamed of how worked up you were getting.
You were in awe. You’ve always known his hands were big, but in this situation your mind wondered. His fingers were so much bigger than yours knowing you can barely fit two inside your with out it hurting, and not in a good way.
“Do you know how pretty you are? It’s honestly distracting.”. He says kissing down your whole body, stopping at your breasts, licking lazily around and coming back to the nub. The attention on your nipples making you squirm and he finally lets go, you grateful that he stopped or you would have almost cum, how embarrassing.
“I thought you said were gonna get them pierced” He remembered, you going on a whole rant about how cute they were.
“You said u were gnna get em with me” You looked back on, reminding yourself making him promise to get them with you because you were too scared of the pain.
“That was the same day you played sick and I got that tattoo.” He stated lightening the mood, hoping you can calm yourself down before you actually embarrass yourself.
He picks back up and continues kissing all the way down your body, you playing with his hair while biting your lip to muffle your moans and whine until he reaches your entrance.
He parted your legs, your pussy laid out before him, believing you no have reason to be shy about it either. He paused, admiring your swollen cunt and puffy clit, you were beautiful.
The feeling that he didn't want anyone else ever in his position overtook him. He let out a little breath on your clit and you thrashed around. He wasn't going to play. “I’ll take care of you.”
His lips travel over your skin, light and heated before settling himself between your legs, grabbing you by your thighs and dragging you closer. “That tickles.” you giggle, nerves making you kick your legs, almost hitting him in the face before he grabs them. He puts them down locking your legs with his arms, lowering himself until he’s on the ground facing you.
“Does it make you nervous when I stare?” he teases while your covering your face trying to hide the blush he caused.  He puts his mouth on you, quickly gripping your thighs, his hands leaving imprints in your skin dragging you even more into him, deprived kisses taking over your body. 
“yer so pretty” You purred seeing the sight of his big build between your legs, your fingers grabbing onto his curly dark locks, tugging them.
  Issei moans, his voice radiating through your body, forcing out a cry, blessing him with your pretty voice. “I-Issei!” You cry, never feeling like this before, your vibrator and hands doing it no justice.
“Shh, just look at me, doll.”
You can barely make out what he says, so drunk on pleasure. You try your best, doing anything to see the pretty man beneath you. But you get interrupted by your pleasure, your back arching not being able to control your body, grinding down to meet his lips, heat rising in you.
He kisses through your wetness playing with your bud. You choking on your spit, back arching again your body tensing up. “Issei,” You beg, grabbing him knowing what you want but not being able to express it. Luckily he can read you like an open book, knowing what you want, driving you over the edge as he makes you see stars. “Good girl,” he sighs when he feels you let go of his wrist letting him bring you your first orgasm.
“Look at your thighs shaking so much.” He teasingly cooed, wrapping his hands around them, bringing you out of your daze.
Shawty, your body is so exciting
Arching your back into the blankets, letting out a whine “Want your fingers.”.
He lets out a condescending laugh. “You need to learn to be patient. You just came and you’re already so eager for more?”
But by the time he finished your body went limp, you were totally weak, body loose-limbed and pliant. Your mind clouded by lust and deep in your own world. You gasped out a little sob, unable to comprehend anything beyond the discomfort and the need to have it gone. You can’t think straight all you can do is take action, grabbing his arm him easing his fingers into to you.
It’s not too tight, is it?” you ask clenching around his fingers.
 “Just relax… let yourself feel it” He says barely being able to move in you. Fuck so were so tight.
“I love the way you look with my fingers inside you.” He added starting to thrust them inside you, making you let out a string of moans.
“Look how good you take it.”  
“Fuck, you’re so messy.” He groaned feeling the slick running down his hands, before taking them out.
“Issei-i,” You cried when he pulled away, pleasure leaving you, tears coming back.
  He shushes you easily, his fingers wiping your tears. You were so precious to him, your moans music to his ears.  He slows down repositioning his fingers, making you let out a whimper squeezing around them. Your brains so crowded you can’t focus, can’t gather the strength to speak when he thrust them faster inside you.
  Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you fell back, fingers curling inside you, chanting his name over and over, incoherent words coming out of your mouth begging for more. 
You pussy tightens as you cum, unable to breath, letting out gasps and whines. Him still fucking you, fingers not stopping, pushing them in and out relentlessly feeling both pain and pleasure. You lay there, wet in your own cum not giving yourself a break before you went and got what you really wanted, his cock.
His eyes followed the movement of your hands as they pushed down his boxers, revealing the length of his cock, that jutted proudly from his hips. He was so pretty, so virile and handsome. Wondering how lucky you were to be in such a position with him.
You pushed away those thoughts and focused on him, pulling him forward gently, but he followed his encouragement. One of his hands tilted his cock down toward your lips. “Open your mouth for me, baby.”
You parted them instantly, tongue sliding slightly outward, and then you whimpered as the warm weight of his cock slid into your mouth. You let your eyes flutter closed and swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock not knowing exactly what you were doing, but it was working, tasting the salty tang of the precum that wept from his leaking slit. You moved your tongue as the he put his hand into your hair, gripping the strands and pushing deeper into his mouth.
“You look so good on your knees like that. “He says meeting your eyes once again, almost cumming from the picture below him.
“Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” He says slowing you down by grabbing your hair, making a pace that you follow.
“Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that.” Seeing that sinful look in your eyes with your redden swollen lips.
You moan feeling yourself drip down your thighs, getting even wetter giving him head. Trying to ease the discomfort by closing your legs, griding them together, trying to find some friction. Your ears hearing “That’s so fucking hot.” watching the scene unfold beneath him.
Your jaw hurts, trying got make him cum faster using your hands and lips together hollowing your cheeks. “Oh fuck, oh, Jesus, fuck yes, there, just like that, fucking Christ" he groans out, his voice sounded beautiful to your ears, knowing he was about to cum.
He finally lets go cumming in your mouth, you swallowing it all, trying not to wince at the taste. “Did I do good” You ask waiting for his reply. Your doll eyes, so red and worn out looking up at him for approval. Fuck he was whipped.
“Yeah…fuck baby”
I love when you get on top and you ride it
You get back under him, his cock resting on you, drenched and clenching around nothing, resting in your cum. You working yourself up against him.
“What makes you think I’m going to fuck you?” He says to your complaint.
“You’re not ready yet.” he mumbles against your whining. Spreading your legs, slapping your clit a few times before letting his cock rest on your folds. Finally getting “seated” he picks up your legs and puts them both on one of his shoulders your thighs warming his cock, your knees touching his cheek not moving, getting a kick out of how desperate your were for him.
“s-stop being mean” You cried reaching out for him to come closer, needing affection after all you’ve been though.
“Aww, poor baby, you want me to take care of it for you? He says leaning into you, reaching your kiss, tasting the remnants of the cum in your mouth.
He plundered your mouth and slowly teased his cock over your entrance, catching it against your clit and making you whimper into the kiss, clearly wanting to be fucked. Your kiss turned you sucking on Issei’s tongue and lips, biting the swollen pout until his lips were red and puffy. He pulled back and looked down at you, a beautiful mess under him.
His fat cock head pushed between your folds. The moan escaping both of your lips was primal. You were turned on beyond imagination and the way he was thrusting forward, spreading his leaking precum on your wet clit was almost too much. He quickly picked up his pace fucking your folds, his warm head brushing against your clit with every movement, but your greedy self wanted more.
The fact that he made you cum so easily made you proud. Just because you’ve never gone this far with someone else doesn’t mean you’ve never cum, you’ve had a lot of practice over the years, being insatiable, the sheets soaked underneath you from your previous orgasms being proof.
“Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby.” He moans getting your attention him.
