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#CAUSE IT’S THE EARLY 2000’S
ablizmal · 4 months
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random little… lawlizzie treat for you guys before i go to bed is that sometimes, while L is working on the case, juliette stays in the same room, parallel play and all that, right??
yeah, so that but she’s on her personalized laptop making youtube poops with headphones on dbksdhskdjajsks
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skeletood · 2 months
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do you have any music headcanons for john?
of the kind of shit he listens to?
yes. yes i do.
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southern--downpour · 7 months
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for some reason my brain has very strong opinions on the music tastes of marble hornets characters & bc of this i cannot listen to almost any playlist for em cause theyre all Wrong
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illdothehotvoice · 2 months
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Every day I am SO sad because the M&L series were trying SO SO hard to make E.Gadd a character outside of Luigi's Mansion and then they just stopped using him.
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shmorp-mcdurgen · 7 months
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Your ocs look like they're from The Amazing Digital Circus (ONLY 5 DAYS LEFT UNTIL THE RELEASE :DDDD)
I've never heard of that before- /lh
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gladly-be-the-good · 10 months
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Having ADD is so weird. One second I'll be trying to memorize the parts of the brain for my intro to psych class, the next I'll be rewatching tv shows whose target audience is about ten years younger than me, and then I'll get the sudden urge to do deep dive research into twelve century folklore?? Like, what the heck??
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plushie-lovey · 1 year
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Lowkey thinking about going back and buying a BAB I saw at goodwill yesterday. He was an older styled brown bear with long fur. He was quite handsome, and looked to be in good condition
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baycitystygian · 1 year
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y’all I am going absolutely feral. I’ve been glued to this one show lately and it’s a 90’s sitcom called Caroline In The City and it’s driving me crazy. I love it. I love the characters (except Charlie but he doesn’t get a super huge amount of screen time so like. whatever) and the main ship is just so fucking GOOD and the writers are dragging this out so bad. literally giving me ship blueballs and I hate thisssssssss just let them be happy already 😭
#I THINK THEY WERE TRYING TO BE FRASIER#CAUSE LIKE. THEY DEFINITELY HAD A LOT OF RELATIONSHIP PLOT POINTS IN COMMON WITH DAPHNE AND NILES. SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU CARE.#IM ONLY ON SEASON THREE SO DONT SPOIL ANYTHING FURTHER#BUT LIKE. IT STARTED OFF WITH THE GUY PINING FOR THE GIRL. CHECK. THEN THE GIRL GETS FEELINGS FOR THE GUY BUT OOPS THE GUY IMPULSIVELY-#GOT MARRIED TO SOMEONE HORRIBLE. ALSO BACKING IT UP A LITTLE THE GIRL WAS ENGAGED TO SOMEONE ELSE BUT IT DIDNT WORK OUT#ALSO I HAVE TO SCREAM ABOUT RICHARD OR I WILL IMPLODE#RICHARD IS *THE* POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOW TO END ALL POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOWS#HES HANDSOME AND DORKY AND BROODY WITH REALLY PRETTY BIG EYES AND HE HAS NEVER COMMITTED A WAR CRIME BUT IF HE DID HE WOULD HAVE EARNED IT#THE MAN PUT UP WITH SO MUCH. POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOW BASICALLY GETS TORTURED EVERY EPISODE. HES EARNED A LITTLE HOMICIDE. AS A TREAT.#also sorry for all caps but I’m REALLY REALLY INTO THIS SHOW AND IM EXCITED TO TALK ABOUT IT#this is gonna be wingsposting all over again huh. me talking about my 90’s sitcom du jour and nobody else getting it or caring.#anyways Richard Korinsky can get it and I’ll volunteer. but also him and Caroline are just so 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺#ALSO DAVID HYDE PIERCE WAS IN AN EPISODE AND MY GOD HE PUT HIS WHOLE PUSSY INTO IT HES SO ICONIC#THERES SO MANY AMAZING GUEST STARS. I RECOGNIZED GEORGE SEGAL BEFORE HE EVEN SHOWED HIS FACE ON CAMERA.#I LITERALLY SAW THE BACK OF HIS HEAD AND WAS LIKE NO FUCKING WAYYYYY#i LOVE just shoot me so I’m used to seeing him in the late 90’s/early 2000’s. I am not clairvoyant I’m just a dorrrrrrrrrrrrk
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Damn… are Daigo and Mine this buff in game because they look like they’re Jojo characters, and it’s kinda hot.
