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#then no mention of seeing him (one off mention) and then he shows up after she was crying her eyes out over Ted who she would've followed +
golden-cherry · 2 days
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deal - cl16 (30/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: The Leclerc family dinner is something else.
Warnings: this is just cute, mentions of injuries (due to Monopoly), alcohol consumption, Arthur Leclerc
Word Count: 3.8k
series masterlist
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A/N: happy birthday to the lovely anon from yesterday! this is not smutty, but I hope you'll still like it! feedback is appreciated!
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When Charles brings the rickety Renault to a halt and pulls the handbrake, you can hardly believe your eyes.
The car is parked in front of a large, white house that is surrounded by green ivy on one corner. The black roof perfectly matches the black shutters leaning against the wall of the house, giving you a glimpse of the interior. Above the double doors of the entrance is a small balcony with a black metal fence and small flower boxes in which beautiful, colorful flowers are sure to bloom in summer.
It looks like a painting.
You stare open-mouthed through the windshield. "It's gorgeous."
Your friend smiles. "My mother had it renovated last year. The façade was crumbling a bit and the windows were no longer in good shape." He shrugs his shoulders. "But otherwise it's stayed the same. I grew up here."
You can hardly take your eyes off it as you get out of the car. "It's beautiful. It must have been great growing up here."
"It was." He rounds the hood and stands next to you. "Unfortunately, I was always on the road because of karting and the older I got, the less time I spent here. But this house holds so many memories." He exhales deeply. "This is my home."
You turn your head in his direction before reaching for his hand and squeezing it. "Thank you for taking me with you."
Charles smiles gently at you and pulls you a little closer so that you can feel his warm breath on your face. "Don't get too excited. You haven't met my brothers yet."
You tilt your head a little. "Are they that bad?"
"The worst," he whispers and leans forward a little. His gaze flickers briefly from your eyes to your lips. Your heart leaps a little. "But I'm the worst."
"Shouldn't I stay away from you then?" you ask him. He's so close to you that you have to tilt your head back to look at him. "Good girls should keep their distance from bad boys, shouldn't they?"
Charles releases his hand from yours and gently places it on your neck, leaving you no choice but to look at him. His other arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you all the way against him. Chest to chest, he looks down at you before licking his lips. You can feel the arousal pooling in your panties. "Are you a good girl, mon amour?"
As one of the front doors opens, he disengages from you with a smooth movement, as if nothing had ever happened and as if it wasn't running through your mind how you would have loved to get down on your knees for him right there. As he walks towards the house, you can see his back muscles dancing under his shirt. How you wish you could scratch him with your fingernails and -
"Maman. It's so good to see you," he greets his mother, who kisses him left and right on the cheek, snapping you out of your super non-platonic daydream. Which maybe isn't the worst thing, Charles is your friend after all.
"Yes yes, it's nice to see you too," she replies, before pushing past him and coming towards you. "Chérie, I'm so glad you're here!" The woman hugs you tightly before also kissing you left and right.
"It's nice to see you again too, Pascale," you smile. "Thank you so much for inviting me. The house is gorgeous."
"Thank you, chérie," she replies and reaches for your hands. "Come on, come on. Let me show you the house." Before you can say anything back, she pulls you towards the house, past Charles and through the door. "Charles! Your brothers will be here soon. You can set the table," she calls to him over her shoulder.
"Of course, Maman," he replies and when you look back at him, he rolls his eyes in mock annoyance.
"And please take the good china! We want to make a good impression."
"Of course, Maman." Charles, who has followed you into the house, closes the front door behind him.
The inside of the house looks like it's from another world. Large, white tiles adorn the floor, the furniture is kept simple, but still looks luxurious and so expensive that you'd be worried about scratching the surfaces with your car keys if you put them down. The lower floor is open plan, with a large kitchen with a kitchen island, a glass dining table and the living room. There's a soft-looking sofa in front of the fireplace, where you can definitely warm up on cold days. There are countless pictures on the walls - a mixture of art and personal photos.
"Would you like something to drink, chérie?" asks Pascale as you stop in the kitchen and she lets go of your hand. She opens the fridge and starts rummaging around in it. "We have water, orange juice, spritz, wine and cola."
"I don't need anything, thank you," you reply with a smile. You're a little overwhelmed that she's being so nice to you. You're not used to parents being so sweet and kind. Yours certainly weren't when you lived with them.
"All right, then. If you need anything, just take it. Make yourself at home." She squeezes your shoulder briefly before scurrying past you. "Charles! The table!"
"I'm on it," his voice comes from another corner of the room before he steps back into your field of vision. He is holding expensive-looking tableware in his hands, which he carefully spreads out on various coasters on the glass table. "Could you please take the cutlery from the top drawer there? There must be six of us. Enzo wanted to bring his wife Charlotte."
You take the cutlery from the drawer and count it off before joining him at the table and distributing the items. "I'm a bit nervous," you confess quietly. As you place a fork next to one of the plates, Charles grabs your hand.
"We can leave if that's too much for you," he suggests. " I'm sorry. My brothers aren't that bad. They're nice and funny and I think you'll get along fine." He strokes the inside of his wrist lovingly with his thumb. "You really don't need to worry. But if you want to leave, I can understand that."
You shake your head slightly. "It's all good. Your mother cooked dinner especially for me and it would be rude to leave now." You chew the inside of your cheek. "I just want to make a good impression."
Charles takes the rest of the cutlery from your hand before interlacing his fingers with yours. "You really don't have to worry about that, mon amour. She already loves you."
You raise an eyebrow in confusion. "And how do you know that? Did she tell you that?"
"She didn't need to," he replies with a smile. "When I introduced her to Annika back then, she reacted differently. No kisses, no dinner to get to know each other better. And she definitely didn't ask her to feel at home here," he explains, placing his free hand on your cheek. "She has good intuition and the fact that she took you to her heart within minutes just shows me that I made a good catch with you."
"Excuse me! There are children here!" a male voice shouts across the room. You would have liked to take three steps back to put some distance between you and Charles, but he keeps you in place.
"I don't see any children," replies the man in front of you, glancing over your head towards the kitchen. When you turn around, a young man is standing there, grinning and leaning against the kitchen island. "All I see is an annoying little brother who doesn't know when to hold back."
Playfully hurt, the stranger puts his hand on his chest. "Ouch. I'm not the one who can't seem to just pull through ." Before you can say anything back, he takes the few steps towards you and stops in front of Charles. The two stare at each other for a moment before a wide smile spreads across the shorter man's face. "Good to see you, big brother."
Charles releases his hand from yours so that he can embrace his baby brother. "You too." With a smile, he hugs him before gently pushing him away. He turns to you. "This is my little brother Arthur."
"It's nice to meet you," he replies and - in true Pascale style - gives you a little kiss on each cheek before winking at you. "Maman has already told me about you, but she didn't tell me how beautiful you are."
"'Keep your hands off, Arthur,' your roommate warns his brother, but he just waves it off.
"Don't worry, Charles. I'm not here to take your girlfriend away." You raise your hand and open your mouth to correct him, but he turns on his heel and walks back towards the fridge. "I'm here because I was promised good food. And maybe a game of Monopoly?" He waggles his eyebrows in anticipation.
Charles shakes his head vigorously. "Absolutely not. Last time Enzo nearly lost a finger because you thought he was cheating the bank."
Arthur rolls his eyes. "The whole thing would be unfunny without a bit of violence." His gaze shifts from his big brother to you. "What about you? Do you like Monopoly?"
"Monopoly? Maybe we should look for the first aid kit first," laughs the young woman who has just joined you. With her long blonde hair and wide, pearly-white smile, she looks so beautiful that it almost takes your breath away. Without giving the guys in the room a glance, she walks straight up to you and hugs you tightly. "Hi, I'm Charlotte. Enzo's wife." She gives you a quick hug before pulling away from you. "I like your top."
You introduce yourself to her as well before thanking her for the compliment. "Is Monopoly really that crazy in this family?" you ask quietly, watching Charles and Arthur tease each other in the kitchen.
"When it comes to winning, the men behave like animals," she explains, putting her slender arm around your shoulder. "That's why it's all the better that you're here now. Maybe they're acting a bit more grown-up this time then."
"Everyone here is an adult," another person defends themselves. The black-haired man tries to get Arthur out of Charles' headlock. "My little brothers might be a bit wild, but we're all old enough to behave reasonably." As he separates the two bickering men, he stands between them with his arms outstretched.
Arthur points his finger at the eldest of the three brothers. "You once knocked over the whole board because you had no more money to pay Charles."
Charles briefly runs his fingers through his tousled hair to get it into style. "And you once kicked us out of your apartment because you didn't have a hotel to take out a mortgage."
Before you know it, Enzo grabs his little brothers and tucks them under his arms, but Charles is quicker. With an elegant twist, he wriggles out of his brother's tight grip and twists his arm a little so that he can't get hold of him again, while Arthur tries with all his might to free himself.
"I told you," Charlotte whispers to you. "Like animals."
"Are you out of your minds?" Pascale's voice drowns out the boys, who abruptly move away from each other and blink at their mother. Arthur's face is red, while Enzo tugs his shirt right. Charles throws you a grin and a wink. "I'm cooking for everyone here and you're acting like children! Come on now! You know what you have to do!" she nags her sons, who quietly apologize to her and then scurry back and forth to put the rest of the things on the table.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" you ask the young woman next to you, but before she can answer you, Pascale is standing in front of you.
"Please take a seat. You're our special guest today and if I even see you lift a finger…" She gives you a stern, loving look before pulling one of the chairs from the table. With a nod, she tells you to sit down. Her look leaves no room for discussion.
"Would you like a glass of wine? I've brought a lovely sweet Riesling," Charlotte asks as she takes two wine glasses from one of the cupboards in the kitchen.
"Yes, please."
As she sets your glass down in front of you, the men also sit down at the table while Pascale places various bowls in front of you. When Charles tries to sit on the chair opposite you, his mother promptly stops him.
"The chair is broken, chéri. I'm afraid you'll have to use that stool there," she says, pointing to the small stool in the corner of the room.
Without hesitation, Charles swaps the pieces of furniture, but when he sits down, he grimaces. "My goodness, that's uncomfortable. It's sure to give me a backache."
"Maybe your lovely girlfriend can give you a back massage later," Arthur suggests, wiggling his eyebrows. Before he can react, your friend has reached into one of the bowls in front of you and thrown a piece of bread at his little brother. "Ouch, what the hell? I didn't say anything! It only becomes ambiguous when you make it ambiguous."
"Boys, pull yourselves together, otherwise it'll be the last time I invite you all here for dinner," Pascale scolds her sons, but you can tell she's not serious. She sits down at the table in front of them. "Now eat before the food gets cold."
-
"How did you two meet?" asks Enzo, popping a spoonful of vanilla ice cream into his mouth.
The pasta that Pascale cooked especially for you tasted absolutely fantastic. While you ate together, you talked about all sorts of things. About Enzo's work, Charlotte's recent seminar, new recipes that Pascale really wants to try out and your photography. At the beginning you were worried that you wouldn't be able to join in as you didn't know anyone from this family, but there was never a moment when you felt left out. It feels nice to be part of a family again - even if it's not your own.
Charles, who stretches his back briefly, looks at you across the table. "That's a funny story. Would you like to tell it?"
As all eyes turn to you, you have to swallow. You weren't expecting the attention. But Charles looks at you so gently and his smile is so warm. He makes you feel like you're not in the wrong place.
"He surprised me when I came out of the shower half-naked," you grin back. All you hear from the corner where Arthur is sitting is a whistle.
"Hey, that's not quite true," your roommate defends himself. "You were living in my second apartment without me knowing! Joris rented you the apartment and didn't tell me. And when I turned up there, you came out of the shower. It's not my fault." He raises his hands. "And you wanted to beat me up with a magazine!"
You reach for your wine glass and take a sip. "You were a stranger who suddenly appeared in my apartment. How else could I have reacted? You were so close to calling the police."
"You were standing half-naked in my apartment. It could have been that you were a crazy fan and somehow found out the address."
Charlotte looks up from her bowl of ice cream at you. "Didn't you know who he was?" As you shake your head, she claps her hands several times in delight. "Oh how cute! Just like in the fanfictions you can read on the internet! That's awesome!"
Her husband gives her a puzzled look. "You read fanfictions about my brother?"
Charlotte rolls her eyes. "Are you crazy? Of course not! But every now and then I just hear about it."
"And you've just decided to share the apartment," says Arthur as he scrapes two more scoops of ice cream out of the ice cream container.
"Yep. Just like that," Charles explains, and you smile gratefully at him. You're glad you don't have to explain that you're unemployed. Especially since everyone at this table is pursuing promising careers. Your friend smiles back affectionately before arching his back. "And it would also be the best decision I've ever made if I didn't have to sit on this stupid stool all evening. My spine feels like pebbles."
"Don't be like that," his mother grumbles at him. "You're still young. Your back pain can't be that bad."
"Arthur is younger than me. Shouldn't he be sitting in this chair then?" Charles tries to get out of it, but he falls silent when Pascale gives him a dirty look.
"But I don't have a girlfriend who can rub my back later," grins the youngest Leclerc. "I'm sure she won't mind."
"Arthur!" Pascale reprimands him. Her gaze shifts to you. "I'm so sorry. I thought I'd brought her up better." She puts her head in her hands.
"Oh, Maman." Charles gets up from his uncomfortable stool and you can tell by the way he looks that his back is actually hurting. He stands behind his mother and puts his hands on her shoulders. "We know you did your best. And we actually turned out well." He can barely suppress his grin. "Except for Arthur."
"Hey!" Arthur jumps up from his chair so quickly that you fear he's going to fall over backwards, but Charlotte just manages to catch it. Arthur chases his big brother around the room while Enzo stacks up the ice cream bowls to take them to the kitchen.
"Wait, I'll help you," you offer, reaching for the cutlery that has been left behind, but Pascale's hand on yours stops you in your tracks.
"If you lift a finger, the same thing will happen to it as with Enzo's fingers at Monopoly," she threatens lovingly and gets up to clear away the rest of the things herself.
You look at Charlotte uncertainly and she waves you off. "Don't worry about it. She doesn't mean any harm. She just wants you to feel comfortable here and make sure you have everything you need. You'll get used to it over time."
"Thank you," you reply with a smile. "I think if you weren't so nice to me, I'd be really scared of you."
The blonde has to laugh. "Unfortunately, I hear that a lot. But I know what it's like to be new to this family. It can be quite nerve-wracking and overwhelming. But they're all lovely people. You don't need to worry about that." She puts her hand on yours briefly before rising and joining her husband in the kitchen.
A short time later, you feel two large hands on your shoulders. "Are you all right?" Charles asks as you lean your head back to look at him. "My family didn't scare you off, did they? Or are you sick of it and don't want anything to do with me anymore?"
"A terrible family," you reply and feel his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your skin. You feel warm.
"I can understand," he nods and leans down towards you so that the tips of your noses touch. "So that's the last time we'll see everyone. I definitely prefer your company to that of the others."
You have to stifle a giggle. "You're only saying that because you're hoping to get a back massage from me as soon as we get home." Your mouth goes dry at the thought of running your hands over his muscular back and feeling the soft skin under your fingertips.
"You're right about that," he admits. "Shall we go? I've had to share you with my family long enough."
"You want to leave already?" asks Pascale, who has rejoined you at the table. You didn't even realize she was back until she started talking.
"Yes, maman. My back really hurts and we have a lot to do tomorrow," he apologizes. It's news to you that you have plans. But maybe it's just an excuse so that you can be alone again more quickly. And you definitely have no objections to that.
Friends, sure.
"All right." She puts her hands on her hips. "But I'll expect you both back here at Christmas. I'll prepare your old room so you can spend the night here." Her smile is warm and heartfelt. As you get up from your chair to say goodbye to her, she wraps you tightly in her arms. "It's so nice that you're part of our family now. I'm already looking forward to having you back here at Christmas. It's only a few more days until then."
"Thank you for your invitation." You return her hug. "I haven't felt like part of a family for a long time."
Apparently she sees something in your gaze, something sad, because she has to swallow before she starts speaking again. "We've been through a lot as a family - and I think you have too. You're always welcome here. No matter what happens. Even if you need someone to be there for you in the middle of the night. The doors of this house are always open to you." She blinks away a few tears and you briefly consider hugging her again.
Which you finally do. "Your family is wonderful. You've raised three great sons. If your husband was anywhere near as kind-hearted as they turned out to be, then he must have been the most lovable person in the world," you whisper to her.
"He would have loved you. I'm sure of it." As she breaks away from you, she wipes her eyes once. "Thank you for looking after my son. There's no denying how good you are for him."
As if on cue, Charles stands next to you and puts his arm around your waist to pull you close. You feel his body heat, the pressure of his fingers on your skin.
After this morning, you had been unsure whether you would ever be so close again despite the misstep, or whether you would keep your distance because the situation would be awkward for people who are actually just friends. But Charles' smile is genuine, his gaze gentle and his lips soft as he presses them lovingly to your forehead.
"She's the absolute best thing that could have happened to me."
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withwritersblock · 3 days
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Think Later
~think later by Tate McRae~
Author's Note: Requested! I love this song so mf much Summary: Jack and Luke's sister is in town to visit when she finds a different Devil's player more interesting Warnings: implied smut, a very brief mention of toxic relationships Word Count: 1,585 Nico Hischer vs. Hughes fm!reader
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Jack pulled his gear from his shoulders, letting out a huff of air. The team had beaten the Bruins in a 4-2 win. Where he scored two goals. He was excited to get out of the locker room because his older sister was in town. Her flight landed an hour before the game started, she barely had to time to go to Jack’s apartment and drop her bag off. 
“You guys going to Jerry’s?” Nico asked. It was bar and restaurant that the team liked to go to after they won games. Or even after horrible losses. Jack shot a look towards Luke across the room. Luke took a deep breath.
“Our sister is in town, she might want to just go home,” Jack offered. Nico perked upward, a smirk toyed to his lips. 
It was safe to say, he has crushed on Y/N since the first time he met her. It was during Jack’s rookie season, she stayed with Jack for a few weeks. Jack was struggling emotionally for a lot of his rookie year, and having his older sister in town was simply enough to help him get through it. 
“Don’t even think about it,” Jack pointed towards Nico. The locker room was pretty empty at this point, most of the guys had showered and left already. Luke furrowed his eyebrows harshly as he whipped his head around. 
“I wasn’t-” Nico started but Luke interrupted.
“She just got out of a relationship,” Luke let out as he walked towards Nico. 
“I said I wasn’t thinking about it,” Nico defended as he ran his fingers through his hair, “I’m gonna hit the showers,” Nico continued as he had a small smirk on his lips. 
It took another twenty minutes before both Jack and Luke left the locker room to see their older sister Y/N waiting for them. Luke smiled widely as he quickly made his way towards her. She gladly opened her arms for her youngest brother. 
She was technically the oldest. She was older than Quinn by twelve minutes. A fact she constantly reminded Quinn of. She was the only Hughes kid that lacked any interest in hockey, other than her brothers playing. She was a theatre kid, which was a complete one-eighty to what her parents childhoods were like. Her brothers were always more than supported. 
She felt teary-eyed as she engulfed her younger brother in a tight hug. This was the first time she saw Luke play in person in the Devils jersey. Her ex-boyfriend was a really difficult guy and wouldn’t let her travel on her own. He never wanted to spend the money to travel, so she never went to see the games. She was tightly wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. 
“Good job, Lukey Boy,” she let out as she pulled away meeting his eye. He smiled softly as he blinked away his own tears in his eye. She moved away from Luke towards Jack. “What a game, J,” she mumbled as she hugged him tightly. 
“Thanks, how are you feeling? Up for Jerry’s?” he said as he pulled away, his eyes slightly teary. She nodded dramatically. 