You tried, you really tried, but the way he was stroking you, imagining what it’d be like to actually sit on his cock, the lewd sounds echoing in the background leaving you unable to focus.
He taps on your cheek eventually getting you look at him, keeping your mind on him by placing his fingers in your mouth you letting him, hazily sucking on them, not being able to close your mouth.
“Oh, baby, you’re drooling everywhere.” He grumbles. Your spit dripping onto his fingers, the friction of your thighs making him feral, moving at an even faster pace. Your body bouncing with every thrust.
“You gonna cum after I cum on your little clit? Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.” You sob feeling the puddle beneath you, time slowing, fire pooling in your tummy.  Listening to his words you let yourself go. You come with a silent scream as the pleasure ripped through your body, your nails scratching his soft skin. Your vison fading to black feeling him lose his rhythm and moaning a mixture of curse words along with your name, feeling him cum on your tummy before resting his head in your neck while letting your legs go.
“So good for me, look at how much you came.” He says breaking the static. You whining into his shoulder, emotions high, never doing this before.
“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.” He says. You two laying in silence for an unclear amount of time, him rubbing your back while you rest in his chest almost dozing off.
“Are we still…friends?” You croak out trying to hold back your sobs already knowing the answer that you two were defiantly not friends now and never would be just friends again.
“Friends don’t do this type of shit” He maintained grabbing your shoulders to sit you and him up. You were worried, did he only do this with you because he was drunk? You were anxious that you scared him away because you just poured your heart out to him and pushed yourself on him. You left your head down, tears already coming out to your dismay. You moved your hand up to wipe them but he beat you to it.
“Look at me… I love you.” He says holding your cheeks in his palm. You in awe, hoping that you weren’t imagining it, that this was real life.
“R-really” You question making him worry too, preferring to forgive and forget rather than letting this a divide between the two of you in case you went back on your feelings. You were so overwhelmed, never feeling love until this moment, so happy that the person you longed for liked you back. Yours tears running once again.
 “Shh, shh, it’s alright...Don’t cry.”
You don’t even know why you were crying, the hangover already getting to you making you get a headache. You groaning in his arms complaining that your head and throat hurt.
“Ill be back” he says detaching himself from you, letting you know he was coming right back.
He walks to your fridge opening it to see every drink but water, having too dig through all of them, especially the absurd amount of apple juice guessing it was your “once a year craving for it”. He finally got you some cold water, putting It in a cup and waked back to your room.
  “Issei” you whined not picking your head up from the pillow.
  “Shh baby im right here.”
  He sat down beside you on your bed lifting your head up. “Here drink this” he reassured, to which you ignored not wanting anything to go in your mouth, just wanting the day, or night as it was now, to end.
  “It’s just water, honey, look.” You sat yourself up with his help seeing him in just his boxers, you remembering your still naked, not caring enough to cover yourself. He held to glass to your mouth, babying you, tilting it far back enough to where you could drink it. The water hit the back of your mouth feeling like a shot making you cough.
“I know, it hurts. I’m sorry but we have to” He stated. You continued to drink it, feeling the stinging in the back of your throat, him comforting you, calling you “good girl” which was unsurprisingly working.
  He put the cup on your dresser when you finished, climbing back into bed with you leaning your body into his. “Have you ever thought about...us? Y’know, as an...item?” he said causing you to look at him with wide eyes.
 “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.” He insisted making you cheeks flush. You try to think of a way to respond, not wanting to keep him waiting.
“You’re the best thing that has, and ever will, happen to me. Not only am I deeply in love with you, you’re my best friend.” You stammer out, your shaky hands somehow made there way to his neck, letting them fall slowly before he grabs them dragging you in for a kiss before you got to even see his face.
“Everybody has always thought we’re a couple.” He continued taking his time kissing you all over your face. “Then I guess we should be.” You retort, kissing him back before you could see his reaction, not wanted to be embarrassed anymore today. But he caught you, holding you still “Really “y/n? Like deadass?” He asked.
  “Yes dummy, I want to be your girlfriend” You say causing him to grin swearing you’ve never seen him smile that big, before he gives you one last kiss.
  “I always kiss you on the cheek, why are you blushing now? He teases laying back down, you following along. You just snuggle into him mumbling something along the lines of “m’tired”, he understanding and speaking to you in a soft, gentle voice while helping you to bed, so he doesn’t make it harder for you to sleep by being loud. “I’m here love, I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers into your ear mkanig your heart swoon one last time before you pass out.
  “I l-love you issei.” You sleepily mumble.
“Tell me this when you’re sober.” He says stroking your head.
“Just relax, close your eyes...”He murmurs, your heart beating slower every second. Both of you together, lazy, slow presses. Limbs pressed together, chests heaving, fingers trailing down backs, tracing lazy patterns.
  “Oh!…” He remembers. “If you really wanna get them pierced, we could get matching ones.”
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heli0s-writes · 3 years
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“call me when you get home” (b.b)
@the-chocolate-bunny “call me when you get home” over a YEAR AGO. anyway, (incoherent screaming at myself) here it is,,, hahaha. 2.8k words of a lil fluffy first date with ol’ Bucko. 🧡🧡🧡 Thanks for reading!
[28 WAYS Masterlist // Prompts here & here]
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When Sam told him what he’d be doing on Saturday evening, Bucky groaned so loudly the couch vibrated.
Come on, man, you really giving up on dating?
He wanted to say yes, Wilson, fuck off. But Bucky only groaned again and reminded Sam that he’s not ready to date. Too busy. Too cranky. Scary robot arm. Last date went terrible and Bucky doesn’t even remember how to talk to a woman unless he’s trying to de-escalate a hostage situation.
Sam couldn’t be deterred. Dude, that was like, a year ago. Just try one time--Sharon’s friend, from work—remember her, Barnes? Steve, you know her. Pretty, funny, real sweet. She already agreed to it, she’s gonna meet you there at 7. Thank me later.
Bucky rummaged through his mind for pretty, funny, real sweet and came up empty. Steve pretended to remember—he didn’t—can’t remember anyone’s face but Sharon Carter’s, the lovestruck idiot—but if she was Sharon’s friend, then Bucky wasn’t allowed to stand her up. So, 7. Saturday. Date.
Fuck.
He’s sure he’s done all the right things: laundered his clothes, showered, brushed his hair, shaved, even.
Sam said to get flowers and hold the door. Make eye contact, share a dessert, pay for dinner, give the girl your jacket and be on the left side of the sidewalk. Follow the script and he’s home free and looking at another date in possibly a week or so— or if he’s lucky, Bucky scoffs internally, no date at all.
Perhaps he shouldn’t have showered.
Either way, he’s off to an awful start because the traffic was worse than anticipated and the taxi got a flat so and he had to walk the last five blocks. It’s 7:40 and he’s barely through the door, the box of chocolates in the crook of his elbow probably melted.
All the flowers looked ugly, Sam. It was either chocolates or a balloon and Bucky’s not It the Clown, so… chocolates it was for the lucky lady.
Bucky scans the room and groans— possibly his default sound for anything now. Leave it to Wilson to suggest this kind of restaurant—it’s all candles and floral centerpieces. There’s even a live orchestra in the corner. He’s severely underdressed.
The hostess taps her pen, “Sir, do you have a reservation?”
Oh. Shit.
He looks over her head, hopeful at a row of empty tables and booths. “Can’t I just, get put on a list or something? It’s two people. She might—already be here.” He surveys again, dodges the hostess trying to block his view, but can’t see anyone sitting alone.
Sam told him your hair color, described the little freckle above your eyebrow, something about your face being symmetrical and how sweet your smile was— but that could be anybody. People’s faces are naturally symmetrical, aren’t they? And Bucky certainly can’t make out a freckle from this distance.