what part of jojo are we talking about cause i dont. make them THAT buff
they are shredded though that is correct mine's introduction cutscene is literally him shirtless and working out and being all sweaty and Genuinely Actually steaming
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yuuki-mishima · 2 years
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I am so obsessed with Jimmy Mcgill/Saul Goodman, I have now developed a little crush on Bob Odenkirk... I am so embarrassed 😔
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REALEST SHIT EVER
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blackcandlesinwinter · 4 months
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Hey, I made a silly quiz about the early-2000's internet if anyone wants to take it!
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mildlylesbian · 1 year
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Boys Alone and Girls Alone (both by Real Stories) are such interesting watches. Right now I'm witnessing a bunch of 11-year-old boys go through the 5 stages of grief while surrounded by their own mistakes - it's great
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hellishjoel · 8 months
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cherry 
7.6k / pairing: dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader
Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4
summary: Joel invites you over for a movie night with your parents and Sarah out of town. How are you supposed to focus on the film with his hand on your thigh? 
warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, neighbor!joel, age gap (reader is in their early 20s while Joel is in his 40s), cursing, alcohol consumption, use of pet names, softdom! Joel AND dom!Joel (restraint by command), oral sex (m receiving), praise kink, reader titty appreciation, super descript about Joel’s bulging biceps (we all know the picture that came out with him holding onto his luggage and I have not REST)
A/N: I wrote all of this today.. I don't know what's wrong with me. I hope you enjoy! I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope these two are growing on ya'll as much as they're growing on me <33
Joel could sense the shift, his hand coming to gently cup your cheek and bring your eyes back to his. He didn’t look mad like you maybe expected of him.  You could feel his jaw going slack under your thumb, your mouth sucking in the side of your cheek as you sat in awkward silence. You sort of wanted to leap out of his lap and return to the movie. But he wouldn’t let you, he planted you there with his hand on your hip and forced you to look at him. You teetered your wine glass on his shoulder.  “You wanna kiss me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, causing a few syllables to be cut out due to the raspiness. You slowly nod. A beat passes. “Why won’t ya let me then?”
A few times throughout the summer, the lakehouse was yours and yours alone.  While on vacation, your parents always make it a point to go out to dinner and drinks with their old friends that lived in a neighboring town, leaving you in blissful solitude. 
You used to go with them when you were younger, too young to be left home alone. You’d hang out with their son, Nathan, on the tire swing or go swimming in their pool. 
Once you and Nathan both turned thirteen, you found that Nathan was involved in a lot of sports leagues that summer, and therefore he wasn’t going to be around much. Your parents didn’t want to punish you and force you to hang out with four grown adults all day, so they let you stay behind at the lakehouse. 
It was your first sense of freedom, taking care of yourself, having your own routine. You remember breaking into your piggy bank and riding your bike into town with Sarah that day to play at the arcade. You came back home with your lackluster arcade prizes and made mediocre hot dogs. It was a little lonely, the house often bustling with noise from your parents, but it was also serene to be alone. 
Needless to say, you were at peace to wave your parents off this morning as they backed out of the driveway and left you and the lakehouse for the day. 
Your eyes flitted over to the Miller’s. Both Joel’s pickup truck and Sarah’s used and abused 2000’s red Saturn were parked in the shade. Part of you couldn’t believe Sarah could even drive. That five-year-ish age difference felt even more profound as young adults. 
You tried to find ways to busy yourself tonight until your date with Joel. Date? Not a date. Hang out. Movie night. Meet up. Rendezvous. Literally any other word besides date. 
You needed to distract yourself because tonight was a ways away. 
You busied yourself with cleaning your room and bathroom, followed by reading on the dock. When it got too warm, you took a refreshing dip in the lake, followed by some leisurely sunbathing. After a shower, you found solace in jotting down your thoughts in your journal, channeling any residual nerves about the upcoming night.
You found that documenting your summer experiences provided you with a sense of clarity. You aimed to revisit these entries later in life, reminiscing about the intensity of your emotions. These pages held memories of your first boyfriend, the elation of passing your driving test, the ache of lost friendships, and the journey to college.
