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i-eat-worlds · 8 months
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Alex & Friends Part 10: The Upstairs
Featuring an ambush, a hidden room, and my questionable knowledge of London’s geography.
cw: car crashes, little violence, minor injuries, thumbtacks used as weapons,
INSUPA’s London Center was far nicer and much larger than the one in Prague. Instead of a bland concrete slab on the far outskirts of the city, it inhabited an elegant metal and glass building on the Thames. After so many years in cheap apartments in questionable locations, she’d ended up back on the polished terrazzo floors of INSUPA. They didn’t really spend all that much time inside the building. It was more like a quick pit stop to pick up supplies for the safe house, and find Alex a couple changes of clothes, as well as some toiletries. She also took a small detour to the armory to outfit herself with several knives of choice. Only forty-five minutes after the group had landed, they departed for the safe house.
They split up into two sedans, one gray and one black. Sil, Eric, and Teri took the gray lead car, and Avia, Joseph, Alex, and Aarav sat in the black second car. The car ride was mostly silent, though Aarav groaned a little when Avia said they’d be taking Blackwall Tunnel to cross the river. Driving through the tunnel felt like it took forever. Every now and then, one of the bright orange panels passed by them, breaking up the otherwise monotonous tunnel. Aarav took the time to make some jokes about how poorly London’s transportation was designed. Avia agreed, stewing at the wheel when traffic ground to a halt. Eventually, they saw daylight at the end. However, when both cars emerged from the tunnel, climbing the ramp back to surface, something went very wrong. That was an understatement.
Things went to absolute, utter shit. A large SUV slammed into the back end of the gray car sending it off the road, over the sidewalk, and into a bed of ivy. Avia immediately slammed on the breaks. “We’re under attack!” She yelled. The car jolted forward when another car hit their back end. They’d been rear ended because of the sudden stop. Several people jumped from the SUV. Their heads were covered with balaclavas, and Alex noticed the purple glow that emanated from one of their hands earlier enough to loudly shout at everyone to duck. A blast of kinetic energy hit the car, shattering the windshield. “Go, go, go!” Joseph ordered.
Alex's hands moved like lightning as she pushed open the door. Another blast flew over her head, arcing over the open car door and landing on the pavement several feet from her. This one was green, and it sizzled into the pavement. As she drew one of the knives from her belt, a distressed yelp came from behind her. When she turned around to line up her shot, she found that one of her assailants had been impaled by what seemed to be thousands of thumbtacks. Avia was watching the downed attacker with an attentive eye. The second had been knocked out by Eric. Some sort of acid burn fizzled on his shoulder, but it seemed to be healing quickly. “Is everybody alright?” Eric asked. The group nodded their heads. Teri smiled widely, an empty bag in her hand. The thumbtacks must’ve been her. It was a smart idea. Aarav looked tired, Avia looked terrifying, and Sil looked surprisingly relaxed. Joseph looked concerned, but then again, that appeared to be his permanent facial expression. “We need to get out of doge. I’m assuming the safehouse is compromised. Anybody have shelter options?” Eric said, his brow furrowed in thought.
Aarav half raised his hand. “I know the owner of a pub in Woolwich. They’d probably let us crash in his spare room, o the books.” “Any other ideas?” Eric asked. The group shook their heads. Aarav was the local. “Get what stuff you can from the back of the car while I get a clean-up crew and medical unit out here. Five minutes.”
***
The pub that Aarav had suggested occupied a three-story brick building, the windows framed with gray-blue wood. The door was set back from the street, and above it a gold lettered sign advertised “Blue Oysters Pub.” In the window hung a Gilbert Baker pride flag. Bells jingled as Aarav opened the door, leading the team inside. The pub was empty. Alex was starting to question if it was even open when a person stepped out from behind the bar. Their face lit up with a smile when they made eye contact with Aarav. “Aarav! Long time no see!” they exclaimed, pulling him into a hug.
“Hi, Nyx.” Aarav said, hugging them back. “How’ve you been?” “Good, yeah. You gonna introduce me to all your saving the world friends or what?”
Aarav chuckled a little. “Everybody, this is Nyx, they/them.” Nyx gave a little wave. “This is Eric, he/him, Joseph, he/him, Avia, She/They, Teri, She/Her, and Alex, She/Her.” Aarav pointed to each member of the team as he said their names. “Nice to meet you. Take a seat, I’ll get you some menus.” Nyx said.
Aarav leaned in closer to them. “We’ll denitely eat, but is the Upstairs open for a couple of days?”
Nyx made a face, half concerned, half intrigued. “Follow me.”
Aarav turned around to his group, tilting his head to encourage them to come. They filled in line behind Nyx as they led the group to the back of the room, through a locked door, and up a twisting staircase.
“Welcome to the upstairs,” They said, placing their hand on the wall. A white glow pulsed through their fingertips, and then there was the click on something unlocking. Nyx pushed through the wall, revealing a secret room. It was moderately sized, with no windows, walls painted light blue. Their was, a couch, a table with some chairs, and two bunk beds tucked in the corner. They were well used, and they looked comfortable.“Wi-Fi code is on the table, as is the code for the alley exit.” Eric stepped forward. “Thank you for your hospitality, Nyx. How much do we owe you?”
Nyx smiled a little bit. “You’re friends of Aarav. Room’s free.”
“We’ll eat well, Nyx.” Aaron wrapped them into a hug. “Thank you.” Nyx smiled, planting a kiss on their cheek. “You're welcome.” Aarav ignored the blood rushing to his face as they left the room. Sil would never let him live this down.
Taglist: @pigeonwhumps
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euphoriaonpluto · 3 months
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I'm in desperate need of an arthur returns fic that begins like five years after the fact, when arthur has fully integrated into modern society and him and merlin are married and living normal 21st century lives. only to out of nowhere get sent back in time to when they first met in camelot. so now they have to redo it all while pretending that they aren't essentially millennials with twitter brainrot going insane from caffeine withdrawal
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moregraceful · 2 months
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joey jaykissin' anon here to say boly fuck you are a GENIUS. i actually wasn't thinking about bo at all!! love my type a princess but you are speaking to the real issues... giving gaus exactly what he needs in this time of strife (throwing the ball bad). maybe they should send him back down to the minors under the guise of injury rehab so joey can kiss him and maybe bend him over his lap and patiently finger him. who said that.
I saw an ask so beautiful I started crying??? anon can I give you $5. sometimes an injury IS "brain bad, need to get [ttc subway car screeching drowns me out]" and that's a good enough to reason send a man on a little rehab....a little conditioning stint.... you know what I think we can fix Gaus
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Bro geography is fuckin wild, like with most maps its so easy to forget that:
russia and alaska are practically touching (they look like that one michelangelo painting)
alaska is also fucking way bigger than north american maps usually imply
Theres just. So many islands, everywhere. What are they doing. Why are continents so crumbly
How did people even get to some of those islands? Like dude hawaii is just sitting in the middle of the pacific how did human beings get there
Sandwich islands???
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dreamertrilogys · 2 years
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i’m SO good at directions i could never ever manage to get lost on the way to a library i’ve been to many times in an area i’ve been to even more times
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jadevine · 5 months
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Preindustrial travel, and long explanations on why different distances are like that
Update March 1, 2024: Hey there folks, here's yet another update! I reposted Part 2a (the "medieval warhorses" tangent) to my writing blog, and I went down MORE of the horse-knowledge rabbit hole! https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/741423906984951808/my-post-got-cut-off-so-i-added-the-rest-of-it Update Jan 30, 2024: Hey folks, I've posted the updated version of this post on my blog, so I don't have to keep frantically telling everyone "hey, that's the old version of this post!" https://thebalangay.wordpress.com/2024/01/29/preindustrial-travel-times-part-1/
I should get the posts about army travel times and camp followers reformatted and posted to my blog around the end of the week, so I'll filter through my extremely tangled thread for them.
Part 2 - Preindustrial ARMY travel times: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask
Part 2a - How realistic warhorses look and act, because the myth of "all knights were mounted on huge clunky draft horses" just refuses to die: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/732043691180605440/helpful-things-for-action-writers-to-remember
Part 3 - Additional note about camp followers being regular workers AND sex-workers: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/740604203134828544/reblogging-the-time-looped-version-of-my
--
I saw a post on my main blog about how hiking groups need to keep pace with their slowest member, but many hikers mistakenly think that the point of hiking is "get from Point A to Point B as fast as possible" instead of "spending time outdoors in nature with friends," and then they complain that a new/less-experienced/sick/disabled hiker is spoiling their time-frame by constantly needing breaks, or huffing and puffing to catch up.
I run into a related question of "how long does it take to travel from Point A to Point B on horseback?" a lot, as a fantasy writer who wants to be SEMI-realistic; in the Western world at least, our post-industrial minds have largely forgotten what it's like to travel, both on our own feet and in groups.
People ask the new writer, "well, who in your cast is traveling? Is getting to Point B an emergency or not? What time of year is it?", and the newbies often get confused as to why they need so much information for "travel times." Maybe new writers see lists of "preindustrial travel times" like a primitive version of Google Maps, where all you need to do is plug in Point A and Point B.
But see, Google Maps DOES account for traveling delays, like different routes, constructions, accidents, and weather; you as the person will also need to figure in whether you're driving a car versus taking a bus/train, and so you'll need to figure out parking time or waiting time for the bus/train to actually GET THERE.
The difference between us and preindustrial travelers is that 1) we can outsource the calculations now, 2) we often travel for FUN instead of necessity.
The general rule of thumb for preindustrial times is that a healthy and prime-aged adult on foot, or a rider/horse pair of fit and prime-aged adults, can usually make 20-30 miles per day, in fair weather and on good terrain.
Why is this so specific? Because not everyone in preindustrial times was fit, not everyone was healthy, not everyone was between the ages of 20-35ish, and not everyone had nice clear skies and good terrain to travel on.
If you are too far below 18 years old or too far past 40, at best you will need either a slower pace or more frequent breaks to cover the same distance, and at worst you'll cut the travel distance in half to 10 or so miles. Too much walking is VERY BAD on too-young/old knees, and teenagers or very short adults may just have short legs even if they're fine with 8-10 hours of actual walking. Young children may get sick of walking and pitch a fit because THEY'RE TIREDDDDDDDDDD, and then you might need to stay put while they cry it out, or an adult may sigh and haul them over their shoulder (and therefore be weighed down by about 50lbs of Angry Child).
Heavy forests, wetlands and rocky hills/mountains are also going to be a much shorter "distance" per day. For forests or wetlands, you have to account for a lot of villagers going "who's gonna cut down acres of trees for one road? NOT ME," or "who's gonna drain acres of swamp for one road? NOT ME." Mountainous regions have their traveling time eaten by going UP, or finding a safer path that goes AROUND, so by the time you're done slogging through drier patches of wetlands or squeezing through trees, a deceptively short 10-15 miles in rough terrain might take you a whole day to walk instead of the usual half-day.
If you are traveling in freezing winters or during a rainstorm (and this inherently means you HAVE NO CHOICE, because nobody in preindustrial times would travel in bad weather if they could help it), you run the high risk of losing your way and then dying of exposure or slipping and breaking your neck, just a few miles out of the town/village.
Traveling in TOO-HOT weather is just as bad, because pushing yourself too hard and getting dehydrated at noon in the tropics will literally kill you. It's called heat-STROKE, not "heat-PARTY."
And now for the upper range of "traveling on horseback!"
Fully mounted groups can usually make 30-40 miles per day between Point A and Point B, but I find there are two unspoken requirements: "Point B must have enough food for all those people and horses," and "the mounted party DOESN'T need to keep pace with foot soldiers, camp followers, or supply wagons."
This means your mounted party would be traveling to 1) a rendezvous point like an ally's camp or a noble's castle, or 2) a town/city with plenty of inns. Maybe they're not literally going 30-40 miles in one trip, but they're scouting the area for 15-20 miles and then returning to their main group. Perhaps they'd be going to an allied village, but even a relatively small group of 10-20 warhorses will need 10-20 pounds of grain EACH and 20-30 pounds of hay EACH. 100-400 pounds of grain and 200-600 pounds of hay for the horses alone means that you need to stash supplies at the village beforehand, or the village needs to be a very large/prosperous one to have a guaranteed large surplus of food.
A dead sprint of 50-60 miles per day is possible for a preindustrial mounted pair, IF YOU REALLY, REALLY HAVE TO. Moreover, that is for ONE day. Many articles agree that 40 miles per day is already a hard ride, so 50-60 miles is REALLY pushing the envelope on horse and rider limits.
NOTE: While modern-day endurance rides routinely go for 50-100 miles in one day, remember that a preindustrial rider will not have the medical/logistical support that a modern endurance rider and their horse does.
If you say "they went fifty miles in a day" in most preindustrial times, the horse and rider's bodies will get wrecked. Either the person, their horse, or both, risk dying of exhaustion or getting disabled from the strain.
Whether you and your horse are fit enough to handle it and "only" have several days of defenselessness from severe pain/fatigue (and thus rely on family/friends to help you out), or you die as a heroic sacrifice, or you aren't QUITE fit enough and become disabled, or you get flat-out saved by magic or another rider who volunteers to go the other half, going past 40 miles in a day is a "Gondor Calls For Aid" level of emergency.
As a writer, I feel this kind of feat should be placed VERY carefully in a story: Either at the beginning to kick the plot off, at the climax to turn the tide, or at the end.
Preindustrial people were people--some treated their horses as tools/vehicles, and didn't care if they were killed or disabled by pushing them to their limits, but others very much cared for their horses. They needed to keep them in working condition for about 15-20 years, and they would not dream of doing this without a VERY good reason.
UPDATE January 13: Several people have gotten curious and looked at maps, to find out how a lot of cities are indeed spread out at a nice distance of 20-30 miles apart! I love getting people interested in my hyperfixations, lol.
But remember that this is the space between CITIES AND TOWNS. There should never be a 20-mile stretch of empty wilderness between City A and Town B, unless your world explains why folks are able to build a city in the middle of nowhere, or if something has specifically gone wrong to wipe out its supporting villages!
Period pieces often portray a shining city rising from a sea of picturesque empty land, without a single grain field or cow pasture in sight, but that city would starve to death very quickly in preindustrial times.
Why? Because as Bret Devereaux mentions in his “Lonely Cities” article (https://acoup.blog/2019/07/12/collections-the-lonely-city-part-i-the-ideal-city/), preindustrial cities and towns must have nearby villages (and even smaller towns, if large and prosperous enough!) to grow their food for them.
The settlements around a city will usually be scattered a few miles apart from each other, usually clustered along the roads to the city gates. Those villages and towns at the halfway point between cities (say 10-15 miles) are going to be essential stops for older/sick folks, merchants with cargo, and large groups like noble’s retinues and army forces.
Preindustrial armies and large noble retinues usually can’t make it far past 10-12 miles per day, as denoted in my addition to this post. (https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask )
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mj0702 · 5 months
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The other Bronze – Pt. 3
For all the patient waiting people (like @valewosomtb) and my Bubs (I'm proud of you and always will be ❤️)
And please remember - this is pure fiction... so it doesn't need to make sense 🤣
You wandered the streets of Barcelona gotten lost a long time ago but not caring to open google maps.
“Seriously Luce.... kicking me out so you can... probably get some” you mumble to yourself rounding the next corner.
The next thing you knew was that you were sitting on your Ass with a beautiful girl across from you, looking just as baffled before starting to talk to you in spanish. You made the international known sign for “I don't understand” by shrugging your shoulders as you try to push yourself up again.
“Ehrm... damn... what was the spanish Word for English...” you mumbled to yourself before looking at the woman “Inglés?” you ask embarrassed
“Of course” the woman said laughing as she stood up herself offering you a hand “I said I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going”
“Oh god no, I wasn't looking... I... kinda got lost and am too lazy to open maps” you say before you wince as you push yourself up from the pavement
“Are you okay? You look like you hurt something” the woman asked concerned
“Yeah I'm good” you wave off, knowing fully well you weren't good. You definitely sprained your wrist – if not worse. Ugh – your sister will kill you. Such an inconvenience.
“Are you sure?” the woman asked you again this time with a little insistence
“Yeah, I'm sure – you speak very clear english for a spanish person” you said and tried to change the topic
“Oh I'm not Spanish – I'm in fact German... we learn english in school” she winked
“Oh German... now that's interesting” you muse, a smile tugging on your lips
“And why's that?” the woman asked
“I... don't know... I thought it would be nice to say that” you rubbed the back of your neck smiling embarrassed.
The woman laughed loudly “At least you didn't make any bad jokes about us not being funny... that's a plus” she winked before looking at you “Where are you from?”
“Born in Aberdeen, raised in Berwick-upon-Tweed... generally speaking – I'm from England” you grin
“What brought you to the most beautiful city in Europe then?” the Woman asked smiling softly
“Visiting family... Y/N by the way... I thought I should introduce myself before you declare me as unpolite” you continue to grin as you offer your left hand for her to shake
“Left Hand? You english People really are something else” she smiled before taking you're offered Hand “Caroline... friends call me Caro”
“I may or may not have sprained my wrist – that's the reason for the left hand... but yes, we're also something else... so tell me... Caro... what brought you to Barcelona” you tested the waters by using the Womans short name
She smiled “Feeling bold, are you? Assuming we're friends and using my Nickname without even asking”
Again you were thrown off guard by her forwardness “Ehrm... I thought if you tell me something like this, I... could just... you know – use the information”
This time the Blonde laughed freely “Don't sweat it... it's okay... Can I... maybe interest you in drinking a coffee with me?”
“Like a date?” you said confused
“More like a “I'm sorry I ran into you and put you on your ass” coffee” the blonde smirked
“In that case... I'll pay for yours, you pay for mine... I also put you on your ass” this time you smirked
“Deal” the blue eyed girl said smiling “I know a small coffee place not far from here if you're interested”
“Sure... lead the way” you said, your sprained wrist momentarily forgotten. That's until you wanted to put your hand into your pocket. Suddenly you got painfully reminded of your small incidence as you winced for a second.
“You are very gullible, you know... I could be a serial killer” the blonde said smirking
“It's statistically highly unlikely that two serial killer run into each other and then go out for a coffee” you shrug nonchalantly while the blonde laughed out loudly.
You arrived at the small coffee shop, which was a cute one. A little hidden away from the bigger streets, it immediately got calmer and quieter – for the first time since you touched spanish ground, you allowed yourself to breath. Caro took you through an Archway into a beautiful courtyard where she pointed to a little – tiny even – shop with three or four tables. You stopped in the middle of the courtyard and slowly spun around taking in the beauty of this place. The sandstone Walls looked like they could tell endless stories about colourful festive evenings, calm mornings and lovers.
“It's beautiful, isn't it?” the blonde German asked quietly
“I couldn't find the right words to describe this beauty even if I tried” you whispered back still looking around in awe.
“Let's get this coffee and you can stare some more” Caro teased but her voice still soft before she walked towards the little shop, greeting the Owners like they were family.
You sat down at one of the tables while still staring around, waiting for your new found friend to return. There was wild Ivy growing up the walls at some places making it even more mysterious and beautiful. Your companion joined you at your table smiling brightly.
“I gather you're a regular?” you grinned at her nodding towards the Shop
“What gave it away?” Caro laughed “The greeting or that I know there's a Coffee Shop so well hidden that not even many Barcaloneans know of its existences?”
“The Greeting and the fact that I didn't order anything...” you mused smiling “... and yet there are two cups of coffee being prepared”
“Good observation skills, I'm impressed” the German smiled “The owners are former Neighbours of mine... they helped me a great deal when I first came to Barca a few years ago and I still come around every time I'm in the area to say hi”
“That's nice... that you still come here to say hi” you say softly “... friendships like this are important... now... what am I getting?”
“I assumed you're a “Cortado” girl...” the blonde winked
“Huh... come again?” you asked confused
“Cortado... the best you could compare it to is a Latte Macchiato... It's an Espresso with milk... “ the German explained “Just... never call it Latte Macchiato... it's a Cortado”
“Got it... Cortado” you say serious, trying to pronunciation right as you repeat the spanish word
“Sounds good” Caro grinned as your coffee gets served by an elderly Woman “Gracias Nana” the blonde grinned graciously
The two of you drank your coffee in silence before starting to talk about nothing and everything at the same time. You really enjoyed the time with the blonde, who was very easy to get along with. She was funny, witty and light-hearted. You shared a few good laughs while she also taught you some real spanish (unlike Mapí did) so you would at least be able to order your coffee the next time on your own. In her company you absolutely forgot the time – which resulted in also forgetting your “engagement” with Keira.. and Alexia... and Lucy... and Mapí. As the sun started to set you realised that you might talked longer with the German as you planned – and that your Phone was dead.
“”Ehrm... I really have a good time... I REALLY do... but... what time is it?” you asked embarrassed after you checked your – very VERY – dead phone.
“Just before 6pm” your new friend answered with a glance at her watch
“Uh oh” was the only thought on your mind which also made it out of you verbally “How far is that football place from here?”
“Camp Nou? About 30 Minutes, why?” Caro looked at you confused as you try frantically to restart your Phone.
“I'm dead... I'm so SO dead.. my Sister is going to kill me” you said panicking “I was meant to meet her at Camp... Nope at 3”
“Yeah.. you might be a little late for that” the blonde said awkward “Come on... I can either get you an Uber or I deliver you – and take the blame... or should you rather go home?”