“No sir, we’re booked all night—”
“Hey!” A hand unexpectedly lands on his arm. “Bucky! Oh my god. I’m so sorry I’m late.”
Bucky follows the hand to its wrist, to its arm, to its shoulder, collar, neck, finally, then, to its owner.
He remembers you now. A couple of times—dropping off packages at the compound, dossiers and flash drives, saying hello and goodbye but not much of anything else.
Your mouth hangs open tonight, sucking in deep breaths, baby hairs slick on your forehead. 7:45 and you’re off to an awful start, too.
“Tried to get a coffee on the way—spilled it—” a gesture to your blouse and the offending blotch glares deep brown from sky blue cotton. “Ran into a kid on a bicycle, made him fall. Scraped his knee. You wouldn’t believe how long a mother can yell until you accidentally tip over her kid--” You pause, looking at the hostess’ annoyance, then at Bucky’s bewildered face, and put two and two together.
“Ma’am, we’re booked all night.” The hostess’ pen taps after each word in emphasis.
You narrow your eyes and Bucky defensively reels back, expecting you might start yelling at him for forgetting to reserve ahead of time until you shake your head.
Sharon Carter is a Cotillion debutante and private nearly to a fault— she speaks carefully, keeps everything close to the vest, old-school formalities when it comes to courtship. So, when Sam said Sharon’s friend, Bucky expected someone similar. When he stepped into this extravagant restaurant severely underdressed, he expected someone similar.
Symmetrical faced, sweet smiled, freckled somewhere, but demure, maybe. Prim and proper.
But then—you groan, loud and annoyed, and ask:
“Do you like burgers? Do you mind the grease?”
And god, Bucky thinks. God bless Sharon Carter.
-
Hell, it’s a mess.
There are tears rolling down your cheeks. Bursts of gasping breaths, wheezing in-between shrill noises. The coffee stain on your shirt found a good friend in a diagonal line of bright yellow egg yolk and you’re laughing so hard people are starting to stare.
The burger you’d gotten—medium rare, double meat, bacon, fried egg, all toppings between—has completely fallen apart in a splat back onto your plate. The first bite was tragic—right into the yolk and it popped like a water balloon all over your chest.
He fumbles for napkins—for cold water? But you wave his worries away, licking your fingers before diving in to deconstruct your food.
“Sorry—I promise I have my shit together.” Another giggle, “Not making a very good first date impression. I hope you like the place, at least?”
“Yeah,” he grins, “I do. And, uh, I think you’re doin’ great.”
The words slip out before he can catch them and Sam’s slew of dating advice comes hitting him like a ton of too-late bricks. Keep it mysterious, Barnes. But what else should he say, he’s having loads more fun at this diner that smells like a thousand packs of stale cigarettes than he would have at that uppity potpourri scented Italian restaurant serving entrees the size of his thumb.
Around a mouthful of tater tots, you thank him, and then you take a breath, and he can literally see you winding up for another enormous bite.
“Sorry,” you pause sheepishly, “I had a really busy day at work—skipped lunch on accident.” You take the enormous bite he saw coming, and then, “Also doesn’t help—mm—I’m a nervous talker.”
Bucky chews on a fry and slurps his soda, entirely forgetting his courtship manners. “Nervous ‘bout what?”
“Aw, c’mon…” you roll your eyes emphatically as Bucky tilts into his straw. Another slow sip with his mouth around the plastic and you swallow a noisy gulp of tomato, “Come on.”
“What?”
The burger gets placed back on its wax paper, now small enough to return to its prior state, you rearrange it carefully on the plastic lattice bowl, staring at him the entire time.
A disbelieving scoff leads, “Imagine this, Sharon comes sashaying into my office—okay, not sashay, march—marching into my office and says are you interested in going on a date Friday?” You wiggle your head, tilt your head down and purse your lips staunchly. A pretend flip of hair over your shoulder and you whisper, “She’s perfect; this is what perfect women do, trust me.”
Bucky suppresses a grin at the sight. Steve would be jumping to defend her honor if he were here.
“She says, I know your last few weren’t the best… but this one-- And I’m drowning in paperwork, okay? Drowning. I’m stamping files, eating goldfish crackers, nodding along—anything to get her out of my office—”
“So you agreed…”
“Uh-huh.”
“…to go on a date…” he mulls it over, “… to shut her up?”
“Hell yes.” And then, “Oh!” You start shaking your head wildly, “No. No, no, no. No, not like that—I told you I’m a nervous talker—I didn’t know it was you until about fifteen minutes before I left the house! I would have never said yes if I knew it was you.”
Bucky frowns at that, but then you come full circle, rolling your eyes another time. A mustard-smudged hand points from the top of Bucky’s head down to his chest and back up again.
“Have I said ‘c’mon’ yet?”
“Once or twice.”
“Well, yeah. Come on. You’re—please don’t make me say it.”
He looks on, not quite sure what you’re going to say at all. It’s a toss-up between “a legend”, “an Avenger”, and “a murderer”. So it’s a pleasant surprise when you pop a French-fry into your mouth and mundanely announce, “Bucky, you’re handsome.”
He blinks.
You blink.
He blinks again.
“No, listen,” you urge, “You’re obscenely good-looking.”
His face is so hot that he thinks someone must have thrown a fire into him. Maybe he would have preferred being called a murderer?
“Is it some kind of superhero requirement, you know? Before you get green-lighted to save the world, you’ve gotta win America’s Next Top Model. Or in your case, an international season of ANTM takes … Soviet Russia?”
The reference is lost on him, but he gets the point well enough.
You place your hand in front of him like a running marquee, “I can see it now. Tyra Banks announcing, James Buchanan Bucky Barnes. Eyes: blue; hair: brown; height—” a pause as you consider his posture before continuing, shockingly precise.
“6 feet; 245 pounds; measurements: 42 chest, 33 waist; bicep circumference: 17 and a half inches.”
Bucky crosses his arms in embarrassment, and then uncrosses them because he’s thinking too closely about his biceps now. “Didn’t read that in a museum. You get it from just looking— look away, damn it.”
You quickly do, trying to suppress a grin and failing miserably. Bucky is too, shifting in his seat, opening his mouth to say something and then unable to get anything out other than a disoriented and amused, “Shit.”
Sam would never let Bucky live down that his first date in six months eyefucked him well enough to get his bicep measurement. The jokes would be endless. He can practically hear cackling in his ear.
A beat passes and he tries again, now at the end of the meal and the stain on your blouse starting to sink in and spread, heavy enough to dip toward the skin beneath. “Do you want to take your shirt off?”
You choke on soda and add another splatter down your chest, turning into a proper Jackson Pollock canvas.
“You can wear my jacket,” he clarifies. “Give it back next time. I mean, if you…” He frowns. “Uh. Um.”
Sam’s putting up tallies in Bucky’s head. Another scratch indicating he’s forgoing the mystery, which should have been easy for him since he’s an international assassin with at least one dead president under his belt.
“Of course, Bucky, I’d like that,” you say, saving him for tripping up over any more words, smiling slow and shaky. Different than the impish grins and all-teeth laughing, still lovely— but just, different. Like you’re pinching down a too-sweet thought about him with the corners of your mouth. It goes big and again when you tack on, “And I won’t even eyefuck you next time.”
It’s his turn to choke, sputtering as he blushes. 6 feet, 245 pounds, 17-inch circumference biceps, reformed murderer going napalm hot under a pretty girl’s eyes. Jesus wept, he really is hopeless.
-
He can’t believe it’s past midnight already, or that the two of you walked the length of Central Park and then looped back around about two more times.
You changed out of your shirt after dinner, ducking from the diner’s restroom bashfully, your old blouse in a crumple inside his pocket. His jacket hung a bit loose, but zipped up all the way and it was a good enough cover for a while.