“Oh god, my rich brothers buying me drinks all night? How could I say no?” she asked as she stared walking towards the parking garage, blindly hoping they’d show her where Luke’s car was.
~~ 
They stepped into Jerry’s to see the entire bar was the team and their partners. The three of them walked towards the bar. Nico was sitting alone, nursing a beer as he kept his gaze on the TV screen replaying their game. It was in the middle of the first period. Jack patted on his shoulder, pulling his attention towards him. 
“Nico, you remember our sister, Y/N!” he let out loudly, over the noise of the bar. Nico met Jack’s eye for a second before he turned his gaze towards Y/N. Her eyes widened slightly as she met his gaze. The smirk on her lips quickly went away as fast as it appeared. Jack gave him a visual warning, a small head shake. “I’m gonna get us drinks, Lukey what do you want?” Jack shifted his attention towards Luke. 
“Nico, it’s nice to meet you again,” she offered as she stood beside him, close enough their arms could touch at any moment. He turned his gaze towards her, his heart beating hard against his chest.
“You too, Y/N,” he licked his lip as he shifted his gaze towards Jack and Luke behind her. 
“What do you want?” Jack asked smacking his hand against her back. She jolted suddenly, looking towards the bartender.
“Tequila soda extra lime, please,” she expressed. The bartender nodded as he began to work.
“Are you sure? Tequila may not-”
“Jack,” she scolded. He nodded reluctantly as he leaned against the bartop. Over his entire life, he knew to never argue with his older sister. She was feisty and could easily ruin him. She turned her gaze back towards Nico.
He never once looked away from her features. He couldn’t focus, he couldn’t breath as she was so stunning. She knew it too. The second she met Nico’s gaze, she pursed her lips forward. She tried to not smile. 
“Bold choice,” Nico muttered as he lowered his gaze towards her lips. They were glossed with a red color. She shrugged slightly. 
“Boring choice,” she pointed towards the beer in his hand. Nico dropped his head, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Trying to act all tough in front of your teammates?”
“I don’t need to try, I am,” he never wavered eye contact as he brought his beer towards his lips. He took a small sip. 
The bartender slid the tequila soda towards her. She smiled politely towards the bartender as she brought the glass towards her lips. Taking a sip, it tasted perfect.
“At least my drink has flavor,” she mumbled as she took another sip. Jack and Luke got their beers and were long gone, didn’t want to stay to witness Nico hit on their sister. Or even worse, their sister play along.
“It has flavor,” he defended, taking a sip of the beer. Cringing at the taste, her eyes widened as she chuckled. He smiled, “Didn’t say good flavor,”  
She leaned towards him, sliding her glass over, “Go ahead, try it,” she expressed. He clenched his jaw as he reluctantly placed his beer down. He hesitantly took a hold of the short glass. “Come on it’s so good,” she offered as she delicately rested her hand onto his forearm. He smirked towards her as he took a small sip. He quickly pulled his face away, his face scrunch together.
“Oh that’s awful,” he barely got out. 
“Oh come on!” she groaned out as she pulled the glass towards her, “You’re joking,” she let out. He shook his head, quickly pulling beer towards his lips.
“No, that was horrible,”
It had been an hour since she showed up to the bar, and it was pretty obvious that her and Nico were into one another. Jack would show up between them every so often, trying to shut down whatever was happening but it wasn’t working. 
“You know, I’m not supposed to be talking to you,” Nico let out as he tilted his head to the side. He scraped at the label of his beer bottle. She squinted her eyes slightly.
“Why’s that?” she pulled her lip gloss from her front pocket and slowly started applying it to her lips. 
“Jack doesn’t want me involved with you,” he let out. She rolled her eyes dramatically. 
“He can’t control who I talk to, or who I get involved with,” she explained confidently. She shoved her lip gloss back into her pocket as she hopped off the stool. She seductively ran her hand across his arm, slowly gripping his bicep. 
“I live across the street,” he mumbled as he lowered his gaze towards her lips. She nodded as she slowly ran her hand down his arm again, interlocking her fingers with his. 
“I just got out of a bad relationship,” she explained, meeting his gaze, “Bad in more ways than one,” she let out. Hoping he caught on. He nodded as he cleared his throat. 
“Come on,” he mumbled as he stood up from his stool, guiding her towards the bar exit. Y/N’s met Luke’s gaze from across the bar.
He tried to hold in his laughter as he watched Nico drag Y/N out of the bar. Luke smacked his hand against Jack’s arm. Jack and Dawson both shifted their gaze towards Luke. “Caps hooking up with our sister,” he let out, subtly pointing towards Y/N stepping out of the bar. He started laughing. Dawson tried to keep his laughter inside as he saw Jack’s angry expression.
“That motherfuc-”
Nico continued guiding Y/N across the street towards his apartment complex. They stepped into the lobby, he nodded towards the receptionist as he walked towards the elevator. He pressed the up button multiple times. 
“Think once is enough,” she whispered. He rolled his eyes playfully as the doors opened. He took a hold of her waist, pulling her inside. 
“Once is never enough,” he muttered as he pressed the button to his floor. He quickly guided her towards the back of the elevator, devouring her lips in the process.
“Oh my god,” she mumbled against his lips as she ran her fingers through the ends of his hair.
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lowkeyren · 2 days
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incandescent feelings overflow!
in which — you found yourself “forced” to dance with a man that delights in outmaneuvering you at every turn / you (really) hate aventurine
pairing — aventurine x fem!reader (no pronouns used but reader is mentioned to be wearing a gown once, otherwise it’s still written w gn reader in mind, tagging fem js incase)
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆  — wc: 1.4k, enemies to lovers but it’s js forced prox w tension, denial is a river in egypt, silly aven calling you love every other sentence, anyway reblogs are much appreciated! please enjoy <3
based on this!
you have every reason to despise aventurine. ever since you first crossed paths, he has been nothing but a constant source of frustration and irritation. It isn’t just his smug demeanor or his irritating charm— it’s the way he seems to take pleasure in ruining everything you work for.
it's as if fate’s playing a cruel joke on you, your encounters never stopped. each time, it feels like being dragged into a twisted dance orchestrated by some malevolent force. and in every dance, aventurine was always one step ahead, always ready to trip you up and leave you stumbling in his wake. you’ve always vowed to turn the tables; to become the one who led the dance, who stayed ahead of the game.
but just when you think you have him figured out, he throws you off balance with those vexingly sweet pet names. "love," one of his favourites. his voice dripping with honeyed charm; a calculated move, specifically designed to distract you. and despite your best efforts to resist, you find yourself unable to ignore the stirring of something within you.
aventurine, this name, like the man it belongs to, fills you with a seething, visceral hatred that coils in the pit of your stomach like a venomous serpent. it doesn't make it better that tonight you actually have to dance with him.
you move through the crowd, searching for him even as you try to appear disinterested. then you see him, standing tall and confident, his gaze meeting yours across the room. he makes his way towards you, and you find yourself holding your breath.
“we meet again…” he says, stretching his hand out, offering a handshake as if this is a cordial reunion between old friends.
you stare at his outstretched hand, feeling a surge of indignation rising within you. he’s acting so nonchalant after everything he’s done. every fiber of your being screams at you to refuse, to turn on your heel and walk away, to show him that you will no longer be drawn into his twisted games.
though despite your better judgement, you find yourself hesitating. aventurine’s hand hangs in the air, waiting for your response, and for a moment, you're frozen in place, torn between your pride and the inevitability of the situation.
with a sigh, you finally relent, placing your hand in his with a forced politeness that belies the turmoil raging beneath the surface.
whatever. this will be a great chance to get some information out of him anyway. (you convince yourself)
aventurine holds a firm grip, his touch sending a shiver down your spine; and you can't help but resent the way he seems to revel in your discomfort.
tonight may be a seemingly innocent dance, but it's one you refuse to lose. and if he thinks he can best you with a simple handshake, he's sorely mistaken. you’ve prepared for this moment meticulously, concealing a dagger beneath your gown as a precaution. you knew aventurine would be here, and you anticipated the dance that would inevitably follow. 
just as you’re lost in your thoughts, he catches you off guard by retracting his hand, pulling you close. almost stumbling over your feet, you find yourself drawn into his embrace, his arms encircling you as he leads you onto the dance floor. as if on cue, the tempo picks up, and a hush falls over the crowd, the sound of whispered conversations fading into the background, all eyes turning to the dance floor. there's a palpable tension in the air, but you ignore it as the rhythm of the dance carries you away.
“so, mr aventurine, what brings you here? surely it's not just to exchange pleasantries.” you ask as you stare into his eyes, trying to gauge his intentions.
“oh drop the formalities love, you truly wound me…” he replies teasingly, dragging out the endearment with a smirk.
you roll your eyes and ignore the way he completely disregards your initial question, opting to save the interrogation for later. there's a strange sort of chemistry between you, if you can even call it that —an undeniable tension that defies explanation, even as you find yourself effortlessly matching his rhythm, and his movements to yours, a natural fluidity.
aventurine’s eyes, sweet like honey, yet always so keen and calculating; now holds a spark of amusement as he meets your eyes once more. his penetrating gaze seems to delve into the depths of your soul, studying you as if he's attempting to peel back the layers of your defenses, and you stare back, matching his intensity, determined to uncover the truth hidden beneath his carefully constructed facade. 
he spins you gracefully across the floor, barbed words exchange silently between you as you move in perfect synchronisation. as he pulls you closer, your bodies brush against each other, his expression shifts. there's a flicker of surprise in his eyes but it's swiftly replaced by a widening smile. he feels the cold metal of the dagger strapped to your thigh pressing against his leg. aventurine’s grip on your waist tightens, he leans down, his warm breath caresses your ear.
“is this a surprise for me?”, his voice a low murmur that sends a tingling sensation coursing through your body.
“maybe.” you try to keep your tone cool despite the warmth radiating from his proximity making it increasingly difficult to catch your breath. he raises an eyebrow seemingly challenging you, "at least wait ‘til the song ends, love."
the air is suffusing with the intoxicating scent of his cologne, enveloping you, trapping you with him. you’ve always tried to keep him at arm's length, but somehow he finds his way by your side; his presence suffocating, his touch burning against your skin. 
“don’t call me that, it’s annoying.” you retort, words coming out sharper than you intended. though you can’t deny the subtle flutter in your chest, and quickening of your pulse that betrays the effect his endearment has on you.
“alright sweetheart, as you wish.” (you want to punch a hole through his face)
as the night comes to an end, aventurine reluctantly releases you from his grasp, his fingers lingering for just a moment longer. it’s a subtle gesture, but one that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. executing a bow with his eyes still locked onto yours; you curtsey in return, the intensity of his gaze weighing on you as you straighten up.
just as you remember the question you were supposed to ask him after the dance, he interrupts your thoughts by bringing your hand to his lips, the touch of his kiss a brief, searing contact; imprinting the sensation of his touch upon you before he releases your hand. 
“until next time”, his words carrying both promise and threat. you cast one last glance into his mesmerizing eyes, hoping to glean something behind them, but to no avail, you find only your own reflection staring back at you.
the sounds of the bustling ballroom gradually seep back into your awareness, laughters and chatters of other guests filling the air around you. returned to your senses, you hurriedly glance around, searching for any sign of him amidst the crowd, but he has vanished without a trace. as if he was never there at all, leaving you to wonder if the encounter was nothing more than a figment of your imagination. you shake your head, attempting to dispel the shroud of confusion that clouds your thoughts. 
(unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes remain fixed on you from the shadows for the rest of the night. hidden in the dimness, his captivation is made obvious by his unwavering gaze and subtle smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips.)
tonight, you found yourself caught in a dance with a man that delights in outmaneuvering you at every turn, who was as captivating as he was dangerous, and you can’t help but wonder when might be your next rendezvous.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆  masterlist
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adore-laur · 3 days
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Hii I love your writing ! Idk if you’re still taking dadrry requests but I’d love to see how he’d react to one of his girls being super picky with food and how he deals with that ! Like him making a bunch of meals for his baby hoping she’ll like it :’)
——
Now that his youngest was able to eat solid foods at six months old, Harry took it upon himself to introduce her to the wonderful world of fruits and vegetables. While it might have been easier and more convenient to purchase jars of mediocre mashed baby food from the store, Harry was a chef and wanted to expand his culinary capabilities. And maybe impress you just a little bit. You were slowly weaning from breastfeeding, and he wanted to show his appreciation for your relentless nourishment. Keeping his babies alive and healthy made him forever indebted to you. His favorite way to repay you was by cooking whatever meal your heart desired and making sure your belly was full.
It was eleven a.m. when Harry got started on making lunch. You were out of the house with your eldest at her weekly swimming lesson and were due to arrive home shortly. He was hoping you didn't stop for lunch on the way back since he was planning on making the whole family lunch once he satiated his babbling baby girl seated in her high chair.
After mulling over potential recipes, he decided on something simple—baked pears and a side of steamed zucchini made into a purée. He got to washing and slicing the three pears he nabbed from the roadside farmers market downtown, all while listening to the mourning doves coo and the waves lapping the shore outside the open window. He fell into a tranquil state of cooking, his muscles on autopilot when handling knives, bowls, and pans. It was second nature to him—his favorite pastime next to hanging out with his girls.
Once the pears were baking in the oven, Harry whipped up the zucchini purée. He chopped one up, placed the pieces in a saucepan, and then seasoned them before steaming the pale green vegetable for ten minutes. In the meantime, he lifted his baby girl from her high chair and snuggled her close while the sweet aroma of his cooking concoction swirled in the air. She was getting bigger every day, and it snapped his heart into little pieces. Pretty soon, she'd be crawling around the house with curiosity. She was already teething and mimicking sounds. Laughing and putting toys in her mouth. And while those milestones filled him with an enormous amount of pride, he couldn't help but realize how short-lived they were.
When the oven timer beeped, Harry sat his baby girl on his hip and carefully took the glass dish of pears out with a hot pad. They were golden brown, which made his stomach grumble. He set them on the stovetop and flicked the heat off for the zucchini. He needed both hands for the next step, but he really didn't want to stop holding his baby, whose wispy hair smelled like the lavender shampoo he used during her bath time last night. She was awake and in a slightly cranky mood because of teething. The only thing he could do to alleviate the irritable pain she was experiencing was to offer his knuckle as a soothing thing to gnaw until he found the time to order a teething toy. He was unconcerned with the drool and dull ache caused by her. This wasn't his first rodeo.
It was actually why you had started to wean earlier than you did with your first child. You mentioned breastfeeding was uncomfortable enough, and adding teeth to the mix was even more unpleasant. He wholeheartedly supported your decision and made it his mission to never have you stress over cooking separate meals for two babies and yourself. It was part of his lifelong repayment.
While the pears and zucchini cooled, Harry rummaged through the living room in search of the baby sling—also known as the greatest invention for multitasking parents. And dads who couldn't get enough of holding their babies. Guilty, he thought to himself.
Once he located it under a pile of princess dresses, he put it on and wrapped his baby nice and snugly in the fabric. Then he went back to the kitchen and used his two free hands to grab the food processor from the corner cabinet. Setting it on the island, he brought over the zucchini and poured them in before pressing the purée setting. The grating noise startled the baby, and Harry gently bounced in place while covering her tiny ears.
Mushy green slop was the result after he turned off the loud device. It wasn't necessarily appetizing to him, but the way his daughter was making grabby hands at it made him proud of his very own baby food creation. He opened the silverware drawer and grabbed a silicone spoon. He dipped it into the purée and then held up a small serving to her awaiting mouth.
"This is zucchini," Harry said, sincerely hoping she'd like it. "It's good for your bones and digestive system. Now, you have to tell Daddy what you think. This is a trial run to find out what you like." He delicately stuck the spoon in her open mouth and watched her slowly remember how to chew. Her rosebud lips smacked together as some purée slid down her chin. Babies were cute when they ate, but boy did they make a mess. Her expression didn't give anything away, but the way she was spitting out everything that was on the spoon sure did.
"All right," he whispered, a bit disappointed. "That’s okay. Zucchini's not for everyone."
Her chubby fist reached up and landed on his neck, no doubt protesting for better food. He couldn't help but laugh at the green smears bordering his adorable daughter's mouth. Taking his phone out, he captured a couple of pictures and sent them to you before wiping the mess with a paper towel. He made a mental note to also order bibs—another sign that she was growing up too quickly. God, it wounded him. He might have to ask for a third baby after all.
Harry walked over to the stovetop and picked up a warm, baked pear slice. Using his teeth, he tore off half a chunk for himself and guided the other one into her mouth. He had to help her chew this time since the consistency was more solid than the purée. His thumb and forefinger held her jaw as he gently moved it up and down. His baby's beautiful eyes stared at him, entranced by his face so close. He stared right back at her, admiring all the parts that were him and you. Day by day, she looked a little more like you, and he was ecstatic about it. His genes might've been strong in the newborn stage, but they stood no chance against the potent beauty of yours.
There was nary a complaint when she swallowed the piece of pear. None at all until Harry got her another, and as soon as it touched her lips, she burst into tears and pushed his hand away like it was the absolute last thing she wanted in front of her.
"Not even pears?" Harry said, equal parts humored and defeated. "You're going to be a picky little eater, aren't you? Just like your sister."
With a sense of mild failure sitting in his chest, he opted to feed her a bottle of breastmilk in the refrigerator until you got home. Your motherly instincts would surely help him figure out her palate. Even though he was a chef and understood everyone's acquired tastes, it was his daughter who was unimpressed with his skills.
Eating the rest of the pears and the bland zucchini purée, he laughed to himself. His girls kept him on his toes, but he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
——
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k-aay · 2 days
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DATING SATORU GOJO
୨୧ synopsis - how I think it would  be like to date with the strongest  ft. satoru gojo a.n - comment who you'd like to see this trope with next !! i do not proof-read my work, please don't judge ! any pictures used in this post are not mine !!
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LAZY MORNINGS 
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- Trying to get away from him in the morning is like trying to escape a top security prison without getting caught, this prison being way more enjoyable though. 
- He would throw every single limb of his body onto yours to prevent you from leaving him alone in bed and it works every single time. He takes it as far as to hugging you from behind, koala style. 
- Whines when you don't agree to stay in with him by the time he's still cuddling with you. "No, y/n! Stayyyyyy!" Even stoops low to the "If you don't stay in bed with me, you don't love me anymore!" If you leave, it's likely that he'd give you silent treatment for as long as he can: two whole minutes. 
- He's in love with cuddling with you and there's nothing you could do about it. 
WEEKLY SHOPPING TRIPS
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- Takes you shopping often as a way to relieve stress for the two of you after a long week for the both of you (he also loves spoiling you and has the money for it). 
- Encourages you to spend as much as you need to since it won't put in the slightest dent in his bank account and he's not ashamed to mention it multiple times. Smacks your hand when you try to check the price tag and tells you that it doesn't matter. 
- Enables you to the fullest when your shopping. Holds your bags, suggests outfits or clothing that he thinks would look good on you and so on. It turns into a mini fashion show in the making. 
- Ends the day off with a lot of food you both have been craving. 
DATES WITH HIM
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- Two types of dates he would pull off depending on your mood;
- First: He would take you to expensive restauarants and would rent out the entire thing you both can have it all to yourselves. As you say that "it's too much," he'd shrug it off because he thinks you deserve the best. 
- Second: You both would stay in and play board games. This man is competitive as hell and does NOT like to lose. He'd bend the rules to his liking as much as he can to reassure his chances of winning. Most of the time, it doesn't work as you catch on quickly which leads to a lot of petty feuds. 
- It doesn't matter which one it is, as long as he's spending time with you, he doesn't mind. 
HOW HE SHOWS HIS LOVE
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- LOVES to tease you as much as humanly possible. Whether it's a typo while your texting or when he finds a funny picture of you. He loves seeing your different reactions as he's teasing you. 