“Ehrm... I don't really remember where “home” is” you confessed embarrassed, rubbing the back of your neck.
“Camp Nuo it is then... come on” your new found friend said smiling already standing up.
You follow suite standing up rummaging in your pocket pulling out the 20 Euros that Lucy gave you putting it down on the table
“Leave it... it's covered already” Caro said grinning pushing the 20 back into your hands.
“But..” you said dumbfolded looking at the bill in your hand
“Mauro and Valeria are family... it's on the house” the blonde winked and started to walking away after yelling a goodbye towards the elderly couple.
You stumbled after her trying to keep up “But we had a deal”
“Next time” the german waved off already a few steps in front of you her mobile in her hand ordering an Uber.
You just needed to wait around five minutes for a car to pull up and Caro opened the back door
“Your chariot awaits, my lady” the german grinned waiting for you to climb into the backseat
She gave the driver the destination and you were on the way towards Camp Nuo. As the Uber pulled up you immediately spotted a small group of people.
“I'm so dead” you mumbled as you saw one of them roaming in front of the group a mobile phone in her hand before it makes the way to her ear to just be brought back down seconds later
“Let me guess.. the one trying to call you is your sister?” the blonde german smirked at your frozen like state pushing you out off the car following closely behind
“Can we just drive off a...” you started but got interrupted by loud angry yelling
“Y/N BRONZE!!!! ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS???!!!”
“Bronze??” Caro asked confused “As in Lucy Bronze?”
“My sister” you mumbled quietly as you took cover behind the blonde
“Oh my god” the blonde whispered shocked
“Is she coming over??” you asked from behind her not daring to look
“She tries... other people holding her back... is that Alexia Putellas?” your new friend mumbles back standing frozen in place
“Probably” you whispered “You seem to know players... is Keira Walsh in that huddle somewhere?”
“I think so... I mean I'm not sure” the german answered lowly
“I call out for her and you have to tell me if someone reacts, okay?? KEIRA????” you yelled from behind Caro hoping that Keira was still around
“Yep... someone just looked over” your german friend said as Keira looked over
“Good.... can you bring me over to her without Lucy noticing?” you questioned
“Ehrm... this is Lucy Bronze we're talking about.... I don't think there's anything that goes unnoticed by her” Caro mumbled back
“You give her too much credit” you rolled your eyes behind the taller woman “Okay... maybe you could distract her and I run over to saftey – namely Keira”
“How should I distract a world class defender? Have you seen the stuff she pulled off at the Worldcup??”
“Ask her for a Autograph or something... go fangirling” you said pushing your friend forward.
“Absolutely not” Caro said shaking her head “Ooooooh... they're coming over”
“Okay...” you said panicking “You go left, I go right”
“You do realize that they have zero intrest in me, right?” she asked you raising an eyebrow
“Damnit” you swore quietly
“Cariño” you suddenly hear behind your human shield “would you mind stepping around this nice woman”
“No” you mumbled now grabbing Caros shirt
“Cariño” Alexia said but you heard her warning tone “I promise Lucia won't hurt you”
You peeked around your human shield to see Lucy a few feet away flanked by Ingrid and Ona and her face showed pure fury. Alexia stood right in front of Caro and you acting like a mediator.
“It wasn't my fault, I swear” you rushed out but stayed behind the german
“I didn't say it was but we were very worried” the spaniard said calm “now please step around that poor woman who you roped into this”
“Her name is Caro and she's german” you said still not moving from behind her
“Hola” Alexia said to your friend not sparing her a second glance “Do not make me get you out from behind her”
You reluctantly step around Caro standing now next to her your head hung low
“Thank you” the blonde spaniard said before she grabbed your wrist pulling you away a bit
“Alexia please” you digged your feet into the ground trying to stop the unievitable “She'll kill me and it was really an accident”
“She won't kill you stop being so.. dramático” Alexia said calmly as she pulled you over to where the others were standing.
You looked back over your shoulder towards your new friend who had a sorrowful look on her face waving slightly before turning around ready to leave
“Wait” you called out to her “I still owe you this coffee... Alexia please... One minute, okay”
Alexia stopped and let go of your wrist turning around to you
“You can't out run me... even if you try...” she warned you
“I just want to make sure there's a chance I can pay back my depth” you rolled your eyes
You quickly walked back to the german pulling out that 20 Euro bill scribbling your number down pushing it into Caros hand
“Call me... when I charged my phone again” you smiled then turning around walking back to the waiting Barcelona captain
“Wise choice not trying to run” Alexia said smiling slightly
“It's not like I would come very far” you shrugged nodding towards the bunch of football players standing a few feet behind Alexia
“True... now come one – you have to explain quite a bit” the blonde smiled encouraging at you pulling you along towards the small crowd
“Do you actually know what I just went through???” Lucy yelled the second you were close enough “I thought you.... I don't know... got killed or laying dead in a ditch or something!!”
You stepped behind Alexia hiding behind her. You knew your sister loved you to death so her yelling at you was bad
“Lucia” Alexia warned noticing how it effected you “We said no yelling... explain what happened Cariño”
You shook your head taking a step back just to feel someone cutting off your escape route. When you looked around it was Keira who had a blank look on her face
“It was really an accident Kei... I swear... Lucy gave me money and said I should go to the next Starbucks... I didn't want google the route, so I got lost and just wandered around... I met Caro because I ran into her and put her to her ass so I wanted to apologise by buying her a coffee and she said she knew a nice place and so I went with her... it was a really cute place and I forgot about time and when the sun set I checked my phone to see it died” you said talking one mile an hour trying to convince her that you didn't want to cause trouble on purpose.
Keira took a deep breath listening closely to your rant before holding up a hand
“Bitsy do you realize how much you had us worried... I mean I'm used to you wandering off but you don't know this city – as beautiful as Barcelona is, it can be dangerous... you don't know where to go and where to stay away from... hell Bitsy you don't even speak the language” she said and you saw that Keira held herself back
“I really didn't mean too” you answered sadly looking down
“I know... but that doesn't make it any less scary for us” the englishwoman said quietly before engulfing you in a bear hug.
“Will she kill me?” you mumbled into Keiras shoulder as you hugged her back
“No” the englishwoman chuckled “she probably handcuff you to herself... or bring back the dino-harness”
“Ugh... please don't let her” you groaned being remembered of one of the most embarrassing things Lucy ever done to you
You were about 10 when Keira took you to Lucy who was playing in Lyon at the time. They decided it would be a good idea to go with you to the park so you can power yourself out. Needless to say that you indeed used the whole park – much to the dismay of Lucy who had her first ever panic attack because she lost you. After that incident she immediately bought one of these kiddi-leashes to keep you in check. And not only did she make you wear it when you three were out in privat – oh no... she'd made you wear it when she went to training. So the first time you met worldclass players like Wendie Renard, Amandine Henry or Dzsenifer Marozsán you were strapped in a kids harness which had a dinosaur design – to be exact a dino whose biting his own tail - with a leash attached to its back. Looking back now it was probably the saftest – but also the most embarressing - option for you since you would have definitely wandered off exploring Stade Gérard Houllier and probably have gotten into trouble somehow. So you spent a whole training being tied to post next to the pitch solmley to the fact that Keira had something else to do and couldn't take you with her.
Now as Keira hugged you tightly and brought back those memories which resulted in you pressing your face into her shoulder. Just as you got comfortable against Keira you got ripped away from her embrance and found yourself at the receiving end of another tight hug.
“Never EVER do that again, Bubs” your sister mumbled into your hair “You can't just disappear like that... I was so SO scared”
“I'm sorry, Luce” you mumbled back thankful that she got over her initial angryness
“Are you okay? Nobody hurt you, right? Who was that woman?” Lucy fired question after question as she pushed you backwards to take a look at you
“I'm good Luce... really” you said hiding your slightly swollen wrist “That woman was Caro... I ran into her and she helped me getting here”
“You can't just go with strangers, Bubs... I thought I drilled that into your head back in Lyon” your sister said and looked at you somehow helplessly
“It wasn't like I knew where I was or something” you rolled your eyes “She seemed nice and she really helped me”
“Cariño” you suddenly heared behind you again and it made you jump a little
“Hm?” you hummed carefully turning around facing Alexia
“Are you really okay?” she stared down at you and you knew that she knew.
“Yes... yes I am” you tried to sound convincing but your voice betrayed you at the end
“Oh my god, you aren't” your sister exclaimed “Tell me.. you did get hurt, didn't you?! Is it bad? Do you need an ambulance? No wait... I drive you... Ona... get the car – we need to go to the hospital and you need to translate”
“Lucy!” you yelled “I'm fine... no ambulance, no hospital... calm your tits”
“You know you were never good at lying, Bitsy” Keira grinned “And if even Lucy picks up on it, then it's a really bad attempt”
“I'm not lying” you pressed still hiding your injured wrist
“Are we stretching the truth again then?” Keira asked knowingly
“Maybe” you said, looking down starting to kick the pavement embarrassed
“Show me immediately” Lucy demanded and already started to inspect your face moving her hands down to check your shoulders
“Keira” you whined trying to get away from your sisters prying hands
“Lucy stop it... it's her left wrist” the englishwoman rolled her eyes
“How did you... outch Luce” you started as your sister grabbed your wrist making you hiss out in pain
“You're not as sneaky as you think Bitsy” Keira grinned
“But I... Ow Lucy... that hurts man” you said bewildered before your sister put a little pressure on your wrist which hurts a LOT
“You tried to hide it very well – yes you did” Keira chooed and pinched your cheek “But not well enough for me or Alexia”
“Why would you hide something like this, Cariño?” the barca captain wanted to know
“You saw how she reacted and she didn't even know I was injured... OW!” you said nodding towards your sister while Lucy was prodding your wrist
Alexia delicatly took your hand out of Lucys hands and inspected it closely turned and stretched it carefully. You hissed at some of the movements even trying to pull away at one turn but one stern look from the blonde spainard made clear that you wouldn't get away
“It hurts” you mumbled as you tried to pull away again
“I bet” Alexia said quietly still inspecting your wrist “Looks like a sprain but to be sure you need some... radiografía”
“I need WHAT?” you squeaked shocked and scared at the same time
“Ona... what is radiografá” the spainard asked her teammate
“X-Ray.. you need some x-rays” the young catalonian said
“HA” Lucy exclaimed in a “I told you so”-tone
“Nooooo” you whined and JUST stopped yourself from stomping your foot
“Come on Bubs...” your sister said lovingly as she laid her arm around your shoulder and pulled you towards her Cupra “... I heard the spanish hospitals are quite an experience”
“Keira” you whined begging looking at her with big puppy eyes
“I'll meet you there okay?” the englishwoman said reassuring
“Excuse me... I'm there with you, you don't need to whine for Kei” Lucy said accusing
“But Keira knows everything about me... you're like a piece of swiss cheese sometimes” you said embarrassed
“I know EVERYTHING about you” your sister exclaimed outraged
“What's my blood type?” you raised an eyebrow
“Red” your sister shrugged as she opened the back door of her car for you
“Nope... uh-hu... I won't let you take any responsebility or make any medical decision when your answer is “Red” as a blood type” you shook your head fast
“Bet Keira doesn't know either” Lucy rolled her eyes looking over towards her fellow england teammate
“AB positive” the blonde said before entering her own car
“Seriously??” Lucy exclaimed throwing her arms up in annoyance
“I'm driving with Keira” you said quickly trying to get into her car
“You're not” your sister grabbed your shirt pulling you back “Stop being a child and get in the car”
“Then I want to ride shotgun” you said stubborn
“Ona is riding shotgun” Lucy said calm
“Ona is what?” the short woman asked confused pointing at herself
“You front” Lucy pointed at her girlfriend “You back” she pointed at you
“Why?” you whined again
“My Cupra has a lot of buttons – you will push all of them and probably break it” your sister explained
You huffed offended but climbed into the back of the sleek black car.
“Fucking finally” Lucy sighed and rolled her eyes after she closed the car door
“Be nice... she's upset” Ona said over the roof opening the passenger side door climbing in
“I'm upset too” your sister mumbled getting into the driver seat and started the car to drive you to the hospital.
The drive only took 15 minutes but for you it became nearly unbearable. You hated hospitals – with a passion. You had to spend some time in hospital when you were about six years old due to a burst appendix and since that time it was a mission to get you to put a foot in said buildings. It took Keira a lot of bribing to get you to visit Lucy when she had her knee surgery. That's how bad it was – you wouldn't even enter a hospital for visiting others.
“Come on, Bubs... let's get this wrist checked out” Lucy said softly as she leaned in the open car door. You didn't even noticed the car came to a halt before being deep in thoughts what could go wrong with a simple check-up. They could discover something worse and will keep you in there and probably maybe surgery and something goes wrong and you're going to die on that table. You decided right there and then you won't enter the hospital – there was a high risk of dying and your life just begun.
“Bubs?” your sister tried again seeing you spiraling, your forehead showing wrinkles you keep biting your lip your eyes staring into nothing
“Let me... you know how she gets about hospitals” Keira said softly arriving just in time to see you in distress “Get her checked in, I'll get her in there okay?”
“Kay... thanks Kei...” Lucy sighed then looking at Ona sheepishly “you need to help me... these forms are probably in spanish”
The short catalonian grinned “Aren't you around long enough to know basic spanish by now?”
“Speaking it... not reading it” Lucy mocked her girlfriend
As the two Barca players entered the hospital to get you checked in for your wrist Keira slipped into the backseat of Lucys car right next to you.
“Hey Bitsy” she said quietly trying to get your attention laying her hand carefully on your knee
“I don't want to go in there, Kei... I'm going to die” you said in a monotone but slightly panicked voice
“You're not going to die” the blonde chuckled “They'll do the same as Alexia did, test your ability to move in different directions then decide to take some.... how did you always refer to x-rays when you were younger?”
“Bone pictures” you mumbled
“They will take some bone pictures see that nothing is broken, then either put a simple bandage or a splint on it and we're out again – if you're good, I tell Ona to tell them to give you the good painkillers” Keira tried to walk you through whats most likely to happen.
“But if they discover something wrong with my wrist and they want to do surgery and something goes horribly wrong and I die on the table?” you looked at your comfort person horrified
“Not going to happen, Bitsy... It's just a simple check... and you have too much movability for it to be broken... it's just a sprain, okay?” the blonde englishwoman smiled reassuring
“You promise?” you mumble leaning into Keira
“I promise... now come on... your sister already came out the entrance looking for us three times now” Keira smiled at you
“She should calm her tits...” you rolled your eyes annoyed
“She was so worried, Bitsy... her session today was shit because she felt one guilty for kicking you out and two she was scared that something happened to you... I know you're a big girl now and you definitely can look after yourself but this is still a unknown city to you and honestly Bitsy – if you take a wrong turn you could end up in a very bad area and get killed”
“I really didn't mean to worry you...” you mumbled ashamed
“I know... but cut her some slack... she loves you to bits... she would do everything for you – always have and always will do” the englishwoman smiled while opening her side of the car taking your right hand into hers pulling slightly for you to follow her
“Took you long enough” Lucy whispered so only Keira could hear her
“We're here, aren't we?” the fellow english fired back a little annoyed
“Ona is talking to the nurses if there's anything they could do to get us through faster... I know every minute spend in here she's more likely to bolt” Lucy talked quietly always having an eye on you as you clutched Keiras hand hard.
“She's scared... she's convinced they'll take her in for surgery and she's going to die” the blonde explained as she let you squeeze her hand to the point where it became numb.
“Is there anything I can do?” your sister asks her ex-girlfriend getting a little concerned herself
“Hold her? Tell her you won't leave” Keira said simply and the second she finished Lucy was out of her seat, crouching in front of you
“Come here Bubs... just like old times” she smiled at you before prying your hand off Keiras and pulled you forward so you had to stand up. She then sat down in your place and now pulled you down into her lap holding you tightly
“I've got you Bubs... you know I won't leave and everything will be over quickly” your sister mumbled into your hairline as you laid your head on her shoulder getting tired after your long, eventful day. You were just about to close your eye for a long needed nap as a nice looking young woman with light blue scrubs and a white lab coat called out your name
“y/n?” the doctor called out and Lucy nudged you slightly as Ona made the doctor aware that you were infact there
You slipped of Lucys lap but didn't move until your sister pushed you forward always having her hand on your back.
“I think Ona should come too... I don't speak spanish and yours is probably shit...” you mumble tiredly
“I'll let you know that I speak excellent spanish, devils spawn” your sister growled back but you heared that it held no bite
“You're probably not even able to order a coffee” you spoke quietly as you followed the doctor
“I can even order an apple pie on the side” Lucy smirked at you – knowing it would ease your nerves a bit since this is the only thing you always find the most important to learn first.. how to order food - as she pushed you through the door of the trauma room closing the door behind you so your exit was blocked and you couldn't run off.
It went just as Keira promised you and nothing bad happened. The woman palpated your wrist in several different places moved it around a bit and decided to take some x-rays to be sure. After three failed attempts to take some pictures of your wrist without Lucy in the room the nurses begrudgingly allowed your sister back in the room. The moment Lucy stepped in your line of sight you relaxed and held still for the few minutes it took the nurses to take the x-rays. It wasn't really your fault that you panicked when they told you – in spanish of course – what they wanted you to do and you got “slightly” irretated when they just grabbed your arm. At least you didn't bite anyone this time. Now you were seated in the trauma room again waiting for the doctor to come back to review your pictures and tell Lucy what her treatment plan was who then would tell you. The woman looked at the pictures closely before speaking to your sister.
“You have a really bad strain.. nothing broken, just really really badly sprained wrist... you'll get a splint for now and as soon as we're home we'll ice it” your sister told you softly holding your good hand.
“Okay” you said carefully not trusting the process
“You're going to be okay Bubs” Lucy soothed you “just a splint and we're on our way home, okay”
“Do they have cool colors?” you asked quietly
Lucy turned towards the doctor repeating in spanish what you just asked
“Which color do you want?” your sister asked you
“What are the colors of Real Madrid? White and Gold if I'm right, right?” you grinned wide at Lucy who looked betrayed
“Hell to the no” Lucy exclaimed outraged “In no way you enter my home in these colors... what a disgrace”
“White and gold?” you asked the doctor directly but she just looked at you bluntly so you decided to take a different approach
You stood up – slowly so your sister wouldn't think you're trying to bolt – going to the door, opening it and yell from the top of the lungs for Ona. The small Player came sprinting down the hallway coming to a skittering halt in front of you
“Yes?” she said a little panicked
“What's white in spanish?”
“Blanco, why?” the blonde spainard looked at you confused
“And gold?” you smiled at her
“Oro” she looked even more confused than before and it didn't help that Lucy groaned behind you
“Blanco and Oro, sí?” you turned around looking at the doctor grinning from ear to ear
“Sí” the doctor grinned leaving the room
“I can't believe you” Lucy exclaimed throwing her arms up in defeat “using my girlfriend for your pettiness”
“What just happened?” Ona asked getting more confused by the second
“She wants a splint in the colors white and gold...” Lucy groaned
“That are Reals colors” Ona exclaimed shocked
You just sat on the bed grinning widely as the two women in front of you started a discussion in spanish. Soon the doctor came back with a white splint with gold around the edges showing it to you
“Tanto?” she looked at you
“Ehrm... sí?” you answered unsure looking at Ona for help
“Sí muchas gracias” the spainard smiled politely
You got your split fitted to your wrist and with a description for some – apparently very good pain meds courtesy of Ona – you leave the hospital with your entourage of three world class football players.
“See Bitsy... nothing bad happened... I’m proud of you for not bolting” Keira smiled warmly as you crossed the car park.
“Yeah Bubs... I’m actually REALLY proud of you... I know it’s somehow a big deal for you but you took it like a champ” Lucy also smiled widely as she kept her arms around your shoulders keeping you close to her side
“Real colors, I can’t believe it” Ona mumbled next to Lucy “and I helped... what’s next? Sitting in the Real section at the El classíco?”
You laughed at Onas antics “Get used to it, Batlle... you’ll get used and abused from me until there’s nothing left to squeeze out of you” you laugh
“Welcome to the Family”
Now it was Lucy who burst out laughing with Keira following suite also laughing heartwarming. Onas face showed pure horror as you four reached the cars.
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malereadermaniac · 5 months
Text
First move ~ Kit Connor x Male Reader
The two of you were in a talking stage, basically dancing on the line between friendly and flirting, so Kit makes the first move
Male reader not explicit but implied! - Fem readers DNI!