The night cooled enough to where you weren’t too hot, and he wasn’t too cold, and neither of you seemed ready to leave just yet. Central Park was a perfect place to dodge the city’s unavoidable crowd and occasional sewage gust, so the two of you wandered aimlessly, stopping here and there to rest, even splitting the liquefied chocolates on a bench.
You get smudges of it on your cheek and Bucky figures it’s just a personality trait at this point. He laughs when you stick your tongue out, trying to find exactly where it is before giving up and asking him to thumb it off.
He shoves his hands in his pocket afterwards, thumb jammed inside his fist like a souvenir, keeping it there the rest of the walk, all the way up to the iron gate of your apartment complex before he wonders if he should have been trying to hold your hand instead.
Maybe not. It was only the first date, after all.
By the pin pad, you rock back and forth on your feet. “Thanks for dinner,” you say, looking up at him.
“Yeah, of course.”
“And the chocolates.” A beat passes. “And the walk… and jacket, too. It’s really nice… comfortable and, uh, smells... good. Like, motor oil and… a nice body wash and… trees.” You make a nauseated face and close your eyes for a second, pinching the bridge of your nose uncomfortably as Bucky looks on.
Oh, he realizes. You must be nervous.
Oh, he realizes. Should he kiss you?
He can’t remember if Sam mentioned this or not. Does mystery assume no kissing? Is it too soon for that? He thinks he must have kissed a few first dates in the past, but he’s not really sure if it’s too bold now. He’s really does start to sweat. Bullets.
The easy conversation and laughter from the past two hours is nowhere to be found. Bucky goes mute and you start fiddling with your phone, clearing your throat loudly and then pointing to the rectangular outline in his pocket.
He gives you his number immediately, tumbling over the area code and string of digits, so empty in his brain that when it vibrates in his grip after you text him, he almost jumps.
“Call me when you get home?” Your voice is small and hopeful, and you look like you’re biting your cheek.
“Sure,” he replies dumbly. You laugh, rubbing the back of your neck before turning and unlocking the gate. One final long look at him, his face, his mouth, his fingers, and you tug on his pinky shyly before heading through and toward your door.
Bucky reflexively makes a fist, entire limb tingling up to his elbow, the tiny gesture burrowing into his chest. Suddenly, he forgets entirely the modesty of first dates. He steps out of his body for a minute, staring at his still cupped palm like he’s holding a flame.
Rules be damned.
He taps the green icon next to your name, watching you suddenly pause a few meters away.
“Hey!” he blurts too-eagerly when you pick up, confused and turning to find him still where you left him on the other side. “Sam said I should wait to call. At least a day.”
“Oh yeah…?”
“Uh-huh,” Bucky nods, “Said it’s a bad look—guy being too excited. Gotta—I don’t know. Make the girl anticipate a little. Keep her interested.”
You retrace your steps, walking back, “What if the girl’s already interested?”
“Yeah?” He’s breathless, warmed up. “Not a bad look?”
“No. You look good to me.” Eyes travel up and down, peeking through diamond shapes of the iron gate, “Sharon told me something similar, since we’re on the subject of what’s good or bad.”
“What’s that?”
It should feel stupid that he’s been holding a phone call with someone who’s barely two feet away from him. Inches now, and you step slow, nose almost up against the frame. A metal clank and the gate slowly unlatches, opening up. You tuck the device into your back pocket, and Bucky does the same, barely registering the disconnecting click, heart racing with adrenaline.
Then, you smile.
Fuck. That smile.
“Said it’s not good to kiss on the first date.” 
Mischievously, you lean in, touch him soft on the lips and every beat of his pulse seems to be reaching out for the sweet breath in your mouth. “And I shouldn’t invite you inside, but we both seem to be … not good… at following dating decorum, so…” Your eyes light up teasingly, “You wanna come…in?”
Bucky makes a noise like a whimper. Wow. International assassin with a Kennedy under his belt and it’s a dirty joke that does him in.
You kiss him again, longer than the last, giggling softly and tugging on his bottom lip like you could pull his entire body toward you with just that. “I’m sure we could find a few more first date rules to break.”
“Yeah,” he says, ducking for another one, lips increasingly impatient. “I’m… in.”
You pull away with a laugh, yanking on his shirt, grabbing his hand. As Bucky’s towed along, he can’t help but think of two things:
First, god bless Sharon Carter.
And second… well, maybe he will thank Wilson for setting him up, after all.
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jae-daddy · 4 years
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Duff (2)
jaebum au series 
one / three
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pairing: jaebum x reader genre: angst, smut, cheating plot: you are the duff, and guys use you to get close to your bestfriend, turns out jaebum was no exception. but as time goes on the tension between you and your bestfriend’s unoffical boyfriend grows a/n: turns out its a series huehuehue hope y'all enjoy it <3 not edited
No matter how many times you walked into Heather’s penthouse you were always blown away by the view of that day. The sky was never the same, and each and every time you walked through the doors, the city was a painted in a different light. But as much as the view took your breath away, the male sitting on the couch made your blood boil. 
“Don’t you have a home, Jaebum?” You sneered at the boyfriend of three weeks putting his feet on the three thousand dollar coffee table as if he owned the place. 
“Always a pleasure, aren’t you, love?” He smiled at you cocking his head to the side. You rolled your eyes before placing your bag on the floor and walking in front of him, making him move his feet of the table. 
“Where’s Heather?” You fell into your designated armchair as you scanned the apartment. “She said she would be here.”
Jaebum decided to more annoying then usual and didn’t answer you. He took his phone out and began playing some old song. You swore your eyes were fully white in rage as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath trying to calm yourself down. 
And failing. 
You leaned towards the beautiful man who smirked at you, you were sure you looked animalistic with your teeth barred, but you didn’t care. You were going end him, kill him. 
“Listen here, you little shit-”
“Oh my, y/n!” A soft gentle voice saved the now fully grinning man. “Have you been waiting for long? I’m sorry.” 
She took a deep a breath in, before letting it out, exhausted. 
“You know traffic.”
You nodded, getting up and walking towards her. You gave Jaebum one last glare before you followed into her room. 
“You won’t believe what I found today!” She giggled as she rammaged through the bags she carried with her. “I would have absolutely loved this for me, but they didn’t have my size.” 
She gave you a small frown, before pulling out a lovely silk deep red dress. “But they had it in one of your sizes. You know how the trend in rich people is stravation these days, it’s so hard to find dresses in my size. But lucky for you, the bigger sizes are always available.”
Heather wasn’t mean. She wasn’t a bitch. At least she didn’t try to be those things. It just comes across that way. She doesn’t realise what she is saying because she never did need to have a filter. She was surrounded with people who didn’t see this as rude or mean, but as character and wit. And people who did find it upsetting weren’t in a position to really tell her how she sounded to the rest of the world. 
You bit your lip as you stared at her, making her gasp. 
“I did it again, didn’t I?” She frowned, her shoulders falling. She was trying to have a filter and that was enough for you. 
“It’s okay,” you shook your head, before giving her a toothy grin. “This dress is stunning!” You gave her a grateful smile as you ran your hands through the softness. 
“I promise to wear it next time.” 
“You can wear it today!” She smiled before doing a little jiggle. “One of JB’s friends has a club opening downtown tonight, and you are coming.”
You sucked in air through your teeth as you pretended to be in pain from the thought of missing this event. 
“I actually have a really important meeting in two days-”
“Stop lying, I know you.” She shot you a blank stare, as she began taking of her clothes and walking into the bathroom. “If you do have a meeting in two days the work for it would’ve finished a week ago, and if not, then you’re just lying.”
“Nerd!” Jaebum called from somewhere in the apartment. 