- Drags you into the stupid shit that goes through in his head. like helping him prank people, getting in trouble and having fun in general. he loves that he could be himself and share his ideas of fun with you even if it's stupid.
- Very open about your relationship. He doesn't care if it's a stranger, he's bringing it up constantly that he has an amazing partner. Literally does not mind PDA to the slightest, he loves it so much. He loves showing you off in general. Definitely the type to wear an I <3 MY GIRLFRIEND shirt in public
- Steals your stuff even if he has his own. Steals things like a bite of your food, your clothes and even your toothbrush (that one just to piss you off). But when it comes to you taking his things, he whines a little and then gives in. 
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makuzume · 1 day
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Toge Accidentally Uses His Cursed Speech on You [SMAU + Story]
🔅Content: angst, injury, s2 spoilers, gn! reader, implied relationship, mentions of death (civilians), slight cursing, Shibuya trauma
🔅Synopsis: After the events of the Shibuya Incident, you haven't heard from Toge ever since. You decided to go to him but the both of you get into an arguement and out of frustration... he spoke.
🔅a/n: This is essentially a "PART 2." Read [Texting Them During the Shibuya Incident] for better context and setting the mood
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🔅Toge Inumaki🔅
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🔅Word Count: 3.3K words
....
You jumped off of the stone wall, trying to gently land over some of bushes, trying your best to absorb most the shock onto your healed leg. However, the pouring rain caused the soil beneathe you to turn into wet mud, causing you to lose your balance and immediately slip upon landing.
You slightly winced, hurt as your whole body fell further into the ground, failing to protect your broken leg from receiving zero pain.
'I deserved that' you thought to yourself. Afterall, there was no one else to blame this accident on other than you.
You came here on your own accord, jumping over a wall no one told you to, who else would have been responsible? 'Maybe Toge, if only he had sent just one text message explaining himself', you thought to yourself in your defense. But still, you honestly can't bring yourself to blame him, afterall, you figured he's been going through so much right now.
From the window, Toge saw your failed attempt at a perfect landing, and without a second thought, he quickly stood up and put on his robe, immediately hurrying to tie the knot closed, rushing to get to you.
Instinctively, he went to reach for both strings of the robe, but it was only when he couldn't feel the soft, towel-like strips of one of fabrics did a sudden realization hit him:
His arm. He only had one arm now.
It was another instance for him to be reminded that he had lost a part of his body: a horrible mark of the events in Shibuya, a memory of all the lives he wasn't able to save, a reminder of all the friends he had failed to protect....
A sickening darkness grew at the pit of his stomach once more as he recalled all those horrible memories.... it was the same awful feeling he'd been experiencing these past few days while he was all alone, trapped in his room, and never even having a second's worth of peace.
Shaking his head, he pushed away those thoughts for the time being and just let the robe loosly hang over him, his only arm going inside one of the sleeves.
Toge was still not used to how to maneauver his body right now, so much so that he still has to even remind himself from time to time about the new state of his physical appearance.
He hurried out of his room and into the garden, little splashes from the puddles staining his legs on the way. When he reached you, you open your eyes, taking your attention off of the pain you felt in your leg to find Toge hovering over you.
Surprised you were when you first laid eyes on him. He was wearing his robe open to you, allowing it to show all the dark bruises, scars, and thick bandages covering his bare upper torso. It was a painful sight to see.
Other than the appearance of his physical condition, he looked awful, emotionally. The bags under his eyes becoming evidence for his lack of sleep while his pupils showed a loss of light in them. His expression was exhausted, and his aura was different- not like the usual playful and relaxed Toge you once knew.
Seeing him as he stood in front of you now.... it felt like he was a different person, and you were taken aback for a moment because of it.
"...Mustard leaf?" His voice was dry and his tone low- more empty of life.... but he still somehow manage to speak with just a bit of genuine concern as his eyebrows expressed slight hints of sadness and worry.
His form slowly crouched down, mildly struggling to bend downward himself from all the injuries he had on his side.
Using his only arm and his body as a support for you, he helped you stand up. You were able to feel him struggle slightly, Toge's body slightly more unsteady and frail as the both of you walked- His breath quietly quivering with each step, and he would take a sharp inhale of air every time you leaned just a little too much on him as he helped carry you over to the nearest gazeebo.
You felt bad for making him lift you... for making him drenched along with you.
Regardless, even if you refused, no way would Toge leave you alone in the rain, all sad and pitiful.
Despite the fact that he had been ignoring you for days, his actions now had served as a reminder that he did in fact still cared about you, you took note.
Yes, there had been a bit of akward tension with the current situation the both of you were in, but he would never even dare of becoming so uncaring and hurt your feelings to do anything like that
...right?
Toge was trying to carefully set your body down on one of the benches, mildly challenged as he did so while keeping his gaze low.
Perhaps he was embarassed that he's not used to maneuvering around with a missing arm just yet, or he's embarassed at the fact you came all this way and somehow endded up getting hurt just because he never replied to you.
You felt small stinging sensations underneathe your cast as you were as you gently settle on your seat, slighthly gripping your fist to hold back the pain you felt in your right leg.
You spoke up, a bit embarassed "... sorry... for making you come out like this..." A quiet moment passed before he responded by shaking his head gently, lightly waving off his hand as he gestured a polite 'don't mind it'.
It was silent, only the sounds emitting noise being the rain hitting the soil and the droplets trippling the roof above you.
"Salmon roe." Softly, he spoke, and you slowly drove your gaze towards him, his eyes looking at you seriously. With slow movements, he gently gestured towards the house, then towards the garage, then at you. Your eyes furrow at the action, understanding what he wanted to comunicate despite lacking the use of words.
"...No, I don't want to be taken back to the school after a shower." You said quietly, a slightly stubborn attitude taking over as you look away in disagreement. But this wasn't a good time to argue. He absolutely wasn't in the mood to bicker and wanted to get away from anything and everything stressful adding to his plate.
He gestured again to the house, then at the garage but a bit more sternly, to which you reply a cold hard refusal.
"...No." in an equally stern attitude, you stated, a slight glimpse of sorrow seeping through your voice as you look down "....I'm not going."
Toge showed hints of frustration, his expression a bit more irritated but also trying his best to retain his composure towards you, but his emotions were beginning to get the best of him once more.
It wasn't like Toge at all: Toge who was always so patient and calm... what exactly changed him since Shibuya? One can't help but wonder what were all the things a person had seen to make him act so different.
"Toge. Look at you. You were already gone for DAYS and not talking to ANYBODY" You gestured towards his body then at his face worriedly "You're thinner and lost the hope you had in your eyes... what happened to you..? What did you see...?" You spoke with worry. "it's scary to think what else you're going through while you coop yourself up in that room by yourself...."
He remained quiet, understanding where you're coming from.
It did make him feel a bit bad, suddenly leaving everyone to find out for themselves what was happening to him. But he figured that everyone was probably having their own mental breakdowns during this time as well, so maybe they need some time to process it too-... or that's what he wanted to believe the case to be.
In truth, he just wanted to rot and drown in his own suffering alone.
You were his best possible source of comfort, and he never even given himself the choice to be consoled by you. In fact, you were the last person he wanted to be with right now.
He didn't deserve your affectionate gazes, your gentle touches, your soft voice, your reassuring words... he knew you would be the gateway to end his suffering... but that's the thing, he refused this comfort willingly, he doesn't want this depressing feleing to end.
Toge let himself sulk in his own misery, torturing himself. All because he believes he deserves it.
"Toge, I know it's just horrible, everything. It's absolute bullshit.. But I hope staying quiet here for days had given you the time you needed to be by yourself.... staying alone in your room any longer might do more damage to you than you think."
You were right, he thought. But it didn't matter to him.
He wanted to drown in suffering, hoping one day he may never wake up from it.
But that would mean escaping his own sins- so he always found himself needing to take back what he said mentally, remembering to endure the twisted thoughts seeping into his mind.
"Toge... I saw their bodies too... some of them, at least... When they took some of them back to the hospital... Our friends..." your voice spoke weakly, almost as if it was about to break as you lightly tremble.
You weren't there, and you felt bad about it. The most you could've done was helping in treating the survivors with your amateur use of Reversed Curse Technique while listening to their horrific experiences.
"... I can't unsee it... though... it made me think about you... I can't ever imagine what it must've been like for you in there." With a shakey breath, you whispered, trying to even comprehend the scenes he must've witness or the weight of responsibility Toge must be pinning on himself.
Suddenly, a wave of flashing images enter Toge's mind as if a slideshow started playing. The memories were accompanied by the same sinking and gut wretching feeling he had during that night, the same feeling he thought he was able to surpress well enough these past few days for it to never re-emerge again.
You lifted your head towards him, a knowing look and spoke with s worried tone. "Toge... whatever happened to the civilians in Shibuya was not your fault."
Your sudden choice of words had taken him aback.
'You heard what happened?' He first thought to himself, but then an immediate tightness was present in his chest and his breath had gotten caught in his throat.
'That's wrong.'
'It was my fault.'
'I led them there.'
'All the civilian's deaths were because I led them there. All of them.'
He didn't want you to know, he prayed you wouldn't find out.
There was so much shame that he felt whenever he would remember that he was the cause for leading so many people to their deaths.
He felt so much shame that he couldn't even dare face you, which was another reason why he's been pushing you away for days on end.
"...I can't imagine what you must've felt, but I know it was horrible." You said, speaking with such a pained and concerned voice.
You understood how this might've made Toge feel, and you knew he would be blaming himself for all the unpredictable deaths of those innocent lives that were caught up in Sukuna's attack... which is why you made the effort to be there for him.
"...n..."
His voice hitched quietly, his mind whispering for you to stop. His breathing got heavier as if the air suddenly thickened; His jaw lightly trembling as he remembered.
Everything else around him becoming mere background noise to him, his awareness to his surroundingsfading. He couldn't think straight.
You noticed his sudden shift in behavior, his previous stoic and serious demeanor disappearing. His body was tensed and his expression stiff, terrified even.
"....s...to..."
It was barely audible, and all you could hear was a low and shakey grunt.
"What...?" Was all you could reply, unable to hear his quiet whispers.
"....n...o."
Once more, he silently whispered.
Concerned, you slowly began reaching for him, ever so gently touching his arm with the tips of your fingers to ease him, to ease his nerves, however, it only did quite the opposite.
At the moment, he only felt your touch, every other one of his senses drowning into nothigness. The moment your hand glazed the skin of his arm, the memories suddenly flooded his mind. The deaths of civillians, the transfigurations, the sorcerers getting killed... It was all too much for him. Too much.
Overwhelmed, he did the unthinkable. Suddenly...
"G..."
He spoke.
"..GET AWAY FROM ME" Toge yelled, quickly retracting his arm away from you by instinct.
With that being said, the curse fulfilled the command.
The next thing you knew, you felt yourself harshly sent flying from one end to the other, across the entire backyard of the clan's abode.
It didn't feel like it was just a gust of wind like you had imagined, no. It felt like suddenly being struck by a train at high speed or hitting the concrete after falling from a building the second the curse was activated.
Toge's eyes widened and immediately snapped towards your direction when he heard the sound of your voice screaming as you were being thrown.
It didn't help that your instincts came at the worst possible time. In a pitiful attempt to lessen the impact of the fall, you allowed your body to make use of its training, instinctively posing the way you were always taught to land while sparring with Maki and the others.
Though you forgot to take into consideration the handicap you had at the moment, and unfortunately for you, your feet would need to be the first to hit the ground with the stance you thought could protect you best.
It was a big mistake- The fall absorbed all the shock which injected itself onto your already broken leg.
You released a scream, but you still couldn't stop the landing just yet. As the force of the throw continued to push you forward, you end up rolling for a few more meters before abruptly hitting the wall on the other side of the garden. Your senses numbed for a moment and your vision blurred; Your mind was disoriented, but your heart was crushed.
It was fucked, your leg, that's what you were sure of. Not even your level of healing could save this one, bitterly you thought as you tried your best to use your reverse cursed technique to at least lessen the pain.
Shock overwhelmed Toge- it would've had him frozen in place but his insticts made him disregard all his negative thoughts and sprint towards you faster than he had the time to even register what had just happened.
Once he reached you, he quickly crouched down, not caring about the pain he felt as he did so, observing your current state, his mind clouded with shame.
He hated himself. Every fiber of his being hated himself for hurting you. He felt disgusted over his cursed speech for ever doing this to someone as kind, understanding, and loving as you.
Everything Toge had ever feared to do... ever since he was young....
He let this happen again... to someone he loved.
For a moment, Toge was a bit relieved to see you still able to move... but the overpowering amount of guilt still filled him to the core.
He wanted to call out your name, but stopped himself for a second as he took the time to think if it was a 'safe word' to say that wouldn't activate his curse again. Afterall, he's already done so much damage of using it just once on you.
"Y-.... y/...n...." anxiously and hoarsly he spoke, his voice low, unsure on how to approach the situation.
With his hand reaching out to you, hesitantly he spoke again "...y/n."
Very slightly, your body gently back away from his reach, a sign he immediately took to back away from you: You didn't want him to get near you. Were you scared of him? Did you hate him? Had he broken your trust?
As your mind began to defog, you sat up slowly, bit by bit regaining more of your vision again. The pain was slowly seeing in more to your broken leg as you gripped the upper part of your cast, grinding your teeth, and silently trembling. Toge could only watch in horror as he takes a few seconds to reflect on his own actions.
You were quiet. Extremely quiet. He hated it. Why aren't you yelling at him? Cursing at him? What were you thinking? How hurt are you? The only sound being the drops of rain hitting the ground as you looked down with a look of disappointment visible in your expression, slowly regaining your composure.
With a heavy sigh to calm your uneven breath, you spoke "... I know you're hurting... I am too... but the last person I thought that could ever hurt me.... was you." You spoke quietly and slowly, your head low and your voice dejected, still gripping on your leg as your breath further turned uneven.
"y/n.... I..." He immediately paused again, stopping himself from even risking the accidental use of his speech again. He hurriedly tried to take his phone, rummaging through his pants as his hand trembled, but before he could even begin typing what he wanted to say to you, you weakly raised your hand, stopping him.
"I shouldn't have pushed you." You looked at him as your eyes had small pools of droplets resting at the lids of your eyes- droplets he knew were not because of the rain. Your caring, gentle, and soft gaze fading, just like how he felt your trust in him starting to disipitate
You made a few attempts to stand up slowly, failing miserably each time as Toge had his hand hover over you, wanting to assist you but respecting the boundaries you had just put up.
It still hurt though, pretty bad. But honestly what hurt most was not the fact you were thrown across an entire backyard, but because Toge had used his curse on you.
Falling onto the ground again after another failed attempt at standing up, he reached for you, but pulled back the last second- afraid to hurt or even scare you.
A second of panic passed before he gestured towards the house and signals you to wait.
He hurriedly run inside to call someone else to assist you. It took only less than a minute for him to find someone to hurriedly run back into the garden with him, and once outside, he immediately looked over to where he last left you only to find no one.
You were gone.
Confused and panicked, he immediately began searching the area, calling your name while his body was numbing all the pain he was having from all the movements he was making right now.
"y/n..." He called out to you, his tone sounding slightly beggining to sound desperate "y/n...!" With a little more volume, Toge yelled.
He wanted to talk to you, help you, at least aid you and get you dressed before sending you a car ride home if you didn't want to see him right now.
In the streets, he looked left and right for any clues that you might've left as he was mentally cursing himself for letting you leave the place in such a state.
He curses himself under his breath. Oh how he wished that he could have been actually affected by it, for he deserved it.
Immediately, he brought out his phone, opened your contact, and quickly stared tapping on the keyboard.
y/n
pls
wait
waiy pls
come back
i didnt meanm it
promisr to god i dindtt mean what ibsaid
i didnt menan to spoeak
i didnt mean to say sanythjng to you
im sorry
im so sorry
it was my failt im so sorry come back
im sorry i hurt you
if u dont want tk talk to me plesase let me get someone to take you home ols
please
im so sorry
---///-----///-----///-----///-----///-----///-----///---
THIS IS SUCH AN INTERESTING PROMPT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO MAKE THIS BUT IT WAS TIME TO TAKE MATTERS INTO MY OWN HANDS
Next Part: They fix it, they don't, or it never gets a third part who knows where the tides will take me🫡
[Honestly felt like I lost my touch in writing long fics ever since the last one I wrote </3 the writing is not giving much for me. I need to work on my craft again :')]
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Tags list: @zhenyuuu @megumisdivinedogs
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castiwls · 3 days
Text
Come home to me - c.n
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Paring; castiel x reader
Synopsis: Getting hurt on a hunt was expected, but this was different. This left your life on the line
Warnings; mention of death and injury
Requested;anon
Notes;so sorry this took so long! also not wrote for castiel in a minute so I apologise if its kinda occ :) reqs and inbox are open
Masterlist
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Pain was something you were used to. It wasn’t often you found yourself walking away from a hunt unscathed but this…this was something you’d never felt before.
White hot pain pulsed through your side as you tried to remember how to breathe again. You couldn’t even remember what had happened. One minute you were standing and the next you were looking at the barn's roof.
You weren’t even sure if you’d finished the hunt. The only thing you knew was that you were in pain.  A hand on your chest pulled you back to reality. The car jostled slightly causing you to wince as pain shot up your side.
“Is it bad?” Your voice was strained as you looked up at met a pair of blue eyes full of concern. Castiel was quiet his eyes trained on your face. “You're going to be okay.” He nodded before moving his hand over your side. 
His voice was passive but you could tell by his eyes that he was scared and you couldn’t tell if he was reassuring himself or you. Taking a sharp breath you reached a hand up towards him. One of his hands quickly wrapped around yours and squeezed it.
“M’tired Cas.” You mumbled watching as his eyes widened slightly. He shook his head before saying something you didn’t catch. Your ears seemed to fill with water as the voices in the car blended together to make one muffled mass.
The pain continued to pulse through you as quiet mumbles left your lips. Your eyes continued to droop as you watched him stare down at you. 
Truthfully you had no idea if you were dying. The thought left a small pinch of fear rushing through you. What if you were dying? What if you died in this car? What if you died and never got to tell him?
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
Castiel watched in near horror as your eyes finally closed and your body went limp on his lap. Placing a hand on your shoulder he shook you gently, careful of your wound. “Hey.” He could feel Dean’s eyes on him from the mirror as he continued to shake you.
The sound of the engine revving faded into the background as he continued calling your name begging for your eyes to open again.
Until now fear had been something he’d never felt. The idea alone was so alien to him that for a moment he had no idea what that cold feeling that seemed to chill his body was. 
For the first time, Castiel was genuinely scared. He knew healing you wasn’t an option until you got back to the motel. The car was too shaky and he wasn’t willing to risk causing you any more pain. 
“You're gonna be okay.” He mumbled pushing your hair off your face. Staring down at you he found himself slowly mapping your features. He’d always known that there was something about you. Something which left him constantly looking for your attention. Your smile alone could brighten his day and the thought of never seeing it again left him feeling sick to his stomach.
Losing you was maybe his worst fear, and now that might actually be a reality.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
Castiel didn’t know how long it had been. Both Sam and Dean had begrudgingly retired to their own motel room leaving you both alone a few hours ago. 
Even after being healed you continued to lie lifeless on the old bed while he sat quietly at your side. Letting out a breath he leaned forward on his knees looking at you for a moment. Your clothes were still bloody and torn but your side now showed no memories of the gash that had been there only hours earlier.
Running a hand through his hair he leaned back into the chair, his mind still going a mile a minute. Castiel had never had the words to tell you how he really felt. He’d become so accustomed to being your ‘best friend’ that the idea of being anything more had slowly faded away. 
He knew he was in love. He’d been in love since the first day he’d met you and now he’d waited too long and may never get the chance to tell you.