I'm quite proud of this ngl
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The atmosphere was calm, it always was with your ginger, *very* close friend
But as calm and comforting as it may have been, tension always made the air feel thick
Romantic tension which was caused by the muscular arm around your waist and your head on his broad shoulders
The film may as well be background noise at this point
Your thoughts were full of ways you could subtly flirt with your very attractive friend who you defo didn't have a fat crush on
Thankfully, Kit was thinking along the same lines, ignoring the film completely and running ideas through his brain of how to somehow kiss you
Your brought out of your trance when Kit shifts slightly, making you aware of the uncomfortable position you've probably been keeping him in for the past half hour
"Oh shit sorry, Kit" you mumble as you sit up, facing the movie as it grabs your attention when some random line is blurted out
Kit remains quiet, regretting shifting in his spot
'Fucking dickhead. He moved now' Kit thinks, already somehow missing the electric touch you provided him with when you were resting on him
Kits slender, masculine fingers tighten around your waist, making up for the previously lost contact
God the atmosphere was suffocating, you wanted to just outright say "date me you dumbass" but you were too pussy to do something like that
As the movie went on, it grabbed your attention completely, so initially you failed to realise what Kit was doing
Which was intently staring at you
It didn't start as an intentional stare, Kit just initially went back to thinking if how to make the first move
His gaze shifting you your gorgeous face in the light of the TV due to his thoughts consisting of only you
His accidentally stared turned purposeful once the ginger remembered a TiKTok he saw
'Pov: when you watch a movie with a guy and notice him looking at you out of the corner of your eye'
He didn't get it at first, but Kit got immediate clarification after browsing the comments
'OMG AND YOU DONT WANNA TURN AROUND CAUSE THEYLL GO IN FIR A KISS ISTG MEN ARE ALL THE SAME.'
Now he knows that it's cliche, and that TikTok was making fun of men doing this
But the built ginger actually couldn't think of any other way of making a love on you
And trust me, he was desperate at this point to make a move on you
Kit has been crushing on you for as long as you had been on him, which was a long, long time
He couldn't allow this relationship(?) to result in only late night scenarios he would imagine to fall asleep
He was lost in his thoughts for a while, but all that time his head was turned to face you, his eyes fluttering between you lips and nose and eyes and chin and cheeks
Kit was broken out of his trance when you perked up - a result of you noticing Kit watching you instead of the movie
After cementing that Kit was indeed fully staring at you and you weren't imagining things, you start to feel blood rush to your cheeks, your posture straightening up perfectly
After 2 or 3 more minuets, you play it cool and turn to face your close, close friend
"You okay?" You ask him, tilting your head to the side with an inquisitive look
He fucking loved that look whenever you gave it him
Kit liked it when you looked confused or lost - which happened a lot, there's a reason he's the one who uses Google maps and not you
The ginger sits up from his laid back, man-spreading position, his hand still tight around your waist
He tugged on your waist, moving the two of you closer together
It was silent, still comfortable but the tension was fucking choking you to death
As Kit moved his smooth face closer to yours, you liked your lips nervously
You could feel his breathing on your face, warm air making you blush, hard
The ginger moved his soft yet large hand to your cheek, holding your head in his hand as his thumb stroked your cheek
Kit was fucking enamoured by you, you consumed his thoughts on the daily and this was him showing you
His eyes moved between your lips and looking deeply into your eyes, it was dark but you could see the passion and maybe even love in your friends eyes as he looked into yours
His long, veiny fingers brushed up through your hair and Kit gave you a look
One you understood perfectly - a look which turned you on when it was really the bare minimum
Kit asked if he could kiss you with that look, and after waiting for a year and a bit for this moment, you gave a short and sweet nod
Kit's lips are the next thing you know, and the only thing you know and can focus on for the next 3 and a half minuets
It was a soft kiss, his hand gently gripping your hair to guide you to the movement of his lips
He tried to push his tongue against your lips, asking for entrance, but when he felt your hand dart to his thigh and grip just a little tightly he knew to take that as a "not yet"
Kit could taste the chewing gum you had in moments ago, he always liked that about you - you always had gum in
He's bought the same gum as you, he's imagined this moment after putting a piece of it in his mouth - not admitting to himself that he wanted to 'taste' you
Once the two of you pulled away from each other, you breathlessly panted against Kit's face, that same spearmint smell making him feel tingly
The ginger smirked, looking fucking hot in the TV light
His grip tightened slightly around your waist and on your hair
"I like you ya know" he said, feigning charisma but god was it convincing
"Oh yeah? I'm not too convinced Kit-Kat, prove it to me some more?" You respond, looking up at Kit and smiling in a coy manner to tease the taller man
Fuck, there's another thing he liked about you to add to the list.
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sweetnans · 28 days
Text
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Pairing: f.reader/bakugo
t.warning: angst? war flashbacks and fluff
a/n: I'm sorry if I misspelled something. My hand hurts. Enjoy 💖
He be goddammed. Mina had asked specifically for a comic book to give Denki for his birthday, and none of the dumbasses on the squad have found it. So here he is, entering in the twelveth bookstore on his day off. Bakugo couldn't believe his position right now. The last time he had a day off was like ages ago, and now he has to find a stupid book for one of his friends.
He walked in with his usual scowl, looking for the labeled shelf with all the colorful spines highlighting above the bored ones.
The bookstore was empty. He was about to give up on his search when the building appeared on his way back home. It was a tiny store, cozy and brown. All shelves were made of wood, and the sitting area was no different. Brown chairs varnished with fluffy blankets on top. It was like a fairy forest magical paradise kind of shit. He liked the quietness.
"Hey, welcome! How may I help you?" The girl behind the desk spoke out of nothing, putting him in defense mode. He couldn't help it. He is a heroe, after all.
He saw the girl rising his hands in surrender with a comical smile on her face.
"Calm down, I'm only trying to help you," you said, putting your book down in a very slow movement.
"Shit, sorry" he apologized.
He couldn't help but notice how the smile on your face shifted to a weird look, scanning him from tip to toe.
"Do I know you from somewhere?" You tapped your chin while bending over your desk to have a better look on the man who was in front of you.
"Probably from the screen or magazines" He said nonchalantly. He was used to this kinda stuff.
"Mm yeah maybe" you were unsure about that. "So, what are you looking for?"
"Im looking for a comic book." He looked at you while you walked to the comics shelf, and he followed when he noticed that had no other information."It's a special edition, I haven't found it yet, and I'm starting to think that's not in stock"
"Just a few people have found this place, it's not even in the google map, so you have the odds to find it here, I like to keep my stock updated" you said, looking at him. God, where have you seen him? How could you forget such a guy like him?
While Bakugo kept searching the famous comic book on the giant shelf, you tried to search in your mind the sight of him.
"You told me that I could have seen you on magazines. Are you a hero, perhaps?"
Bakugo stopped his search in a bit. He wasn't full of himself like when he was younger, but it was difficult to believe that someone didn't recognize him.
"Yeah, I am"
The look on your face didn't change with realization like he expected. Your facade was even more puzzled than before.
You kept silent trying to think. You found Bakugo particularly special. He had features that weren't easy to forget, so why were you so confused?
"GOT IT!" The two of you screamed at the same time, sharing a look. Bakugo was confused, and you were extremely excited.
You two walked to the register, and he lent you the book he was holding.
"May I ask what you got?" He asked secretly, praying that you would give away the information.
"Oh yeah sorry, I remembered you" you scanned the code and put the book on a paper bag.
"Is that so?" Bakugo wasn't sure if you had like a dementia or a memory problem.
"Yeah" you simply said, "Also, you will love this book, it's so good" you said holding the bag to him after he paid.
"Have you read it?" He was curious. You didn't seem the type of girl fan of comics.
"Yes, I just did"
He would be amazed if he didn't live in society based on quirks. It was odd in the society working on a thing that wasn't related to the individual's quirk.
"How does it work?" Bakugo asked because he found that he liked the quietness your bookstore provided. He didn't want to leave.
"When I touch the book, I just know everything about it, the storyline, the plot, etcetera. It's pretty helpful. it works with people too, " you explained to him.
"That's pretty cool," he said, giving it a moment. "Wait, people? That would be pretty useful. Have you ever thought about working with the police? Or the Pro's?
You sighed with a smile on your face. He was getting used to your mannerisms.
"I worked with them for a while..." You intertwined your fingers above the counter. "When the war started, I was assigned to the special identification unit"
"I never heard of it." When the war started He was so busy fighting and being injured to notice anything else. "What was your job there?"
"I was in charge of the identification of dead and destroyed bodies"
Bakugo was shocked even if his face didn't give it away. You were about his age. He sympathized with you because he lived the same shit that you lived, the same trauma, watching people die and suffer in a different perspective.
"That's...-" He didn't know what to say.
"I know..., they pulled me out of the school to make me help them". It was raw, but the war made its havocs to everyone.
"So you were in the field..."
"Yeah, right after the heroes fought, we used to get the call and head to the battlefield"
"Why did you quit?"
You doubted. Maybe he wasn't ready for the upcoming truth...maybe he didn't even know what happened.
"You know, it all changed when I went to this battlefield. It was one of the last fights that occurred during the war. A lot of people were injured, some of them dead, some of them presumed to be dead...I was so excited when I remembered you because I never got the chance to thank you"
He was stunned. When you made a mention about him, his world stopped its rotation. You really knew him? Like outside the press?
"Thank me about what?" He asked curious.
"Your life vision," you said in a calm way. He didn't understand. "Fights and battles move out faster than you think, sometimes they're fighting in the sky, and then they're on the ground, so me and my team had to be quick following the main focus of them. I was looking for injured people to send them to the EMTs when I found you. I remember holding you in my arms. Your face was destroyed, and there was blood everywhere. I saw who you were, your failures, your accomplishments, your friends, your life, and it amazed me. You were just a kid fighting for the grown-up mistakes, but you liked it. You were devoted to your dreams. I never felt that while working with the police. " You stopped for a bit to breathe again. You couldn't look Bakugo to his eyes. "When I touch a corpse, I see everything in a gray hue, every memory fading away. It's sad. You were in my arms when that gray hue started to change to a bright and the most precious tone of orange and red, you were alive, I've never seen something like that before. I was, god, I didn't even know how to put it in words. I remember crying and thinking that it would be a chance for you to pursue your dreams. It wasn't over for you like it was for the other people I attended. Other colors started to appear as well. I felt your chest move again, and I took you to the EMTs. You were the most beautiful vision I saw during the war. You made me realize that i didn't want to watch other peoples crushed dreams. I wanted to live my own, you had your chance, I wanted a chance too, a chance far away from the sadness and catastrophe"
He kept himself quiet. For the first time in many years, he was out of words.
"This is head spinning, I don't know what to say." He was overwhelmed with everything you've said. He was well aware that someone must've saved him, but he never thought that he was presumed dead when it happened.
"Don't get me wrong, I feel like I did my duty as a citizen, and I'll do it again if they need me, but it was devastating touch those bodies and realize that there were people waiting for them at home or that they had kids that they never will be able to see grow up. I haven't done my peace with the war yet"
"I remember being carried to the ambulance. Was that you?" That was the first memory he had after he woke up. It was a blury one like those memories you don't know if they're real or not.
"Yeah, you were such a heavy lift. No offense, " you giggle a little.
"Not taken, how old were you?" Bakugo scratched the back of his neck, trying to assemble every piece of information.
"I was eighteen at that time. You were sixteen, i think, a major pain in the ass for what i saw. Before you woke up i was upset for you, the people you had around really loved you and cared about you, it was unfair and i started to feel guilty about the lives they would never be able to have, yours included"
"Dont be hard on yourself. It wasn't your fault. I was fighting for the grown-up mistakes, but you were definitely living the consequences of them"
The silence between you two was absolutely necessary. You dreamed about this day, you weren't looking forward to it, you didn't do your research or bother to look for him but it was happening. Bakugo couldn't piece the information right. You saved him. He didn't remember much of it, but he knew that someone, a girl, took him to the ambulance, but until a few hours ago, it was just a thought that appeared in his lonely nights. Now you were in front of him, sharing a crucial part of yourself and himself aligned.
"Fuck" That was the first thing he came up with. It was the perfect word to describe how he felt.
"Same," you said. You weren't sure how to feel either. You let it all out, and you were happy that He was alive. "Did you fulfill your dreams?"
He put a weird look that had you regretting your question.
"I'm the number two pro hero in Japan," You covered your face with your hands in absolute shame and laughed.
"I'm so sorry, I don't watch TV or anything." He smiled as well. Your laugh was contagious enough to make him smile. "I'm happy to see you alive"
You were cute. When he first saw you, he thought to himself that something, outside everything he had known, was pulling him to you, like an invisible string or something. You saved his life, and he didn't even attempt to find you sooner. He couldn't let you go.
"My friend's birthday is this saturday," he started. "I know it's not like a proper date or something, but if you don't have any plans or a boyfriend or something like-
Most of the time, he didn't get that nervous, but you were there, standing in front of him, looking at him with perfect eyes and trying to hide your smile.
"I'd love to," you answered before he could say anything else. He felt relieved for the interruption and for you saying yes.
"Good," he watched while you scribbled down your number in a paper.
You put the paper on his hand, and even though he was skeptical, most of the time, he would've swear that he felt a sort of electricity running up and down his spine.
"There you go," you said, batting slightly your lashes at him.
He felt weird. He didn't want this encounter to end. He wanted to tell you a lot of things. He wanted to vent about his life. He wanted to make you a part of him.
"Fuck the party" he muttered. "Are you free? Like right now? Let me buy you a coffee."
He was desperate.
"Let me think about it," you tapped your chin jokingly. "Help me close this thing, and I'm all yours"
The air that he was holding left his lungs. He didn't think that he was being impulsive with all this. He just knew that you were something that was meant to happen, but he never thought that he would have a second chance to meet you again.
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trippinsorrows · 13 days
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with me + part four
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authors note: the love and response to this story continues to absolutely floor me. you guys are all so sweet! i was nervous about posting, but everyone has made me feel so happy that i did, so thank you!
couple of hints about things sprinkled through this one. the more i write, the more things are getting fleshed out, so idk how many parts this will be atp, nothing too crazy though!!!
also, some tags don't seem to work for some reason, like when i type it, the hyperlink doesn't appear so super sorry to those impacted by that!!!
warnings: angst, fluff, language, suggestive content
song inspo: with me by destiny’s child
word count: 5.8k
taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion @shayaaaaaaa @usoholic @brokenglassslippers @gators-aid @dersha89 @southerngirl41 @empressdede
You couldn't eat.��
Couldn't sleep.
Could barely think straight.
All that consumed you, ate at you, gnawed at your sanity was one thought and one thought alone.
He wanted to take her from you. 
Joe wanted to take your daughter from you, your four year old daughter who still couldn't even go to sleep at night unless she got to see or speak to you.
The daughter who he'd only known existed just recently but was seemingly set on ripping away from you.
That thought destroyed you, made you raw from blistering agony at just the idea of not having Callie with you full time. It destroyed you to the point that you decided to throw some clothes on, hop in your car, and set your google maps for the hotel you knew he’d be staying at. Damn the fact that it was the middle of the night or that you were stupid as hell for being in that situation in the first place. None of that mattered. 
You needed to talk to him, and you needed to talk to him now. 
Joe opens the door with a forceful swing, looking as irritated and disheveled as you’d expect one to look at nearly 1am in the morning. However, when his eyes land on you, confusion meshes with irritation. “Y/N?”
“Hi.” It’s said in a breathy tone. You're struggling to remember the script you rehearsed the whole drive there. “I’m sorry. I know it’s late—”
“What the..….” He sighs heavily and steps aside, motioning for you to come in. “Get in here.”
You don’t need to be told twice, looking around the hotel room that looks so plain and undeserving of someone with Joe’s stature. But, you also know this area isn’t exactly saturated with 5 star hotels, far from it. This is probably the most elite one he could find with such short notice, and it’s not bad at all, just….basic.
He clears his throat, and you return your attention to the man who you just realized is also shirtless. If not for the pending mental breakdown you’re fighting to keep at bay, it would be extremely distracting. Joe is a lot of things, and fine as hell is at the top of that list.
“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He sounds exhausted, and you can’t tell if it’s from the argument earlier that day or being woken up in the middle of the night. Probably both. 
“I just—I need to talk to you.”
“Now?” 
Nodding, you continue. “I know….I know I messed up, okay? I should have told you, but I just—I need you to look at it from my perspective. I need you to just hear me out, and if—if you still feel the same way, then–then I’ll have to deal with that….but please.” 
He’s leaning back against the dresser, arms crossed, taking time to answer as he weighs your offer. Finally, he concedes, “you came all the way over here. I’m not just gonna send you away.”
You’re thankful for him being willing to at least hear some of what you have to say. “Callie.....she was conceived the last time we were together.” Not sure if that part was necessary or the best way to start out, you quickly move on to the next point. “I didn’t find out I was pregnant until two months later. And on top of not knowing what the fuck to feel, I barely knew what to do. I was pregnant by a married man that I’d been sleeping with for three years. A married, famous man at that. Who I finally decided I needed to move on from.” 
Revisiting this is harder than you expected, harder than when you rehearsed it on your drive here. “I was scared, Joe, okay? I was scared, so I—I did what I thought was best at that time, and clearly it was wrong. I 100% own up to that, and you get to be angry with me, but you don’t get to let that anger influence your decision making, because it is.” 
This is the part you debated so deeply on whether to say or not say, to potentially poke the already irate bear. But, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t speak up for yourself and your daughter. “You want a legal custody arrangement, and I understand why, but—Joe, your name isn’t even on her birth certificate, but to tell you the truth…..I wanted it to be. I did.” Whether he believes you or not is on him, but it’s true. Because while he wasn't present in her life, he was still her father. Nothing would change that. “They wouldn’t do it without you present and without a paternity test—”
“I could have been there,” he interrupts, sounding more hurt than anything. “I should have been there.” 
“You’re right, but you weren’t, and I’m sorry for that too. I’m not trying to make any excuses here, just lay out facts. And the fact is that you can get a paternity test, you can establish paternity, and you can try to secure joint custody, but we both know there’s no way you can take her on. You work nonstop, Joe, and she can’t be on the road like that. She’s four for fucks sake. Calista needs stability, and she has that with me. You know I’m right.”
And you can see that he sees you’re right, the wheels turning in his head as he takes in your sound predictions.
“And I know you don’t right now, and that’s okay, but I am asking you to please trust me enough to know that I will not get in the way of you getting to know Calista. Trust that I only want what’s best for her, I’ve only ever wanted what was best for her.”
“Why should I?” Despite his words, you can see and hear the crumbling of his defenses, of the brick and mortar wall he'd erected earlier during the first round of this conversation. “What’s different now?”
“Because she asked about you.” This is the part that crushes you the most, that makes you wonder if you’ll ever be able to forgive yourself for even putting her in that situation. “Because she thinks you’re not in her life because she’s not a good girl, and I will not have my child grow up thinking she wasn’t good enough for her father to want to be in her life.”
You won’t let her grow up like you.
Period.
Having this discussion, saying these things aloud, you’re slowly starting to recognize how some of your own unaddressed issues have contributed to this situation. How your refusal to confront buried trauma has bled into another generation. It’s…..uncomfortable, to say the least.
And something you definitely need to revisit, probably sooner rather than later. Just…not right now. 
You’ve got to sort this through first.
It’s after a few minutes of silence that he finally speaks, voice surprisingly calm. “You’re right.” You let out a deep breath, nearly falling back at his words. You knew he was wavering but not to the point where he would yield. “I know….I know our situation is complicated, and I’m sorry for being so cold with you. I just—fuck, I don’t know how to process all of this.”
You cross your arms over your chest. “Neither do I, but we can figure it out, because we can’t…..we can’t put her through a custody battle. I won’t do that.” Despite your very valid facts, you also recognize that while he probably wouldn’t win, he has access to the best legal team money can buy and would outlast you in court by miles. 
You won’t say it aloud, not even sure if you can, but you’d soon rather concede than put her through that. You’d give him whatever he asked for if it meant sparing her from that trauma. 
It’s a far cry from your stance hours earlier, but time and actually thinking things through made you realize the pain you’d experience at having Callie taken from you would be nothing compared to what that experience would do to her. You know custody disputes can be long and nasty, and though she was still young, you didn’t want to find out if they would question her. 
You’d sacrifice your soul and surrender. 
You loved her enough to let her go.
“You’re right.” He repeats himself, even and calm. It’s such a stark difference for both of you compared to the blowup from earlier. There’s actual communication occurring, talking with each other, instead of at each other. Listening to hear, not to react. “I—I couldn’t do that to you. I spoke out of anger. My schedule is crazy and she needs stability. You give her that.”
There’s an insurmountable amount of relief that washes over you at his words. It’s night and day from the angry—though rightfully—man that stood before you earlier today. And you couldn’t be more grateful. 
“Thank you.” There aren’t enough words to adequately express the depth of your gratitude. Joe is well within his right to be upset, and like you said, you’ll take whatever that is, so long as the both of you can agree that Callie being with you is for the best. For her, but for you too. You won’t deny that. Your daughter is your life, and the thought of being without her, even for a period of time makes you sick to your stomach. “I–” You wipe your eyes, completely unaware that you’d been crying at one point, the tears starting to dry up. “I’m taking off work tomorrow and keeping her home. You…you can come over once I pick her up from Mariah's."
His eyes light up with appreciation that matches your own for his willingness to look past his feelings to do what’s best for your child. “Yeah?”
You offer a small smile. “I’ll probably get her around 10 and text you when you can head over.”
He nods, and the excitement in his expression warms you. It’s so strange how you can go through so many emotions in such a short time regarding the man in front of you. He always has been able to evoke things out of you that no one else could.
“Thank you, Y/N.”
The way he takes you in, assessing you, it makes you shift your weight from one foot to another. Your hoodie suddenly feels too heavy, warmth climbing up to your cheeks. “I—” You gesture to the door with your thumb. “I should head out.” 