You growled before looking at Heather in angered confusion. 
“Does he not have a home?!” You said loudly so he could hear you. Heather just shook her head, as she put on her pink robe. 
“Of course he does,” she clipped her hair up. “And you’re coming so get ready, I’ll be out in a jiffy.” 
You were about to object but the door was closed before you could. You sighed as you stared at the dress in defeat. 
___________________________
“You’re wearing that?” Jaebum croaked out as you walked out of Heather’s room ready with your makeup, hair and outfit done. You shot him an annoyed glare in return, before opening the fridge. 
You sighed at the abundance of kombucha, and reached for the can of coke in the bottom row. You turned to find Jaebum staring at you with a weird look. 
“What?” You snapped. “Do you want one?” 
He shook his head no before looking away, his throat bobbing nervously. 
“Weirdo,” you muttered, as you opened your can and gulped a big chug. 
“You know there are glasses, right?” 
“You know you can shut up, right?” You gave him a fuck you smile before walking past him. 
“So you’re really wearing that?” He asked, watching you struggling to sit down. It was a gorgeous dress, and you had to admit it did look good on you, but it was a bit on a tighter side, especially in the decolletage. 
“Yes, why?” you looked at the boy, and instantly looked away as your cheeks flamed. 
Just because he turned out to be like every other boy and clung on to the next best thing in a matter of seconds, did not make him any less physically attractive. 
The way his dark trousled hair was pushed up, the way his jacket tightened around his arms as he crossed them. The pinkness of his lips, and the lip ring that you could not help but wonder how it would feel against your tongue. He was standing so causally, but the tightness on his face, and darkness in his eyes were enough to make you flame up. 
“Isn’t it-”
“A bit too comfortable?” You bit back before he could continue, “Yes, and this is the bigger size.” Your brows shot up as you nodded, as if to say I know, ridiculous. 
 It looked as if he was hesitating to say something for a moment. 
“I think-”
“How do I look?” Heather walked out in a dark green bodycon looking absolutely banging. She walked over and kissed Jaebum’s cheek. 
“Nice.” Jaebum smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes, and seemed rather awkward. His eyes skipped over to you; you looked away feeling uncomfortable. 
“Let’s go,” Heather spoke cheerily, breaking the silence that settled in the penthouse. 
As you got up, you felt his eyes on you. 
You knew you shouldn’t, you knew it was bad. 
But you looked up and met his eyes. 
Your body was instantly on fire. 
He didn’t walk after Heather, he stood there walking you walk closer to him. Your eyes didn’t leave him, and even though everything in your body was telling you to look away you couldn’t. 
You finally walked past him and took your eyes off him and trained it on the door that Heather had walked out off. 
“And you,” Jaebum whispered, his body so close to you, you felt his breath tickle the back of your neck, “look absolutely ravishing.” 
Tingles ignited in your core making you slightly press your legs together, as your chest heaved. 
Bloody hell. You hated him. 
________________________
The dark liqour burned your throat as you took another sip and scanned the club you ended up in tonight. You couldn’t lie, this club was pretty amazing. It was well planned, and the design and lighting of the place was inviting, playful and classy all at once. 
“I can’t tell if you’re actually an alcoholic or just like torture,” Jaebum commented from beside you. You turned towards him ready to bite back, but were taken aback by how stunning he looked. The lights in this club really did favour him alot. 
“Shouldn’t you be grinding on my bestfriend?” You asked instead, as you looked for Heather.
“Someone’s already beat me to it,” you heard him mutter, as you found your friend laughing and leaning back against another guy. You frowned at that, Jaebum was much better looking than that clown. 
“And you’re okay with that?” You asked, being careful, incase he was hurt. You didn’t know if Heather was having a play around with Jaebum or whether it was serious, and didn’t want to promise in her stead. But something about the way Jaebum had said that made your heart sink slightly. 
He shrugged before taking a sip of his drink, “it’s none of my business.” 
You groaned internally. He was such a melodramatic king. 
“Hey guys!” Heather came up to the table you and Jaebum were sitting at. “You guys are so boring,” she pouted in proper tipsy Heather style. “Why don’t you guys dance? Have fun kids.” 
She took Jaebum’s glass emptied it, before heading out to the same guy who welcomed her with open arms and probably a hard dick. 
You glared at him when his eyes met yours and he instantly looked away. 
“JB!” A voice yelled from behind you, you turned to find a handsome guy in a very expensive looking suit. “My man, you made it!” 
He hugged Jaebum who looked as if he wanted to get far away from here. You chuckled at his pained expression. 
“Thanks for the invite, Bam,” Jaebum smiled. “You really turned the place around. It looks great!” 
Bam shrugged, before shifting his attention to you. His eyes took you in, and his smile widened. 
“Hi,” he held your hand bringing it to his lips. You turned to look at Jaebum with a humoured smile. “My friends call me Bam, but you can call me Bambam.”
Your eyebrows rose, as a giggle left you. 
“It’s so good you have to say it twice.” 
This time you laughed, taking your hand back. 
He was an actual literal clown. 
“I can’t believe you used a children’s movie as a pick up line.”
Bambam gasped as he looked at Jaebum. “Who is this uncultured lady calling animated films children’s movies?” 
“That’s on you Bambam,” Jaebum rose his hands up. “We told you that pick up line was ridiculious.” 
Bambam looked at you with playful eyes instead, “You’re lucky you’re so goodlooking. Otherwise this conversation would’ve been long over.”
“Oh, lucky me,” you rolled your eyes, smiling. “I’m y/n, by the way. This place is amazing! The design is immaculate.” 
“Thank you, all done by me,” Bambam put a hand to his chest and took a little bow. 
Jaebum tried to ask Bambam something, but Bambam didn’t look away from you. He cut off Jaebum and asked, “So, you two are a thing?”
“No,” you answered, letting out a chuckle. “I don’t think you could even call us friends.”
You felt Jaebum’s eyes on you, but you ignored him. 
“Are you seeing anyone?” Bambam asked, taking a step closer. 
“Much to my displeasure, I have no choice but to see people with this sight of mine,” Jaebum straight up snorted at your horrible attempt at humour, while Bambam smirked at you. “But if you’re asking romantically, then no.”
“Good,” Bambam said, and you gulped, before looking away nervously. “How about Friday-”
“You party poopers!” Heather giggled before banging her hands on the table. “All of you on the dance floor right, now.” 
She took your hand and dragged you away from the pair. You turned back and saw Bambam follow, with a sulken Jaebum trailing behind slowly. 
Heather placed her hands on your waist, making your sway with the music. You gave in deciding fighting it won’t get you anywhere. She turned around, and leaned against you, making you laugh as she moved against you. You turned around, both of bodies moving fluently in slut. 
You laughed as she reached back and slapped your ass, before pressing her front against you. 
“He’s cute,” she breathed into your ear. You looked up and saw Bambam studying you both. 
“Is he?” you replied, before hissing. “I don’t know, he’s not my type.” 
“Claim him before I make him mine,” she pushed you against him. Bambam grabbed you, and you instantly wanted to get away. 
It didn’t last long though. 
“Who is she?” Bambam asked leaning into your ear. You followed his gaze that was looking at Heather hungrily. 
“She’s Heather, my friend.” You answered, wanting to escape more than ever. You knew what was happening, it had happened so many times already that you were already dissociating from your body. 
“You don’t mind?” He asked, biting his lip as he looked at you. 
You shook your head, atleast he asked. 
“Thanks, babe,” he winked at you.
He moved past you before you could tell him that her and Jaebum were together. You turned to find Heather and Bambam already dancing together. You searched for Jaebum but couldn’t find him anywhere. 
You turned, bumping into someone. 