A small pained groan broke through the silence and his head shot up. Another small noise left your lips as you stretched out your leg, feeling the stiffness on one side of your body slowly lessen.
“Wha..what happened?” You asked turning your head to where he was sitting. “Cas?” His hand shot out grabbing a hold of yours, his eyes wide. “How do you feel?” His voice was laced with concern.
You thought for a moment trying to piece together your foggy memories of what had happened on the hunt. The pieces slowly slotted together and you let out a worried breath immediately reaching for your side.
Feeling the now untouched skin you looked over to the angel. “Stiff but…much better.” You smiled weakly, fatigue still clouding your mind. “Thank you.” 
He nodded a small smile growing on his lips. Relief rushed through him as you slowly moved to sit up against the pillows. “I’m glad.” He was quiet for a moment before clearing his throat.
“Can I…can I tell you something.” Castiel felt his gaze fall onto his hands as you tilted your head watching him. “Of course. You can tell me anything.” You answered trying to reassure him. 
He nodded before falling quiet again. You watched as opened his mouth a few times before stopping himself and shaking his head. “Cas, come on you can tell me.” You laughed gently patting the bed beside you.
Taking the hint he came to sit beside you. He felt the bed dip slightly as you moved closer a smile on your lips. Part of him was so relieved still that you were alive that it took him a moment to realise that you’d placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m in love with you.” He said suddenly. The confession seemed to shock you both as you stiffened slightly and he sucked in a breath.
The air seemed to grow tense for a moment before he turned to face you, his breath catching in his throat as he mentally prepared himself for the possibility of you rejecting him.
Instead, you were smiling brightly, a small dusting of red on your cheeks. “You're not just saying that 'cause I almost died right?” 
He shook his head reaching for your hand which wasn’t on his shoulder. “No. No of course not. I really mean it.”
He looked down to where your hands were intertwined. “Well.” You moved your hand from his shoulder to gently tip his chin up.
“I guess it’s a good thing I feel the same.”
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inthe-dark-tonight · 2 days
Text
Falling Into My Sins
chapter six: i wanna be the one
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dbf!joel x fem!reader series - loosely inspired by the song skin by soccer mommy
chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5
summary: joel tries to keep you off his mind while he has the house to himself on a friday night, until tommy shows up after your second date.
word count: 3.8k
series rating: E (18+ mdni)
warnings: joel’s pov, alcohol consumption, joel jerks it, mentions of blood/cleaning a wound, jealous!joel, tommy boasting a little bit
notes: well…… long time no see…. sorry for the extremely long wait on this chapter, life has been insane :,) special thanks to my tumblr mom @pr0ximamidnight for reading this chapter for me, ilysm you have no idea <3 i also hit a new follower milestone a little bit ago so thank you to everyone who follows & reads/interacts with any of my fics it means the world to me, truly 🤍 enjoy and let me know what you think of this chapter!!
It’s ten of eight and Tommy will be here any minute to pick you up. You spent all day wondering where he was planning to take you, and when you asked all he told you was to wear something nice. You check your bag one last time before leaving your room, glancing at your messages to see if Tommy texted you but all you see is an unread message from Joel this morning that reads Hey, I’ll be home tonight if you wanna stop by, i’d still really like to talk.
After staring at it for a moment, you shove your phone into your bag, closing your bedroom door behind you and heading down the stairs. Your dads not home tonight, which meant you thankfully wouldn’t be questioned about your date. When you get to the bottom of the stairs, you decide to wait on the porch for Tommy to get here. As you reach for the door knob and tug the door open, a gust of cool air pushes the door towards you, revealing a surprised Tommy standing there with his hand raised like he was about to knock on the door.
“Oh,” he says in a surprised tone. “Was just about to knock.” He lets out a small laugh.
Your cheeks heat up a little in embarrassment. “Sorry.” You let out a small laugh as well, smiling up at him.
As you step out, pulling the door shut behind you, Tommy’s eyes are glued to you. He clears his throat. “You look great.” he pauses for a moment. “I mean you always look great but-” he cuts himself off with a nervous laugh as he waits for your response.
Your cheeks warm up slightly at his words. “Thank you.” your eyes fall to the ground as you step off your front porch and start towards Tommy's truck.
Tommy walks beside you, hand lightly resting on your lower back to guide you as the two of you near the car. He moves his hand from your back as he reaches out to grab the door and you smile at him as he watches you step in and gently closes the door. You watch him, a small smile still on your face as you watch him round the front of the car and step in before taking off towards downtown.
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Joel has the house to himself for once, which is quite rare for a Friday night. Sarah is staying over at a friend's house and normally Tommy would stop by for a beer or two, but he hasn't tonight, leaving Joel to finish a six pack on his own as his mind wanders. When he's working or around people, usually other women, he does a pretty good job at suppressing any thoughts of you, but when he's on his own there's no stopping his mind from drifting to thoughts of you.
Since even before the last time Joel saw you he had told himself he would stop seeing other women, he hadn't slept with any of them, only taken them out to try and keep his mind off you. But now he knew there was no use in trying to stop the way he was feeling, he needed to talk to you and tell you all of this, but you're impossible to get a hold of. He knows it's because of the way he's been acting, and rightfully so. The way he lied, telling you it was noting more than a fuck, showing up on dates with other women in front of you, it was all in an attempt to try and ignore the attraction he felt towards you.
Joel takes one last swig of beer, finishing the bottle off before setting it on the wooden coffee table in front of him and looking at the time, nine twenty. He lets out a sigh, standing up from his place on the couch and grabbing the cardboard pack full of empty bottles from the table. Once he starts walking towards the kitchen to discard the bottles his head feels a bit fuzzy, the effects of the alcohol finally setting in.
He walks slowly towards the stairs, holding onto the railing the whole way up and walking immediately towards his bathroom, leaving the door open a crack before turning on the shower. As the water warms up and steam slowly starts to fill the room, he unbuttons his jeans quickly removing them before placing a hand on the counter for support as his head continues to spin, flashes of you appearing when he closes his eyes. The way you looked the night the two of you first met, skin glistening and glowing under the colorful lights in the club as you swayed your hips enticingly. He can still remember so clearly the way that the heat of your body felt pressed up against him, how warm your skin was as he let his hands wander, the way your soft plush lips moved so naturally with his own.
Before Joel can stop it, he begins to feel a heat creeping up his chest and a stiffness growing in his boxers. A low grunt leaves his mouth as he looks down at himself. Damnit. He looks back at his reflection in the foggy mirror, broad shoulders slumped over and tired eyes staring back at himself as he lifts his hand to swipe over the condensation on the mirror. How much longer can he keep doing this? Jerking off to the thought of you at least once a week. How much longer can he go without touching your skin with his own hands? His imagination can only keep his desires at bay for so long.
“Fuck.” he exhales. This isn't helping.
Joel pushes himself off the counter and grabs the back of his shirt, pulling it up over his head in one swift motion and discarding it on the floor before carefully slipping out of his boxers. He groans as he pulls the fabric over his now fully hard cock and lets them fall to the floor. As he steps out of where they are pooled around his feet and towards the hot shower, he lets out a deep sigh before pulling back the shower and stepping into the thick steam.
He sucks in a breath through his teeth as the hot water beats down onto his throbbing cock before turning his back towards the running water. For a moment he stands there, eyes closed as he takes a few deep breaths trying to rid the thoughts running through his mind, head still spinning from the six pack he polished off. When he opens his eyes, they fall back down to where is cock is springing up towards the sparse hairs trailing to his belly button. He swallows thickly before reaching down to wrap his large hand around the thick base of his cock, closing his eyes and letting out a groan as he lightly squeezes. For a moment he stays still, trying to collect himself before he goes any further.
“God, this is so fuckin’ pathetic.” he grumbles to himself as he throws his head back.
He takes a deep breath, planting his free hand on the shower wall to brace himself as he looks back down at where his hand is wrapped around his painfully stiff cock. A shaky breath leaves his lips as he closes his eyes, images of you immediately appearing behind his closed lids. His hand moves slowly up his shaft, the warm water acting as a lubricant as he begins to lazily pump his fist. Your lips, your eyes, your skin, he thinks about when he bumped into you at the restaurant the other night, how soft your skin was under his rough hands when he stopped you from crashing into him. The scent of you has been lingering around him ever since that night, unable to clear it from his senses.
He starts to pick up his pace, giving a slight squeeze with each pump of his fist. The heat in his stomach is starting to build as he now imagines you on your knees in front of him, the way your soft lips would look wrapped around him as you take every inch. His mouth falls open and a low whine escapes him, he squeezes his eyes shut as the vision of how you would look peering up at him with your pretty eyes as he stuffs his cock into your mouth plays in his head. Your voice replays in his head, saying his name over and over so smoothly as his climax grows closer.
To tell the truth, he would do anything to have you actually here with him now. He would quit all this teasing and messing around once and for all if it meant he could finally taste you, and oh how he's been dying to taste you. Dreaming about it, fantasizing about how sweet your pretty pussy must taste, dying to sink into it. He swears he can hear the pretty moans leaving your mouth, feel your soft skin under the palms of his hands as he imagines them roaming your body. The image of you lying on his bed, back arched, moaning his name as you buck your hips into his mouth sends him over the edge.
A deep groan leaves Joel's mouth, eyes squeezing shut as he paints the shower wall. He stays still for a moment, breathing deeply as he stands up straight and begins to gather himself. His head falls back and he lets out a sigh as he opens his eyes to stare at the ceiling, thoughts still racing. As he turns to face the shower head, he wonders what you're up to tonight. A knot begins to form in his stomach at the possibilities, but he shakes it off, ducking to put his head under the shower stream and running his hands over his face.
He stays standing under the water for a minute or two, giving himself a moment to come down from the high of his orgasm before washing his hair and cleaning himself up. After shutting off the water he pulls back the shower curtain and reaches out to grab his towel, stepping out of the shower. He lets out a content sigh as he dries himself off, wrapping the towel around his waist and pushing back his still dripping wet hair from his forehead. Quickly picking up his dirty clothing from the floor, he heads back into his room tossing them in his hamper before digging through his dresser for sweats and a t-shirt.
Just as he finishes changing, he hears his front door open. “Joel!” Tommy yells out.
Joel rolls his eyes at the sound of Tommy’s voice. “Well that didn’t last long.” He grumbles to himself as he slowly opens his bedroom door and walks towards the stairs.
“Joel! You home?” Tommy calls out again.
Joel lets out a sigh. “Yeah!” He finally answers as he quickly goes down the stairs, walking into the kitchen to see Tommy leaning on the kitchen counter.
“Got the place to yourself tonight, huh?” Tommy asks as Joel walks past him into the kitchen, heading towards the sink. He raises his eyebrows in annoyance once his back is to Tommy.
“Yup.” Until you showed up, he thinks to himself.
“Surprised you don’t have a girl over, or a date planned for that matter.” Joel tries not to let Tommy’s comment get to him as he turns on the sink, allowing the water a few seconds to warm up before he does the dishes.
Tommy laughs and Joel lets out a sigh, thoughts of you entering his mind again. He picks up a sponge, covering it in a small dollop of soap before grabbing a dirty plate from the sink. You’ve seen him the past couple of times he was on a date with someone and he wonders how you feel about it. Were you upset afterwards? He knew you were angry the night you saw him at the diner after a date, but how much did it really bother you? He needs to know. Joel hears Tommy's voice and snaps out of his thoughts.
“Speaking of dates,” Tommy clears his throat, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table and sitting down before he continues on. “I just got back from one.”
Joel’s not so interested in hearing about another one of Tommy's flings at this moment, but he’s too tired to tell him so. “Oh yeah? Who’s the lucky lady this time?” A small smirk grows on Joel's face as he prepares to hear his brother go on about his new girl.
Joel freezes, heart sinking down into his stomach when he hears your name leave Tommy’s mouth, not wanting to believe it. The two of them sit silent for a few moments, only the sound of the running water from the sink filling the room. His blood starts to boil, muscles tensing up as his hands still, a glass in one, sponge in the other. A low ringing starts to play through Joel's ears and he tries to gather himself.
Tommy finally breaks the silence. “Actually just dropped her off before heading over here.”
“Hm.” Joel nods his head as he tries to think of more to say. “Where did you two go?” Joel tries to keep his voice steady as he speaks, visions of you out with his brother, sitting in his passenger seat racing through his brain as he continues to scrub away at the dish in his hands. He doesn't really want to know the answer, but he needs to know. How serious could this thing really be?
“Just a little place downtown, had dinner and a few drinks then went for a walk.” As Tommy speaks, Joel's imagining the scene in his head.
What did you wear? Did you laugh at his jokes, throwing your head back as your eyes fall shut, lips turning up to reveal your beautiful smile. He doesn't want to imagine you with anyone else, let alone his little brother.
“Mmm.” Joel hums in response, not sure what else he can say or if he can even keep himself calm enough to come up with something.
“I think I’m really into her,” Tommy lets out a small laugh, shaking his head back and forth slightly. “Which hasn't happened in awhile.” Joel feels sick at the words that just left his brother's mouth.
Joel rinses the dish he was scrubbing and sets it into the drying rack next to the sink before picking up another dirty dish. He grabs the dish soap and notices his hand is shaking slightly as he goes to squeeze the bottle. Fuck. What seems like half the bottle comes flying out when he squeezes. This can't be happening, he thinks to himself.
“I know she's a little young but, there's something there.” Even with his back to him, Joel can hear the smile in Tommy's voice. “Our second kiss just, it felt like this could really be something.”
Joel drops the soapy wet plate into the sink, causing him to flinch and Tommy rises from his chair. He thinks his heart could stop right this second at the image of you kissing his brother, again. As if once wasn't bad enough.
“You okay?” Tommy says, walking towards Joel.
“Yeah, yeah just,” Joel’s voice breaks and he clears his throat. “Pretty tired, it's been a long day.” He picks up the plate from the bottom of the sink, rinsing it off and setting it next to the others on the drying rack.
“Well, I'm gonna get going. I’ll call you tomorrow?” Joel can hear Tommy’s footsteps as he backs out of the kitchen, but he doesn’t turn around to look at his brother.
“Sounds good.” he nods his head, continuing his task.
Joel listens to the sound of Tommy walking towards the front door, opening and closing it behind him. Then it's silent. Just Joel and his thoughts. He zones out, staring out the window over the sink into the pitch black, still feeling a bit fuzzy from the drinks he had earlier. His eyes focus for just a second on his reflection in the glass.
You and his little brother. He knew you two had gone out together once, he was with you two at the bar, not thinking it was actually anything serious. And he did see you kiss his brother that same night, but Joel just assumed it was to get under his skin, which worked. Now though, this was more than just something casual. He needs to find a way to talk to you, soon. Before it's too late.
He can't shake the images of the two of you from his head. Imagining the way you would’ve looked under the moonlight as you strolled the streets after dinner, breeze gently blowing as you walked hand in hand. He imagines himself there with you instead of his brother. Driving you home, stealing glances at you as you sit beside him in the passenger seat looking out the window as music plays softly through the radio. Walking you up the steps to your front door, pulling you into him and placing a gentle kiss on your lips before watching you go inside and walking to his car.
Except it wasn’t him. It was his fucking brother walking hand in hand with you and kissing you as he dropped you off at the end of the night.
“God damnit!” Joel yells out, the glass in his hand shattering.
His heart is racing as he looks down at his hand, a few small cuts scattering across his palm. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize he was squeezing it that tightly. For a moment he stands there, staring down at his palm and the red covered broken glass lying in the sink. The water is still running and he moves his hand to run beneath it, rinsing the blood from his hand and covering the sink in a red tint. His breathing starts to slow as he fully snaps back into reality, the sting of the cuts starts to sink in and he sucks in a breath, quickly pulling his hand away from the running water.
“Great.” he mumbles to himself, shutting the water off and walking towards the drawer in the kitchen where he keeps a few bandaids and gauze.
He grabs the roll of gauze with his good hand and walks back upstairs towards his bathroom. He’ll deal with the broken glass tomorrow morning before Sarah gets home, right now all he wants to do is sleep. When he gets back upstairs, he rummages around the cabinet under his sink, looking for the bottle of rubbing alcohol that's somewhere down there, grabbing some cotton balls while he's at it.
Before sitting down on his toilet seat to wrap his hand, he takes a look at it under the vanity light, making sure there's no glass in the cuts. There's a large gash running from the base of his thumb towards the center of his palm, and two small puncture spots beneath his ring finger where the glass just barely cut him. He runs his hand under cold water one last time, then soaks a cotton ball in rubbing alcohol, pressing lightly along the cuts.
He winces as it soaks into the cuts, stinging once again. As he goes to sit down, he tosses the cotton balls into the small trash in the corner of his bathroom, grunting when he finally sits down. He stares down at his hand, examining the wound one last time before starting to unravel the gauze and wrap it around his hand and tucking the end in to keep it in place as much as possible. The stinging hasn't stopped quite yet, his hand feels warm where the cut is but all he can do is hope it’s slightly better in the morning.
Joel lets out a deep sigh as he stands up, walking out of the bathroom and towards his bed. Sleep will fix everything, at least he hopes. He knows it won't lessen the pain of what he's learned tonight, but at least he'll get a break from imagining you with…
He can't even finish the thought, won't finish it. He pulls back his comforter and slips into his bed, reaching to flick off his bedside light before turning onto his side. He’ll deal with it all in the morning.
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It’s been about an hour since your date with Tommy ended, now you’re laying in bed on top of your covers, just staring at the ceiling as you go over the events of tonight. The date was alright, you think. You could tell he had put a lot of effort into it, dressing nicer than usual and taking you to a nice spot for dinner. He ordered wine at dinner, which was more shocking than impressive.
The two of you talked about anything and everything, laughing and having a good time, only when Joel wasn’t slipping into your mind. You tried your best to surprise your thoughts, especially since you were on a date with his younger brother, but every time Tommy did something you couldn’t help but think about what Joel would’ve done if you were there with him.
Would he be telling jokes the way Tommy was? Would he have ordered wine instead of his usual in a lame attempt to impress you? He probably wouldn’t have taken you to a place this nice, but you think you would’ve preferred that.
After dinner, Tommy had taken you on a walk around town. The weather was beautiful as the sun was setting, a small breeze picking up as you walked under the street lights. It would’ve been even better if you weren’t distracted the whole time wishing that you were with Joel instead. You felt guilty, absolutely terrible, even now thinking about it makes your stomach twist into a knot. The truth of the matter is, you need to end things with Tommy, sooner than later.
You finally sit up and climb off your bed, walking over to your dresser and grabbing something to sleep in, quickly peeling your outfit from tonight off and slipping into your pajamas. As you toss you things into your hamper, you catch a glimpse of yourself in your mirror, staring back at yourself for a moment.
“What am I going to do.” You let out a deep sigh, walking over to flick your bedroom light off before crawling into bed.
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thank you for reading <3
tags: @pedropascalfan221 @mellymbee @kaybee181520 @joeldjarin @akah565 @chefchy4 @untamedheart81 @merz-8 @fellinfromthetop @znerac @hiddenbabynyc
i think i won’t be doing a tag list from now on…. sorry don’t hate me!! i also post all chapters on my ao3 pale_m00nlight :)
147 notes · View notes
imaluckygirl · 2 days
Text
⭑ cool with you
( enhypen scenario )
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synopsis: your boyfriend favorite moments with you when he’s at home.
( 엔하이픈 ) - hyungline!fem.reader ( maknae ver. ) ; fluff & domestic ୨ৎ back to the bookshelf . . .