It’s when you turn to leave that he grabs your wrist to stop you. 
“Where are you going?”
Your brow lifts at his tone and words, confused by the quick change and his hand on your arm. “Umm, home?” 
“Like hell you are.” His dismissal is firm and final as he informs, “you'll crash here tonight.” Your face must be painted in defiance, because he explains, “it's almost 2 in the morning, and you look exhausted. I'm not letting you get on the road. Anything could happen.”
“Joe—”
He lifts his hand, silencing you as he points to the middle of the room. “You can take the bed. It's uncomfortable anyway.”
Ironically, a small yawn escapes, further proving his point. You are exhausted, in several different ways. The idea of driving back home right now is not nearly as appealing as sleeping off the day's events. “Okay.” Remembering his comment, you add, “you could have picked one of those fancy hotels ya'll stay in, you know.”
“I don't think there's anything ‘fancy’ within 30 miles of here.” He's not entirely wrong, the town's local steakhouse is considered the definition of fine dining and hotspot for special occasions. 
“There were once rumors of a Hilton being built.”
He looks almost hopeful. “When was that?”
You bite down on your lip. “When I was in middle school.” A small laugh escapes at his look of exasperation. 
“You should take the bed. It's gotta be more comfortable than the alternative.” Truly, because the idea of Joe's big ass trying to sleep on a damn fold out sofa is both hilarious and tragic. “I just need a shirt.”
He looks at you. “A shirt?”
“Yeah.”
“Because…..”
Rolling your eyes, you tug at your old college hoodie. “I can't sleep in this. It's uncomfortable as hell. I dress light at night. You know—” And you stop yourself, because he shouldn’t remember that you always sleep in either a big shirt or thin top and shorts, never more, oftentimes nothing at all when he was in town.
For obvious reasons.
You’re grateful when he turns away and digs through his bag, probably the only one he took with him. He always traveled lightly. He comes back, reaching you one of his black t-shirts. 
“Thanks.” Accepting the item, you walk over to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Standing in the mirror, you take in your appearance. Joe was being nice by saying you look exhausted, cause you look like shit, every bit of the days events, loud and blaring. Blowing out a breath, you start removing your clothes but pause when you go to remove your bra.
Is that….is that too much? You haven’t slept in a bra in years. Not since puberty randomly hit you over the summer between freshman and sophomore year, where you went from a modest A cup to a whopping D. And post Callie body definitely wasn’t a D anymore. It just seems….it seems indecorous. 
Deciding to go with safe instead of sorry, you swallow your discomfort and keep your bra on. With the hair tie on your wrist, you do your best to pineapple your hair, knowing good and well it’ll be frizzfest when you wake up but not really caring. 
Another yawn leaves your mouth as you walk out the bathroom only to turn into a scowl as you find Joe sitting on the sofa on his phone.
If it wasn’t so late and you weren’t so tired, you’d argue with him why it’s stupid of you to take the bed. He’s at least a foot taller than you. But, you don’t have it in you so just mutter “stubborn asshole,” place your folded clothes on the dresser, and climb into the bed. 
You double check your alarm is still set for the right time and lean across the bed to place it on the nightstand. There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you for a couple of minutes, your eyes closing as you try to sleep, even if for a couple of hours before you have to get back on the road. 
“What is she like?”
Your eyes open at his question, unexpected but understood. You think about it, wondering how to answer, how to explain all of the wonderful things that is your child. Finally, you settle on an answer, soft and honest. 
“You'll find out for yourself tomorrow.” And turning on your side, you murmur, “goodnight, Joe.”
He doesn’t say anything after that.
But while you sleep with the hope of believing that this can be worked out between the two of you, Joe lies awake, taking his turn with mind running a mile a minute.
He knew this would be difficult, knew it was going to get ugly to some extent, but what he didn’t expect was how impacted he'd be by seeing you again.
There was a stark difference between seeing you in photos and seeing you in person. His anger at the situation helped him to not react as strongly, but not as much as he liked or needed it to.
Because regardless of all his outrage, he’d missed you.
Even with your deception, with your deceit and all of his confusing emotions toward you in this whole situation, he missed you. 
Joe might not be ready to admit it aloud, but he’s never gotten over you. And not for lack of trying. He’d had a period where he tried to fuck away his feelings, tried to busy himself in between the legs of other women, his favorite distraction when he was in his twenties. Tried to remind himself that it was never meant to turn into anything anyway, that it wasn’t a big deal. But his efforts were fruitless and a waste of time.
He cared about you, he cared about you, arguably, more than he’d ever cared about a woman. Even….even Jadah.
The night you ended things was still a sore spot for him, still something he plays over in his head trying to make sense of. On the surface level, it’s pretty plain and simple. You wanted more, he couldn’t give it to you, so you moved on. 1+1. He was legally married for fucks sake. He couldn’t blame you for wanting more, but there was also a part of him that wondered why you didn’t just ask him for more.
Then again, that went both ways. Why didn’t he ask you for more?
It’s easy to say it was because of Jadah, because of his marriage, and that was both true and untrue. On his part, anyway. Divorce was easy in name but far from it in every other area. And for him, meant being forced to confront demons he tried his best to keep at bay. Up until two months ago, at least
Joe closes his eyes. This is all too much. 
He came here ready to confront you, and he had, in fucked up way, even if partially deserved. He came here to meet his daughter, to begin to form a bond with her, and he will do that. He just has to push the complicated feelings for you to the side and place them on the backburner until he can sort through that mess.
Calista is his priority right now. Whatever this is between you and him can be figured out later.
Hopefully. 
________
“She can be shy until she gets to know you.”
The day seems to have escaped you, getting on the road early in the morning to drive back and prepare to pick up Callie. She’s thrilled to see you, and vice versa. The two of you spend the beginning of the morning together, stopping at a local diner to share a breakfast before heading back to your apartment. You spend a little more time together, one on one, before texting Joe to head over, staying true to your word. 
Especially since he informed you that he had to fly out tomorrow morning. You expected as such, knowing he’d probably already been gone longer than higher ups liked. He could only push the limits so much. 
You don’t even have to be looking at him to know he’s nervous, an understandable but strange thing. Weird almost. Joe’s a lot of things, but nervous has never been one of them. “But once she gets comfortable, she won’t shut up.” That makes him smile, and you’re grateful for that.  Sure enough, you find Callie in her playroom, which used to be your office space, but the more spoiled she became from your mom, the more you realized her room was too small for all of her stuff. “Hey, Callie Bear.”
Callie looks up, smile bright as she runs over to you. You lean down to meet her hug. She gives the best, loving hugs. “I’m making you something, mommy.”
You gasp. “You are? Well, I can’t wait to see it.”
“It’s a surprise, so no peeking!” She lifts her little finger, wagging it in your face. Laughing, you nod and push back some of her curls. Callie’s eyes then land on Joe’s massive frame standing near the doorway, silently observing. You can see the emotions so clearly on his face: surprise, shock, happiness.
Callie’s smile dims as she moves closer to you, holding you close, her stranger danger kicking in. A small part of you is grateful that even at almost five, she knows to be cautious. Then there’s the other part of you that’s saddened at the fact that the “stranger” she’s cautious of is her own father. “Baby, this is….this is….”
“I’m Joe,” he finishes for you, and you’re both grateful and annoyed. Conflicted because a small part of you wanted to be the one to tell her, but also grateful he ironically took that responsibility off of you. “I’m an old friend of your mom’s.”
Welp.
That’s not….that’s not what you expected him to say, not what you two discussed. It wasn’t explicitly stated, but you were under the impression that they would tell her the truth. His statement isn’t exactly a lie, you did once consider Joe to be a friend, much more than that, but still. Joe’s role in Callie’s life is significantly more than that. 
This seems to ebb away some of Callie’s caution as she asks, “really?” Her eyes fall on you, almost looking for approval. With a tight smile, you nod, giving her the relief she needs to loosen her hold on you. “Do you like Disney?” That causes you to genuinely laugh, something your sweet child definitely inherited from both you and your mom was a love of Disney. 
“I do,” he answers, and you pause. Does he really? Perhaps. Regardless, it’s a smart answer for your Disney loving child. “Do you?”
Callie nods happily, grabbing your arm and twisting it to show the ‘remember who you are’ tattoo on your wrist. “Mommy and grandma have Disney tattoos, and mommy’s gonna get a Moana one for me!”
“Really?” Joe, now crouched down to be at her eye level, sounds genuinely interested, and maybe he is. Callie is impressively charismatic at only four. She’s also his daughter who he’s wanting to develop a relationship with, so it’s not far-fetched that she could be talking to him about the rate at which grass grows, and he would entertain it like he was watching a 49ers game. “You like Moana?”
Is water wet? “She’s the bestest! Right, mommy?” 
You chuckle, fixing her shirt. “She watches it almost every day.” You always found it interesting, ironic even, that your daughter instantly gravitated to Moana, unaware that the voice of freaking Maui is her cousin, that she too had pacific islander ancestry. Through her dad. The dad you kept from her. 
“You know I don’t know if I’ve seen that one—”
Callie’s mouth drops open as she looks at you, “mommy, can we watch it? Please? Please? Pleeeeaaassseeee?”
“Okay, okay, okay,” you relent after pretending to think about it. You like to limit her screentime to two hours, and even though she already watched The Princess and the Frog earlier for the 97th time this month, there was no way you were not gonna allow this bonding opportunity. 
Squealing, Callie surprises you by breaking away and moving over to Joe, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go, Joe!” She pulls on the sleeve of his hoodie, probably to lead him into the living room where Disney Plus is signed in. 
Alone in her playroom, you run over what just happened. You thought you would tell her the truth, tell her that this is the father she was asking about, the one she thought didn’t want her when in actuality, he wanted to know everything there was to know about her.
And for a second, you get pissed off. Why wasn’t Joe honest with her? Isn’t this what he wanted? To be in her life. It’s confusing. He is confusing. But….you try to give him the benefit of the doubt, certain that he must have some reason behind his actions. You just hope they’re damn good reasons.
“Mommy!” You know that tone of hers, the tone that tells you a request is to follow. 
You shout back, “yes?”
“Joe likes popcorn too! Can we have some?”
You laugh and shake your head, shouting out an ‘okay’. Walking out of the room and into the living room, you find Callie near the TV, arm outstretched as she explains every detail of Moana, even the most obvious ones. But, Joe is sitting on the sofa, watching and listening intently. His smile is stapled. 
He looks…..he looks so happy.
Moving into the kitchen, you move around quietly to not interrupt and to get their popcorn made.
Waiting for the popcorn to finish, you hear Callie ‘whisper’ to Joe, “Mommy can’t cook, but she makes good snacks.”
Amid his laughter, you walk near the living room, hands on her hips. “I heard that, little ms. ma’am.”
“That’s what Grandma says,” Callie defends with a shrug of her little shoulders. “She says mommy is pretty and smart and funny, but she burns water.” She looks off, confused, as if it’s finally registering to her that that doesn’t make sense. “Mommy, how do you burn water?”
Joe is on the sofa, hand over his mouth, fighting for his life. You also can’t help but laugh at the absolutely serious look on her face. “Finish your movie.” 
The microwave dings, so you grab two bowls and fill them up equally. Delivering them to both, you place hers on the coffee table as she’s back to narrating. “Popcorn, as requested.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes go wide with excitement as she suddenly asks, “will you watch it with us?”
Damn. You had a feeling she would ask but was hoping she wouldn’t. Disappointing her twice in one weekend felt criminal. “Callie, I'm super behind with work.”
“Pleeeeasssseeee.” She starts with the begging again and then looks at Joe to inform him, “mommy’s a teacher. Do you have a job?”
Joe chuckles. “I do.”
“What do you do?” She asks in a sing-song tone. You give him that ‘I told you she never shuts up’ look. 
“I’m a professional wrestler.”
She’s clearly intrigued, asking, “are you actually good?”
“Callie!” This little girl and her lack of filter sometimes never ceases to amaze you. Your mom swears up and down it’s your payback from how blunt you were as a child. 
You’re starting to believe it.
Joe gives a shrug, clearly loving every bit of this. You can tell he wants her to keep the questions coming. He’ll answer em’ all if it means getting to spend time with her. “I’m alright.”
At that, you give him a look and crouch down to her level. “He’s very good.” You take the remote and quickly pause the TV, adding on, “matter of fact, he’s the universal undisputed champion.” Joe gives you a look, and you can tell he’s surprised by you knowing this piece of information.
You don’t watch wrestling as much as you used to, partially due to what happened between the two of you, mostly because you don’t have the time, but even non-wrestling people know about Roman Reigns and his current, historic title reign. You’re not sure if you’d feel entirely comfortable saying it to him, but you’re massively proud of Joe and all he’s accomplished. You always knew he could do it.
Her eyes widen with excitement and curiosity as she looks at Joe for clarification. “Really?”
“That is true.” 
Head tilted, she moves away from you and climbs on the sofa to sit next to him. Her little legs crossed over as she continues with the questions. “What does undis—undis—”
He helps her out, also angling his body more toward her. “Undisputed?” 
“Yeah! What does that mean?”
You can see he’s taking a minute to decide how to answer. “It means I don’t lose. Ever.”
“Whoooaaaa,” she breathes, obviously impressed. “You must eat a lot of veggies. I don’t like them, but mommy says they make you big and strong.”
“Your mom is right,” he agrees and looks her over. “You’re a very smart little girl. How old are you again? Like 15?”
“No, I’m four!” She giggles and lifts up four fingers. “But, I’ll be five on May 19th!”
His gaze softens. “Your birthday is in May?” She nods, happily. His smile is warm, emotional. “So is mine.”
You still for a moment. You hadn’t even thought about that, that her birthday was just days away from his. There’s something strangely sweet and moving about this fact, both to you and definitely to him.
“Really?” 
And that’s how it plays out for the rest of the day, a combination of Callie’s incessant questions, intermittent viewing of Moana and parts of Encanto. Lunch and dinner sprinkled somewhere in between. You’re even able to sneak off to do your lesson planning, Callie more than fine with just Joe to entertain her.
It warms your heart to see them connect almost instantaneously.
It’s why you wait as long as you can to interrupt, never wanting to do so, to invade their moment. But, you also know your daughter, know that she needs a certain amount of sleep to function the next day. And when you check in on them and catch her yawning, you know it’s unfortunately that time.
Sighing, you enter the living room with your arms crossed. “Callie Bear, it’s time to start getting ready for bed, mamas.”
“Nooo.” She whines. “I’m not tired.” Her groggy voice and scowl would indicate otherwise. 
“Of course, you’re not.” You bend down in front of her and reach for her hand. “Come on, we gotta tell Joe bye. He’s gotta get back to his hotel.” Despite her obvious objections, she climbs off the sofa and accepts your hand but not before looking at him. 
“Will you come over again tomorrow?” She asks with hopeful eyes and a voice of excitement, both things that make being honest with her that much harder.
He obviously doesn’t want to give her the truth, but it’s better than the alternative. With a frown, he answers, “I wish….but I’ve gotta get back to work tomorrow, Callie.”
Her smile drops, and sadness arises. “Why? Do you have to go?” Her quiet voice is comprised of disappointment and despondency. You can tell it hurts him. Her hope is dashed, replaced with sadness. “When will you come back?”
“As soon as he can.” You jump in to assist, hating the way he looks so devastated not having a specific date for her. Truth be told, you wouldn’t be surprised if he won’t be able to get away for another few weeks, if not more. “And you know what, you can use my iPad to Facetime him when he’s available anytime you want.”
Her eyes light up. “Really?” 
“Of course,” he assures. He reaches to push some hair out of her face. “I’ll call you whenever I can.”
She gives him a small smile. “You promise?” 
Joe swallows. “I promise, sweetheart.” 
Pleased and obviously ecstatic at this information, she surprises the both of you by tearing her hand from you to throw her little arms around him for an unexpected hug. You’re not sure why, but the sight makes your eyes water. His eyes close as he gently wraps his arms around her as well. You look away, almost uncomfortable interrupting this moment between the two of them.
When she pulls away, you swear you see disappointment reappear in his eyes. “Bye, Joe.” 
She returns to your side, and you gently direct her, “go put on your jammies and pick out a book. I’ll be right there in a few minutes, okay?” 
“Okay, mommy.” Without protest, she turns and heads back to her room. When it’s just the two of you, you turn to him, “she really likes you.” It feels silly saying such a thing. He’s her father. She should like him. She should love him.
But you also know better than anyone that being someone’s biological parent doesn’t automatically make them a parent. 
“That’s why you didn’t tell her, isn’t it? You want to gain her friendship first.” In watching and participating in the interaction between them, it dawned on you just why he didn’t tell her right away. Joe wanted to first establish a baseline with Callie, wanted her to get to know him just for him, to bond with him not because he was her dad, but because she wanted to. 
And clearly….clearly it worked. 
“She’s amazing,” he whispers. You see he’s still caught up in the emotion of it all, meeting his daughter for the first time, connecting with her as quickly and easily as he has.
“She is,” you agree, suddenly remembering why you’d dismissed Callie. “I–I uhh, I have something for you.” Standing back up—your knees were gonna hate you tomorrow—you pull the thumbdrive out of the back pocket of your jeans. He also stands with you. “I was that new mom who was intent on documenting every single thing my kid did, and I’m kinda glad I did now.” You reach and drop it in his open palm. “I got everything on video. Her first word, first time crawling, first time walking….all of it.” Suddenly uncomfortable with his silence, you add on, “I know it’s not the same as being there, but—”
“Thank you.” he interrupts in a quiet voice, immensely grateful to you at this moment. “Thank you, Y/N.” 
Emotion seems to be the keyword of the day, because yours are also all over the place, for a variety of reasons. It’s an experience that’s both overwhelming and confusing, but also….nice? You can’t necessarily describe it, but there’s something comforting about Joe having a role in Callie’s life.
But that doesn’t equate with your decision to not tell him about her in the first place, hence why you’re a hot ass, confused mess.
He’s making you feel things again, and you don’t like it. 
“I know getting back here won’t be easy, especially with the holidays rolling around. But, whenever you can come, you’re welcome. I mean it.” Thanksgiving is less than 3 weeks away. You’re highly doubtful he’ll be touching down before then. “Christmas is her favorite holiday. I know she’d love to have you here for that.”
“I’ll be back before Christmas and for Christmas.” You don’t know how, but you do know he’s convinced of it, and you don’t put it past him. He seems entirely determined. 
“Okay.” You walk him to the door, unsure why your bodies being so close to each other is an uncomfortable yet pleasing feeling. “Oh,” you suddenly remember something. “You need to make a Snapchat account.”
He scowls almost instantly. “A what?” A small laugh escapes you at his instant disgust. “I’m too old for that shit.”
“We both are, but it’s an easy way for me to share Callie and all her randomness with people. Make it and send me the username. I’ll add you.” It seems all it takes is for you to mention Callie, and he’s sold. He nods in agreement, all distaste washed away with the eagerness of receiving photos and videos of Callie on the regular. You keep your hand on the door, chewing on your lip, murmuring, “Goodnight, Joe.” 
He gives you a look, something unspoken in his eyes. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 
Closing the door behind you, you lock it and take a deep breath, unsure why your stomach is in knots. Not from anxiety or fear but happiness. 
You’re happy to have Joe back in your life, even with all of the bullshit that’s transpired in this single day. There’s something relieving about having him around, and you know it’s for Callie. It needs to be just for Callie, because what you can never do again is allow yourself to fall back into that situation. 
No matter how badly your heart and your head are clashing right now.
No matter how much you're starting to wonder if your heart ever really left that situation.
130 notes · View notes
h1schier13 · 2 months
Text
GOOD LOOKING BOY——LUKE HUGHES——
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word count- 1.1k
Luke Hughes x fem reader
p in v protected/ oral sex/ hookup
You and Dawson had just arrived at the bar. The Devils had beaten Philly 4-1 and the whole team decided to celebrate.
“Ready to meet the boys?” Dawson said, his light accent coming out as he spoke.
“Yeah,” you smiled. Dawson opened the door and you walked in, him following closely behind. The lights of the bar were dimmed, and many jersey-related things scattered around. You looked over to see the devils enjoying drinks and chatting with each other. Dawson walked over first.
“Hey, Dawson” A man got up and hugged him. He was much taller than you, only a bit taller than Dawson. Dark hair and hazel eyes. You found yourself drawn to him.
“Hey Lukey” Dawson chuckled before turning to you.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N” he stuck his hand out and you shook it. Tingles spread throughout your palms. His hands larger and rougher than yours.
“Same to you” you replied and a faint blush coated Luke’s cheeks.
The night went on, you met the rest of Dawson's teammates, and you got yourself a drink.
“I’ll be right over there, is that ok” Dawson asked. You nodded and took a sip of your drink. He left and sat with Holtz and Lazar. You looked around and a grin formed on your face when you spotted Luke, his eyes occasionally running up your body. You set your drink down, hopped off the barstool, and headed towards him.
“Hi, Luke “ You smiled at him. He looked up meeting your eyes.
“Would you mind giving me a ride home?” The truth was you didn’t need a ride but you wanted to be alone with him.