“Oh sorry,” you said softly before looking up, and finding Jaebum. You didn’t like the way he was looking at you. 
“I’m going to catch some fresh air,” you pushed past him, and walked out of the club. Instead of walking out onto the street, you turned and walked towards the stairways leadnig up. 
You needed to be alone. Actually, alone. Not surrounded by strangers on a cold late street. 
You let out a deep breath as you finally made it to the rooftop. It was much higher than you had expected and were pretty winded up, but you didn’t mind. There was no one here, and the view just made it much better. 
But that didn’t last long. 
You heard footsteps behind you, and even without turning you could tell it was him. The way your body began heating up from his stare, the sounds of his footsteps, you could tell it was him. 
“What are you doing here?” You called out, without turning back. “Don’t you have a friend to seperate from your girlfriend?”
“If I didn’t know any better,” he replied, his steps slowling down. “You sound a tad bit jealous.”
“Oh please,” you rolled your eyes as you turned away from the littering city lights. “He was not my type. It’s better he went away himself.” 
Jaebum stared at you with another one of those intense looks. He looked at you as if he could see you clearer than anything else in the world. He looked at you as if he had solved a puzzle and was now inspecting every piece carefully. He looked at you like you were the only thing he has ever looked at. 
You tore your eyes away, your cheeks burning again. 
“How did you know it was me?” He asked, licking his lips. Jaebum placed his forearms on the railing, and some dangerous part of you imagined you between his arms. Between him and the railing. Your dress hitched, your breathe heavy moaning his name as he rammed into you. 
You turned around, and pressed your legs together. 
“It was your goddamn tap dancing shoes,” you lied, making him laugh. 
“These shoes cost this much just so it doesn’t sound like that,” he looked over at you, and you smiled back despite yourself. 
You bit your lip and looked away, as imagines of his mouth on your skin scorched your mind. 
“Are you okay?” He asked, and you shivered slightly. 
“I told you, Jae,” you breathed annoyed. “He was not my type.”
“And what if he was?” 
You were. 
“What would you do then?” His dark eyes peered into yours. You didn’t know if it was him, you didn’t know if it was you, but the distance between you lessened. 
Your dress hitched at your thighs as your body pressed against Jaebum’s. 
His minty breath laced with liqour brushed your lips, and you savoured its warmth. You wanted to feel it all over your body. 
Your eyes flashed to the lip ring and you once again imagined it between your lips. 
Jaebum was your type. He was most definately you type, and you let him chose her. 
“If anyone was my type,” you lifted your gaze to stare into his. His dark eyes shown with something, and you hoped it was understanding. He was your type, you had wanted him, but he had chose her. “He wouldn’t chose her.”
He had chosen her. 
“He would be an incredible fool to do that,” he didn’t move away from you, but he didn’t move in closer. 
You stayed for a moment, calming your body from crashing into his. 
You snorted in distaste before chuckling and moving away. You stared at the city lights one more time before turning back towards the building. 
Jaebum remained there, his body turned towards the lights, but his mind some place else. His knuckles white by his side, his body tight. 
You smirked at him over your shoulder. 
Jaebum looked over his shoulder when he heard your heels stop halfway to the door. 
“You fool.” You scoffed, before walking away. 
330 notes · View notes
hinadoria · 3 years
Text
Title: like nobody’s business
Author: hinadoria / Twitter: @bunniepunk / AO3: bunnypunk
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Mild amounts of swearing
Summary: Shen Yuan had never known what to do about crying people, much less crying men asleep in his bed at ass o’clock in the middle of the night. God, if Jiu-ge knew about this, Shen Yuan would be six feet under. No, he’d be yeeted directly into hell’s abyss. Arguably though, this was all Jiu-ge’s fault.
AO3: Link
It started when his old roommate Shang Qinghua decided to get hitched at Shen Yuan’s 25th birthday party. Disregarding the fact that it was his birthday party in his apartment that he was paying for (Shang Qinghua was only there to keep an eye on him at Jiu-ge’s ever insistent demands), an increasingly hammered Shang Qinghua had decided it was the perfect time to propose to his disappointingly sober boyfriend.
“My LORd, have yOU EvEr ThoughT about Getting HitchED?!” he shouted in Mobei-Jun’s face. Shen Yuan saw the wince on Mobei-Jun’s face before he could smooth it away. Airplane-Bro had that effect on people. Even his boyfriend was no exception.
However, Mobei-Jun had silently pulled the biggest ring Shen Yuan had ever seen out of his pocket like it was a dimension to worlds unknown. Shang Qinghua yanked it out of his grasp, put it on, and immediately started sobbing loudly in his boyfriend's arms, effectively ruining the atmosphere.
If it wasn’t because Shen Yuan was already secretly plotting to escape to his room, he might have been significantly more miffed at this sequence of events.
After all, he had never been one for big, lavish events like a formal birthday party. He’d much rather spend it in the comfort of his room, maybe playing videogames with a few close friends. However, Jiu-ge had insisted, in that stubborn way of his, taking no arguments. As a result, Shen Yuan wasn’t sure he even knew half the people at his own party.
This all didn’t mean he was completely free of indignation, however. Shen Yuan cleared his throat pointedly, but was ignored by both the affectionate couple and the crowd of people politely applauding.
It was a testament to Mobei-Jun’s excitement, if he was a man that felt such emotions, that he leaped up onto the table, which creaked dangerously with his weight.
“I’d like to thank my dear friends and my soon-to-be best man who supported me through this time. Whom I wouldn’t have met without Shen Yuan’s recommendation to work at Cang Qiong’s internship program under Shen Jiu. So a heartfelt thanks to them both,” Mobei-Jun proclaimed.
The attention of the party turned to its host, who began to turn hot under all the attention.
Damn, it wasn’t as if he was Mother Teresa.
He had simply wanted to stop hearing Jiu-ge’s nagging complaints about a lack of competent interns at his company. And he knew that Airplane-bro’s boyfriend was just about to graduate. It was simple math.
Either way, he had to resolve this situation before Mobei-Jun broke the table or worse, made him give a speech. He quickly grabbed an abandoned glass from the table and raised it high. With raucous cheer, the party returned to full swing, and Shen Yuan strategically retreated to his bedroom.
The next day, Shang Qinghua had all but been moved out of his apartment (Mobei-Jun worked fast and efficiently. Shen Yuan had been begrudgingly impressed). In the midst of his soporific haze, a loud banging came from his front door. Reluctant to get up, Shen Yuan nevertheless used every last bit of his willpower to do so. When he opened the door however, he immediately found himself in deep regret.
A pale Jiu-ge, like Bloody Mary summoned from a dirty elementary school bathroom mirror, stood at his door, foot tapping a mile a minute. He stormed past Shen Yuan into his apartment and curled his mouth in distaste at the mess.
“This apartment is no longer acceptable. I’ve put up with it until now, but this is the last straw. It is imperative that you move out immediately to a place not infested by the stench of the poor,” Jiu-ge demanded. Shen Yuan would never tell him it was probably the week-old ramen stewing on his kitchen counter.
“But I don’t want to, Jiu-ge, please!” he whined. Like most things regarding his older brother, would eventually yield, but would put up a valiant effort nonetheless. No one had the right to accuse him of being a pushover, after all.
Jiu-ge sat down at his oily counter with a sigh, hands flying up to bury themselves in his messy hair.
Shen Yuan immediately felt guilty.
His brother looked a lot less put-together than he usually was, now that he was looking more closely. His shirt was unbuttoned and his makeup was smudged, both facets of his appearance he usually controlled with meticulous determination.
“Please don’t fight me on this, A-Yuan.” His brother looked back at him, and Shen Yuan could see the weariness in his eyes.
“Is everything okay?” asked Shen Yuan. He tapped his fingers nervously.