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heeseung : watching you sleep & late night kisses
alright, i’ll try to make a quick mix with this two topics i brought up: after a stressful day the only thing heeseung needs is you. and he is the one who, while all the members are fast asleep, he’s still in the practice room. so he arrives at home CRAVING for you. however, when he sees you already asleep — except he can still see you tried to wait for him to get home because you are without a blanket covering you and your feet named — he just chuckle and gets underneath the blanket and covers you with it too.
and well, since he doesn’t have the opportunity to see your face every single second, he just lays on bed and stares at you with a grin, realising how lucky he is. and, if you wake up somehow, the late night kisses will make sure you’re back asleep. even more awake
‘the watching you sleep’ thing also counts in the morning! when heeseung wakes up to get ready and go to work, he makes sure he sets his alarm a bit earlier so he can enjoy watching you sleep. your cute snores are the sweetest melody he has ever heard. — can’t finish this without mentioning ( even though is not mentioned above ) the way he snuggles his head onto your neck when you wake up before he can entirely appreciate the view of your pretty face, feeling shy but happy you could give him some cuddles before he leaves to work.
jongseong : humming a sweet melody to help you sleep
having troubles to sleep was something common in your life, even before jongseong came into your life. always waking up in the middle of the night, having a plenty of nightmares, or sometimes not even closing your eyes. however, jongseong didn’t know about this before, until the day he saw you up at three in the morning and asked what you were doing. and when you simply told him you were having trouble to sleep, he knew he had to do something about it.
so one day he knew you had a stressful week and you had to have a great night of sleep, he spooned you on bed and placed sweet kisses onto your jaw and temples, starting to hum a calm melody. that melody was so calming that you were already fast asleep in two minutes — and even snoring because of how tired you were, but he didn’t care; he just wanted to see the love of his life resting properly and peacefully.
conclusion: whenever he sees you having troubles to sleep, he cuddles you and hums a sweet melody to you; without forgetting to place a soft kiss on your cheek, forehead or lips before you fall asleep. and, surprisingly, it always worked, becoming a part of his night routine: make you sleep tight in his arms.
jaeyun : watching you get ready & cuddling with you ( feat. layla )
your boyfriend just loves watching you get ready to go out with him, knowing he will show off his pretty baby. even though he says he will still find you pretty with whatever you’re wearing — even saying you would look pretty with a pickle costume —, jaeyun’s eyes shine brightly when he sees you wearing a dreamy or flowy dress, especially when he knows he was the one who bought it for you.
and oh gosh, he loves watching you apply lipstick as well, asking for a kiss right after you applied it. he doesn’t care if his lips are sticky because of the glossy lip oil you applied or how red and swollen his lips look after kissing your red coloured lips. “i’ll fix your lipstick for you baby.” jaeyun would say with a embarrassed grin after smudging your hard work ( applying red lipstick ).
jaeyun is a clingy boyfriend, so he loves cuddling you. it could be on the sofa or on bed, he just wants to have you by his side. tapping the sofa twice to call layla while you were already laid — melting into a smile watching this scene because of how happy you were with your little family. and then, after layla lays down on the sofa — on you guys feet — jaeyun knew you were dying to finally cuddle with him, so your boyfriend pets layla’s head — placing a kiss on the same spot. “my baby is so cute.” he giggled after placing a kiss onto layla’s head, laying himself on the sofa to hug you. “hi my other baby.” and finally he smashes his lips onto yours.
sunghoon : back hugs in the morning & having his meals w you
as much as sunghoon is not really into physical touch, he absolutely loves how intimate back hugs in the morning are. and i’m not JUST talking about bed back hugs, but back hugs at the kitchen while you make breakfast — because mostly of the time sunghoon don’t stay in the same position while he’s asleep — just hits different. his nose detects the smell of fresh pancakes being made and he immediately goes downstairs in silence to surprise you with a hug. even though he hugs you like this every time, you always gasp and turn your head, being met with two sleepy eyes and cute pursed lips. sunghoon is most likely to tell you to keep your attention on whatever you’re making, but it’s hard when your boyfriend starts placing soft kisses on your shoulder and cheek; snuggling his nose onto your neck afterwards.
another thing sunghoon just ugh loves and gets all giddy is having his meals with you. i can’t explain it very well or make a long explanation why he likes it, but i think it just makes him feel loved in some kinda way? like, he knows he usually isn’t the most touchy person, so when he sees you still love and cares about him makes him feel happy, feeling like he is accepted by the way he is and how he shows he love — like he doesn’t have to force himself to be someone he isn’t just to make you feel butterflies? anyways, having his meals with you just makes sunghoon’s days more enjoyable, and that was a fact.
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© imaluckygirl , originals .ᐟ 24.
taglist : @ no-one .
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werewolfsmile · 2 days
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The Eliot Spencer Details Masterpost
I have been recording details about our beloved Eliot Spencer on my latest watch through. And now, it's finally time to reveal the details!! If I have gotten any details INCORRECT, I beg of you to correct me, at which time, this post will be updated and credit given. (Note: S1 was aired out of chronological order. I am going by chronological episode numbers - aka the correct order - and providing the episode titles as well to minimise confusion.) !! This post contains details from Leverage: Redemption! Read the episode references carefully if you are wanting to avoid certain spoilers !!
Shirtless Moments
S1 E7 The Two-Horse Job: The flashback scene when Aimee asks Eliot what his excuse was for not coming back to her, we see him being dragged/tortured, shirtless. "Tell us what you did with the monkey!" (Note: S1 was aired out of chronological order. I am going by chronological episode numbers, and providing the episode titles as well to minimise confusion.)
S2 E2 The Tap-Out Job: Eliot is shirtless for the fight match.
S4 E9 The Cross My Heart Job: Ehh he's not completely shirtless here but whatever. At about 16 mins in, Eliot and Parker are getting changed together, Eliot strips to a singlet then throws his shirt at me the camera. (I didn't include other scenes of Eliot in a singlet here because in this scene he's actively undressing, whereas in others he's not.)
Necklaces
The earliest sighting of his guitar pick necklace is S1 E2 The Homecoming Job. It continues to pop up frequently in episodes, though noticeably less in S1. I thought about recording every occurrence of it here but ... lmao it's in legit waaayyyy too many episodes for me to bother.
S2 E10 The Runway Job: Honourable mention of the necklaces Eliot wears with his fashion week outfit. The longer one is kinda dogtag-esque, the shorter one is ... I think it's a fleur de lis? He also wears a range of chain necklaces later in this episode.
Dammit Hardison
S1 E13 The Second David Job: The FIRST INSTANCE of dammit Hardison in the entire show! Said upon discovering each other in the gallery, around 4 mins 15 seconds.
S2 E1 The Beantown Bailout Job: Said around 22 mins 30 seconds, immediately following, "What are the odds that Eliot's crotch will actually explode?" Iconic.
S2 E6 The Top Hat Job: When setting up for the magic show and discovering the rabbit missing, roughly 19 mins 45 seconds.
S3 E3 The Inside Job: Running from security, around 31 mins 30 seconds.
S3 E4 The Scheherazade Job: Trying to enter McRory's at the same time, around 1 min 30 seconds.
S3 E5 The Double Blind Job: This is an honourable mention because this time NATE is the one to say dammit Hardison! 9 mins 15 seconds.
S3 E6 The Studio Job: Upon discovering the master tape isn't in the case, roughly 32 mins.
S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Eliot and Hardison running in the woods for their lives, arguing as always. This one is a bonus 'dammit' because Hardison says it straight back to Eliot after Eliot yells it at him! Around 21 mins.
S3 E12 The King George Job: Discussing Hardison's forgery work, followed by Eliot regretting touching anything. Around 23 mins 55 seconds.
S3 E13 The Morning After Job: Pretending to be cops and accidentally ending up with a prisoner to take back to jail, around 16 mins 20 seconds.
S3 E14 The Ho Ho Ho Job: Honourable mention of Chaos mocking Eliot by saying dammit Hardison. Roughly 21 mins 15 seconds.
(phew, S3 was rough on Hardison! given what Eliot was going through with the whole Moreau thing.... ooh that's delicious angst)
S4 E4 The Hot Potato Job: Honourable mention for Sophie saying it this time! While playing the role that was meant for Eliot, around 24 mins.
S4 E6 The Carnival Job: Mixing chemicals for a distraction, roughly 25 mins 30 seconds.
S4 E17 The Radio Job: Hardison running away from being thrown off a high floor, around 5 mins.
S4 E18 The Last Dam Job: Sneaking around at the Bellington Dam, roughly 13 mins 35 seconds.
S5 E1 The (Very) Big Bird Job: 'Accidentally' putting a brew pub menu in front of Eliot, around 10 mins 20 seconds.
S5 E15 The Long Goodbye Job: Emotional scene that we do not speak about, around 12 mins 40 seconds.
RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: After knocking Harry out and asking Hardison to help carry Harry, and Hardison refuses. 11 mins 40 seconds.
RS1 E2 The Panamanian Monkey Job: Upon discovering that security is headed to the vault where Parker is, and the only way down there is through the vents. Around 34 mins 10 seconds.
RS2 E1 The Debutante Job: We get 3! In this whole episode! Probably to make up for Hardison being gone for most of Redemption. Anyway! First one when Eliot and Hardison are in Ralphie Roy's place and Hardison has no idea who Ralphie is, around 23 mins 15 seconds. Second is when they're breaking into the elevator and Hardison won't help fight or move the unconscious guards, roughly 37 mins 40 seconds. And third, after the job when Parker says that Hardison was the one who took out all the guards. Around 45 mins 10 seconds.
RS2 E3 The Tournament Job: Right at the start after Eliot says gaming isn't a sport and Parker texts Hardison, so Hardison starts blowing up Eliot's phone. Lmao. Around 4 mins 20 seconds.
Dammit Parker
S1 E4 The Snow Job: Parker jumps out of a second floor window, Eliot catches her. 15 mins. (Parker gets a dammit from Eliot before Hardison does!!)
S3 E8 The Boost Job: Parker driving erratically, Eliot thrown around in back seat. (Technically there's a pause between dammit and Parker but I'm still including it) 35 min 35 seconds.
S5 E12 The White Rabbit Job: Searching the mark's house, Parker wants to steal a shirt. Again, this isn't technically a proper dammit Parker, as Eliot instead says, "Put it back! Dammit." But I'm still including it because it was aimed at her. 21 mins 20 seconds.
RS1 E10 The Unwellness Job: At end of episode, after Parker admits that she didn't even learn Eliot's name till after the team broke up the first time. 44 mins 30 seconds.
RS1 E13 The Hurricane Job: After washing up on shore and entering the Beacon Inn, Parker and Eliot are bickering about Maria. He doesn't strictly say dammit Parker but there's absolutely no doubt who he's directing the dammits towards. 3 mins 30 seconds.
RS2 E6 The Fractured Job: When farewelling Billy and Parker says next time she'll finish telling him about the robot bodies. Again, it's just dammit not dammit Parker but it's close enough. 41 mins.
RS2 E8 The Turkish Prisoner Job: Another standalone dammit that is most definitely aimed at Parker! When breaking Romero out, Parker says she's a firefighter (with far too much glee), around 14 mins 30 seconds.
RS2 E11 The Work Study Job: A full dammit Parker this time! When Parker reveals that it's super easy to steal from a university and produces a whole bunch of stuff, roughly 22 mins 40 seconds.
Very Distinctive Moments
S1 E2 The Homecoming Job: Eliot ID's the weapon from the gunshots, around 8 mins. Later, he ID's a guy off his knife fighting style, around 18 mins 50 seconds.
S2 E6 The Top Hat Job: ID's a CIA guy from his stance, roughly 7 mins 45 seconds.
S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: ID's the smell of peppermint on Hardison's breath, around 21 mins.
S3 E12 The King George Job: ID's former British paratroopers by their haircuts, 30 mins 10 seconds.
S4 E1 The Long Way Down Job: ID's a former spetsnaz guy by his footprint, 13 mins 45 seconds.
S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Honourable mention of Eliot ID'ing ex-military personnel by their stances, he just doesn't say very distinctive. 18 mins 50 seconds.
S4 E11 The Experimental Job: Honourable mention of Eliot ID'ing a helicopter by the whumpa-whumpa (there's 7 of them did you know). Around 7 mins.
S5 E3 The First Contact Job: ID's military satellite transmission by the static, 7 mins 20 seconds.
S5 E9 The Rundown Job: ID's a Navy Seal who enlisted between '90-'95 by his watch, around 16 mins.
RS1 E2 The Panamanian Monkey Job: ID's a drone (Breanna's) from the sound. 11 mins 50 seconds.
RS1 E3 The Rollin' On The River Job: ID's Russian mob by the tattoos, 36 mins 30 seconds.
RS1 E7 The Double-Edged Sword Job: Honourable mention for Maria ID'ing the way Eliot disarmed her gun, 7 mins 50 seconds.
RS2 E4 The Date Night Job: Eliot ID's a guy as not having a distinctive anything - which is what is so distinctive. 20 mins 40 seconds.
RS2 E13 The Crowning Achievement Job: ID's MI6 off their search pattern, 6 mins 50 seconds.
Known Family
S1 E6 The Miracle Job: When discussing Bibletopia, Eliot says his nephew would like it. This is the ONLY mention of a nephew in the entire show, Redemption included; nor is there any direct mention of a sibling beyond this (which leads me to believe that this nephew is actually the son of a close friend/cousin/military buddy, rather than a direct family relation, but that's just my headcanon).
S2 E3 The Order 23 Job: When talking to the abused boy, Randy, Eliot says he has an uncle named Randy.
S5 E11 The Low Low Price Job: Eliot's dad owned a hardware store and he wanted Eliot to take over one day. But Eliot wanted to get out of that small town, so he joined the service. Fought with his dad the night before he left and hasn't been back since. He goes back at the end of this episode and knocks - but his dad never answers the door 😭
RS1 E9 The Bucket Job: While interrogating/torturing Eliot with Red Haze, Bligh says that Eliot's dad's friend from Vietnam has invited Eliot to join them for Christmas. At the end of the episode, Eliot goes to join them for dinner, only to get a message from 'J' that his dad was a no show. This 'J' is widely accepted as Eliot's unknown sibling but that is incorrect! 'J' is Eliot's dad's buddy from Vietnam!
RS2 E6 The Fractured Job: The ultimate Eliot family backstory episode!! (if you haven't seen it yet and don't want spoilers, skip this one!) Eliot was adopted by a black couple, Billy and an unnamed woman, after being abandoned/surrendered at a hospital as a baby. His father was a war hero who got none of the glory and sustained a wound, ruining his civilian career path, so Billy never wanted Eliot to follow in his footsteps. Eliot loved the stories of his dad in the military so joined up to be like him. His mother died while Eliot was on an op and he couldn't get leave to come back for the funeral, deepening the rift between him and Billy. Ultimately, they reconcile, (Eliot says his dad was always a hero to him, Billy say's he's proud of Eliot, they hug), and I cry every time 😭❤️ [Edit: Eliot being a baby at the time of being found at the hospital and consequently brought home by his adopted mother is unconfirmed and my presumption. We have no clear info on his age at adoption. Thanks to @nival-kenival for picking that up!]
Phrases: Ain't
S1 E4 The Snow Job: Said to Nate, right before Nate tells him to go skip some rope.
S1 E9 The Stork Job: Says it twice while conning Irina.
S1 E10 The Juror #6 Job: Upon being told to go help Parker instead of watching a sports game, Eliot takes his beer back.
S2 E2 The Tap-Out Job: Discussing the fights the mark runs, says they ain't the UFC.
S2 E3 The Order 23 Job: Said right before threatening to throw Randy's abusive father over the railing of a stairwell.
S2 E4 The Fairy Godparents Job: Upon spotting a hitman sent to kill McSweeten and Taggart.
S2 E8 The Ice Man Job: After hearing Hardison call himself the Ice Man, says he won't bail him out when things go wrong.
S2 E9 The Lost Heir Job: While trying to get Parker to the court room and end up cut off by the police.
S2 E11 The Bottle Job: When Hardison wants help to clean up Nate's apartment and Eliot refuses.
S2 E14 The Three Strikes Job: When Nate says to meet outside the ballpark but Eliot refuses because now he's sucked into the sport.
S3 E3 The Inside Job: Twice while arguing with Hardison about how to rescue Parker, once when Parker offers him a lift down the stairwell with her on her harness rig and he refuses. This is the most he says ain't in a single episode!
S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Once when the militia try to make him kneel, later when the militia kid catches him and Hardison near the train tracks.
S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: When Sophie changes her story to mock Eliot's accent and mannerisms.
S3 E15 The Big Bang Job: When confronting Moreau with Hardison.
S4 E1 The Long Way Down Job: Upon arriving at the base camp and complaining to Nate.
S4 E7 The Grave Danger Job: When looking for a buried Hardison and hearing the sprinklers.
S4 E10 The Queen's Gambit Job: At the end, swearing revenge on Sterling.
S4 E12 The Office Job: Arguing with Hardison about Eliot's sandwich while searching the warehouse.
S4 E13 The Girls' Night Out Job: When trying to convince Nate to socialise at the very start.
S4 E14 The Boys' Night Out Job: Exactly the same as the previous episode, so this one barely counts.
S4 E17 The Radio Job: In the patent office, when trying to figure out who lured Nate into this situation. The same scene is used later as a flashback.
S4 E18 The Last Dam Job: Warning Nate of the consequences of taking a life with your own hands.
S5 E2 The Blue Line Job: When ambushed by Marko when leaving the ice rink.
S5 E9 The Rundown Job: Once when going to wring information on the hit out of Riley, once when Hardison steps on the trigger plate of the claymore.
S5 E13 The Corkscrew Job: First time talking to Betty about how Leonard's a jerk.
RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: Twice when ambushed by RIZ thugs in the warehouse.
RS1 E2 The Panamanian Monkey Job: Once when discussing Ryan Corbett at the start, once when refusing to let Hardison have a turn with the diamond-tipped drill.
RS1 E3 The Rollin' On The River Job: When warning Breanna to be certain of her calculations for how to get him and Parker out of the casino's vault.
RS1 E8 The Mastermind Job: Once when discussing hiring people to overthrow a government, once when discussing how they're going to do like 6 things at once, including saving Harry.
RS1 E9 The Bucket Job: Said twice while talking with Blanche, after Blanche helped rescue Eliot from RIZ.
RS1 E14 The Great Train Job: While digging through the tainted soil with Harry.
RS2 E1 The Debutante Job: When trying to get to Volkov's plane with Parker and seeing that two guards are in the way.
RS2 E5 The Walk In The Woods Job: Talking to Paul after rescuing Harry, who was pretending to be Eliot.
Fun fact: for every ain't that Eliot says, Hardison says at least two more. And that's too many for me to bother recording!
Phrases: Y'all
Never. Not even once.
Hardison, on the other hand, says y'all all the damn time - every season, multiple times, sometimes even multiple times in the same episode.
Honourable mention for Chaos saying y'all as an incorrect mockery of Eliot's accent in S3 E14 The Ho Ho Ho Job.
... Okay, okay! So Eliot says it a few times in Redemption! But only in ONE episode!
RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: Said 4 times when playing a character and convincing people to clear out of the auction house.
That's it.
Aliases
These are all the names that Eliot's gone by or used on cons that I could find, not just full blown aliases.