After the bonfire, before you couldn’t even think about sleeping, you were ferociously writing in your journal. The way your heart raced, the way you were so proud of yourself for taking a leap of faith with Joel. Because it was so, so worth it. 
In the decades to come, the memories you once experienced that felt so fresh would naturally fade. That’s the point of your journals, to document how deeply you felt about your life at the time. Pouring your emotions onto the page felt like tending to a wounded heart. In hindsight, those entries about sadness and turmoil elicited a little giggle. Your mom always told you that it was better to feel anything than not to feel at all. 
You wondered how much Joel felt, like, really felt. On the surface, he was as cold and unmoveable as stone. What was he like with his passions and the people he cared about? You knew he loved Sarah to an unimaginable degree. He would do anything for her. But besides his own blood, what were the things he cared about? 
After putting pen to paper, you shoved your journal under your pillow and started to get ready. You over-dicked-around, and now the clock was ticking.  
You wanted to look somewhat nice. After your recent interactions with Joel, one where you quite literally looked like you just rolled out of bed, you were keen on looking at least somewhat presentable. 
But it was a movie night, after all, and you wanted to be comfortable. You opted to wear something simple, not too date-ey, not too casual. But you did wear Joel’s hoodie. It wasn’t for any overt purpose but because Joel’s house consistently seemed to mimic an icebox. Joel struck you as someone who could thrive in Alaska, content in solitude amid the cold. 
The hoodie still smelled like him, mixed with a little residual bonfire smoke, but his scent was still deeply lodged into the fabric. A navy hoodie with fraying material around the neckline and cuffs. Well-worn and well-loved. He must have loved it enough not to take it to work because it was free of any stains and rips from what you could tell. 
You twirled your finger around the hoodie’s strings, looking yourself over slowly in the mirror. Your eagerness practically floated you over to Joel’s house, Sarah’s car now gone. She must have left for her camping trip. 
After taking cautious steps up Joel’s rickety porch, you sent a rhythmic knock against the Miller’s front door. You heard a few heavy steps on the other side, hearing a lock flip before Joel appeared in front of you.
“It’s about time, I was starting to sweat.” You said as you pulled open the screen door that divided you two before walking past him, catching his subtle eye roll as you did so. 
The house looked like the same as it did ten years ago. Lots of dark wood, a cozy living room with a fireplace, and a lamp in the corner by the window. Joel had the perfect view of the lake. You naturally gravitated further into the room to look at the water glisten as the last hits of sunshine glided over the horizon. 
“You want somethin’ to drink?” 
Your head snapped to Joel, your arms already crossed at the cooler temperature piercing through the material of your clothes. 
“Yeah, what do you have?” Your small steps trekked into the kitchen, finally taking a full look at Joel. Your face faltered at the sight of him. 
Joel had traded in his usual tattered green flannel for a nicer, cleaner denim button-up. He had on his staple worn-in jeans, and for whatever reason, he still had on his work boots. But his hair was sort of run-through, freshly showered and combed back. He looked handsome, clean, like he was trying. 
You slyly smiled at him. He seemed to quickly catch your drift, already avoiding your eye contact with a huff. “I got... Whiskey,”
“Ew, no.” 
“Root beer,”
“Nope.”
Joel let out an excruciatingly long sigh as he ducked his head further into the depths of his fridge, mumbling something about you being a piece of work.
“It’s water, or,” with a groan, he stood up from the fridge, “this bottle of wine. Probably old.” 
Old? The bottle looked nothing but. No dust, fresh label, barely chilled. You didn’t want to call out the poor man for trying to make tonight classy, but you knew Joel had purchased this bottle of wine for tonight. For you. 
If it were any other date or any other guy, you would have pushed his nose into it a bit. Teased them for caring and being so sweet. But this wasn’t any other guy, this was Joel. And if you ever tried to admit that you saw right through him, he would clam up for the rest of the evening out of his adorable bashfulness. So you let it be. For now. 
“Wine’s good.” You say casually with a little nod, trying to relax your cocky smile. Even when he turned around to fetch some old wine glasses inside the very top of a kitchen cabinet, you could tell he was satisfied with himself. Hiding a smile with his back turned. 
You pulled the bottle closer to read the label. You rolled it around in your hand, your thumb tracing the stamped lettering. Cherry wine. 