“It will be,” Jiu-ge answered immediately as if he had expected this question. “Once I get a good night’s sleep.” Shen Yuan moved to sit by his brother.
“Mobei-Jun proposed to Shang Qinghua yesterday,” he offered. This made the crease between Jiu-ge’s brows deeper further.
“At your birthday party?”
“I know, I was shocked too!”
“Rude bastard. I knew nothing good could come out of that tight-knit group of rascals the company foisted on me.”
“Don’t be like that. I bet you secretly appreciate their help, big softie.” Shen Yuan poked at his brother’s cheek, and giggled when Jiu-ge pretended to bite at him. A small smile appeared on his brother’s face, and Shen Yuan rejoiced at the sight. He felt like he deserved an award for Best Brother of the Year.
“I suppose they suffice at times.” Jiu-ge wrinkled his nose like he had thought of something particularly disgusting. “Well. Almost all of them,” he huffed. He shook his head when Shen Yuan looked at him in question. But Best Brother of the Year did not do things half-heartedly.
“I know how to cheer you up even more,” Shen Yuan decided then and there.
That was how Shen Yuan found himself moved into the expensive nouveau-riche apartment complex next door to his brother on the third floor. All things considered, it wasn’t too bad. Jiu-ge was too busy to check up on him more than once a week in person, although the daily calls to his office phone were still a requirement.
Shen Yuan had always been a homebody, there was no denying that. As long as he could coop up in his room reading and editing trashy novels, he didn’t care for the particulars of time or place, even if leaving his apartment and chancing upon another human made him feel like Oscar the Grouch having been caught outside of his trash can and committing a crime.
The point was: it had all been going just fine and dandy, until one day a shout disrupted Shen Yuan from his editing of one of Airplane’s terribly written papapa scenes. He roughly yanked open his curtains, hearing a rip in the plush blue velvet. Whatever, what Jiu-ge didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
The scene which greeted him was one of darkness, which okay, he wasn’t quite expecting that but fine, it wasn’t the first time he had lost track of time doing this and that. Shivering, Shen Yuan stepped out onto his balcony and peered over the rails to see a very attractive, very drunk man holding a broken bottle of what looked like Xin Mo liquor.
“Shen Jiu, there you are, you fucking bastard. Fucking coward! What, too afraid to come and see your disgusting student Binghe on this beautiful night? You always thought you were above us mere mortals, didn’t you? I hope both sides of your pillow are always ice!”
Yikes, Shen Yuan thought privately.
This dude was hammered. Despite everything a laugh bubbled its way up his chest. He didn’t know his brother was so unpopular at work but with a sour face like his, he should’ve expected. Briefly, the thought of pretending to be his brother just to hear more of the entertaining insults crossed his mind, but before he could open his mouth the man, probably named Binghe, went on.
“I bet you think you wake up just looking like an angel descended from the heavens! Well let me tell you, scumbag, that I curse you and your descendents to always have shaky eyeliner! Let’s see you keep up that hoity-toity look and scream at me when you come into work looking like a clown!”
Shen Yuan covered his eyes in horror. Not his eyeliner! He had to look sharp for the ladies.
“I fixed that stupid assignment one million times! Your nitpicking doesn’t even make sense anymore, you blind geezer! Come down here, if you’re not a coward and I’ll show you ...” Binghe paused, looking like he was gonna hurl.
“Show me what? You can’t leave me hanging like that, I won’t be able to sleep!” Shen Yuan shouted out, against his better judgement. He had already been collecting Binghe’s flavored insults to use against that traitor Shang Qinghua next time he saw him.
Binghe looked back up, with what seemed like confusion in his eyes, though it could have just been bleary drunkenness. To Shen Yuan’s horror, it looked like Binghe had tears in his eyes.
“All I wanted was for Laoshi to acknowledge me,” Binghe sobbed out. At this point Shen Yuan had missed his chance to tell the poor man that his brother was out of town on a business trip, and that Binghe was shouting at a stranger. He felt something in his chest squeeze at Binghe’s watery puppy dog eyes.
“Why does everyone look down on me?” Binghe cried. “I try so hard, over and over but all you do is scorn me … again and again! What do I have to do, just tell me, and I’ll do it. Anything! Just …” At this point the boy was choking on his sobs. Shen Yuan felt something shattering. He found himself walking down the stairs. He was going to go down and fetch him before the police were called, that was all, he told himself.
By the time he arrived on the cold grass ready to coax the drunkard, he found him passed out, clutching the broken bottle so hard his hand was bleeding. Shen Yuan sucked in a sharp breath.
“Alright buddy, let’s get you warmed up,” Shen Yuan said as he pried the glass from Binghe’s hand and used all his strength to haul him up and to the elevator.
He got several strange looks as he dragged an unconscious man across the fancy lobby, but Shen Yuan just snorted and ignored them. The people here had sticks so far up their ass they were getting free prostate massages. Shen Yuan stifled his laughter at his own wit in Binghe’s dead weighted shoulder and got a few more strange looks by the lady in the elevator. Halfway to Shen Yuan’s room, Binghe woke up and stared at Shen Yuan like he was an alien.
He struggled a bit and whined, “Laoshi, please don’t dropkick me into the Panama Canal, I promise I’ll be a good boy.”
Shen Yuan laughed and patted Binghe’s hair. “Go back to sleep, rowdy boy. We’ll talk in the morning.” It probably wasn’t because of his words, but Binghe managed to walk a few steps on his own before becoming dead weight on Shen Yuan again. He felt the breath knocked out of him.
“For someone who’s such a crybaby, you sure are … heavy!” Shen Yuan panted as he managed to drag Binghe into his apartment and throw him onto his bed. He shoddily wrapped up Binghe’s bleeding hand with several bandages. Novels may have taught him a lot, but he had surprisingly little practical knowledge when faced with a gash like Binghe’s in reality.
The fatigue of the night finally caught up with him as he saw Binghe’s peaceful sleeping face and he barely managed to do his nightly routine before sliding into his bed next to the unconscious person.
Shen Yuan was just about to drift away into sleep until he heard sniffling coming from the other man and turned around to see Binghe crying in his sleep.
And so was his current dilemma. Shen Yuan had no idea how to handle crying people. He stared dumbly for a few moments before kicking himself to do something, anything!
Shen Yuan wouldn’t do this for any random stranger that came knocking to his door, but luckily he had gleaned several useful tidbits of information from Binghe’s drunken speech. For example, he was likely one of Jiu-ge’s new interns at the large Cang Qiong Company he worked at, under the Qing Jing subsidiary. Second, Jiu-ge seemed to be giving the poor boy an extremely hard time, and Shen Yuan knew better than anyone just how sharp his brother’s acerbic tongue could be. Shen Yuan felt mildly responsible for cleaning up his brother’s mess.
Also, Binghe was terribly cute. He reminded Shen Yuan of the little puppy he used to play with in childhood, named Bingbing, after his favorite actress.
It was a combination of these facts, or none of them, that ultimately made Shen Yuan do what he did next; wrap his arms around Binghe and gently stroke his hair, murmuring comforting words to him until he stopped crying.
Somewhere along the way he found himself asleep as well.
Binghe awoke from his drunken stupor sometime between ass and fuck o’clock in the morning. His hand was covered in messily wrapped bandages.
When he saw the face of the person fast asleep next to him, he flinched backwards so hard he almost fell out of the bed.
What did I do last night? He wailed miserably in his head. A worst case scenario flashed through his head, and he made sure that both of them were clothed before exhaling a sigh of relief. That was the last time he let Mobei-Jun get him drunk, bachelor party be damned.