“Oh, uh, yeah sure, I was planning on heading out now anyway” He replied pretty quickly. You walked over to Dawson and let him know you were heading home so he wouldn’t worry later. He gave you a knowing look and you giggled.
You ran back to Luke, before exiting the bar with him. You both got into his car.
“you’re cute” you confessed.
“What?” The light shade of pink you loved covered his cheeks.
“I said you’re cute, as in I find you attractive” Luke tilted his head like a confused puppy.
“Oh, thank you” He smiled.
“Here’s my address “You grabbed his phone and put your address into Google Maps.
The car was silent as Luke drove. You looked outside admiring the stars that filled the night sky.
Minutes quickly went by and Luke let you know that you had arrived.
“Would you like to come inside?” You asked him.
“yes.” His eyes met yours. His chest rose and fell from the deep breaths he took.
“Ok,” you got out, then headed inside.
“Nice place” You turned around to reply to him, but you caught his eyes on your ass. He quickly looked up, letting out a nervous cough.
“If you wanna kiss me all you have to do is ask?” Luke barely wasted a second, one hand pulling you by the waist the other holding your cheek. His lips pressed against yours.
You licked the seam of his lips asking for entrance, and that’s what he gave you. Your tongues fought over dominance. The kiss grew deeper and deeper till you broke it.
“Let’s go to my room,” you said. Luke nodded before kissing you again. He wrapped your legs around him and picked you up.
Somehow Luke managed to find your bedroom, the door being slammed open before you were laid against the bed. Luke kneeled on the floor and pulled you to the edge of the bed. Oh, good lord.
He unzipped your jeans and pulled them down. You took your top off then threw it on the floor. Luke looked up his eyes focused on your bra-covered chest before making eye contact with you. The contact didn’t break as he moved your underwear to the side and licked up your pussy.
“Shit” your hand grasped at his dark curls. His mouth now fully pressed against you. His tongue ran up and down your slit before thrusting inside you, causing you to release a moan.
Luke continued his movements making your orgasm get closer and closer. One more thrust of his tongue and stars filled your vision.
“Luke” you moaned, his mouth drinking you up, taking all your body had to offer.
You sat up and urged him to stand up before you unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down. You pushed him down onto the bed beside you.
You got up and straddled him, then moved your hips back and forth against him.
“Condom?” You got off him then reached over to your nightstand and pulled one out.
“Can I?” Luke nodded. You pulled his boxers down and rolled the condom onto his erection.
You pulled your underwear off and unclasped your bra before straddling Luke again. His tip runs along the seam of your pussy.
You pressed your lips against his, moaning into his mouth, as you lowered onto him. His cock slowly filling you to the brim.
You waited a second before you lifted your hips and came back down. Luke’s hands gripping your hips. Supporting you with the thrusts. Again and again. Up and down.
“You’re so beautiful” Luke whimpered. His face lowered to your neck, he slowly kissed it.
“I’m so close” you moaned. Luke started to thrust upwards, your hips meeting each other. The thrusts gradually got faster and faster before sparks ran through your bodies and you both came. Luke stilled, filling the condom.
He pulled out, threw the condom in the garbage, and headed to the bathroom. After a few seconds, you heard the bath start. Luke came out and picked you up before bringing you to the bathroom. He set you in the bath, the warm water relieving your sore muscles.
Luke sat on the bathroom floor next to you and grabbed a washcloth and some soap. He gently cleaned your body then washed your hair with the shampoo and conditioner that sat beside your bathtub.
“Thank you,” you told him. He smiled.
“Don’t thank me it’s the bare minimum”
“Again, thank you” You kissed him on the cheek. They grew a light pink and you giggled before splashing some water on him.
“Hey!” Luke laughed. He was so pretty.
“Can you get me a towel” Luke did as you asked and wrapped it around you.
You got out of the bath, got dressed in your pajamas, and brushed your teeth.
“Do you wanna stay the night?” You asked Luke.
“I would really like that”
thank you for reading!
Edited 3/25/24
175 notes · View notes
harrysmimi · 5 months
Text
Maybe If You're Lucky
Synopsis: One where Harry is smitten like a kitten
More of my work | Based on this ask
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Harry had been so smitten lately. He thinks he might be in love even!
So it all started when he met this girl who was apparently new to town and was asking for directions to him, also apparently her google map was confusing her and she was joining her new job that day. He of course helped her out that day, never thinking that she would take the same route everyday to work from then.
One day he finally gathered up enough courage to to go approach her. Yes, he is more shy when he's not on the stage.
Turned out she did seemed to know who he was and what he did for living, in fact she said she was a One Direction fan at some point but, soon enough Taylor Swift took over her life, which is fair enough. Now she does listens to few of his solo songs, his debute solo album is her most favourite she told him.
Now he got to know she moved to London for her new job as the assistant manager at the headquarters of her firm. It was a big day for her, which Harry gladly saved.
Now he's got himself a date with her!
Her nervously got ready, in just a simple black dress shirt, with a pair of pants, he had let his hair be messy. He quickly put on a nice pair of dress shoes and threw on a coat before he was out of the door. He drove directly to the restaurant where they were supposed to meet up. He only had to wait exactly two minutes before his date was jogging upto the restaurant.
Her bag thrown over her shoulder, a beanie on her head and glove covered hands. She was trying to walk as quickly as she can, huffing put of breath. Harry decided to walk upto her even though he have to walk back towards the restaurant.
"Hey," he greeted her with a big smile.
"Hi," he huffed, and slowed down her her pace. "Sorry, I am really not used to walking."
"That's alright, let's fo in and get you some water first." He grabbed a gentle hold of her hand, he knew she was at work. She had some extra work so she was working on Saturday. That's why their lunch date became a dinner date. Just as they were about to get into the restaurant, YN gasped.
"I swear I was on the same bus, why did I got down like 10 minutes away!" She groaned in frustration, earning a giggle from Harry.
"You'll learn, come on now." He urged her inside, it was warmer and she needs water. They finally sat down and waiter served them some water. "I'll take it your day at work was good then?"
"Oh yeah!" She nodded taking a big sip of her water, "I thought I'd enjoy it more here, meeting new people and all, it's someone as worse as back home. Sorry I am complaining. How was your day?"
"No you're not!" He defended, "my day was pretty good, very productive day." She smiled in reply on hearing about his day.
Soon they ordered their food, and hot know more about one another. Just the mandatory first date things, he got to know few little things and that was pretty much it. Harry could see she was getting overwhelmed. Of course, she has been working all day and she is most definitely tired.
"Come on I'll drop you to your place." Harry suggested as he helped her put on her coat.
"Oh you don't have to really, I can take the bus." She said politely, "thanks though."
"You sure? It's quite late." He pointed out. To be honest he did not wanted the night with her to come to an end. He really did enjoyed the time spent with her. "I insist."
"Okay, thank you." She accepted his offer. Harry so kindly got the door her like a gentleman he is. He drove her to her place, it was a safe neighborhood in a complex. He stopped just right by her building and got out with her. "I had a good evening with you, Harry, thank you for being such a gentleman."
"Thank you for giving me your time," he blushed, "hope we could do this again sometime?"
"Yeah." She beamed a rather contained smile.
There was going to be a second date!
......................................................................
It's been three months, the second date happened.
It was a picnic. She brought some delicious home cooked food which reminded her of home. But it's been a good month and half since they both saw one another. Harry had to be in New York for work.
Harry was dying to see her again, hug her again. He was invited over to hers for lunch when he gets back to London.
YN on the other hand was trying her best to get accustomed to the new country and people around her, Harry definitely helped alot and she made a few friends. Her neighbour, Nina was definitely one those people for her who introduced her to her friends. Her weekends were hardly ever spent at home since. Harry said he looked forward to seeing hearing about her weekends on Monday when they have a nice little call during her lunch break.
YN adjusting to her work was really nothing out of blue, she definitely did got the promotion a couple of months before she got to know they needed her at the headquarters. She was used to the work load and pressure. And her colleagues seemed have not to like her much as someone superior at work.
Well, her dad is the CMO at the branch back home, she had joined at junior executive at the age of 18 and made her way up. Did her dad being CMO helped her growth? You can say that. And she is clearly aware of that fact. But her own superiors did not gave a crap about her dad being CMO at the headquarters or at the branch back home, and she worked hard to be where she is. She gave ten years of her life to the company.
And with her sharing these tid bits with her parents had them have a surprise visit to her place. It ruined her plan with Harry. She haven't told her parents about him yet, though they had a idea there was a boy involved. She doesn't even have the heart to tell Harry the truth.
She was at work and her parents and brother were out that dah exploring the city on a Monday. Harry had went in to visit YN. He looked all cosy and snuggly in his winter clothes and a visitors pass hanging around his neck. He'd brought in lunch for YN.
"Hey!" He greeted her the first thing with a hug as she approached him in the waiting area.
"Hi," she hugged him back, "you look handsome!"
"Thanks, love." He smiled shyly, "you look pretty." He tucked loose strands of her hair behind her ear and fixed the fringes she impulsively got last weekend. No she wasn't drunk.
"Thank you." She had a hold her his arm as if she is nervous to tell him something. It was like when she her parents found out that she snuck a kitten in her school back pack on her way home a day after she did pretty badly on a test. "I have to tell you something."
"Yeah, you want to tell me over the lunch?" He suggested, "it's getting cold."
"Oh, yeah, yeah." She realised he was holding a paper bag with take out food containers. She showed him the way to cafeteria and they both sat down at the table farthest away in the corner.
"What is it you wanted to tell me?" He brought up the topic.
"So, my parents are here." She started but paused for his reaction. He isn't really surprised, he really didn't know how to react.
"And...?" He asked.
"I am sorry we'll have to postpone the lunch, they're staying for two weeks." She shared.
"That's fine, love," he shrugged it off, "don't worry about it."
"I haven't told them about you and I, yet..."
"That's completely fine too." This took YN by surprise. But he's told his entire family about her, he had told his mother about her even though they haven't even made it official yet. Hell, they've only been on two dates.
It's a different story that Harry is completely head over heels for her already, that he ended up telling his mum about her and hence his sister and dad and step mother too. She doesn't have to do the same.
"I don't know what to tell them." She shrugged, "the last time I told them I am seeing this guy in junior college, they grounded me!" She let out a chuckled sigh, feeling embarrassed. And here too, it's a different story she was being delusional just to late find out that boy already was double dating two other girls. So her grounding was to really ground her.
"Hey," Harry switched seats to sit next to her. "It's alright, I know we haven't made things official yet but we haven't had the chance to have that conversation yet."
"Do you want to make it official?" She asked carefully, looking at him through her lashes. "It's been pretty official to me."
"I'd love nothing more than that!" He grinned a toothy smile as he placed a kiss on the apple of her cheek. She held up her pinky, he hooked his own around hers. "But do take your time to tell your parents about me and us, there is no rush."
"You're just too perfect, stop!" She hugged his arm making him giggle. She was honestly too nervous about telling him that her parents do jot have any idea about him, but no more than telling the people who birthed her that she is dating a white man. A British white man to be exact!
"I try." He giggled.
They had a good time during her lunch break. YN went back home that evening and decided to tell her parents while she prepared for dinner with her dad. Well, surprisingly her dad was the easiest to handle, he doesn't get angry easily. Her mother on the other hand, she is a tough time. So she decided to tell her dad who will later handle his wife in his own way, he can take all her wrath for his only daughter.
"Well, I knew." Her dad told her, "Jerin told me that there was a lad visiting you today on lunch." He emphasised on the word 'lad' making her chuckle. "Why don't you invite him over for dinner this weekend? Of course, if he is ready."
"You sure?" She asked cautiously.
"Yeah. I'll tell you mother later on." He assured her.
......................................................................
It was Saturday, and least to say YN's mother was just dealing with it. Given the fact her daughter is dating a British guy. She did not approved that. She would rather her daughter marry an Indian guy from a well sophisticated family. But she was willing to put up with this dinner for YN.
Harry on the other hand was lowkey panicking. He had been ranting about this to his therapist for entire week. His nerves were all time high, though he was pretty good at hiding it. He had picked out a pretty semi formal outfit for the evening, a baby blue dress shirt, and black dress pants, with a pair or his faux leather shoes, he chose to wear just few of his rings leaving out his initials rings. He didn't wanted to seem narcissistic on the first meeting with his girlfriend's parents.
He picked up a bouquet of flowers for the mother of his lady, and a rose for her. When he finally got upto her flat, he could hear the laughs and commotion coming from inside of the house. It definitely did calmed his nerves down a bit. Her family seemed a little inviting already, even though he is just a door away from them. He rung the bell, and a few seconds later a young man opened the door.
"You must be Harry?" He said, "I am Veer, YN's brother. Come on in!" He moved aside so Harry can get in. "Please take off your shoes, YN just cleaned her entire flat today."
"Oh, okay." He nodded. And just as they entered the living room, he saw YN on standing on the edge of the backrest of her sofa which was pushed against the wall, hanging up pictures frames. She clearly looked a bit frustrated, her eye bags gave it away. She still looked gorgeous, dressed in an oversized beige jumper and a pair of loose fit jeans and her Cars socks. Her hair tied up with a claw clip on the back of her head. She had just one of the picture hug up before Harry caught her eye and she turned red in embarrassment. There was still a pile of frames stacked up on the coffee table.
Her flat was pretty small for four people to live in, but perfectly too bit for one person. Given all he knows her family is staying with her at her place. The living room was small and cosy, and door which lead to the bedroom. A kitchen which he missed by the hallway. It was all cute, and interior reflected YN's personality in it.
YN quickly got down from the sofa and approached him. "I am sorry about that."
"It's alright, love." He told her calmly.
"This is my mother, Harry. And Mumma this is Harry." YN introduced both of them. Harry went to approach her mother carefully and have her the bouquet of flowers.
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. YLN."
"Thank you for these Harry, and like wise." The lady smiled. Which took YN by surprise. "And this is Veer, YN's brother."
"Yeah, we met at the door." Veer said, "go on, why don't tou meet dad he's in the kitchen."
"Oh, yes!" YN grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him back towards the hallway he just came in from and to the kitchen.
There the man was, a look alike of his girlfriend. Gray hair and beard kept clean and nice, a pink appron wrapped around his waist as he cooked up some amazing food.
"Papa, meet Harry!" YN announced, "Harry this is my dad."
"Hello sir, nice to meet you!" Harry smiled shyly as he approached with a handshake, but YN's dad surprised him with a hug.
"Nice to meet you too Harry." YN's dad said patting his back. "So Harry, do you like to cook?"
"I am not very well at cooking I'm afraid, but I can cook some pasta dishes." He shared, "this smells very fragrant, I should say!"
"Papa is the best cook ever," YN started, "his best dish is the Chicken Pulao he makes, since you're vegetarian he's just making veg today."
"That's very considerate, thank you!" He again smiled shyly.
"You kids go out and have fun, food is almost ready." YN's dad suggested, "we'll have a chat over dinner."
"Sure, you want any help?" YN asked to which her dad declined. She took a hold of Harry's hand and walked him out.
"Harry you want to see YN's baby pictures?" Veer announced.
"Oh god!" YN groaned rolling her eyes as she followed Harry to the sofa, he quietly handed her the rose he got her.
He sat down as Veer shared back stories of each of YN's baby pictures. He got to know YN is the youngest, she's got yet another older brother is stuck at work unfortunately. There was a family picture frame where YN seemed to be around 22-23, she had worn a gorgeous black sparkly saree with a slick back bun and a bold burgundy lip. Oh how Harry was smitten again!
Another picture from the same day with both of her brothers. And a few other pictures pf her with her niece and baby nephew. The reason behind all these pictures was her mother who didn't wanted her daughter to feel alone all the way in another continent. Which is very sweet in Harry's opinion. It's a rather good option to stay grounded when you can see pictures of people who you love and who love you everyday.
Soon the dinner was ready and least to say, Harry felt very welcomed in her family. He felt all his worries melt away the more he got to know her parents. Yeah, her mum is a little tough but she is like a marshmallow inside who loves her daughter dearly.
Harry also noticed YN had the tose he got her tucked over her right ear nicely. She looked adorable that way.
Again he did not wanted the night to come to an end but he had to leave, he's got to go studio the very next morning. YN walked him back to his car.
"It was fun meeting your parents, your dad is amazing!" Harry shared.
"Seems he already likes you, more than me might I add." YN giggled.
"What about your mum, she did not seemed much impressed by me, did I do something wrong?"
"Don't worry about her, she'll come around." YN assured him. "I don't want you to go though!"
"Trust me baby, I don't want to leave either." Harry sighed as he leaned back on his car reaching out to pull her closer with his hands on her hips. "We'll spend the next weekend together, yeah?"
"Yup!" She nodded, "thank you for the flower, it's very pretty!"
"You make it look prettier." He swears he's falling in with this girl every passing micro second, he's just too nervous confess just yet. His compliment made her blush though, "anyway, will I be able to see you in a saree in person?"
She squinted her eyes as if she is thinking hard. "Maybe if you're lucky. One day, yeah."
"Oh if I am lucky?" He raised his eyebrows acting surprised, "aren't I lucky now? Have got you in my arms."
YN's awkward senses kicked in as her nose scrunched up to mock him, "you are lucky, yeah!"
Harry let put a defeated sigh, "I don't want to leave."
"You have got an album to make." YN pouted sadly looking at him with puppy eyes behind her glasses. "I have be up early tomorrow as well, apparently my dad's got a surprise which requires getting up early."
"Well do share with me what the surprise is." He said to which she nodded, they stayed in silence for a couple of minutes before he impulsively asked her, "can I kiss you?" It's shocking? Not really, they haven't kissed yet. Well, they hardly saw one another.
YN reaction was holding back an embarassed laugh covering her mouth, "I haven't done before, so sorry if I suck. But yes, you can kiss me!" That made Harry giggle.
"You are adorable!" He went in for the kiss sliding up one his hand on the back of her head. He pressed his lips on hers gently, in a closed mouth lips which lingered longer than YN anticipated. "See it was amazing!" He announced again making her hide her fave in his chest. "Alright, you're making it harder for me to leave now."
"It's working then." She mumbled again the fabric of his shirt. "Okay, okay I'll let you go now. But text me when you get home yeah?"
"You know I will." He pressed a kiss on her hair. She reluctantly pulled away from him and took a few steps backwards before she was running back into her building.
......................................................................
Now it's been a couple of more months. Harry birthday passed by. He got to finally take YN to see his mum and sister, he said he'd take her to see his dad some other time as he seemed to be busy around that time.
Harry was invited to one his best friend's birthday and album released party. Ed Sheeran, his best friend. To which of course he decided to go, he asked his girlfriend to be his date. It was going to big party at one Ed's Villa. It was a themed party, everyone was supposed to wear something black.
So Harry put on one his simpler suit, styled up his hair and put on some nice cologne, got a rose for on the way. He went over to pick up his girl. He went upto her flat instead amd what he saw left him in complete and utter awh!
There she was wearing the same saree he saw her wearing in those pictures few months ago. She looked exactly as stunning in those pictures, or somehow even more. This time she had her hair pulled up in a low slick bun, and wore a smokey eye look and the same bold burgundy lip. God he could kiss her right then and there!
So he did, he pulled her in a big smooch on her mouth. "God, you look stunning baby!"
"Thank you!" She smiled shyly, "oh can you please help me get this?" She turned around and there was a top hook left opened which she couldn't get, so he helped her with it.
"Also, I'm gonna do this." He placed the rose carefully on the side of bun. He'd especially asked the florist to cut the stem short because he's figured YN loved wearing roses he gets her.
"Aw, that's cute, I'm gonna go look at it!" She bunny jogged to her bedroom and came back out just as quickly. "It looks so nice!"
"It does indeed." He agreed grinning ear to ear.
"Okay let me wear my shoes and we can leave." She clapped her hands silently and was hopping her way to her shoe rack before he stopped her.
"And where is your coat, miss?" He asked.
"Oh, I don't need that. It'll ruin my look!" She whined as she looked for her shoes.
"Nuh-uh, we're not going anywhere unless you wear your coat. It's fucking freezing outside, don't want you getting sick. Get your coat or a cardigan at least." He insisted, but firmly. He seriously wouldn't budge, he'd got to know her well in these five months that she gets sick way too easily. Like every month she has to catch a fever or a cold.
She slump walked to her room and got a coat, which he helped put on. And once she put on her shoes they were headed out. Harry drove her to the party.
"I can't believe I am casually going to Ed Sheeran's birthday party!" She fangirled in the car. And even told Harry about how she impulsively bought very expensive looking tickets to his shows, two of them so she is not alone and can drag her friend along. She had just started her new job at the very minimal salary. More than half of her monthly salary went into buying those tickets (the nosebleeds!!) and she gradually saved up enough to book a hotel room and train tickets as the concert was in another city. Those were best chaotic three months of her life.
Finally Harry stopped in front of the venue. It was a party thrown by Ed's manager and least to say the mans did not shy back on spending money. There were valet for every guest. YN felt at ease now knowing she won't be over dressed.
She enjoyed the party would be an understatement, she had a blast. Especially Harry introduced her to Ed in person, her inner fangirl did not shy off. YN was bursting with joy when they left the party.
"Oh my god! I actually got to meet him!" She fangirled on her way back to Harry's car with a little hop to her walk.