S1 E1 The Nigerian Job: Detective Lieutenant Carden (the scene with this alias was cut from a lot of versions of this episode)
S1 E4 The Snow Job: Vince Fetkey, Hans Von Schwesterkrank
S1 E7 The Two-Horse Job: Brad Mackie
S1 E9 The Stork Job: Dale
S1 E12 The First David Job: Professor Sinclair
S1 E13 The Second David Job: Professor/Dr Adam Sinclair
S2 E2 The Tap-Out Job: Kid Jones (on the fight match poster)
S2 E4 The Fairy Godparents Job: Coach Brewer
S2 E5 The Three Days Of The Hunter Job: Earl
S2 E9 The Lost Heir Job: Officer Hilts
S2 E10 The Runway Job: Julian
S2 E14 The Three Strikes Job: Roy Chappell
S3 E1 The Jailhouse Job: Dr Abernathy
S3 E2 The Reunion Job: Lloyd Hickey
S3 E4 The Scheherazade Job: Guy Hamilton
S3 E5 The Double Blind Job: Phil
S3 E6 The Studio Job: Kenneth Crane
S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Agent Quint
S3 E8 The Boost Job: Skeeter
S3 E9 The Three-Card Monte Job: Detective Moffat
S3 E10 The Underground Job: Eric
S3 E11 The Rashomon Job: Dr Wes Abernathy
S3 E16 The San Lorenzo Job: Ray Laroque
S4 E2 The Ten Li'l Grifters Job: Charlie Siringo
S4 E4 The Van Gogh Job: Lieutenant (only granting him this one because CK played him in the flashback)
S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Tom Boonen
S4 E12 The Office Job: Mr Dennis
S4 E14 The Boys' Night Out Job: Luigi
S4 E15 The Lonely Hearts Job: Jackson Cooper
S4 E16 The Gold Job: Tobias Bowden
S4 E17 The Radio Job: Cowboy (*cough* John McClane *cough*)
S5 E2 The Blue Line Job: Jacques "Jack" Labert
S5 E3 The First Contact Job: Willie Riker
S5 E5 The Gimme A K Street Job: Steven Turner
S5 E6 The DB Cooper Job: DB Cooper/Young Steve Reynolds (again, technically not an alias but whatever it's here anyway)
S5 E7 The Real Fake Car Job: Barry McElroy
S5 E11 The Low Low Price Job: Archer
S5 E14 The Toy Job: Carl
Honourable mentions of Eliot being called: "Emeril" by Parker in S1 E3 The Wedding Job [thanks @aardvaark for this one!]; "Sparky" by Parker in S1 E10 The Juror #6 Job and by Tara in S2 E15 The Maltese Falcon Job; and "Skippy" by Hardison in S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job.
RS1 E1 The Too Many Rembrandts Job: Will Gallagher
RS1 E6 The Card Game Job: Glenn the Savage
RS1 E7 The Double-Edged Sword: Emmett Milbarge
RS1 E8 The Mastermind Job: Frank Farmer
RS1 E10 The Unwellness Job: Hank
RS1 E12 The Golf Job: Reed Wilkins
RS1 E13 The Hurricane Job: Calvin
RS1 E15 The Muddy Waters Job: Armus Vagra
RS2 E7 The Big Rig Job: Kris
RS2 E8 The Turkish Prisoner Job: Nick O'Brien
RS2 E10 The Work Study Job: New Blood
Honourable mention of Eliot being called "Skipper" by Hardison in RS1 E16 The Harry Wilson Job.
Known Associates
This is in direct reference to hitters/people from the criminal world that Eliot knew or was aware of prior to the Leverage Team. Quinn is not included in this list due to that distinction (sorry Quinn).
S1 E3 The Wedding Job: The Butcher of Kiev
S2 E7 The Two Live Crew Job: Mikel Dayan
S3 E15 The Big Bang Job: Chapman, Damien Moreau
S3 E16 The San Lorenzo Job: Damien Moreau
S4 E4 The Van Gogh Job: Frank, Randall
S4 E6 The Carnival Job: Roper
S5 E4 The French Connection: Rampone
S5 E9 The Rundown Job: Riley
Trivia
S2 E6 The Top Hat Job: Eliot claims he only sleeps 90 minutes a day, and that he cured his claustrophobia as a kid by locking himself in the woodshed behind his house for a couple nights.
S3 E6 The Studio Job: Eliot is nervous to perform in front of an audience, to the point that Parker startles him and she's surprised that she did. Interesting to note that he seems to have no issue playing sport in front of crowds.
S3 E7 The Gone Fishin' Job: Eliot says he hates beets.
S4 E5 The Hot Potato Job: Eliot chews gum. He does this throughout a LOT of episodes across the seasons but I've only noted down this one episode for it.... thanks, past me 🙄 [Edit: thanks @nival-kenival for more info! Another confirmed episode is S1 E2 The Homecoming Job!]
S4 E9 The Cross My Heart Job: Eliot says he fought a guy with a Nerf sword in Damascus, 2002.
S5 E11 The Low Low Price Job: Eliot drives an F-150 to his dad's house in Oklahoma. This is a THIRD vehicle that apparently belongs to Eliot, in addition to the Chevrolet Silverado and Dodge Challenger we see in other episodes. The F-150 is not seen again.
S5 E12 The White Rabbit Job: Eliot has 'special sedatives' aka a little psychotropic he picked up outside of Bogota.
Eliot mostly walks at the back of the group, presumably to be the rear guard and make sure no one falls behind. See ... just about every damn episode for evidence.
RS1 E3 The Rollin' On The River Job: Parker says that Eliot has cut his way out of an ice cave, escaped a gorilla enclosure, and catered a wedding for the mob.
Eliot is seen wearing glasses throughout various episodes. A flashback in S1 E1 The Nigerian Job shows him wearing presumably his own glasses. All other instances of him wearing glasses (that I can think of) are when he takes someone's glasses for a con. It is unconfirmed if Eliot actually needs glasses to correct his eyesight or not, but is a fandom headcanon. [Thanks @independent-fics for picking this up!]
And there you have it! All the details that I've spent the last 3 months collecting!! Now it's time for me to take a good, long break because my brain is fried! 😂
Once again, let me know if you find any errors so I can update the post. Data from Redemption S2 is where I've most likely missed things, since I don't have it on DVD and it's sooo much harder to scrub through streaming footage to find things. When will they release RS2 on DVD I need itttt.
If you've made it this far, thanks for reading! I hope this post can be a helpful reference for you!
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uniquexusposts · 2 days
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hi are you still writing for james beaufort ?
The best friend - James Beaufort
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Main characters: James Beaufort x reader Genre: fanfiction, fluff, TV show  Word count: 1.999
Summary: An insight into James and Y/N's relationship. Or is it more?
James rang the bell of the property and waited for someone to open the door. He looked around; this house always reminded him of Downton Abbey for some reason. Because of him, people called it the Downtown Abbey house. The door swung open a minute later, and Y/N’s dad smiled. “Hello, mate,” he welcomed James. “Come in.” He was wearing a kitchen gown. 
“Hello,” James replied, entering the house. “Thank you. Is she upstairs?” 
Y/N’s dad nodded. “She just came back from work,” he said, and they walked through the hall together. When James wanted to walk up the stairs, Y/N’s dad asked: “Will you be staying over for dinner?” 
“If it isn’t a problem?” James showed a small smile. 
“Of course not! I will peel just a few more potatoes.” 
“Thank you,” James replied and nodded. 
He walked up the stairs, and as he reached the first floor, he heard some music. A steady beat of rap music filled the hall, an unexpected soundtrack for this place. James knew instantly it wasn’t coming from Y/N’s room; rap was the one genre she couldn’t stand. This had to mean her older brother was home. James smiled, remembering the countless times he and Y/N had joked about her brother’s eclectic music tastes. He approached Y/N’s room, knocking gently before pushing the door open. He found her lying on her stomach on her bed, looking exhausted. She barely reacted to his presence, only turning her head slightly so she could see him.
“Hey,” she mumbled, a yawn escaping her lips.
“Hey,” James replied softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Long day?”
“The longest,” Y/N sighed, her voice muffled by the pillow. “I don’t think I’ve moved since I got home.” She followed his every movement, taking off his jacket, tie and shoes. He walked over to her bed and sat on the edge. “What a surprise to see you here,” she mentioned.
“I haven’t seen you for a while, so I thought, let’s check up on the best friend,” he said and ran his hand through his hair. 
Y/N padded on the mattress beside her, inviting him to lie beside her. “The best friend saw you last week,” she replied. 
“Which is a while back. The best friend and I used to see each other every day.” James lay beside her, placing his arm behind his head when his head hit the pillow. 
“That’s a year ago,” she shot back. 
“And?” 
They looked at each other for a few seconds. The corners of Y/N’s lips started to curl up, which also made James smile. 
“How are you?” Y/N then asked, her voice softening since it was a deep question for James. 
James looked away from her, focusing his eyes now on the desk, which was full of stuff. It wasn’t like Y/N to have a messy desk. “I’m fine,” he breathed. 
“Sure?” 
He nodded slowly. 
“And school?” 
“The usual.”
“Good.”
“Ja.” 
After a few minutes of silence, James turned his head to Y/N. He scanned her face; she was zoning out. He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. They shared a quiet moment. 
Suddenly, an alarm went off. James looked around the room, trying to determine where the alarm came from. It was an alarm from a phone.
Y/N softly groaned and stopped the alarm. “Time to get up,” she said and pushed herself up. “Otherwise, I will be doing nothing for the rest of the evening.” She turned around and sat on her bed, stretching her arms and shoulders. When she heard a snort next to her, she turned to James. “What?” 
“You never fail to surprise me with your strange habits,” he laughed, sitting up. 
She smiled and shrugged. “I guess I’m strange.”
“Luckily.”
They both got up from the bed. 
“Your life would be so boring without me,” she cheekily replied, making a bun in her hair. 
James squinted his eyes. “Hmm, I’m not sure.” He showed a playful smile. “Perhaps…”
She raised her eyebrows. “Perhaps what?” 
They held their gaze for a few seconds, their playful tension palpable. Smiling, they moved closer without realising it, their connection deepening with each passing moment.
James finally broke the silence, his voice soft and filled with affection. “Perhaps my life would be incredibly dull without you.”
Y/N’s eyes sparkled with amusement and something deeper. “Good to know you’re aware.” She switched the light off and opened the door to the hallway. 
“How was work, by the way?” James asked, closing the door behind him. Together, they walked down the stairs to the living room. 
“Busy,” she sighed. 
It was hard to admit, but James was jealous of Y/N in almost every way possible. One of them was the freedom she got from her parents. She had the freedom to explore her passion and what she wanted to do in the future. Y/N was currently in her gap year, working as a barista in a cafe in the next town. Her parents were very supportive of her decision. However, she had to work for at least four days. It didn’t matter what kind of job, but she had to work. 
“But it was fine. For some reason, we had a very long rush hour. The time flew by,” she continued, sharing some weird situations with some customers. 
When they arrived at the living room, the doors to the terrace were wide open, and in the distance, Y/N's little brother and sister were playing football in the garden. They also walked to the terrace but decided to sit on the lounge set.
James leaned back, the cushions soft against his back. “Sounds like you had quite a day.” He looked at her, admiring her resilience and positive outlook. He wished he had the same kind of freedom and support to pursue his passions without the weight of expectations bearing down on him. He unbuttoned the buttons of his sleeves and rolled them up his arms.
“Ey,” Y/N mumbled and picked up a lost button from the sofa. She held it up between her thumb and wise finger. “Just because you don’t like it, you don’t have to sprinkle it around,” she smirked and grabbed his arm left, unfolding the sleeve, checking if it belonged to this side. 
“I just wanted to mark my territory.” 
“Like you haven’t done that enough here,” she replied. She rolled the left sleeve up again, unfolding the right side. “Bingo.” She gave James the button. “Let me get the sewing kit.”
“It’s alright. I will let someone fix it at my place. Besides, I have enough white shirts.”
“It’s just a two-minute job. Besides, I know it is a new white shirt, and it’s too good to just throw it away because one button is missing, James.” 
Before he could say anything about it, she had walked away. The left corner of his mouth curled up, and he looked at the button. He could hear her talk to her dad in the distance. He still heard some soft beats from the music upstairs, and he heard the sibling dynamic between the kids playing football.
Y/N sat down beside him again. “Arm,” she said and made a gesture. She opened the small box, probably an old cigar box and got a needle and some wire. 
James placed his arm on her lap. “Don’t poke me,” he reminded her. 
She took a deep breath and lifted her head, straightening her face. “Shit, there goes my plan.” 
“I need to stay away from you.”
She licked her lips and casually shrugged. “I know where to find you,” she said. 
“Oo, now I’m scared.”
Y/N pointed the needle at him and laughed. “As you should.” 
“Aah, no, I don’t want to die. Don’t do it to me,” his voice raised, but his face stayed neutral. 
She sighed and sewed the button back on the sleeve. “Hopeless.”
The music became louder. The loud music was blasting from his speaker when the Y/N’s older brother stood in front of the lounge set. He was moving along with the beat, standing in front of Y/N and James purposely. Y/N gave him a side eye, which gave him a satisfied reaction; he smiled. 
“Turn that music down, mate,” Y/N’s dad said and put some plates with cutlery on the table outside. “Put on a chill playlist and set the table, will you?” 
“Si Señor,” the brother said. He looked at his little sister and James. “The best friends are together again,” he said and walked over to James. “Hey, man.” He wanted to go for a handshake, but it was a weird high-five since Y/N was working on James’ right hand. 
James returned the high-five with a chuckle, the easy banter between them adding to the relaxed atmosphere. “Hey, good to see you,” he greeted Y/N’s brother.
“Likewise,” the brother replied, shooting James a friendly grin before turning to Y/N. “So, what’s the occasion? You two planning a secret rendezvous or something?”
Y/N rolled her eyes, but there was a playful glint in them. “Nothing like that. Just fixing James’ button.”
“Ah, the old ‘sewing buttons’ trick,” the brother winked. “Classic move. By the way, Y/N, where is mum?” 
“Work,” Y/N replied. “Well, I think she will be home any second now.” Looking up, she saw her mum walking in the living room. “Speaking of the devil.” She nodded towards her mum. 
“Ah, mother!” The brother said, widening his arms and greeting his mum. 
Y/N bit her lip while focusing. “Oh, this is light pink wire,” she mumbled and looked sorry at him. “Sorry. I can do it over with white wire.”
James widely smiled and shook his head. “It’s fine,” he mentioned. Every time that I wear this shirt, it will remind me of you,” he winked. 
“Sure,” she dodged his words. “Anyway, will you be joining us for dinner?” A smile curved on her lips. 
“Would love to,” he smiled. He didn’t want to say that her dad already invited him, since she looked excited when asking. 
Y/N nodded and continued sewing. 
They fell into a comfortable silence, the music now a soothing background melody as they finished sewing the button back onto James’ sleeve. Once they were done, Y/N leaned back, admiring their handiwork.
“James, sweetheart,” Y/N’s mum cheerfully said. “It’s good to see you.”
“Good evening,” James politely smiled. 
“Looks good as new,” Y/N declared, a satisfied smile on her face as she rolled up his sleeve again.
“Thanks, Y/N,” James replied, giving her a playful nudge.
The entire family gathered around the dining table outside and made sure the table was all set. They all sat down to enjoy the dinner Y/N’s dad had prepared. James felt a sense of gratitude wash over him. Surrounded by the warmth of Y/N’s family. The conversations they held during dinner were filled with laughter and funny expressions. 
Then Y/N’s mum wanted to invite James for tomorrow. “We are going to sail tomorrow. Would you like to join? Maybe you can ask Lydia, too,” she proposed. 
A sparkle came in Y/N’s eyes when she looked at James, hoping he would say yes. “We can pick Lydia up tonight, so you both can stay here for the night. Then we don’t have to rush tomorrow morning,” Y/N proposed while looking at her parents, who seemed to agree. 
“Yes, I would love to. I will be there, but I will ask Lydia,” James widely smiled.
118 notes · View notes
beomiracles · 3 days
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「 CRIMINAL CONSCIENCE 」
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SYNOPSIS moving rapidly through your career as one of the leading female investigators, you never once encountered a case you couldn't crack. though you never expected for your past mistakes to come back and haunt you in the form of an ex lover, accused of murder.
wc -> 4.3k
pairings criminal!beomgyu x investigator!reader warnings for tape 04 mentions of substance abuse, implied sexual themes, HIGHLY suggestive sexual content but not full on smut, attempts at SA (refrain from reading if you are easily triggered by such themes!)
GENERAL WARNINGS ─ this story contains dark themes, portraying unhealthy and toxic relationships as well as substance abuse. PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK.
✎ NOTE, this story is partly told in flashbacks. beware of time stamps as present and past is mixed throughout the story.
the tape recordings
tape 04 ─ I know you
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April 17th 2022 
Beomgyu’s car was just like you had imagined it. A sleek black model with tinted windows and dark leather seats. It ran far smoother than your old rundown Volvo and as Beomgyu swiftly passed the cars crowding the roads, you leaned back against the cool leather.
The silence was making you rather uncomfortable but you had little clue of how to break it. It was awkward enough that you were currently in his car; after yesterday’s events you were unsure on what terms the two of you were on. 
You decide to take a safe route and ask what you thought was a reasonable question. “Where are we going?” Internally cringing at how weak your voice sounded as you shifted in the passenger seat. Beomgyu’s gaze is fixed on the road in front of him despite only keeping one hand leisurely on the wheel. “Where was your friend supposed to take you?” His voice is casual and seemingly unbothered by the awkward situation. 
“Ah, she was just taking me home, I didn’t have my car with me so…” you trail off as you pick at the polish on your nails. With his free hand Beomgyu swipes a finger over the screen in between your seats, the device flashes with a small GPS and a white search bar — he motions for you to type your address in. 
“Where’s your car?” he bluntly asks and your finger almost slips across the small screen. “Oh, at..at home”, you mumble as you finish typing the address, the device immediately shows a suitable route and Beomgyu casts a quick glance in its direction. “Why?” he then inquires and you wonder if he always pried this much into people’s lives. Yet you found yourself wanting to tell him, wanting to be open with him. 
“One of my classmate’s gave me a ride”, you explain as you fiddle with the hem of your bag, placed neatly on the floor between your legs. He hums next to you as his fingers drum against the steering wheel. “You like your classmates?” His question catches you off guard, did it really matter if you liked them or not? What was it to him anyways, he only ever saw you for sex. 
“I guess”, you shrug, albeit unsure of how to properly answer. Beomgyu doesn’t say anything and for a moment the same stale silence fills the car. It was hard, making conversation with him; you never knew how to answer the questions he threw at you — in turn you didn’t know how to counter said questions with ones of your own. He often seemed to dismiss indulging in any personal information regarding himself, yet he found no shame in dwelling deep into the details of your own life. 
It made you wonder what kind of fascination he had with you. You trusted what Kayla had said about him not seeing the same woman twice, so what was his deal with you? Was there something more behind all the occasions in which he’d asked to see you, was there a reason he had picked you up today, and why were you not made aware of his intentions. 
The feel of his ring clad hand on your left thigh startles you from your thoughts, fingers snaking between your legs to rest at your inner thigh. “Music?” he asks and you hum, “sure..” He nods toward the small screen on the dash, “pick somethin’ good yeah.” 
Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, your fingers swipe across the many artists displayed. “Do you like BTS?” It was seemingly impossible to read him, his music taste? even less. Beomgyu huffs as he squeezes the flesh of your thigh gently, “that boy band?” you nod, finger hesitating over the play button. You weren’t in any way ashamed of your music taste, but when in the presence of Beomgyu you somehow felt the need to please him, even if that meant changing minor details about yourself. 
He quirks a brow in the direction of your hesitating hand, “sure why not”, he shrugs and you breathe out a small sigh of relief. The rest of the car ride is spent mostly in silence save for the occasional interrogating questions fired by Beomgyu as his fingers trace your inner thigh. 
At last; after twenty long minutes, the car comes to a stop outside of your apartment complex. Finally feeling some sort of relief you step out of the car, only to frown when Beomgyu does the same. “Wait, why are you getting out?” the question slips past your unguarded lips and Beomgyu raises a brow as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I’ll see where you live”, it was a statement not a question — with those exact words he marched inside the building. 
It takes two tries to get your rattling keys into the keyhole and you swallow a gulp as the door to your small apartment swings open. The flat was small and the building rather old, but you had decorated the place to the best of your abilities — it was home for you, oh and…meeeow~ 
Your furry roommate gazes up at you with an expectant look as her tail pads against the floor behind her. “This is Nala”, you say as you give the small cat a few scratches. “She’s not very fond of new people so…” your words fall short as Nala trots over to where Beomgyu stands and brushes against his legs in a loving manner, “or not..” you awkwardly chuckle at your cat's odd behavior. 