The last thing he remembered was accepting a glass full of alcohol in the bar he’d been dragged to, but everything afterwards was a blur. He didn’t remember how he walked all the way to his boss’s nouveau riche apartment, and he certainly didn’t remember how he ended up in bed with the man he was most fearful of.
There was one thing Binghe knew with full certainty, however; he had to escape this apartment immediately before he lost his job or worse: his life.
He had barely turned around and registered vaguely that the apartment was a lot sloppier than he’d expected of his avaricious boss before a sleepy hum made him freeze in his tracks.
“Mmm… Binghe?”
Binghe froze. Shen Jiu had never called him by name, it was always something along the lines of “scum” or “lad”.
Filled with trepidation, he turned to face his boss against his better judgement.
A sleepy smile stretched its way across the face of the person in front of him just as the morning’s rays peeked through the rip in the curtains and fell across his face.
Angelic, Binghe’s mind vaguely registered. Maybe he hadn’t come to his boss’s apartment after all. Maybe he had died and entered a realm different than the one he’d been in. Maybe he was already in heaven.
The angel’s face scrunched up cutely at the offending rays across his face. He glanced at the curtains before letting out a forlorn sigh.
“Jiu-ge’s gonna kill me for that …” sighed the angel across from Binghe.
Jiu-ge? Who’s that, I’ll fight him so you never have a frown on your pretty face ever again, Binghe thought blearily.
Mr. Angel noticed he was awake and smiled a crooked smile.
“Good morning. You were drunk and screaming outside my window last night, so I thought I’d do a public service and take you in before you hurt yourself, “ the angel laughed nervously. “Binghe is your name, right?”
Binghe nodded, feeling like his body was not his own. Then he had a thought.
“Wait … how do you know?”
The angel’s lips thinned, looking like he was trying really hard not to laugh. Oh, that was not a good sign.
“Well … You dropped your name in the middle of shouting about how you wished your boss’s food was too salty, among other things …”
The wave of relief that was about to pass through Binghe at realizing this person was likely not his boss aborted itself as it was overtaken by sheer waves of mortification.
Binghe covered his face with his hands, letting out an ungodly groan of embarrassment.
“Binghe… I’m saying this for your own good.” Mr. Angel looked into Binghe’s eyes seriously. “Do you know how to use swear words?”
Binghe immediately pouted, feeling like he was being made fun of. He couldn’t find it in himself to be truly annoyed, however, at the angel’s bell-like peals of laughter smothered by his hand. It was such a stark contrast to his boss’s restrained expressions.
“Ah! I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Shen Yuan, Shen Jiu’s younger twin brother.”
And there was the horror again.
Just as Binghe was about to bid farewell to his short, inconsequential life, Shen Yuan continued chattering. “You’re lucky Jiu-ge’s out of town on a business trip, and that you weren’t actually serenading his window but mine. If he was here, I don’t know if I could have even stopped him from personally throwing you into a jail cell.”
Binghe felt like he had gotten off of a life-threatening roller coaster ride. Stiffly, he rose from the bed and bent ninety degrees into a bow.
“Thanking Shen Yuan for his kindness in rescuing this lowly one from his predicament!” Binghe grew so nervous he immediately started speaking as if he were in a period drama. “In order to repay my honorable benefactor, this one will prepare breakfast!” He rushed away before Shen Yuan could speak a single word.
Once Binghe found the kitchen, he allowed himself a mini-freakout session. He! Was in! His boss’s younger brother’s bed! And the younger brother was an angel! Even though Binghe was fairly certain nothing untoward had occurred between the two of them the night prior, he felt every inch of his nerves tingling. He was also fairly certain that any other person that lacked Shen Yuan’s generosity would have immediately called the police on him at the least.
This was the first time anyone had done something so selfless for his sake.
Unbidden, a flush streaked across his cheeks, and Binghe slapped at himself to get out of it. Shen Yuan was his benefactor, and it would be wrong to have indecent thoughts about someone so innocent. There may not be much Binghe was good at, as he had learned from his internship under Shen Jiu, but the least he could do was cook him a decent breakfast.
Shen Yuan was roused from his half-wakeful state by the smell of something good coming from the kitchen. Which was weird because last he checked, there was nothing in there but dust and half-eaten ramen. (Yes, he had a problem.)
Wait … Binghe!
It was a little belated, but the nagging voice in Shen Yuan’s head that sounded suspiciously like Jiu-ge berated himself for falling asleep again while a stranger was in his apartment. A cute stranger, but a stranger nonetheless.
Shen Yuan, the voice nagged. One of these days you’re going to get yourself murdered in cold blood …
Alright, shut up, you. No one wants to hear this in the early morning, Shen Yuan bickered back.
“Sir?” Binghe’s voice nervously called from the kitchen entrance.
Shen Yuan immediately relaxed back into what he thought was a cool pose.
“There’s no need for formalities, Binghe. After all, you’ve already slept in my bed.”
Binghe’s ears flushed red at his words, and he swayed back and forth like a maiden on the morning after her wedding night. Shen Yuan stopped this strange line of thinking once he realized how weird it was.
“I made you breakfast as a thank you for er… handling me last night,” Binghe said softly.
Well, that didn’t help his strange thoughts. The last conscious thought Shen Yuan had was that he’d better go and eat the poor shy guy’s food since he had made it already.
He didn’t recall getting up or sitting down at the kitchen table, but the next thing he knew he was staring down at an empty plate, stomach full of delicious food.
“I don’t know what to think. This is the first time this has happened to me.” It wasn’t, but Shen Yuan had always had a flair for the dramatic. “If you can cook so well, why are you wasting your time under my brother’s wing? You should go be a professional chef, and share this magic with the rest of the world.”
It wasn’t empty praise. Shen Yuan genuinely believed he’d be blessed if he could eat like this every day for the rest of his life. His terrible habit of crappy eating would be forever changed.
Binghe was so red he looked like a tomato.
Abruptly, the sounds of a phone ringing disrupted the nice atmosphere. Binghe’s face paled.
“Oh no, I left Mobei-Jun at the club last night. He must be wondering where I am. The bachelor party got kind of crazy.”
Hm? Mobei-Jun? Shen Yuan slapped his forehead in realization. Of course! Binghe was a part of Jiu-ge’s interns, of course he knew Mobei-Jun. Shen Yuan had no idea how he had failed to make that connection. He might even be the best man Mobei-Jun had mentioned, since he was pretty sure the third intern was a woman. Sha Hualing, he believed her name was?
Either way, Shen Yuan hadn’t realized he and Binghe were so closely connected. Besides, he hadn’t felt comfortable calling Binghe a stranger, now that they no longer were.
Maybe he’d get a chance to see Binghe in a tux at the wedding? That would be so cute! Of course, he’d have to help keep him away from the champagne, especially since Jiu-ge would also be there. That was a nightmare waiting to happen.
While Shen Yuan was off fantasizing, Binghe had gathered all his stuff and prepared to leave. He hovered nervously around the door.
Shen Yuan snapped out of it to bid him goodbye. Binghe smiled shyly.
“Maybe I’ll see you around again sometime?” he asked.
Shen Yuan hid a smile behind his hand, and adopted a lofty expression.
“This immortal does not often descend from his honorable peak. However, if fate wills it to be so, then so shall it be,” he said, imitating Binghe’s earlier style of speech.
Binghe laughed, but kept hovering near the door as if he was waiting for something.
“Alright, your friend must be wondering where you are. Go on, now.” A flash of disappointment crossed Binghe’s face, but he obediently left, looking back like a puppy several times as he did so.
It wasn’t until much later that Shen Yuan would realize he had forgotten to explain that he was friends with Shang Qinghua, and that they would likely see each other again at the wedding. By the time the wedding itself rolled around, it would prove to be an ordeal of its own.
But that would remain a story for another time.
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