“Haven’t had a chance to eat all day, got us some pizzas,” Joel said as his head nodded to the side, following the direction to two pizzas still warm and in their cardboard box homes on the counter. 
“Can’t have a movie night without pizza.” Your voice cooed as you set down the wine to take a peak inside, seeing all of its cheesy glory. 
Joel topped off a singular wine glass, your head twisting curiously at just the one. He clinked your glass with his beer bottle, and you rolled your eyes. 
“Thanks.” You murmured, turning on your heel to grab your glass and one of the pizza boxes before walking it to his living room. 
You sat right in the middle of the couch, not giving Joel any excuse to sit too far away. 
“Scootch,” Joel said as he motioned with his beer bottle to make room on the couch. You made a little noise of disapproval toward him. 
“Mm-mm.” You shook your head.
“What?”
Your sneaker tapped the heel of his boot. 
“Take those off. You can’t relax during a movie still wearing work boots.” 
He looked a little perplexed before looking down at his boots. Probably forgot they were even on. They were practically his spare feet at this point. 
“Fine. You too.” He said as his steel toe gently nudged your sneakers in return. You softly nodded, both of you undoing your laces. Sitting on the couch arm, Joel worked to loosen one boot and then the other, hearing the methodical snap of the laces. You slip yours off with ease, picking them up by the upper heel collar and tossing them by the door. Joel just kicked his aside and sat down next to you with a thump into the cushion. 
“We’re watching Pride & Prejudice.” You commandeered the remote out of his hand, his eyebrow cocking to you in disbelief. 
“The hell is that?”
Disbelief tangled your facial expression. “You’ve never seen Pride & Prejudice?”
Joel’s cocked his head to the side, face sitting like stone. Really? 
“Do I look like the type’a guy that watches Pride & Prejudices?” 
You rolled your eyes and huffed. 
“It’s based on the novel by Jane Austen. About... literally so much. The independence of women. Societal norms relating to gender and marriage. Any of this ring a bell?” 
“I know Sarah likes it. That’s about it.” Your smile quips up as you click play. “Perfect.” 
“Do we have to?” His annoyance held no restraint. 
“This movie night is to get back into my good graces, is it not?” You asked as your body leaned away, getting a good look at him. 
Through tight lips, he held back a smile before nodding a little and turning to the opening credits. “Yes, ma’am.” 
It didn’t take long for Joel’s arm to settle around your shoulders, bringing your body into his side. His thumb was stroking the hoodie you wore, his hoodie. 
In his close proximity once again, your senses pick up on his now all too familiar scent; Woody, minty, a little bit of citrus from his body wash. He smelled good, you wonder if he wore cologne tonight or if this was his natural musk. You wouldn’t put it past Joel to naturally smell this good. He was good at a lot of things without even trying. 
A few slices of pizza and two glasses of wine later, you started to feel the weight of Joel’s unbearably heavy arm. You released yourself from him and opted to turn and rest your side against the back of the couch cushions, putting your legs in his lap. 
You hadn’t been watching the movie for the last twenty minutes. Couldn’t stop trying to subtly look at how handsome Joel looked in the flicker of the television’s light from your peripheral. You couldn’t help it. He looked so big and hot, like a lumberjack, his stupid build alone making you fold. 
You bite at the inside of your cheek as Joel’s large and warm palm gently make slow strokes up and down your calf. Your body was trying not to twitch. Your heart was thrumming in your throat. You glanced up at him again, his eyes lasered in on the television. 
“Why’d he…” Joel’s voice trailed off, bringing your attention back to the screen. 
Your eyelashes fluttered, your brain trying to get you out of Joel Fantasy World and back into the film. “Hm? What?” 
“Why’d his hand cramp like that? Why’d they film that part?” Without intention, Joel’s curiosity was evident in his question. It immediately made you smile as you watched the television again, your body slumping into his side. 
“It’s not a hand cramp, he’s flexing it. It’s the film’s interpretation of his like… emotional turmoil and struggle. His feelings are evolving for Elizabeth, though he’s trying to appear all aloof and distant towards her. But their physical connection, he can’t really hide it, y’know? He can’t hide how he feels. So he flexes his hand because he’s affected by her presence and her touch. He can’t help it.” 