Leaning down to give the feline a few pats, Nala purrs in response to his actions and Beomgyu smirks, “cute little thing you are.” It felt strange, seeing Beomgyu so affectionate towards anything really. “I didn’t take you for a cat person.” Your comment makes him raise a questioning brow, “no?” You shake your head, “well, you sort of strike me as more of a dog person..” 
He seems to be considering your words as he lets go of your cat to stand back up, “I like dogs”, he shrugs as a small smirk creeps its way to his lips. He takes a step in your direction, “dogs are loyal, pliant even.” Upon finishing his sentence he’s merely inches from you, pressing you up against the wall of your small hallway without as much as touching you. From this close the pungent smell of his college invades your senses, it’s a familiar and intoxicating scent. He smelled almost minty, refreshing, like the blow of the wind on a cold winter day. 
Blinking a few times, your eyes regain focus as they meet his dark ones. “Dogs are predictable”, he drawls, “cats aren’t.” What did that have to do with being a dog or cat person? You had always thought the question to be rather trivial — let people like what they like. Was there really more to what type of pet you kept. 
“You’re right”, he then says, “I don’t like cats.” Though he quickly casts a glance in the direction of Nala who was busy cleaning herself as she sat by the shoe rack. “But I like your cat”, he states and you frown, “Nala?” Beomgyu nods as he turns his attention back to you, “you need to earn a cat's trust. Usually that is not something I waste my time with”, his voice is low and you can feel his fingers feathery touch along your waist. 
“Perhaps with this one I will”, he murmurs, dark eyes piercing yours in such a way that would easily get anyone entranced. His words suddenly have you wondering if Nala was still the subject of your conversation. Though you get no chance to question him further before he pulls away and ventures into your living room. 
You quickly scramble to follow him as Beomgyu wastes no time in grazing the tips of his fingers along your crowded bookshelves; not hesitating to pick a few framed photos up to inspect them closer. Awkwardly rocking on your heels, you watch as he practically searches your living room. “This your mom?” he questions as he flips the picture frame to face you, squinting slightly you nod, “from when we visited Madrid…” you mumble. Beomgyu hums as he places the photograph back in its designated place. 
“Do you uh, want anything to drink…tea, coffee?” Your attempt to keep him from prying seems futile as Beomgyu shakes his head. Instead he nods toward the open bathroom door, “go get yourself dolled up.” Your brows draw together in a frown, parting your lips in an unspoken question, which Beomgyu quickly beats you to, “I’m takin’ you out, dollface”. Taking you out? Oh...OH! He was taking you out! 
“I, s-sure..yeah– I’ll, I’ll be thirty minutes.” You stammer before quickly excusing yourself to the bathroom. Thirty minutes? What on earth were you thinking, there was no way you’d be able to get ready in thirty minutes. Let us hope that he has as little perception of time as he has of others' privacy, you thought as you pull your shirt over your head. 
February 20th 2024 – PRESENT TIME
“What’s going on?” Yeonjun sighs as he leans against the desk opposite you, hands digging deep into his pockets and a concerned look on his face. You grasp the glass of water tightly in your hands as you focus on the way the cold liquid moves rather than your senior’s question. 
After the scene you had caused over at the house, Yeonjun had pulled you aside to talk to you in private. “I seriously need you to tell me what’s happening”, his voice sounds tired and you can tell that he is too. You wanted to tell him, you had been wanting to tell someone, anyone — for the past ten months. But truthfully, you didn’t know how to. 
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as your fingers anxiously tap against the glass. “Look, if you can’t do it, then it’s totally fine”, he runs a hand through his hair, “but you need to tell me so that I can get someone else on the case.” As soon as those words leave his lips you find yourself shaking your head, Yeonjun lets out a frustrated sigh as his hand drags across his face. 
You knew that you were probably doing more harm than good being on this case, but letting it go to someone else, you just couldn’t. Why? You didn’t know. Perhaps it had to do with some fucked up part of you that thought you knew Beomgyu, that you could read him in ways others couldn’t — that was of course a lie. For the one year you spent in his presence, you couldn’t figure him out, not once, and you were sure you never would, no one would. 
“I can tell that it’s affecting you”, your colleague murmurs, it was obvious that Yeonjun cared a lot for you and in any other instance you would have listened to him. This was different. When you finally lift your gaze to look at him your eyes are filled to the brim with glistening tears. “I have to do this”, you whisper and your senior looks at you with so much pity that you thought you might just break down in front of him. 
Shaking your head once more, the first droplet falls from your eye, “I’m afraid that if I don’t…it’ll never be okay again.” Your voice comes out shaky and pitched, but you can’t find it in you to care in the slightest. Perhaps this was the closure you needed, to complete this case and write Beomgyu out of your life once and for all. So you told yourself. The emotions you were feeling, were all old feelings resurfacing. Nothing you wouldn’t be able to handle. 
Yeonjun sighs as he pushes himself off the desk. “Alright”, he agrees, “but you’ll promise to tell me when things get too much.” Wiping your face with the back of your hand, you nod, “thank you…” Your senior nods, “you’re one of my best investigators”, he says as he hands you a tissue, “don’t forget that you’re also human.” 
April 17th 2022 
You didn’t recognize the restaurant Beomgyu had taken you to, situated on a lonely and dark street, yet the diner was filled with people. Beomgyu on the other hand seemed more than at home in your current environment as he happily chatted with both waiters and the people sitting by the nearby tables. 
Their conversations ranged from the most dull and daily topics, but there was something else lingering in the air. Similar to that of the club Beomgyu had taken you to on your second encounter. Whatever it was it clung to him, the multiple glances from almost everyone in the room did not go unnoticed by you. Everyone seemed to know who he was, yet as you sit in front of him, you suddenly feel like you’re the only one in the room who doesn’t. 
Beomgyu turns his attention toward you once more, gaze lingering on the red dress you had carefully picked out. A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, “you look wonderful, dollface.” The simple compliment manages to bring color to your face and you bite back a small smile, “thank you.” Suddenly you don’t mind that you might be the only person who had yet to be made aware of who he really was. Why should that matter when he was with you, and not them. 
Your waitress had been quick to bat her lashes toward him, to pout her lips and bite on her pen as Beomgyu ordered. Double checking and checking again that she got it right, almost tripping over her feet as she leaned forward to ‘hear’ him better. All the while she had almost forgotten to take your order, and when she finally turned to you, it was with a heavy sigh and a nasty look on her face. Beomgyu hadn’t seem to notice her blunt advances, if he did he simply didn’t acknowledge them.
Perhaps that was what you got for being seated with the most handsome man in the room. Going out like this, at a restaurant, it had to mean that he was serious about you, right? At least in your books it did. You could admit that you were slightly traditional when it came to dating, but going out to dinner — well it wasn’t exactly something that fuck buddies did. 
“What’s got your mind so preoccupied, dollface?” Beomgyu sets his glass down as he studies your distant expression. Fiddling with the foot of your own glass, you avoid his gaze to the best of your abilities. “I…well” — the low vibrations erupting from your phone shakes you off path and you glance toward the screen. Beomgyu doesn’t say anything as he rests his chin atop his intertwined fingers; seemingly unbothered and not expectant of an explanation.  
“It…it’s Kayla, she’s asking about our next meet up.” You give him one anyway. You knew that you didn’t owe him anything, yet you found yourself wanting to reassure him, not that you were sure such a thing was needed. “You’re busy tomorrow”, he suddenly declares and you glance at him in confusion. He nods toward your phone, “tell your friend, you’re busy tomorrow.” 
His words left much to desire, but as Beomgyu took another sip of his drink, you knew that he wasn’t going to let on to any further information. Shoving your phone into your bag, you nod “alright, I’ll do that.” 
As another waiter comes to clear your now empty plates; all the while Beomgyu mutters something in his ear, you’re suddenly left with no more distractions. The lingering eyes on your table become the center of your attention. Why did they keep staring like that? You had done nothing to garner their attention yet you felt like there was a huge light pointed right at you. Maybe it was all in your head, maybe you were going crazy. 
In the midst of it, you fail to notice how Beomgyu watches you, studying your almost frightened face. The small hum leaving his lips snap your eyes back toward him and he looks at you expectantly. Swallowing a gulp your eyes flicker between the crowded tables and him. “They’re…they’re staring” you whisper, Beomgyu doesn’t spare your audience a glance, his gaze fixed on you. 
“Do you not like it?” he mumbles, studying your face closer, as if searching for clues allowing him to enter your mind. Biting your lower lip you give a small nod. Before you get another word out, he gets up and you scramble to do the same. With his hand on the small of your back, Beomgyu guides you past the many tables and to a secluded corner of the room, near the exit. His breath is warm against your ear as he whispers, “stay here and I’ll pay”, before pressing a kiss to your cheek. That was certainly not something fuck buddies did. 
Feeling shielded by the dim light of your corner, you lean against the cool wall as your eyes flutter closed. Maybe Kayla had been wrong about him, just maybe. The sounds of approaching footsteps sends a wave of relief through you, he was already coming back. 
But it’s not Beomgyu’s voice that breaks the silence surrounding you. “You new around here miss?” the raspy voice of an unknown man has your eyes shooting open as you push yourself off the wall. “I would be sure to remember a face like your own”, he then adds as he eyes your frame with a little too much interest. 
He was tall. Possibly even taller than Beomgyu, and older too, he had to be in his mid thirties at least. Yet he seemed persistent in introducing himself, “the name’s Han-jae”, he reaches for your hand but you quickly withdraw it. “Ah, I’m afraid that I’m with someone for tonight..” you stammer as your eyes feverishly scan for Beomgyu. 
The man chuckles, “I bet you are, pretty thing like you, it would be pure luck to find you alone.” He leans closer and the sudden stench of alcohol invades your senses, “but it seems I just did”, a nasty smirk grows on his lips as his hand grabs a firm hold of your wrist. 
Your heart practically leaps out of your chest as the man's tight grip on your arm threatens to cut off all blood flow. Suddenly you regret not taking the self defense lessons together with Kayla, it would have perhaps saved you in a situation like this. “I…I really am here with someone..” Your meek attempts at persuading the strange man had little effect as the smirk on his lips only grew. 
“I’m sure you are, doll” he muses as he pulls you closer to him. Upon coming almost face to face with him, you can make out his bloodshot eyes and widened pupils; he was on something, that much you could tell. A ring clad hand suddenly joins the man’s hold on your wrist and your gaze snaps in the direction of none other than Beomgyu. 
Despite his intoxicated state the man seems to recognize him as the grip on your wrist falters. “Mr Choi” he exclaims, uncertainty flashing across his features. Beomgyu lets go of his hand with a small grimace before disregarding the man and turning to you. “You okay, dollface?” he asks as his fingers trace along your jaw, you give him a small nod as you cradle your sore wrist. 
“‘S a pretty little thing you got there”, the man comments, his speech growing slurred. Beomgyu’s fingers drop from your face as he casts a glance in the direction of the man. “What?”
The man grins as he motions toward you, “almost mistook her for a doll, pretty girl was standin’”, he hiccups, “all alone, but now I see who she was waiting on.” Beomgyu doesn’t say anything as he regards the man with a sultry look. Obliviously, the man continues to ramble, “but you’ll do me the favor of letting me know when you’re done”, the grin on his lips grows, “I’ll be happy to take up wherever you left off–” 
Whack!
The man’s words are cut short as Beomgyu’s fist comes in contact with his jaw, metal rings clashing against his teeth. He stumbles backward as he grabs onto his face with a small whine. Your own jaw falls open as the scene before you unfolds and if your heart nearly beat out of your chest earlier, this certainly didn’t help. 
Beomgyu doesn’t spare him a second glance, and neither does anyone else…In fact no one batted as much as an eye in the direction of the wounded man. Their conversations flowed without interruption and suddenly everyone avoided even glancing Beomgyu’s way. 
Too stunned to even speak, you let him guide you out of the restaurant, you don’t question him when he opens the door to the backseat rather than the passenger one, and neither do you when he gets inside along with you, nor when he slides down on the floor between your legs. 
The cool metal of his rings sends small sparks through your body as his hands caress your inner thighs. He lets out a soft sigh and as his eyes meet yours, you suddenly find it hard to fault him for punching a man. “Dollface?” his breath is hot against your naked skin. Swallowing another gulp you glance down toward him, yes? your words barely above a whisper. 
Beomgyu sighs as his hands push past the hem of your crimson dress. “You need to be careful”, he murmurs as his fingers trace the outline of your panties, earning a soft gasp from you when they brush against your clothed clit. “There are tons of dangerous men out there” he presses a soft kiss to your thigh. 
“Men who won’t hesitate to take advantage of you.” Fingers slipping past the fabric of your panties as they caress your already glistening folds. The cold rings against your warm core pulls a small gasp from you. His touch clouds your mind and turns your vision hazy. “Who knows what could’ve happened to you if I hadn’t been there”, he mumbles as his thumb grazes your clit, eliciting a sweet moan from you. 
He retracts his hand and your hips buck in an attempt to chase his fingers. The same fingers that hook around the lining of your panties and with a harsh tug he pulls them down your thighs and past your knees. “Promise me you’ll be careful, dollface” he breathes against your wet cunt and you nod as you squirm beneath him. 
“Need to hear you say it”, he groans as his tongue drags across your folds, earning a soft cry from you, “promise me.” His voice sounded almost pleading and you clenched around nothing. “I will, I will, I will…I’ll be careful I promise”, you ramble as your fingers intertwine in his dark hair, twisting and pulling at it. “That’s what I wanted to hear”, he murmurs before pressing a kiss to your cunt. 
February 20th 2024 — PRESENT TIME
You were supposed to have gone home earlier, a lot earlier. In fact Yeonjun had offered to take you home by lunch, yet you had declined. Instead you found yourself lingering by your office as the hours passed by. When 5 o’clock hit, your colleagues began venturing home, you stayed. By 7 the office was completely empty. 
Soon you started walking, though unsure of why, or where your goal was, you walked. Floor up and floor down, mindlessly passing the multiple vacant offices and meeting rooms. At last you found yourself by the interrogation rooms, perhaps you thought it would ease the lump in your throat to go there, but it didn’t. So you kept walking. 
You don’t know how you ended up at Beomgyu’s cell. Your feet led you to the few rows of empty rooms, all but one. The door only allowed a small window in which you could gaze into the room, it was dark but you knew that he was there. 
Did you miss him? Was that why you were here? You had told yourself that you wanted answers, but did you really? — were you even ready to hear them? You should turn back, go home, sleep, possibly call in sick tomorrow. Instead you knock. 
Three soft knocks later and a small light is flicked on somewhere inside the room. A trembling hand slides the small window to the side, allowing you to hear him, and him to hear you, to touch you even, but you wouldn’t allow that. 
Beomgyu doesn’t seem surprised at your sudden appearance, a smirk spreading across his lips, he had expected you to visit him. “Dollface”, the name sends your heart into a minor frenzy, “it’s a little late to be working still, no?” he asks as he tilts his head to the side, studying your unblinking expression. 
You swallow, “perhaps”. He chuckles and you’re once again reminded of how hard you thought he was to read. Maybe that was what made him so intriguing to you. “Yet you’re here”, he murmurs, eyes glinting in the same way they had when you first met. 
“But you shouldn’t be”, he states and you know that he’s right. 
You should most definitely not be here right now. But as your gaze meets his you suddenly realize why you are. Because despite everything a small part of you clings onto the faint hope — the hope that he isn’t what you know him to be. Because a small part of you wants to believe that Beomgyu is innocent.
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94 notes · View notes
mediumgayitalian · 10 hours
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“Can I come over tomorrow?”
Nico’s hands still on the stubborn pillowcase. “To…my cabin?”
“Yes.”
“Um.” He resumes, sliding slowly away from Will’s wide round eyes, stuffing the puffy square of feathers into its fabric prison. The ghost of geese past are not happy with him. He is their prince. They will submit. “Yeah? You could all those other times, too.”
“Yeah, but I want to come over.”
“Yes,” Nico agrees, wondering if this is perhaps one of those moments Kayla warned him about. Has it reached day five of Will not sleeping? He doesn’t think so. He was napping when Nico came into the infirmary this morning to help with the tidying he promised to do. At least he was drooling enough that Nico hopes he was sleeping. “You mentioned.”
“So I can?”
“Yes, Will.”
Maybe it’s just an American thing. Nico has been noticing some Moments lately. He’s not sure if all teenagers have unanimously decided on some code they’d like to speak in during the few months he was busy defeating his great grandmother, or if maybe he’s finally stuck around long enough to notice, but nobody says what they mean, nowadays.
(He has gathered, thus far, that ‘on fleek’ is a synonym for ‘aflame’, although ‘yeet’ continues to evade him. Perhaps because Cecil and Lou appear to have indulged in the sick delight of replacing their every word with the term with the sole purpose to Confuse. Or perhaps, as Will has so indicated, they have each endured one concussion to many and are beyond any hope.)
“Sick!” That one Nico knows, at least. “I’ll come by after my morning shift? Connor got cursed by the Hypnos, Hecate, and Aphrodite cabins this morning so I have to do brain surgery before he forgets how to feel genuine human connection again, but I’ll be done by noon. Probably. I mean, Connor has a thick skull, genuinely I mean, which is why his lobotomy has been delayed so many times, but so long as I —”
It has been under Nico’s notice lately that Will eyes, genuinely, sparkle. He has read the cliche time and time again and rolled his eyes almost every time: diamonds sparkle. Water sparkles. Snow sparkles. Eyes reflect, and sometimes glow with reflection. They do not sparkle. To claim a set of eyes are sparkling is to profess to the world and all capable of registering your words that you are a brainless idiot who cannot dredge up from the depths of your mind, the most barren and bereft back corners, a single unique or clever comparison; a minutely original way to describe excitement or animation.
And yet.
Will is indeed very animated, and very excited about very many things, and it shows on his face; in the wideness of his grins, the springing mass of his curls, the stilted and flailing gilt of his languid limbs. It also shows, perhaps most obviously, in his genuinely magnificent eyes — Nico has seen the Logan Sapphire. He has touched the precious thing with reverent hands, stared in awe as it thrust out the light shine upon it like the golden ichor of Ouranous swirling with the sweet saltwater to birth Love Incarnate. He knows glittering, he knows gleaming, shimmering and shining and twinkling.
Will’s eyes sparkle, like the very tip of a mountaintop, like the crackling ends of a flame, like dewdrops on spider silk. It is transfixing. It is alluring.
“—ico. Nico! Hello-o?”
It is also a trap.
“Sounds great,” Nico says loudly, voice like cold soda over vanilla ice cream. He clears his throat, twice, to no avail. His vision begins to blur as the heat pouring off of his face warps the air. “Um. See you then?”
Will nods, or at least Nico hopes he does. His curls bounce, anyway. They are hard to miss. They remind Nico tangentially of how laughter sounds, unimpeded by shame; how the shimmering satin of a ribbon would curl and bend under the smooth slide of the scissor’s blade.
(His father’s circuit of jesters often included poets playwrights. They also doubled as Nico’s babysitters. Surely no lasting consequences, that.)
“Yes!” He flashes a smile, then, and it becomes imperative to note that his eyes squint at the force of it, and his slightly-too-big teeth brush his bottom lip, and he has, in fact, on each cheek, a dimple.
Now, Will is often and even frequently called Apollo Junior by just about every living soul in camp, up to and including Immortal Camp Director And Horse, Chiron; and uproariously once even Mr D, God of Wine. Allegedly, as taunted by Kayla, even by Will’s own mother. The golden hair and unfortunate habit of winking and legs for days do most definitely create an image.