Harry was just happy to see her happy and bubbly. They finally stopped by his car by the passenger side, he pulled in close with his hands on her back, under her coat softly caressing her exposed skin.
"Did you enjoyed yourself?" He asked, moving in closer.
"I actually had a blast!" She exclaimed again making him giggle.
"Haven't got to kiss you all day." He pouted sharing. He was actually hesitant of ruining her makeup, thinking her lipstick might smudge or something.
"I was with you the whole evening, why didn't you?" She looked at him confused but could feel her heart melt.
"Don't want to ruin your makeup and smudge up your lipstick." He looked at her with puppy eyes.
"You know I wouldn't have mind, plus my lipstick is tranfer proof." She shared watching his fave lit up.
"Why didn't you tell me that before!" He gasped, and the next thing YN knew was feeling his lips on hers in a needy kiss.
In that moment he knew, he loved her.
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upon-a-starry-night · 4 months
Text
Number Neighbors Pt. 17
Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader
Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: slight violence/ blood/ weapon/
Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?
----
You don’t know why you went out in your part of town this late at night. You were just trying to cope with your feelings for Nat and your confusion about Leon and it was all getting to be too much. Not to mention the recurrence of your PTSD.
You just needed your comfort food and now it was going to cost you your life. Or your dignity.
You suck in a sharp breath as you take another left, several feet behind you the man in a dark hoodie does the same.
Was this really how you were going to die? 
Your phone buzzes frantically in your hand but you’re terrified if you look at it he’ll suddenly be right behind you.
The occasional glance behind you is doing you no favors and the nearest police station is a mile away according to Google Maps.
Could you make it there before he made it to you? Would he sense where you were going and attack you?
The sound of your phone ringing spooks you as the ringtone blares.
A ringtone you set specifically for Nat. A ringtone you weren’t sure you’d ever hear.
Mind racing, you wonder if it’s an accident. You wait a second for her to hang up or for your phone company to send you a text that says “Haha you were so desperate we decided to prank you! Now pay your phone bill!”
But the sound continues and you stare at her profile picture as your heart pounds. It’s a picture she sent you of her flipping you off. It’s only a shot of her hand and some grass but you saved the photo immediately nonetheless. 
Your finger hovers over the accept call button. 
Now that the moment that you’d been waiting for had finally come, why did you feel so scared?
Pressing the accept button, your phone is suddenly thrown out of your hand as a body bumps into yours. 
Usually, your first instinct would be to apologize but considering what they interrupted the first word out of your mouth is a frustrated “hey!” before you take in the figure in front of you.
Your blood runs cold and you glance behind you to see that the man that was following you is no longer behind you.
The man in front of you gives you a menacing smile, his teeth are yellow and crooked and you subconsciously take a step back, causing the man to reach out and grab your wrist.
“Hey now, this doesn’t have to be hard if you don’t make it hard”
A shiver runs down your spine and you try and pull your wrist free from his grip to no avail.
“Please,” you try and plead “please let me go”
“I just want some money that’s all” his eyes are red and irritated and you realize that you might not be dealing with a sober person right now. The thought does nothing to help your growing fear. He takes another step closer to you and you flinch “C’mon I just want-” 
The man stumbles back clutching his head. Your head is spinning and you don’t understand what happened until you see your bag of ice cream on the ground. Looking down at your shaking hand you see it stuck in a swinging position.
When did you do that? I guess in a flight or flight situation you were fight.
You pouted at your ice cream on the ground before an angry grumble from the man in front of you turned your attention back to him.
“You fucking bitch!” Spit flies from his mouth as he screams at you and you cringe, taking another step back as the man pulls something from his pocket. 
Terror fills your system as you notice it’s a pocket knife
“All I wanted was some money but you had to go and make things worse for yourself didn’t you?”
The man lunges at you and you quickly move to the side, trying to remember what you could from your rewatches of Criminal Minds. You really should have invested in some self-defense classes.
The man stumbles forward, almost losing his balance. Maybe you could use his intoxication to your advantage.
Attempting to throw him off, you try to push him to the ground while he’s frazzled but his hand catches yours as soon as it touches him. He jerks his hand with the knife forward and places the blade uncomfortably on your throat.
You swallow and feel the cold metal move as your throat bobs.
Tears immediately pricked your eyes. Was this how you were going to die? You were just starting to make friends with people from work. There was so much you still wanted to do. People you still wanted to meet. Your eyes drop to your phone on the ground, the screen is black and it looks like there’s a crack across the top. 
You were so close to hearing Nat’s voice. The thought turns your fear into frustration. Staring into the eyes of your assaulter you notice his face is drawn in anger. 
Why is he the one who gets to be angry? Why is he screaming? He attacked you. 
Your thoughts turn from frustration to rage and your body is fueled by adrenaline. You swiftly knee him in the balls and push him off of you. 
He crumples in pain for a second before sloppily swinging his knife in your direction.
The blade manages to slice your left shoulder and you hiss as a stinging pain takes over your arm.
You feel warm liquid seeping into your shirt, it’s a stark contrast to the cool night air but you ignore it in favor of defending yourself.
The man attempts to swing at you again but is unable to keep his balance in his inebriated state and he falls forward on his arms. He grunts in anger and attempts to get up but both of you spot the blood on the floor at the same time.
You freeze and blood drips from somewhere under him and you notice he fell on the arm that was holding the knife.
“Ah, shit-” The man attempts to move again but flinches, all he can do is sit there panting in pain. The sight of the sticky shiny red blood on his hand makes you dizzy. You don’t know what to do or how to even begin helping him.
You take a step back, crouching down to grab your phone and wincing when it shoots pain through your shoulder. You deduce you probably need stitches as a pained voice pleads behind you
“Hey hey hey wait- don’t-”
“Hey!” A boyish voice shouts from somewhere not too far away and panic fills you. This does not look good for you. Not to mention you weren’t feeling all too great from your wound either. If there was another voice nearby that meant this guy could get help soon and you could run.
You spared one more glance at the guy who ruined your night and then booked it in the other direction clutching your shoulder. Hoping that whoever else was there wouldn’t follow you.
~
A few minutes of running later your shoulder is throbbing and your shirt is thoroughly ruined as blood still trickles from your wound. You couldn’t put as much pressure as you wanted because of your running and you feel a little light-headed from blood loss when you spot the police station a few buildings away. 
Relief floods your body as you push yourself toward the building and when a kind female police officer rushes over to you in the lobby you don’t even realize you're crying until your vision gets blurry and she’s whispering comforting words in your ear.
You hear her call for a medic before exhaustion overtakes you and you pass out.
Pt.18
A/n: Giving you two chapters this week because I love you guys and I hate cliffhangers~ Starry
---Taglist--
@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723
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kamotecue · 9 months
Text
meet by chance ・❥・ g. reiten
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pairing: guro reiten x reader
summary: you never expected to run into guro, well knowing the chances of meeting you did, however off the pitch, you didn’t think it would be this quick.
part two of here
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
you finished training a while ago, now here you are in the locker room with your damp hair. you were just wearing a sports bra, and a black high waist trousers.
“you haven’t finished getting changed, mate.” katie said, throwing you the black turtle neck you had put on your kit bag.
“thanks, cap.” you said, throwing on the turtle neck ignoring the way you had gotten a notification from instagram.
“will you join us for lunch?” caitlin asked, taking a glance at you, the young irish defender. katie hummed, giving you a nod agreeing with the aussie.
“sure, why not—it’s not like i have anything better to do.” you said, quickly wearing the black button up coat as it was a bit cold
“lets go, then.” caitlin said, grabbing her kit bag. you grabbed yours as well, as you all headed to the car, a small conversation was engaged.
“still won’t tell me who gave you those?” katie said, as you groaned at her behavior. caitlin just laughed at your misery.
“i won’t, no matter how many times you ask.” you said, opening the trunk placing your kit bag first. the other two gently placed theirs, as you closed the door when they were done.
“oh, come on l/n. how bad can it be, it’s not like it’s a chelsea player.” katie said, as you ignored her. oh, how spot on your captain was.
you entered the driver’s seat, igniting the car as katie took the back seat. caitlin had the aux cord, plugging her phone in as she played strawberry kisses by nikki webster. what can you say, it’s a very good song.
“i’ve been missing your strawberry kisses.” caitlin sang, as you focused on the road. you already had the coordinates, as you simply followed what google map had led you to.
“cuz nothing’s as sweet.” katie continued, as you tapped your fingers against the driving wheel.
the drive to the cafe wasn’t that far, you were the last one to exit out of the car. the other two were the first ones to go inside, claiming a table.
you entered the building, not noticing a certain norwegian take a glance at you. why hadn’t she noticed that you were a footballer as well—not to mention an arsenal player as well.
you took the seat in front of caitlin, katie who was beside her handed you the menu.
“i’ll have a grilled panini.” you told them, returning the menu before taking out your phone. you had accidentally clicked on a notification, it lead to an instagram notification.
greiten has followed you.
“holy shit-“ you said, katie furrowing her eyebrows as her conversation with caitlin had came to a stop. the aussie looked at you confused but held concern.
“i said that out loud, didn’t i?” you asked, as katie chuckled. caitlin just gave you a nod, as you winced.
“i’ll just use the restroom.” you stood up heading to the restroom, not noticing a certain person following you. someone you hoped to avoid, but it was practically inevitable.
“so, y/n.” you paused before turning around to see guro, you took note of the clothes she was wearing. it was yours, she gave you a soft look as you avoided her gaze looking at the wall.
“guro.” you simply said, looking at your watch not noticing how she approached you. her hands were holding your hips, pulling you closer to her as you used your hands to steady yourself.
“you forgot to mention that you weren’t just an arsenal supporter.” the thick norweigan accent was noticeable, as you simply flushed at the close proximity.
“well, it didn’t really come up.” you hummed, knowing how she only thought of you as an arsenal supporter but never a fan.
“touché, what do we do now?” she asked, her eyes glanced at your lips.
“what do you want?” you asked, making sure you weren’t overstepping her boundaries.
“i’d like to take you out on a date.” your eyes widened, as she gave you a lopsided grin. you chuckled at her words, before giving her a nod.
“you know y/n, you’re so cute when you’re all flustered.” you shoved her as she laughed at your reaction. you gave her a soft look, as she gazed at your lips again.
“well, now that i’ve seen you. i have to go or else i’ll be late for my training.” you nodded, but she still had her eyes on you.
“no, goodbye kiss?” you joked, as she gave you a small smirk.
she tugged at your hands, guiding you closer to her as she pressed her forehead against yours.
“should i?” she hummed in amusement, as she watched you blushed under her attention.
“i don’t know, reiten. usually this is the part where you’re supposed to kiss me.” you said, giving her a look as she gave you a tender, yet sweet kiss on the lips.
you wrapped your arms around her neck, as she held your waist. it was like you felt your blood rushing through your veins.
guro pulled away as she looked back at you, you were breathless.
“i’ll see you later, y/n.” guro gave you a gummy smile, to which you softly nodded to.
let’s just say, the date went well. you both proceeded to go on dates, and kept it a secret from your teammates.
the day she asked you to be her girlfriend, she made you paper flowers, as well as a handwritten letter. you always wanted to experience the cliche parts in love, so she wrote on a sticky note, will you be my girlfriend?
there was two boxes below, one with yes and one with a no. you obviously checked the one that said yes, and that marked you both official a couple.
pt 3 coming soon
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velvetstreets · 2 years
Text
R U Mine?
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None of the people in my writings portray the actual people I write about! It’s all a work of fiction, I have no idea how they are/act irl.
Warnings: SMUUUTTTT, penetrative sex (f!receiving), swearing, daddy kink, breeding kink, basically Jack claiming reader in every way possible.
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The car was silent as your driver drove you and Jack home from an event. The tension between you two was thick, but you knew relief was close, about 4 minutes away according to google maps. You squeezed your thighs together in anticipation, playing the night back in your head.
“It’s because you didn’t say shit Jack! You basically condemned her behavior? And you expect me not to be mad about that?”
“The fuck was I supposed to say?” He argued.
“Ummm, I don’t know Jack, maybe that you have a fucking girlfriend? Or just tell her not to send her tits to you in general? You cannot be this dense.”
“Ummm, I don’t know Jack, maybe that you have a fucking girlfriend? Or just tell her not to send her tits to you in general? You cannot be this dense.”
“She already knows you and I are together. I don’t know why she sent that shit, but she knows I’m with you. Why should I reply to her and play into her game? She’s just tryna start shit, and it’s clearly working. I just didn’t think you’d eat it up so easily.” He shook his head.
“She already knows you and I are together. I don’t know why she sent that shit, but she knows I’m with you. Why should I reply to her and play into her game? She’s just tryna start shit, and it’s clearly working. I just didn’t think you’d eat it up so easily.” He shook his head.
“Are you serious right now? It’s not about her, it’s about YOU. I expect shit like this from your ex flings, but I expect you to act like my fucking boyfriend! Sometimes I don’t feel like your mine, and I’m yours. Like we’re us.”
“You don’t feel like you’re mine?” Jack whipped his head towards you, the anger that was once on his face, now replaced with confusion and slight shock.
Your alarm went off, signaling it was more than time to leave.
“Fuck. And now we gotta go to this fucking event. Fuck it, whatever. Let’s go, we’re already late.” You sighed, picking up your things and heading for the door.
“No, we’re not done with this.” Jack reached out for your arm, making you halt your footsteps.
“Yes we are. We’re late, and I’m tired of fighting with you Jack, tired of looking at your fucking face right now, asshole.” You looked him dead in the eye.
He grumbled and grabbed his keys from the table before the two of you left.
You and Jack had fought before heading to the event, to which you both had to put on smiles and warm energy- the antithesis of what you were both feeling at the moment. What really pushed you over the edge was the fact that Jack paid no attention to you the entire night. You knew you were technically, partly, in the wrong, but it was due to a misunderstanding between the two of you. Jack had gotten DMs from an old acquaintance that were… sexual, to say the least. He didn’t invite her behavior nor did he condone it, but he didn’t do anything about it. Just left her on read. You were conflicted; on the one hand, you shouldn’t be mad at him, he didn’t ask for any of that attention. However, he didn’t make any definitive moves to make it clear to her that he had a long term girlfriend who he loved and didn’t outwardly reject her advances. You tried to brush past your fight, but he was still tense and annoyed, which just further irritated you, he was acting childish.
As frustrated as you were with him, you couldn’t help but admire how fucking delicious he looked. His hair had grown out a little, which you loved- giving you access to play with his curls mindlessly, as well as tug on them when he ate you out. He wore all black- a mock shirt sleeved turtle neck, with a silk shirt over it and leather pants. Adorning his face were his black rimmed Prada glasses, and around his neck was his diamond Kentucky chain, sparkling in the lights. He looked too fucking good, but you weren’t gonna be the one to cave first.
Unbeknownst to you, Jack felt the same way about you. He was still a little fired up from your fight, but he couldn’t help but steal glances at your appearance. You wore a black silk dress to match with Jack, which hugged your curves perfectly. The hem was low enough just for your breasts to peek out teasingly- and fit you snugly enough to go braless; and the slit on your right side left little to Jack’s imagination as his eyes wandered up your exposed thigh. He wanted nothing more than to rip your dress and fuck you raw on the table in front of all the guests at the venue; but he had a job to do, and because he was still upset, he dove into work mode instead, unintentionally yet very intentionally ignoring you.
You quietly huffed and rolled you eyes every time Jack spoke or tried to initiate any physical touch with you; something that no one took notice of - except Jack. If he was gonna act like this, then so would you. You were perfectly pleasant with everyone you mingled with, continuously downing a few drinks throughout the night, but every time Jack got near you or you heard his voice or even just his name being mentioned, you scoffed.
Finally, Jack had enough with your attitude. He walked over to where you were at the bar.
“Let’s go.” He said calmly, not wanting to attract attention.
“I don’t wanna go yet.” You coldly brushed him off, sipping at your drink.
“We’re leaving Y/N.” Jack grunted, his glasses were now off as he gave you a serious look.
“I don’t give a fuck, you can go, I’m staying.” You rolled your eyes again.
“All you wanna do is fight with me today huh? We’re going home now, cause it seems as if I need to fuck the brat out of you. Car. Now. Y/N.” Jack growled, his tone dripping in frustration and lust. Your core tightened at his words, the alcohol fueling your arousal.
You were now a minute away from Jack’s apartment, and Jack still hadn’t said a word to you; it didn’t matter though, the tent in his pants and the bouncing of his right leg told you everything you needed to know. As the car rolled to a stop outside the building, Jack thanked the driver and then laid his warm palm on your knee, giving it a squeeze.
“Let’s go sweetheart.” His tone sickeningly sweet, but you knew the punishment you were in for.
You and Jack got out the car and he walked around next to you, his hand resting on your hip with a tight grip. You walked into the building, greeting those at reception, and kept moving towards the elevators. It was silent as you rode in the enclosed room, the only sound heard was each other’s breathing.
“Jack-“ you started.
“No. Don’t wanna hear a word out of you unless you’re whining about how good I’m fucking you.” He said sternly, still not looking at you.
It was unusual that Jack wouldn’t make eye contact with you, usually it was the other way around, you wouldn’t always be able to hold his stare; but now he wouldn’t give you a glance.
The elevator opened on your floor, Jack grabbing your hand and pulling you out quickly, the alcohol and the ache from standing in your heels all night made it difficult to keep up with his long strides.
“Keep up darling, if you think you can’t walk now, just wait until the morning.” He seethed, opening the apartment door, signaling for you to enter. The door closed behind him, and he started to take his chain off, ripping it off in frustration.
“Bedroom. Right fuckin’ now. And I swear to fucking god if you’re not naked in the next 2 minutes Y/N-“ he growled. You bit your lip, core clenching at his tone as you proceeded to quickly run to your shared bedroom.
You tore your dress off, followed by your panties, leaving you just in your heels. You sat on the bed to take them off, before Jack’s voice stopped you.
“Leave ‘em on.” He said, his tone dark as he leaned against the doorframe. You swallowed hard as his dark demeanor walked before you, towering over your frame. You scooted to the middle of the bed and laid down, anticipation burning at your core, not knowing what Jack had in store for you.
Jack grabbed a black tie that was laid across the end of the duvet; thrown on the bed in a careless manner when he was putting together his outfit earlier, and walked towards the head of the bed, taking your wrists and tying them tight against the headboard. “Since you wanna be such a fucking brat, the only way I’ll get you to listen to me is if I tie you down, like a slut. That’s what you are, ain’t you baby?” He taunted you, pulling on the tie again to make sure it was secure.
“You’re the fuckin’ slut.” You spit at him.
“Awww, that ain’t how you supposed to talk to Daddy now, is it?” He kept mocking you, walking to the end of the bed while unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it out of sight. His toned arms were now on display, accentuated by his white undershirt as he bent down to grab at something you couldn’t see. The way his stomach flexed his fit figure through his tank made your core clench. You were desperate to see all of him, and you knew he would drag this out before he got undressed.
You let out a whine as you finally saw what it was he was looking for; a spreader bar. Jack smirked as he uncuffed the cuffs, slipping an ankle through each one, strapping you in securely. Your stomach was swirling with excitement and lust.
“Jack-“ you said in a breathy tone.
“What’d I say?” He questioned you, ceasing his actions to look up at you, icey blue eyes staring into yours. You were silent, knowing it was gonna be worse if you spoke.
“Oh, now you start to listen to me? Filthy fuckin’ girl, ain’t you?” He chuckled to himself, before abruptly adjusting the bar so your legs spread as far as they could. You felt a delicious burn run through your thighs, the feeling of you being pulled apart for Jack to devour you drove you crazy.
He crawled on top of you, eyes burning through yours, your breath shaky as his was calm.
“I’m gonna fuck you until you cry, until you can understand that you’re mine, and I’m yours.” He muttered.
He leaned down to your ear, his hot breath fanning over the skin.
“Safe word?” His tone was now gentler.
“Peaches.” You whispered.
“Good girl.” He smirked, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before his dark demeanor returned. Jack climbed off of you, and stood at the end of the bed, admiring the sight of you.
Another mischievous chuckle left his mouth, eyes darkening as he knelt down in front of your legs.
“So pretty..” he muttered, his fingers tracing your feet in your heels, up your legs and thighs. You shivered as your core clenched around nothing, goosebumps erupting all over your skin. “Such a shame you’re so bratty.”
Without warning, Jack drove his face into your pussy, messily licking, sucking, eating you out.
“Fuck, Jack!” You cried out, your pussy finally being tended to after hours of tension. He was relentless, eating you like it was his last meal. 
“Shit, shit- oh god!” you gasped, squirming in his grip, wrists pulling against his tie, knees buckling slightly inwards; the spreader bar resisting your movements. 
Jack hummed against your clit, inwardly laughing at your desperation. Continuing to suckle your nub, he worked two fingers inside your pussy, a soft squelching noise echoing the room. He released your clit with a small ‘pop’, and you let out a whine in response. His fingers continued to thrust in you, back and forth, the pads of his fingers curling and rubbing against that perfect spot.
“Oh fuck- yesyesyes” you moaned out, your fingernails making small crescents in your palms as you tightly made fists; rutting your hips to meet Jack’s thrusts with his fingers, your orgasm so close you could almost taste it. And then suddenly it stopped.