Joel’s hanging onto every word you say. You’re not so sure if he’s interested in the film as much as he is in hearing you talk about it. The hand that was messing around on your calf was now trailing higher up your thigh. And flexing the higher it climbed.
Your eyes looked from his amber ones to his lips, your heart racing faster in your chest. With one hand still clutching your wine glass, you managed to swing one leg over his lap to straddle him. You folded first. You couldn’t take Joel’s achingly slow touches. 
His enjoyment was obvious in his movements, his calloused hands slowly pushing up your thighs until they landed on the security of your waist. He was gripping the hoodie in his fists, observing your silhouette. 
“This mine, too.” It wasn’t a question, he was pointing it out to you. Joel giving you his own clothes to wear was by no mistake. It was a way of marking what was his, even if it was just in his mind. 
“Mine now.” Your words were whispered, leaning down and kissing at the hook of his jawline. 
“Like you in it. Wear it a hell’uva lot better than I do.” The shift in his voice was clear, huskier, and a little touch drunk. The film’s volume seemed softer now, playing as white noise and falling abandoned. 
His words made your stomach flip, your teeth purposely grazing against his skin. The motion made his hands trail down lower to the globes of your ass, humbly squeezing the flesh with the spans of his palms. A weak moan left your lips against his ear as he planted kisses on the inner side of your neck and on your shoulder. He was so fuckin’ greedy for you. 
“Joel,” you whispered between kisses along his jawline, lips coming up to his chin as one of your hands gently cupped the side of his neck while the other clutched your wine glass for dear life. 
As soon as your lips came close to his, you faltered. And Joel could tell. 
Suddenly both of your eyes were open, soft, and holding contact. Your lips parted, but nothing came out. The only thing that actually came from you was a little sigh of disappointment, your eyes shyly flitting away. 
Joel could sense the shift, his hand coming to gently cup your cheek and bring your eyes back to his. He didn’t look mad like you maybe expected of him. 
You could feel his jaw going slack under your thumb, your mouth sucking in the side of your cheek as you sat in awkward silence. You sort of wanted to leap out of his lap and return to the movie. But he wouldn’t let you, he planted you there with his hand on your hip and forced you to look at him. You teetered your wine glass on his shoulder. 
“You wanna kiss me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, causing a few syllables to be cut out due to the raspiness. You slowly nod. A beat passes. “Why won’t ya let me then?”
This was Joel’s second or so attempt to kiss you. The first time was on the tailgate of his truck, you didn’t even think about letting him kiss you in his woodshed. 
You weren’t trying to remain mysterious or aloof, something he managed to do so naturally. You shifted in his lap uncomfortably, your eyes drifting to the window behind his head and watching the water shift in the black of night. 
“It’s not that deep, Joel. Just don’t want anyone to get attached.” You shrug and shake your head. “I don’t know, who cares?” 
“I care.” Even blasted on movie pizza and beers, he was as quick as a whip. His care wasn’t soft, it was strong. He cared like a fiercely loyal shield. 
You exhaled a deep sigh, your chest reflecting your breath as he slowly brought you back to him.
“I’m scared that I’ll like it.” The movie’s distant volume was comforting white noise to your nerve-wracked conversation with Joel. This was perhaps the most you’ve talked with him in one sitting. And about something so deeply personal, too. 
He took in what you said, slowly beginning to shake his head as his hand cupped more seriously against your jawline. 
“”t’s just a kiss.” His tone was seductive, sincere. Whispering like no one else in the world could hear. “Kiss me.”
You didn’t feel pressured, Joel was looking at you like he genuinely cared about what you had to say. About the movie, about the kissing. He bought you wine, he got pizzas, and he’s suffering through a period drama to sit beside you on his couch. Damn you, Joel Miller. 
You felt your body relax into his again, no longer cold and rigid. Your bodies meshed as you fell into the front of his chest, your hand on his neck moving up to cup his jaw. You tilted up his face and received no resistance. Just kiss him. 
You met his lips, soft and sweet, delicate and gentle. Your hand slipped from his jaw and landed absentmindedly on his chest, feeling his thumping heartbeat against your palm. 
You didn’t pull away. It was impossible. 
He tasted like mint and whiskey, with hints of residual smoke from a cigarette earlier in the day. You wouldn’t know he smoked unless you were tasting him like you were right now. 