Nico, however, contrarian he be, must deny: he has seen Apollo. Apollo is beautiful and golden and charming, but Will is not quite his spitting image. Will, more aptly, is the son of the Sun. He glows; the glare of his smile leaves impressions behind in the cells one’s eyes, the glide of his limbs is almost dragging, languid. To look at him is to commit yourself to blinding. To seek so desperately the solace of the light as to ignore the unsettling sting of the burn.
“I can’t wait!”
As a blissful cloud moving in front of the solar system’s brightest star saves your eyes the eternal fate of darkness, Will’s duty so saves Nico from an eternity of shadow. He returns, humming softly and horribly, to his work, sifting through folders and updating patient files, and Nico exhales the breath setting foundations in his lungs, slumping forward in fervent relief. A melancholic reprieve from the summer rays, if only for a moment.
He waves goodbye, or at least he hopes that he does, rushing out the infirmary doors and tripping down the rickety porch steps.
“Hurrying somewhere, Nicholas Claus?” drawls Mr. D, throwing darts a perilously balanced apple atop the horns of a satyr bleating in morse code.
“That was not even an attempt,” responds Nico, and hurries away before he can be dolphinized. Dolphinified? Made into a bottle-nosed beast. (Why bottle? Of all comparisons to make, who decided bottles were the utmost separate object to which the snout of the slippery beasts should be named? Oh, wait, drunk people. Bottles. Okay. Mystery solved.)
He manages, in his heroic retreat across the common, not to destroy entire swathes of grass and plants, a feat for which the Muses could perhaps write epics about. Truly he is capable of the utmost restraint and self-control. He does raise several full sized wolf skeletons, but they seem primarily preoccupied with hunting down the the Stolls, so a win-win as far as Nico is concerned. Probably not for Connor, who is apparently cursed or concussed, he doesn’t remember exactly, but he has managed thus far with his startling amount of daily braincell loss so by statistic and happenstance he is bound to survive another incident.
“There has to be away to shut myself off,” Nico says, out loud to himself, proceeding the slam of his cabin door and the heavy breathing upon it. He turns to his altar. “You mentioned an off button, Father. I don’t suppose it has been successfully implemented.”
No answer comes forth. He indulges in a brief moment of self pity, wherein the Nico who lives in his brain clears his throat, digs around the messy confines of his mind to find an imaginary black hoodie, slips it on, digs around again for a dagger, and stabs himself, choking and twitching pitifully. Real Nico then walks with great purpose to the exact geological centre of the stone cabin.
“Okay,” he says again. He nods, once, narrowing his eyes in determination. The Nico in his brain opens one curious eyelid. (Does Will do psychiatric assessments?) “Okay, this is. Hm.”
It is not the first time they have been alone together, after all.
In the weeks following Gaea’s defeat and Will Solace’s nonstop, irritating persistence, Nico has been thrust in his proximity an incredible number of times. From his three day stay, during which he was simply so unconscious for so long his father was concerned enough to manifest onto the mortal plane and poke at his soul until he responded, to his unofficial indoctrination (ha) as a nurse, to camp clean-up efforts, to cabin renovation, to general life — they have become friends. Coworkers, at least. Together they make the camp a little more bearable for everyone in it, including Nico. It is rewarding work. It is illuminating work; Will is a good teacher, and he is funny, and he is good company (and he happens to have very long legs that he does not bother to cover up very often and Nico has eyes that do what they please). They have been in Nico’s cabin together several times over the last few weeks.
Never before has Will come over without some kind of stated purpose.
At least, not and absence he has made so obvious. True, the renovations took longer than expected, and the paint on the east wall is smudged from where Nico shoved Will, shrieking, off the stepstool, and they have perhaps, on occasion, used Nico’s illegal Wii when they were meant to be helping Annabeth make plans for Capture the Flag, but —
But.
Intent.
Is important.
It has been made abundantly clear to Nico over the summer that he has friends upon which he can rely. Reyna has made a point to Iris Message him at whatever Roman tryhard time she believes he should be awake, prompting an attempted murderous shadow travel that left him unconcious in Missouri and at the unfortunate end of many people’s shouting. And Will’s friends, who can perhaps at this point be called his friends also, have created a game entitled “How Many Grapes Can We Flick At Nico During Lunch Before He Goes Ballistic And Sends Us To Purgatory For A Little While” (four), which they are inclined and inspired to play every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Piper enjoys dragging him around to do Things. Jason is just around constantly. (Does he sleep? Nico should check on that properly.)
He had a point, somewhere. He’s sure he did.
It was maybe the impending anxiety attack, helpfully informs Brain Nico.
“Ah,” regular Nico replies, then grapples around for his least favourite pillow, slams it into his face, and screams at the top of his lungs for several minutes.
Brain Nico decides once again that commentary is the way.
I think we are an all powerful demigod of something, he muses. Dirt, maybe? Bad vibes? I can’t quite remember.
“The dead?” inquires regular Nico.
Do you think those years isolated in the Labyrinth perhaps situated us firmly on the shores of mentally unwell? responds he, blissfully unhelpful.
“I think that was Tartarus, actually,” says regular Nico, and promptly banishes his brain self to the deepest recesses of his mind, among memories of the taste of liquid fire and Calculus.
With the remaining, functioning (well.) part of his brain, he places both palms on the cool floor and attempts to focus.
Juicy Fruit It gets right to ya Juicy salt Hmmm Juicy Fruit, The taste the taste that’s —
For the love of all holy things, Nico begs his brain. It doesn’t work, but what ever really goes right in his life, so he pushes past the increasingly louder replays of eighties commercial jingles and maps out the ground below the cabin floor, pushes through the layers of underground.
Ah. Perfect.
He pulls up the very aptly placed skeleton of a cat, letting it scratch and sniff about his cabin before cautiously approaching him.
“You will be sure to tell it to me straight,” Nico says solemnly, holding out his hand. The cat bobs its nasal cavities in and out of Nico’s fingers and, apparently deciding him to be worthy of its attention, rams its skull against his knuckles. Nico snorts, running a fingernail along its cranial sutures and grinning as its purring echoes in his mind. “You seem very wise.”
The cat’s caudal vertebrae rattle in indignation, miffed at the mere idea that it could be anything other than wise. Nico is honestly quite impressed by its ability to glare without actual eyeballs, eyelids, or thought power.
“I am going to name you after my sister and pray that’s not weird,” Nico says. “I mean, I don’t think she would mind. You’re pretty cool, actually, and Hazel’s cool, kind of, so. Win win.”
Hazel the Cat seems unbothered by her christening, curling up in Nico’s lap. He runs his hand from cranial base to coccyx, finger dipping and bumping along the ridges of her spines, and settles against the cool floor, attempting to breathe evenly.
“It’s just.” He swallows. It takes a try or two, to work around the massive stone borrowed in his throat, and Hazel the Cat nips playfully at his fingers until his lungs settle again. “Before we had something to do, you know? We’d be cutting bandages, and he’d be all, hey, did you know bandages are mentioned in one of the first ever medical manuscripts and definitely predate it by many hundreds of years, and I would say I did, actually, I talked to the guy who made that clay tablet, and his eyes would get all wide and he’d be like no way, tell me everything, and then I would just talk forever.” Nico huffs. “We had something to talk about, you understand. Something to do.”
Nico tries to imagine what Hazel his Sister would say. Probably something along the lines of you are an impossible person, which is code for I have about as much luck as you do in this century, pal, the best I’ve got is hope for the best and remember adults no longer smack you for standing wrong. Which. Fair.
Hazel the Cat just purrs in his head again. It’s as encouraging as anything, he supposes.
“Am I supposed to have…conversation starters? He likes twizzlers and intentionally bad poetry. Maybe I could do something with that?”
Hazel the Cat shrugs at him.
“It’s not even — okay, it’s not just that, though. What is — how close is close enough in a casual setting? Or too close? How am I meant to greet him? Am I supposed to offer something? Make something? What do I do if there’s a lull in conversation? Or if it’s all lulls? Oh, gods, how much silence is socially appropriate —”
Hazel the Cat twists in his hold, meeting his eyes as if to say well I don’t think you’ll be struggling with that last one.
“Shush,” he tells her, but his mouth is twitching. “I’m just — I don’t want him to finally realize I’m weird. Or boring, gods. He’s such a hyper person, you know? He never stops. And I am supposed to entertain him! I think!”
This time he can actually hear his sister’s voice, in the back of his mind — you’re such a dummy. Ringed with fondness from the many times she’s said it to him, shoulders nudged carefully together, head knocked gently against his. You are weird and boring. Most people are.
“Ugh,” he sighs, tipping his head back until it rests against the mattress. “Friendship is hard work.”
Hazel the Cat swishes her tail, rattling the discs of bone like a rattlesnake. It’s a surprisingly soothing sound, like rain pinging softly against his window, or the flutter of the poplar trees outside of his father’s palace. Unconsciously he matches his breathing to it, slowing until it’s even, gentle, deep. His eyes, without any direction from his brain, drift until they blanket his hazy eyes, heavy as stone..
“S’not that serious,” he murmurs to himself, soothed under the weight of his feline friend. “S’just Will, I guess.” A beat. He smiles, slightly, a small, curling thing, mimicking the coiled heat in his belly. “It’s just Will.”
———
part two
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sorrowsdespair · 2 days
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Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let Us In!
Warning: kidnapping, manipulation, isolation, probably ooc Taskforce 141, can be read as Yandere taskforce, not proofread
Prompt: Taskforce find You, a sheltered bunny, who saves and provides a place for them to stay. Can they convince you that they aren't as bad as your family makes the world out to be?
Taken at birth, you had lived with a twisted form of family. A mother that dresses you in pretty clothing to show off, a father would spoils you with items to distract you, a brother who babies you claiming that should always rely on him. Of course, you are never allowed to leave the house deep within the woods sometimes you can play outside in the garden with your brother if you're on your best behavior. Society is dangerous full of mean people who will take advantage of you especially when you become of age.
One day Mother, Father, and Big Brother left. They never came back you’re not sure how long it had been but they did tell you in case this happened there was money hidden away for you to use when food was low.
This is how you spent your next years, alone, only leaving your house to for food and ignoring people who try to talk with you. That was until on the way back, you come across a man slumped on the porch of your house.
Fear and curiosity consumed you as you drew closer to man. He’s eyes were closed and his chest was rising up and down. He was dressed in odd bulky vest and clothing with things strapped to it, and wearing a cap.
Father had told you to never get close to someone especially an unknown man due to the dangers they present. But from where you stand you can see blood seeping through his odd outfit and you remember a show where a little girl playing doctor helping toys who are hurt, you are rarely allowed to watch TV but it would be a secret for you to keep, since it’s the right thing to do besides Mother taught you how to bandages.
So with all your courage and lack of strength, you drag the man in by his armpits carefully placing him in front of the couch. You had left to place the groceries in the kitchen, quickly putting any freezer and fridge stuff away, and left to grab a medical box before returning to the man patching him up after struggling to remove the vest and shirt.
Price was stressed not only did their missing go awry, couldn’t get a heli to pick them up due to a storm rolling in an hour or so, but they all had gotten separate, additional Gaz gone radio silent a moment ago. Thankfully, He managed to regroup with Ghost and Soap.
When Gaz came around he was not expecting to see you over him and neither you did expect him to wake up. Gaz watches you let out a yelp and jump away from him your eyes widen in fear staring back at him.
It takes a lot of coaxing you into talking with him, even when you barely give him much other than your name, this was their parent's house, and you wanted to help him just like the Little girl playing doctor. Just as Gaz’s radio go off with the voice of Ghost call for him to which Gaz response being bombarded with question that he tries his best to answer.
All it was for Gaz to try and convince you to help guide his mates here from the raging storm, and I mean a lot of convincing because you kept cowarding away from him and shaking your head. Gaz didn't feel comfortable do this but he had mentioned how you to help him just like the doc and a doctor helps everyone.
That seemed to work and you told him how there were switches for spotlights outside to the right of the house. You had told him you were never allowed to touch them so he has to do so you don't get in trouble.
You watch as the man who introduced himself as Gaz leaves through the front door, and from the window you watch the lights shine through the night while Gaz moves to stand under the porch. Minutes go by as three figures make their way out from the trees.
Oh, what have you gotten yourself into?
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onceuponastory · 3 days
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somewhere over the rainbow - bucky barnes x reader
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Plot: After their dinner date, Bucky and Y/N dance together. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of Bucky's past and his anxieties. Other than that, just sickly sweet fluff. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: Just a little cute thing I wrote for Bucky!! :) like I said, I've been super busy, away and sick so writing wasn't easy for me, but sweet and fluffy Bucky is literally my bread and butter and I love to make him all fluffy, so I HAD TO!! <3
Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.
It’s a lovely evening in New York, the sun setting and casting a pinky golden glow across the water. Y/N and Bucky walk hand in hand along the river together, smiling and chatting. They’ve just been for dinner together, a welcome respite from Avengers and real life stuff. Just a night enjoying one another’s company.
Y/N snaps some pictures of the fading sunlight, smiling as she turns back to him. “It’s so beautiful out here.” Bucky takes a moment to take everything about her in. Her beautiful figure, her gorgeous face, her smile, her hair….the way the sunlight casts a golden glow onto her, making her look like a goddess. 
God, she’s so beautiful.
He's the luckiest man in the world.
And most of all, he loves the way he wants to kiss her right now, and never come up for air again.
“You’re so stunning. I love you.” Bucky smiles, his voice ever so slightly deeper. He pulls her closer, kissing her passionately. Y/N moans happily, deepening the kiss as her hands go into Bucky’s hair.
~ * ~
After eventually pulling themselves apart, Y/N and Bucky continue their walk down the river. Suddenly, a sound fills the air.
“Somewhere, over the rainbow….” Y/N’s ears perk up, and she pulls Bucky towards the sound. Further down the bank, a crowd surrounds a busker, who’s singing the song. He smiles as he faces the crowd, strumming his guitar. Bucky smiles as Y/N watches, transfixed. He takes her hand, squeezing it as Y/N joins the crowd singing along with the busker. An older couple walks into the middle of the circle, dancing and laughing. Bucky notices Y/N’s gaze turn to the couple, and something deep in his stomach flutters. 
He steps out into the circle, holding out his hand to her. When she doesn’t move, he smirks. “Well?” He chuckles, raising a brow.
“Well, what?”
“Are you going to dance with me, darlin’?”
“Are you sure?” She furrows her brow. She loves Bucky Barnes more than life itself. So much so, she wants to shout it from the rooftops. She wants to show him off to everyone, let everyone see the wonderful man she’s with, and just how lucky she is to love him, and to be loved by him.
But Bucky is far more important to her. She knows how hard it’s been for him to adjust to suddenly being so known, and how unwilling he is to be out in public, even after being pardoned. The last thing she wants is to cause him any more pain.
“Darlin’, it’s a beautiful night, and I wanna dance with the most beautiful woman in the world.” He smiles, still holding out his hand. Y/N watches him smile, and her heart soars. Seeing Bucky Barnes laugh is her favourite thing in the world. And the way he smiles at her makes her feel like the most special woman in the world.
Despite the heat already spreading across her cheeks, Y/N chuckles. “The most beautiful woman in the world? She must be pretty special.” She takes his hand, giving it a small squeeze.
“She is.” Bucky agrees. “She’s the best person I know, actually. And she’s my girl.” He even kisses her hand, like a proper gentleman, which has her swooning.
Bucky leads her closer to the singer, pulling her close and placing his hand on her waist as she takes his hand. Honestly, there’s no rhythm or routine to it. Just two people in love spending time together.
“Somewhere, over the rainbow, bluebirds fly.” Bucky sings softly to her, his sweet, yet husky tone making her smile. He twirls her under his arm, dipping her and keeping a safe grip on her. She swears she’s so full of love for him in that moment that they could burst.
By now, a bigger crowd has formed, and she’s aware of people staring at them and snapping pictures. But honestly, it feels like the pair of them are the only two people in the world. She pulls him closer, kissing him softly.
The song fades out, and the surrounding crowd applauds. Y/N and Bucky bow, laughing. They slip away together, hand in hand. 
Off to their next adventure.
~ * ~
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secretinasecret · 2 days
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In defence of Bridgerton Season 3:
"It feels different."
Many people HATED the second season at first because it didn't have Simon and wasn't "according to the books," but they ended up loving it by the end.
Y'all need to give this one time to marinate fully and see the rest of the season before coming to a conclusion.
It might feel odd, but that is because it has been two years since we saw these actors and these sets. We are bound to be unfamiliar with it at first.
Season three has the exact formula as the last two seasons: Colorful, bright and two leads that look great together on camera.
"It doesn't have any tension."
I assure you that splitting the season into two parts ruined the experience.
"Colin didn't suffer enough."
He did, actually. To some extent. He RAN to catch up to Penelope's carriage in the middle of the night! Not to mention his little angsty scene when he returns from a night out with his "friends," and he simply throws himself onto his bed without bothering to take off the rest of his clothes.
But I hope Colin will truly LOSE his mind when he learns that Penelope is Lady Whistledown. If he doesn't, then yeah, the writers of this show officially failed ME.
We DESERVE to see this man go absolutely batshit crazy and show that he can express emotions other than confusion, longing and boredom.
"Polin had no chemistry."
Polin had EXCELLENT chemistry; y'all just wanted to see a slow burn, enemies-to-lovers like Kathony, but I am afraid every season has a different trope, and it's okay if friends-to-lovers aren't for you.
Luke and Nicola are very good friends on and off set, and you can literally FEEL their chemistry in press interviews.
If you simply didn't feel ANYTHING at all this season, that may be because you do not feel a connection to Colin or Penelope as characters.
I do want to say, though, that these four episodes could have fleshed out Colin's character a bit more.
Book readers and Polin fans know Colin, but new viewers don't. He needed flashbacks to make the rest root for him. How did he become a people pleaser? What is his relationship like with his family? His father? What made him want to decide to travel almost every single year?
Although people finally like him after the carriage scene, they should have liked him from episode one because he is the LEAD.
"Colin gave me the ick."
To each of their own, but Colin acted EXACTLY as he was supposed to in the first two episodes.
He is a PEOPLE PLEASER, so he tries hard to fit into the mould men like Anthony and Simon made for themselves: A rake. He is supposed to make you think, "Oh, this is too much," because it IS.
Even Eloise and Violet point it out to him, and he finally lets go of that disturbing persona when he asks Penelope to marry him.
Look, the man simply wants EVERYONE to like him because he clearly has some issues that the show is failing to dive deep into, but you get the point.
"Too many sub-plots."
Y'all might be onto something with this one, tbh. But I will say that after a few watches, some sub-plots lowkey start to make sense to me, except the Mondrich one.
I have no idea why the Mondrich family are in this season; why do we need to care about their club or their newfound wealth? I will never know.
But Francesca's plotline makes sense; we needed another diamond, therefore, another Bridgerton to debut. Colin also uses Francesca to ultimately ask Violet about how to confess his feelings to Penelope: "What do you wish for Francesca?" is code for, "What do you wish for me, exactly, in the love department?"
The Featherington plotline was also really funny. We needed a comedic relief.
Benedict's plotline HAS to have some sort of importance because Lady Tilly looks like a very powerful woman. She might play a role in Lady Whisteldown's reveal or have a connection to Sophie. If she is simply there to make Benedict look like an aimless man with no goals in life (AGAIN), I will lose it.
Eloise and Cressida's friendship plotline directly affects Penelope, so that makes sense as well.
The Queen's plotline also makes sense, the woman has been trying to unmask Whisteldown for three years now.
At some point, every single plotline starts to look orderly and chronological, at least to me.
So, was part one of this season absolutely amazing?
No.
Was it enjoyable?
Depends; it might be in the 'Hall of Fame' if they can wrap up part two satisfactorily.
And I'll leave it at that.
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