You let out a broken whine as your eyes flashed open, forehead creased in confusion and agony.
“W-why? I was almost there?” You groaned.
“Only good girls get to cum. And I’m still dealing with a whiny brat.” Jack said, lightly brushing his fingers against your clit, making you shiver in horny desperation. You heard him chuckle before meeting his eyes as he licked your essence off his fingers. “You do taste so fucking phenomenal though. Always do.” He said honestly.
“Fuck, Jack…” you exhaled.
“What baby? Tell me what you want.”
“Stop teasing.” You snapped at him, impatient.
“Now, now angel” he tsked, “that’s not how good girls talk. Try again sweetheart.” His hands now groping and massaging your hips and thighs.
“I- please..” you trailed off weakly.
“C’mon mamas, use your big girl words like you did earlier. Tell Daddy what you want. What you need.”
“Need you to fuck me Jack. Please. I can’t take it anymore-“ you begged.
Jack smirked and stood up, removing his clothes until he was fully naked. His thick cock stood tall, dripping with precum, making your mouth water. He climbed on top of you, slotting himself between your aching spread legs.
“Yeah? You want me? Cause a couple hours ago you couldn’t stand to look at me.” He teased, leaving sloppy kisses down your neck and onto your chest; his dick sliding against your folds, tip deliciously bumping into clit.
“Didn’t mean it. W-was pissed at you. I didn’t mean it, I don’t mean it.” You told him breathlessly.
Jack lifted his head from your neck and brought you into a soft, passionate kiss, causing you to moan in his mouth.
“S’okay baby.” He chuckled. “Know you didn’t mean it. Gonna fuck you so good, the only name you’ll remember is mine. Cause I’m yours; only yours.” He cooed in your ear as he slowly sunk into you.
You let out a satisfied cry, his dick stretching your walls out deliciously, you felt every curve, every vein of him, filling you perfectly.
“Fuck.” He exhaled. “This pussy always swallows me whole. Just like that mouth of yours.” He chuckled darkly before bringing you into a hot kiss. Jack angled your hips and started to fuck you into oblivion, his grip on you tight as he nipped your neck with teeth while you cried out in euphoria.
“I’ve never wanted anyone more than I’ve wanted you.” He began. “I have you, and I still desperately want you like you’re gonna slip away from me tomorrow.” He grunted in your ear as he continued to fuck you senseless. You wanted to respond, but all you could manage to let out were moans and cries, his cock pushing up against your g-spot.
Jack’s thumb pushed in-between your bodies to rub at your clit. The newly added sensation made your eyes roll back, brokenly whining out at the restrains you were in. You wanted to touch him, dig your nails into his skin, get increasingly closer to him. Luckily for you, Jack felt the same and decided to untie your hands, but he left the spreader bar as is.
“Fuck yes, Jack- oh my fucking god.” You moaned.
“I am so fucking hopelessly yours Y/N. You see that baby? Look at em, open your eyes.”
You managed to lift your eyelids and look at what Jack was talking about. The two astronaut necklaces you wore were now attached at the magnet as Jack hovered over you, grinding his hips against yours.
“I’m completely and utterly lost without you. I’m miserable even if I’m having a good day, until I see your face again. I’m yours. You’re mine.” He told you, ice blue eyes never leaving yours.
“I love you. So fuckin’ much, beautiful. You’re my girl. My everything.” He slowed his rhythm down, gently rocking into you as he kissed your neck, up along your jaw, where he made his way to your lips.
“I love you too, Jack. So, so much. So much, baby.” You felt the pent up anger from before, flow away from your body as you craved to be closer and closer to him, you wanted to live in his goddamn skin you loved him so much. Jack gently shushed you, kissing you softly before pressing his forehead against yours, looking down between you.
“They’re made for each other, just like we are. See?” He signaled down to your necklaces again, until your vision focused and saw what he really meant; his cock slick with your sex, slowly thrusting in and out your pussy. You clenched at the sight, letting out a soft whine, and Jack groaned at you tightening around him.
“Jesus fucking Christ, do that again baby.” His movements speeding up again. You clenched around him again and he let out a hot moan that made you shiver. Jack’s thrust grew quicker and quicker, the warm tight coil in your stomach tightening.
The smell of sex filled the bedroom, your feet aching at your heels and the restraint of the spreader bar, you were so close to cumming you felt tears slip the corner of your eyes.
“Aw sweetheart, you gonna cum? Yeah, angel?”
“Yes Jack, fuck-“ your nails dug into his back as you cried out.
“I’m yours Y/N. Yours. Gonna let me make you mine indefinitely? Will you let me pretty girl?” His tone was stern, but his words soft as he looked in your eyes.
“Fuck yes, I’m yours -do it, do it Jack, claim me.” You begged him as you wrapped your legs around him tighter.
His hips snapped faster, his high, and yours approaching quickly. “So fucking tight baby. This pussy is mine, m’gonna stuff you full with my cum, and you’re not gonna let any of it out, right princess? Gotta keep it safe for me, safe for Daddy yeah? Gonna make sure you get pregnant tonight; can’t wait to watch you grow our kid inside you, have everyone know I did that to you, have my kid, make you my wife, and then fuck you again and again, as many times and as many kids as you want baby.”
That’s all it took for you to be pushed over the edge. You let out a pornographic moan as your orgasm crashed over you. You felt like you were body was being electrocuted in the best way; as you were falling in a pit of euphoric bliss. You’re orgasm triggered Jack’s as you squeezed around his cock at a suffocatingly tight pressure, feeling his hot spurts of cum paint your walls. He let out a hot moan, grunting as he thrusted his final thrust into you.
The room was silent except for yours and Jack’s heavy breathing. Sweat slowly traveled down his hairline into yours, your skin hot and sticking to each other as the two of you were enveloped in an overwhelming level of body heat. Jack’s full weight rested against you, his chest hair lightly stretching your chest, his lips, finding yours again, softly kissing you before smattering kisses all over your face.
Jack’s hand came up and intertwined with yours as you both laid there.
“I love you, and I’m fucking stupid. I’m sorry.” He finally spoke, removing his face from your neck, laying it on your shoulder.
“Don’t say that about yourself. You’re not stupid, Jack. You were wrong, but so was I. We both were.” Your free hand came up to play with his curls as you placed a kiss to his sweaty forehead.
“Still, you’re right; I should have said something. Shouldn’t have opened her message in the first place. I’ll block her.” He exhaled, nuzzling into you.
“You don’t have to do that. Matter’fact, I have a better idea.” You looked down at him with a sly grin.
You grabbed his phone and fiddled with it, before typing a little.
“Enough about her. I’m not done with you, babygirl.” He growled, kissing down your body before settling between your legs, hungrily nipping at your inner thighs before delving into your pussy, face first.
You bit your lip, struggling to contain a moan, before breaking out a small smile. You looked down at your boyfriend before snapping a pic.
@jackharlow: he’s busy babe. Go bother someone else.
Attached was a picture of Jack eating you out, his grip on your hips tight and desperate, while he ate you out relentlessly.
You moaned loudly as his tongue worked his magic on you, tossing his phone to the ground before surrendering yourself completely to his assault of pleasure on your body.
————————————————————
Tag list: @hoodharlow @moody4world @watercolorskyy @lcandothisallday @harlowthot @triplexdoublex @thinkingaboutjharlow @bbyharlow @jackharlows-world @primadxna-girl @curlyhairclub @dessmxsworld @inluvwithladybug @babyharleezy @thysagclub @harlowcomehome @rebelxsun
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yuzukult · 1 year
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crush 03 | jww & oc/reader
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title: crush 03 / part of the attacca series pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader/oc (ft. seokmin) rating: 16+ (mentions of sex, but no act of sex) genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut, racecar driver!au, mechanic!au wc: 7.4k summary: all he knows are fast rides, drag-strips, and speed ovals until he meets you, someone that’s got his heart racing instead of his car. warnings: explicit language, smoking, suggestive content (but nothing follows through), mentions of sex a/n: sorry i actually finished this weeks ago but forgot to post it.. embarrassinng frfr
This place looks… a bit shady.
The address Wonwoo sends you doesn’t show a brief description on Google Maps as it normally does, and it’s missing a preview picture of what the location is supposed to look like. When you pull up into the driveway, the asphalt fades into a dusted dirt road with cars of all ages, models, and manufacturers that line up against the fencing before you notice a building with an open garage on the opposite side.
That’s where you spot Wonwoo, crouched over in a white tank and torn up black jeans with a soiled rag over his shoulder. The driver’s window of an old Chevy is down, and Wonwoo has his forearms resting against the panel, casually conversing to the operator of the vehicle. He’s… got nice arms. But that’s besides the point.
He taps against the door. “Tell me when you need me to take another look at the ventilator. Should be workin’ this time around, but if not, Imma have to advise you to get ‘nother car.”
At first, you didn’t get to make out the facial features of who was inside. The reflection of the beaming sunlight hitting the front windshield made it arduous to identify the driver, but when she peeks her head out just barely, you could pinpoint the owner of those pearly white teeth anywhere. It’s the cute flag girl that Seokmin took home that one day.
“Why? When I could just keep coming back to you instead?” 
But in lieu of reacting decrepitly to those pretty lashes that brush against her cherry tinted cheekbones like Seokmin does, Wonwoo is a major contrast when he slaps the top of the car with a charming smile. “Sweet, but it’s better to see your mechanic less and not more. Head home now, and only call if something happens to your car.”
With a failed sigh and pout, she waves goodbye to Wonwoo who watches as her car takes off.
Although when his eyes lands on you and your shitty ass Toyota, a show stopping grin tugs on the corners of his mouth. Wonwoo gestures for you to come to where the flag girl was earlier, and part of you feels a bit… special from the way he looks at her then at you. He seems happier, excited, even. 
Why couldn’t Seokmin look at you in that way?
Hopping out of the car, you puff your cheeks. “When I said I’d let you take me on a date, I didn’t think it would be here at your shop.”
“I know girls like you,” he begins, crossing his arms before leaning against the doorframe of the garage. Raising a brow, you’re not sure where he’s going with that, but you remain silent to let him continue. “You probably get asked out often and have the most boring dates. What’s the last date you've been on?”
That required some thinking. Maybe it was that guy you met on Tinder and took you out for a candlelit steak dinner. Or even that one dude who took you to that art gallery.
You don’t respond though because Wonwoo seemed to have wanted to guess himself. 
“Steak? Dim lighting, candles, maybe? Museums? How about even a walk by the river or waterfront, letting the cool breeze hit your face? Bet he tried to get into your pants after, which was why you didn’t call him back.”
That last one got you. You’ve been on that one before too, and had the same scenario happen. “What are you getting at here?”
He leans over to open your door wider, and you step aside. Reaching to pull the tab that pops the hood of your trunk, it only confuses you more on what he’s going to do next. “Well, I wanna be memorable, not some guy you went out with. Imma teach you how to change a flat.”
“I don’t have a flat.”
“Make believe, doll,” he chuckles, slamming your door shut. He walks to the back of your, pushing the trunk up, and his eyes skim the contents of the back. That term of endearment from Wonwoo is a new one, and for some reason, if it came from someone else, you’d be disgusted. But from him? It’s… kind of alluring? “Why you got so much junk in here?”
You flinch, immediately rushing to his side when the memory of what’s in your car comes to mind. “Oh shit, I—”
“Emergency one night stand kit?” He quirks a brow, lifting up a little tote back with the words woven into the canvas fabric. “You don’t look like the type.”
“It was a gift!” you exclaim, heat rushing to your cheeks as you snatch it back from him. “The contents inside don't match what the writing insists the purpose is for, I promise. I don’t do one night stands.”
“I know.” Wonwoo watches you in amusement, adoration swirling in his pools of chocolates he calls eyes. “You're one of those hopeless romantics. It’s taking a lot for you to even come on this date with me.”
You roll your lips in response, avoiding his loving gaze as you shuffle the stuff to make way for the lid of the compartment at the bottom of trunk. “How would you know that?”
“Because I see the way you look at Dokyeom, and it’s kind of the way that I look at you.” You choke on your saliva. Were you really that open of a book? Surely, it was true, but you didn’t think you were that obvious.
Dokyeom. It’s weird how Seokmin is your supposed best friend and yet there was so much about him you didn’t know. There was something underlying that he was hiding, and you want to dig deeper. Who was Dokyeom as this version of himself that he never once shared before? 
You clear your throat, warmth rushing to your cheeks. Wonwoo is rather bold. “Um, so… are you gonna teach me how to change my tire or what?”
Wonwoo knows he caught you in that moment, but he doesn’t pry for more. “Aight, well roll up your sleeves and let’s get our hands dirty, love.”
He shows you the compartment to find the spare and tools, the latch that you’ve always looked over is the one he pulls to expose another layer of your car. Was that what it was for? You sort of just threw your shit on top of it and hoped for the best. 
“Here, you’ll find your spare tire. I highly recommend that you don’t just ride it forever just cause you got it on. It’s a spare, it’s temporary. Don’t ever use it for long, it’s not meant for it.”
There’s a long, metal tool he brings out that resembles a cross. “This is a wrench,” then he grabs an unfamiliar mechanism in the shape of a diamond with a flat top, “the jack,” and finally, he points to the tire that peeks out just barely. “Lastly, the tire. Kinda heavy, but I can help you—”
“I got it,” you state daringly, shoving him to the side. 
He chuckles at your boldness with that look of veneration on his face like you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. “Okay, well, grab that—” Wonwoo gestures at the tire, watching carefully to make sure you don’t hurt yourself, “and just… lay it on the ground. And we’re gonna put the jack under the car.”
Oddly enough, Seokmin never really wanted to teach you how to change a tire. You’ve mentioned it to him once before—you found yourself on the side of the road on a highway, phone up to your ear as you frantically called your best friend to be your knight in shining armor. 
And when he arrived twenty minutes after your cry for help, he slammed the car door behind him with that smug look on his face as he said, “You rang?” 
But that was when he was more reliable.
These days, your calls are missed and you rarely see him as often as you used to. He’s so caught up in his new life, his career, and all the girls that you’ve only become a sliver of importance to him.
Somehow, you end up with a smear mark on your cheek from moving all the equipment around. Wonwoo thinks you’re cute like this; admittingly, you were just a girl he found attractive with an amusing attitude. But that night. That night the two of you exchanged numbers—it was the first time he ever met someone that tugged on his heartstrings in this way. How’d he get looped into talking to a girl over text for hours?
“Like this?” You query, looking up at him from below. The tire lock is fastened onto the lug nut of your rims with a socket wrench in your hand. “So, I just…”
“Yeah,” Wonwoo leans over, hand on yours as he shoves the head of the tire iron to fasten against the lock. “Then you just…” he drifts off, and instead of pushing you aside to do it himself as Seokmin would’ve, he guides you with his movements. Thrusting his weight and yours against the wrench, he turns it multiple times before the first one releases and drops onto the floor with a clank. “The first one is always hard because it’s anti-theft, but the other ones are a bit easier. If you can’t get it out, just… put your hands on the hood of the car and jump on it. Wanna finish it off?”
Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang.
Getting the lug nuts off was easier than you thought (were they on tight enough to begin with?) The tire tilts over to you, and you’re quick to catch it and set it aside. Wonwoo rolls the spare in your direction, watching as you puff your cheeks with a layer of sweat on your skin. You don’t seem bothered, despite the droplets that stream down the side of your neck, and he sort of expected you to confront him about this being a first date. Who takes a girl to learn how to change a flat for a first date?
Not many guys, that’s for sure.
With Wonwoo, he doesn’t act like a savior. When you’re struggling with pulling the tire off, he doesn’t come in and take over—he asks if you’d want his help, and when you’d reply with ‘no,’ he stays put. 
“Okay, next, you should put the spare where you took off the flat. Then secure it with the nuts, and put the car down with the jack. You should be good to go after you use the wrench to tighten it some more.”
“Hold this for me,” you drop the wrench in his palms and he’s fast in abiding. Aligning the spare tire to the bolts, you mount them by tightening the lug nuts into their initial spots by hand. Finally, stepping back, you lower the vehicle with the jack as he advises, snatching the tool back as he snickers at how focused you’ve become. 
You use all your strength—practically the entirety of your weight impeling into the wrench to secure the bolts in place. With a puff of exhausted air, you shove it back into Wonwoo’s hold. “Okay, done. Check it.”
He eyes you impishly, making his way to the spare that you proudly installed yourself, casually popping the head of the wrench to fit the lugs without much difficulty. Wonwoo does it with ease; everything happens so fluidly, from the way he checks the tightening of the lugs to the kick of the tire to see if it would slip out in any way. Your breath gets caught in your throat, a bit anxious of the results, but when he turns to you with a soft smile, your chest releases the tension.
“Wow, impressive for the first try. You sure you’ve never changed a flat before?”
“Promise,” you cheekily grin back. He’s sort of… cute. He reminds you of those flakey croissant pastries, expectant on the outside that the dish you pair with a cup of coffee would be just buttery. But taking in a bite, the strawberry jam spews from the insides, the fruit preserves leaving a candied taste on the tip of your tongue.
This was just part of the date, you soon learn, because after Wonwoo helps you wash your hands in the sink in his garage, he leads you behind the building where a field of green lies. 
His auto shop was located on the borderlines of the city and the suburbs—just a couple blocks over, if you took a step to the left, you would’ve been on the outskirts of the city lines but one move to the right, you’ll find yourself in the heart of the crowd of skyscrapers. Farther back of the property, the dusty road fades into a green field (well, sorta. It’s got patches, definitely needs some TLC, but you digress), and although it’s not the prettiest with scattered pieces of car junk across the lawn, his setup that he has displayed makes it… cute. He’s got this red and white checkered blanket that lays on the grass, boxes of screws on either corners and a hammer thrown at the other. 
You glance over at Wonwoo.
He’s quick to shove it off the blanket, dropping the wicker basket where the hammer once was. 
“Were you premeditating a murder?”
“If the night doesn’t go well, maybe,” he jokes. “I’m kidding, I had a feeling it was gonna get windy and I didn’t want the two of us spending half the day trying to get the thing to stay still. I did it myself before you came.”
He’s kinda cute.
“I couldn’t dress as nicely, I realized I don’t think I own any pairs of pants without a grease stain on it,” Wonwoo admits apologetically, plopping down on the blanket in his raw hemmed black jeans and the short sleeve button up that he doesn’t bother actually buttoning up. Part of you is tempted to ask him if he bought those jeans like that or if he cut it himself (you think it’s the latter). 
Seokmin always had a thing about his appearance. The cleaner and slicker you seem, the more name brands that decorate your clothing, and the type of vehicle you drive says a lot about you. 
But to Wonwoo, it’s clear that those things don’t matter. 
He’s not rich in terms of the money stashed in his pockets or the digits in his bank account, but his wealth resides within his personality and knowledge. As you slice off a piece of cheese to pair with your cracker and prosciutto off a charcuterie board he attempted to make (you give him props for this as he humbly mentions he gives all the credit to those moms on forum websites posting their recipes), you learn more as to why Wonwoo never went to college—both willingly and unwillingly. And yet, he harbors so much wisdom in terms of cars and racing, earning all your respect that he chose a non-traditional route and remains successful.
You recall that night over the phone how he wished he could go to college, but he doesn’t have the means to. Wonwoo dropped out of high school during his senior year, just months before graduating, and although he didn’t fully explain why, the admiration in your gaze when he mentions he’d gotten his GED several months ago is evident. 
Wonwoo isn’t what you’re used to; growing up, it was established that you were to meet a man with a bachelor’s degree, and the bonus is if he obtains a master’s. When your hands are stained, whether it be grease from the stove, oil from a car, flour from dough, or paint off a canvas, it’s recognized as a labor intensive job and the more physical work you do, the less intelligent you are.
This was not the case. 
Admittingly, he doesn’t know anything about kinematics or conservation of energy, but he knows what to do when your carburetor is failing or if your water pump leaks. Analyzing the works of Shakespeare or reading a novel without dozing off wasn’t quite his forte, but he’s better in other fields and there’s so much admiration for that. “I like jobs that give back to society,” he said that night, and it gifts you the perspective that there is more to the world beyond being employed at a corporate company. Wonwoo sets a different standard for you, but even on a sweet date like this where he’s pouring a glass of moscato for you as you watch the sun setting in the horizon… you can’t help but let your thoughts flood with Seokmin once again. 
When Wonwoo’s eyes curl into moon crescents with a laugh so buttery and deep, you discern a lot more clearly how much Seokmin has a hold on you. A great guy sits before you and you can’t get your head unwrapped from Lee Seokmin.
“When’d you get into racing?” You ask, deciding that maybe if you get to know him better, you’d stop thinking about the guy who’d rather be at a rooftop bar downtown with a girl he just met fifteen minutes ago. “I’ve never seen you at any of the tournaments.”
“Mmm,” he hums, brushing his hands off each other from the crumbs. “About a month before that cup. One of the sponsors of the stadium saw me racin’ on the streets a couple months ago. Once he found my name, he got me a competitor’s license and forced me on the track. Said somethin’ like he’d help me pay for everything, including two months of mortgage on my shop.” Wonwoo shrugs, reaching over to grab another cracker from the bag. “Two months is a lot. Plus, if he’s paying for everything else and all I needed was a crew, not a big deal. It’s really just a money game.”