Joel was encouraging something out of you, deep and primal, as you let the kiss deepen. He took the lead with a heady mix of softness and urgency. 
He set a scorching fire between your legs, purely drunk on his lips alone. It sent a shiver down your spine how intense this stone-like man could be. Your mouths moved with desire and rhythm, feeling an electric spark that sent your senses ablaze. 
Goosebumps had sprinkled across the skin of your arms, your once soft hand on his jaw now clutching him there and tugging lightly at his curly tendrils. You weren’t letting him go. 
Your sounds filled the room, hot and wet kisses punching the air from both of your lungs. 
A breath was shared, your forehead on his as both of your chests rose and fell together.
His eyes caught yours. More?
You gently nod. Please. 
He was back with you in a hot heat, both of you wanting, no, needing more of one another. 
He balanced a tantalizing fusion of passion and longing, a magnetic pull that had you grinding your hips down into his lap. 
The world around you faded into a blur as you felt his tongue glide across your lower lip, asking permission. Your lips easily parted, tongues dancing and melting, your hands shaking a bit in excitement. 
Joel was consuming you. His tongue marking his territory as he explored your mouth before kissing you heatedly once more. You realized that the kiss wasn’t an exploration of feelings at all, Joel wanted to languish in your taste, stake out the claim of your mouth. Taste and territory. 
 A low grunt left the depths of his throat as your hips ground over him with desperation now. You could feel his dick swelling against your ass. 
Your lips quirked up in a smirk against his, you liked that you could feel his facial expressions, and he, yours. 
Without thinking, you went to cup his face in both hands, your wine glass dropping onto Joel’s chest, and what little wine you had left was splashing his denim button-up red. He didn’t even notice. 
“Joel--, wait,” you were breathless as you pulled away, his lips moving to the open expanse of your neck instead, his arms tight around your lower back. He could care less about his shirt, or the wine, or the spare glass rolling around between your stomachs. 
You laughed breathlessly, closing your eyes as you kept your chests apart, careful not to get wine on his favorite sweatshirt next. Your head fell back, your hair fanning out as you grinned at the ceiling. 
“Joel, your shirt is stained.” You tried to point out, both of your hands clamped onto his shoulders weakly to keep him at a distance. But his lust-filled lips had a taste of you that he couldn’t replace. His teeth grazed the soft skin of your neck, wincing lightly as you let out a broken little whimper. 
“Don’t care.”
Oh my god. Fuck. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, desperate for more, but you weren’t going to let him stain one of maybe three decent shirts he owned. And with wine, you had to be fast acting. 
“Come on,” you said weakly, not even convinced yourself to break away.  “Joel, your shirt-”
“Don’t. Care.” He growled through gritted teeth, eyes hungry as you felt him lick a hot, slow stripe up your neck to your jaw. Fuck, he felt so good. 
Despite his clear lack of empathy for his shirt, you felt bad because it was your spill, your accident to try and make up to him. 
You rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head. He didn’t stop until you planted both palms against his pecs and pushed him back with little force, watching as he fell into the cushions with a lazy smirk on his face as he looked over you. Joel was drunk off your kiss. 
You found your footing on the hardwood floors, grabbing his hands and attempting to pull him up and off the couch. He playfully resisted, just kept sitting there as you weakly tried again. 
“Stop bein’ such a dick.” You huffed. His laugh filled the room, nearly startling you. It was always quite the opportunity to hear him laugh so big like that. 
“Couldn’t pull me up no matter how hard ya try.” 
“Shut up. Stand up.” You ordered with little follow-through from Joel.
He yanked his hands from yours and planted his palms onto the tops of his thighs, pushing himself off the couch and following you aimlessly to his master bathroom. 
“Do you have some hydrogen peroxide? Dishwasher detergent?”
He stayed silent but looked at you quizzically. You rolled your eyes and started looking through different cabinets. 
“Baking soda?” Cocking your head to him, he nods and disappears before returning to you with the little orange Arm & Hammer cardboard box. 
You cleared your throat and looked at him expectantly. 
“Joel, I can’t clean the shirt with you wearing it. Take it off.”
As soon as the words left your mouth, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see his lips upturned in a cocky smirk. Sometimes you just wanted to smack it clean off his face. 
Fine. With a sense of ferocity, you began to take him down button by button. He lets you. He even steps closer to your body, and you try not to get distracted by him. 