You purse your lips. “Any reason for him to want you to race?”
“It’s probably gettin’ boring watching Dokyeom win all the time.”
Oh. You never really thought of it like that. “But he won the circuit,” you clarify. “I don’t get it.”
He grabs a handful of the crackers and lays it across the wooden board for you, adjusting himself on the picnic blanket as he tilts his head to the side. “Yea, but I also came in second with milliseconds on the clock. Not to mention that this is the first of the series–I think they just want somethin’ new to the competition ‘cause there hasn’t been any fresh meat lately. Or, if there are any, they ‘un really last.”
You quirk a brow. “You’re not fresh meat–you raced on the streets.”
Wonwoo winks playfully. “You know that, but they don’t.”
There’s a lot to unpack–the recruiting of Wonwoo into an industry that he didn’t really see himself in, only to be lured to race with a bribe because it was getting boring to watch Seokmin win so frequently? You have a never ending list of questions, ones that Wonwoo couldn’t necessarily answer, but one you were suspicious enough to keep digging. But when Wonwoo lifts the honey dipper made of turned wood to collect the honey from the jar and onto your chunk of cheese, he says one last thing that erases all your curiosity.
“Dokyeom almost got a monopoly on stock car racing. No new consistent racers in the past two years entering this category, instead they’re headin’ off to Formula 1 or drag. They’re losing all potential new money ‘cause there’s nobody that can match his potential. Thinkin’ that the guy just wanted me there to get the ball rollin, let people know that it’s not impossible to beat the Lee Seokmin.”
Popping the piece of parmesan into your mouth, you roll your lips. “Well, you didn’t beat him either,” you tease, and he rolls his eyes with a smile tugging on the edges of his lips. He’s got the same sense of humor as you do, and he makes it a little hard not to get enticed by his charms. “So what of it?”
“I didn’t have to beat him, I just had to get close enough,” he grins. “Why? Are you not impressed that I didn’t beat him?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Mm,” he nods slowly while feigning a frown. “Damn. Should’ve told me earlier, maybe I would’ve actually tried beating him then.”
How did this conversation end up looping right back into Seokmin when you asked to distract yourself from him?
“Do… Do you even like racing, Wonwoo?”
“Honestly?” he glances over at you before looking back at the sunset. The hues of warmth that radiate the ordinary star is a pretty sight as it shines on his face, and it’s evident why he’s enamored by many. “No. I like cars, and I love the speed, but I prefer being under the hood than behind the wheel. Knowing how the gears turn and what’s the reason for the black smoke and why your car stutters is more appealing to me than burning rubber on asphalt.”
“Hm,” you hum, remaining silent to bask in the fresh air. You say it often, but Wonwoo is…different. He indulges in the present moments in life; he doesn’t dwell on the past, in fact, he embraces it and learns from it. The type of person that travels with a loose agenda, a couple locations and hot spots in mind to touch, but never abiding by what’s written as if it’s set in stone. 
He’s carefree. Flowing like linens hanging dry on the clothesline on a warm, breezy day.
“And what about you?” he asks, those chocolate swirling orbs just full of adoration and interest. Wonwoo looks at you in a way that you could only dream for Seokmin to do the same, but he’s slowly easing you into the idea of it being someone else. “Do you like cars? Racing?”
“Have you seen my car?” you laugh, quirking a brow. “To me, a car is just something that takes you from point A to point B. Otherwise, it means nothing to me.”
“Funny, isn’t it?”
“What is?” Tilting your head to the side, it’s your turn to gaze at him with intrigue. 
“You just… see cars differently than I do,” he says with a soft smile. “It’s not bad, but it holds so many meanings for me, left core memories, and for you, you blatantly say that it’s a means of transportation.”
You feel bad for saying it like that but… it is just a car.
“It may seem like just a car,” he begins, and you think for a second that he reads your mind. “But every meaningful moment in my life had a car involved in it.”
Maybe Wonwoo has a point—it’s like how some people just view a croissant as just a flaky pastry you could have with coffee in the mornings or tea in the afternoons. But others, the aroma of freshly baked croissants imbues the kitchen, creating a wave of nostalgia sweeping over them. The residual butter left on their fingertips when they tear into the crisp, crescent shaped pastry is a sign that it’s been made with the utmost love, just as their elder relatives baked it.
“Do you have something like that?” It’s… a good question. Truthfully, you’ve never thought about that before, and maybe it’s from the way you live your life, but you’ve hardly stopped and just immersed yourself within a moment. “I… I don’t think I do. I’ve been so caught up in preparing for what’s next that it’s never crossed my mind.”
“Well,” he begins, taking a bite from a cracker. “Let that be something you figure out before the next time we meet.”
You quirk a brow in amusement. “You’re already thinking about another date?”
“Aren’t you?” He mimics your expression. “I thought you’re always thinking one step again. Unless, you don’t view me in that way and decide that there wouldn’t be a next time?”
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There is definitely a next time. 
Actually, there ends up being a lot of “next times.”
In fact, meeting with Wonwoo has become a routine. 
There’s excitement that runs through your veins, similar to the adrenaline rush that Seokmin raves on about when he races, except this is simply because of your eagerness to see Wonwoo after work. Once the clock strikes five, your bag is already slung over your shoulder with the door shut behind you.
Some nights, you find yourself drowning in projects with deadlines, stuck in the four walls of your office that feel like they’re closing in. It’s suffocating—spending more than the required eight hours in what feels like an enclosed space, wishing that you could be anywhere else but there.
That is, until you and Wonwoo grew closer.
You never thought of yourself as someone who would find comfort in the sound of tools clanging against each other or on the concrete ground. Wonwoo likes to blast a mixtape he made back in high school—which basically was just a list of songs that you’d know the lyrics to because you used to have it on full volume with your whole emo getup back in your rebellious and angsty teenage years.
When you started to spend more time in his shop, he made a note to build a make-shift desk for you–yes, it was basically a tool cart with a long piece of a wood plank, but with the wheels locked, a swivel chair he used to run reports at his shitty computer (that was also on another tool cart) and a lamp he bought from Walmart (it has a pink base, he thought you’d like that), it felt welcoming. After a long day at the office with work still not done, this change of scenery is nice, especially since Wonwoo makes it crystal clear that he wants your company.
Some days are more uneventful than others, but nonetheless, they’re nice. You liked the calmness–there was something soothing about that roar of the engine when Wonwoo would lean into the open window to turn the key in the ignition for a test run.
Today, though, falls a bit outside of that placid routine.
You drop by, mostly because you’re bored and you don’t want to be alone in your apartment, plus it’s almost guaranteed that Wonwoo would be at the car shop (well, also because his place is literally… connected to it. You opened the wrong door trying to find the bathroom once, only to see this huge backroom that looked like a loft. Wonwoo loves work so much that he lives in it).
As you enter the garage, eyes glued to the screen of your phone, your car keys dangle from your fingers as you’re tapping away. “Do you wanna order dinner? I heard there’s this Chinese place a couple blocks down–they deliver so we can just call–”
“Ehem,” Wonwoo clears his throat, arms crossed over his chest. Attention now on him, that’s when you notice the other four men in the shop, casually sitting on the couch, leaning on a car, and standing beside Wonwoo. “Um, so these are my friends.”
Friends. Wonwoo introduces you to them; Mingyu, Minghao, Seungcheol and Vernon are their names, and from what you recall, they seem to have been the same guys that were on his crew back at the track. They’re all car guys, you learn, knowing Wonwoo from way back and it makes you wonder if they knew Seokmin–or well, Dokyeom–at the time but you don’t probe for more. If Seokmin wants to remain mysterious, then he can stay that way.
“So,” Mingyu, who is definitely over 6-feet tall, begins cheekily, pushing himself off the car. “Are you the reason why Wonwoo won’t come out with us to drink? We’ve been asking him for the past month to come out and he keeps giving us bullshit excuses.”
You blink blankly. Was… Wonwoo turning them down to see you?
“I’m sorry,” you turn to stare at Wonwoo for a brief moment before turning back to Mingyu. “Was… Was he doing that? I didn’t even know.”
“He must like you,” Seungcheol chimes in, snickering as Wonwoo smacks Seungcheol’s chest with the back of his hand. “What! I’m just sayin’. You never reject us. Except for that one time your mom came into town, but other than that, you’re basically always comin’ with us. Did a surprise drop by… lo’ and behold. Jeon here's got a girlie.”
Wonwoo rolls his eyes as he twists around to snatch a carton of cigarettes off the shelf of his supplies. “You came for the cigs, bro. Stop saying shit. You’re gon’ scare her.”
“Ohhhh,” Minghao chimes in teasingly. “So you care about what she thinks of you–thinks of us. That’s cute,” he hops up from the couch before coming over to you. “If Jeon gives you a hard time…” with a wink, he then gestures to the other boys to follow. “Just lemme know. Or any of them. We’ll be back around, so we’ll catch you later. Nice to meet you, cutie.”
When they leave, you’re left alone with Wonwoo once again.
“Am I holding you back?”
Wonwoo stares at you blankly with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the red tool cart roller. “Holding me back from what?”
You shrug, putting down your phone onto the make-shift coffee table (it’s just a creeper parked on a cardboard box). “I don’t know. They made it seem that way—I mean, we’re not really dating, so I feel bad if I’m… holding you back from anything. You should see your friends—whether or not we are together.”
“I can make that decision for myself,” Wonwoo shoots back, pushing himself up as he makes his way to the car in the garage. “They’ll see me around, not a big deal. And yeah, I’m down for Chinese. You tryna get me the vegetable lo mein?”
You eye him carefully. The thing with Wonwoo versus Seokmin is that he says it straight up—no hesitation, no crazy maze where you need to probe for clues to reach the end, and he doesn’t expect you to figure him out in a heartbeat. Wonwoo inspects your actions, and if you give it away that you don’t understand, he’s transparent with how he answers.
Wonwoo doesn’t feel like the game of cat and mouse.
“Do you want to share sweet and sour chicken and maybe some wings?”
“Of course. And make sure they have Coca Cola—not Pepsi.”
When you’re both sitting on his secondhand couch of the garage, utilizing one of the ULINE tool cabinets as a more sturdy table, there’s boxes of Chinese food that’s sprinkled all across. His carton of lo mein is now empty, remnants of the grease left on the sides with bits of bean sprouts too small to grab with his chopsticks and the bones of the chicken wings are left on those crappy napkins that you’d find in fast food joints and coffee shops, saturated in the oils and probably leaving marks on the cart. Wonwoo eats fast but he always stays seated until you finish your meal despite being done his.
He used to keep his garage cold, the overhead rolling door made of metal and not including much insulation from the weather outside, but ever since you’ve kept him company more frequently, he’s installed some ceiling mounted unit heater to keep the area warm. The humming of the machine is what breaks the silence between the two of you, but Wonwoo doesn’t fail to bring it up, nonetheless.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, brows furrowed in confusion. “You usually are babbling about your day right about now. Didn’t you and Sunny go shopping yesterday? She didn’t spill any gossip?”
You roll your lips. Are you normally that talkative around him? And if so, are you really that comfortable?
“Um, yeah, we did,” you begin, placing down your carton of rice. “And sorta. Not really. Mostly complained about work.”
He makes a sound by sucking in his teeth before sitting up to rest his elbows on his knees. “Alright, what’s up? Tell me.”
Normally, you’d just… tell the other person to let it go. Even with Seokmin, when he pries, you’re quick on your feet to tell him to ‘not worry about it’ and that ‘this unreasonable feeling will pass eventually.’
But Wonwoo is great at breaking barriers that you never thought you’d do.
Placing down your chopsticks, you let out a sigh along with the drop of your shoulders. “Okay, okay. I just feel bad. We’re not official—and that’s entirely on me, and I really do enjoy spending time with you—whatever this may be—but I also don’t want to be the one to hold you back on things like going out with your friends, meeting other girls, or just… I don’t know. Seeing those guys just made me think of that. I know that you might like me and—”
“Mm, hush.”
You blink blankly.
“Listen,” Wonwoo begins, hands together stiffly in semblance to this situation. “That’s on me too, right? I don’t think you’re leading me on, in fact, I think you’re establishing boundaries—like you are now. I went on a date with you, and it didn’t work. So be it. But—let’s make this clear, we are friends. I’m good with you coming over here whenever you want. And yea, I do like you. You gimme a lot of reasons to, but that don’t mean we can’t be friends. And if it makes you feel any better, I do hang with ‘em, they’re just bein’ dramatic because I spend my weekdays with you the most.”
“Oh,” you reply doltishly. “I didn’t think of it like that.”
“Well, start,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “Look, I know that you and Seokmin have these unspoken feelings and I’d rather you resolve them if you decide to take anything further. I’m cool with just chillin’ as friends, and we’re not doing anything wrong by it. I just may be a lil’ sweeter for you is all, only cause I got a crush. But my feelings aren’t hurt by it.”
This is… different.
Although you constantly say that Seokmin and Wonwoo are opposites (well, duh, they’re not the same person), it’s almost become repetitive and annoying how frequent you come to these “realizations.” Wonwoo has evidently seen a lot in his life, endured a lot, and due to that, he’s… emotionally mature. 
As for Seokmin—well, need you say more?
Somehow, the end of the evening isn’t awkward. He makes you laugh with a story about how a client came over, exclaiming on the top of their lungs how the backseat wouldn’t prop itself up, only for Wonwoo to find the seat belt covering the opening that holds it up. Although it was very tempting to smack a $300 invoice to his customer, he chose the better route of just telling them upfront what the issue was.
Although he’s understanding, prioritizing the friendship he’s created with you, he doesn’t make it hard to consider him as more than a friend.
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“Well, you look giddy.”
“Hmm?” You respond dumbly, looking up from your phone full of texts. Wonwoo ended up feeling bad that his friends thought he’d been neglecting them, so he agreed to go to a bar tonight with them and maybe hit a club afterwards–but that doesn’t stop him from constantly messaging you. “Me? Or Sunny?”
P flicks your hand. “You, you idiot.”
“Oh.”
Sunny snorts in amusement, placing another strip of meat onto the grill. It sizzles from the impact of heat and the fat content of the beef, steam filling the air for a brief second before the ventilator sucks it up. “You didn’t tell us about that date with Wonwoo. You dodged all the texts in our group chat.”
You shrug, grabbing the spare tongs to help Sunny add more meat onto the grate. “Um, because it’s kind of weird.”
P raises a brow. “And how is it weird? Was he strange?”
Sunny’s attention is off of cooking now, diverting toward you. “OMG. Did we make you go on a date with a weirdo?”
You glance over at the two. “Wait-what?” Pretending to resume to the grill, you poke a couple of the raw pieces that lay across with another set of tongs. “No, no. He… He’s honestly great. I haven’t felt that connection with someone in a while–he taught me how to install a spare tire–”
P blinks blankly. “He taught you how to change your spare? What kind of date is that?”
And for a moment, a wash of judgment appears across Sunny’s face but it softens when she finally realizes. “... Because you told him that Seokmin promised to come and “save the day,” didn’t you? Then Wonwoo probably thought for a first date idea… teaching you how to change a spare…”
Then it clicks for P; her shoulders loosen and fall when she’s aware of the meaning behind the date. “He… didn’t want you to depend on Seokmin anymore.”
Sunny frowns, flipping over the meat on the grill. “If that’s the reason… Why’s that weird? Sounds sweet. If anything, I kinda give him props for that. Did he at least take you out to dinner?”
You chew on your bottom lip. “Well, he made a whole picnic basket.”
Both Sunny and P glare at you. “And what’s wrong with that?”
“He’s… not Seokmin.”
Gross. It sounds pathetic leaving from your mouth.
The looks that Sunny and P give you are full of pity. How could you be so weak for a guy that doesn’t even respect you enough to hide when he has flings? Someone who claims that they’re yours, but they spent most of their time pursuing anyone but you. It’s a constant recurring thought, and the reminders are always smacking you in the face and yet, you’re here, sitting in front of your two best friends after going on a date with someone who could potentially give you the world and more yet Seokmin still remains on your mind.
“Listen,” P begins, placing down her chopsticks by the side of her plate. Sunny clears off the grill and lowers the fire, mimicking P’s actions with her tongs. “Sunny and I talked about this, and we realized that yes, although we really don’t support this unrequited love between you and Seokmin, it’s still your life and your choices to make. We want you to know that we’re by your side, and behind you through it all, even if you end up with Seokmin, but we’ll say this one last time.”
“We think you should move on, love.” 
Your phone lights up beside you, Wonwoo’s name on display with the preview of his text. He asks if you like mint chocolate, a debate that he and his friends have had since God knows when, and it may determine if he wants to keep chasing you. When you unlock the phone, Seokmin’s chat is pinned to the top with your message being the most recent and sent two days ago. He just… disregarded the picture you shared of the two of you in college, his arm over your shoulders with smiles stretched across your faces.
“It’s… It’s hard,” you admit, and this time, it feels like the weight on your chest releases. “I think… I’d already had this idea that he and I would end up together engraved in my brain that I can’t seem to let go.”
“Well, how about this? You at least keep giving Wonwoo a shot if he does make you happy or if you’re even remotely interested. He seems sweet, and he also seems to know where you stand with Seokmin, which makes it easier to not have to explain to him the situation.”
You roll your lips. “I–Okay.”
Just then, your screen lights up again. Speaking of the Devil.
Wonwoo [11:54PM]: You can hold off on that political question for later. Since you’re still awake… my other friends wanna meet you. Wanna come out and grab a bite w us?
Quickly, you show your phone to the girls.
“Fuck yeah, tell them to come here,” P nearly shouts, and you hush her. “Forreal, give Wonwoo the address. We’ll get more chairs–switch tables if we gotta. I’m tryna see him in person.”
Sunny starts touching up on her makeup in her compatible mirror. “Get them to come! It shouldn’t be too far from where they are, right?”
It wasn’t.
In fact, Wonwoo and his friends were a couple blocks down–when you sent him the text of where you and your friends are, he eagerly sent a screenshot of Google Maps to show how close he was. 
When they walk into the BBQ joint, it’s very hard to miss them. For one, you spot familiar faces—Mingyu, Minghao, Seungcheol and Vernon from the shop, followed by three other guys you never met personally before, but you remember them from Wonwoo’s pit before the tournament. It makes you wonder—did he just hire all his friends to be his pit crew members? And if he did, that’s… impressive. You don’t think you could name any of Seokmin’s friends that would spend their Saturday rushing to change his tires—not to mention that they probably aren’t even trained to do it.
Then, you spot Wonwoo. He pushes through the group, shuffling to see where you are, and when your eyes meet, his smile doesn’t fail to stretch across from ear to ear. 
“Hey,” he says breathily, probably from all the shoving. “It’s… Good to see you. Kinda thought you were avoiding me after the mint chocolate question. It can be a touchy subject for some people.”
You let out a laugh; it’s so genuine and warm when it releases from your chest that it causes both P and Sunny to raise a brow at you before glancing at each other.
You’re different around him.
It’s so clear to both your best friends why Wonwoo is the choice you should make, and you’re displaying it right now. The comfortable body language, the laugh, and how you introduce them to him without any nerves. He’s so sweet when he offers to cook (only for one of his other friends to snatch the tongs from him with a hiss to take over, it’s still the thought and attempt that counts).
Wonwoo takes the seat next to you. Of course he does, he likes you, but there’s something inside of you that has trouble with swallowing that information. And truthfully? It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy his company or want to reject his feelings—if anything, you’ve caught yourself imagining the what-ifs. 
Then, Seokmin’s face shows up in those fantasies.
It’s a reminder of why you need a remedy for your lovesick symptoms, mostly because if a guy like Wonwoo is here with his rowdy friends, unable to keep his eyes that are full of adoration for you, then why would you waste your time with someone else right here?
You could… You could see yourself falling for Wonwoo. It’ll take time, that’s for sure, but you don’t think it’s impossible.
“How do you like your steak?” He asks, tongs in hand as he turns his head away from the grill to look at you. “Medium? Fully cooked?”
“Medium rare,” you answer, and Wonwoo serves you first before kindly asking the same question to your friends. P and Sunny are impressed, rolling their lips to suppress their giggles and teasing, wiggling their brows in your direction. 
“So,” P begins, putting down her chopsticks. “We heard you’re a racecar driver.”
He chuckles, rubbing his nape awkwardly. “I–I wouldn’t necessarily say that. Was a temp thing.”
Seungcheol nudges Wonwoo. “Don’t act all humble. It’s aight to say it, you’re a racecar driver now. You got to compete with Kyeomie, I’d say you deserve the title.” He winks teasingly, but you know he says it to give Wonwoo the push he needs. Seungcheol naturally leads their group of friends; you’ve seen him gesture to Mingyu to grab the tongs and start cooking when he sees plates empty, tell Minghao to ask the server for more drinks when the liquid in the glasses get low, and even just now, when he encourages Wonwoo to be a little bolder. Wonwoo’s pit crew wasn’t just his “pit crew”... they’re his friends. You admire that.
The night runs smoothly. P and Sunny are so impressed and smitten with Wonwoo, constantly encouraging you to make moves on him. Quite frankly, you even… forgot about Seokmin for a moment.
That is, until your eye catches him entering the restaurant.
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