“I don’t wanna be the one that messes up your nice shirts.” You murmur. 
“t’s fine.” He cups your cheek again and tries to divert your attention once more. He’s not even actively trying to kiss you, he just wants to get a rise out of you now. You’re trying not to smile at him in the reflection of his bathroom mirror. Your elbow jabs into his bare abdomen after you’ve peeled the wet material from his torso. 
“Quit it.”
“Quit what?” 
Forcing yourself to turn away from him wasn’t enough. Now he’s behind you planting kisses down the side of your neck with his hands on your waist and toying with the hem of your sweatshirt.
You had to admit being on his lap like that got you hot and bothered to the tenth degree. Now you were nursing a stained shirt and the ache in your core. 
“‘lright, fine.” Oh, thank god. You could breathe again. You were this close to caving, and caving to Joel was a losing game. 
He found a towel and wiped at his chest and torso while you blotted away with a paper towel the excess wine in his shirt. After getting out what you could, you sprinkled the baking soda over the little splashes of red and added a few drops of water to make somewhat of a paste. Now you just had to wait for it to dry and toss it in the laundry. 
You hoped you didn’t ruin the denim shirt, you quite liked how he looked in it. The blue denim complimented the soft silver in his curls, and the cuffs rolled up accentuated his biceps.
Speaking of biceps. Your eyes innocently watched him move around the bathroom shirtless. He was somewhat toned, a handsome mix of dad bod and muscle. Like a sexy lumberjack. He was big and broad, wide in the shoulders and smaller in the waist. With all the summer log chopping, his biceps were toned.  
A shaky breath left your mouth, his eyes catching yours in the mirror before you quickly looked away, washing your hands of the baking soda paste you had made. 
“It’s uh… It’s good now. Just let it dry and put it in the washer. Alone. Without anything else in there.” You quickly nodded, over-clarifying again. You braved looking at him again in the mirror. Mistake. A smug little smile that beat up your guts was laced on his lips. 
Your hand was quick to reach for the door handle, but his hand was already on your other wrist and pulling you into his front. 
“Get back here,” Your name drips off his lips, and it’s drenched in lust. 
Fuck it. 
Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck, feeling his raised trap muscles under your forearms as your lips reunite with Joel’s. 
Getting that first kiss between you two out of the way was a blessing in disguise because now you knew him. You were acquainted with his lips. You liked his taste, you liked how soft he was, you liked the stubble of his beard, and you liked the way his warm palms were on you as soon as you entered his space. He embraced every inch of you, his kisses were feverish, and they left your mind in a tailspin. No one had ever kissed you like this before. 
You ducked your head down before he could stop you, kissing over his wine-spoiled chest. You kissed lower and lower before licking a slow stripe up his sternum, tasting residual cherry and sweetness from the wine. 
Your lips parted as you looked in the mirror, realizing now that he had pinned both your wrists behind your back and planted them at your tailbone. 
Your doe eyes innocently looked up at him, his face masked in desire and an appetite for you. 
“Get on your knees.” 
A breath hitched in your throat, your eyes trying to focus as you looked over Joel’s face. Your eyes fluttered down to his biceps, strong and defined with veins lining like rivers coursing along the curves as they held your wrists back. You didn’t hesitate to drop down to your knees. 
He had let go of your wrists, so you brought your hands up to undo the button of his jeans, but he tsk-ed you. 
“But I-”
“But nothing. Put your hands behind your back again.” You pouted but obeyed. You wanted to touch him. 
Your lips parted as you watched Joel pop open the button of his jeans, his thumbs lining the hem of his jeans and boxers at his hips before pushing them down to his thick thighs. His cock was already half-hard from when you were grinding on him back on the couch. 
Your breaths grew heavier, you couldn’t manage to stay in his hoodie. You peeled the heavy navy sweatshirt off, leaving you in nothing underneath, which earned sweet praise from Joel as soon as you laced your hands once more behind your back.
“So fuckin’ pretty.. Look at you.” He lightly leaned over and cupped one of your tits, massaging it in the heart of his palm and rolling your taut nipple around with his thumb. A quiet whine was elicited from your throat, face crumbling as your hands fought hard not to release themselves behind your back. 
You wanted to touch him, cup his face, hold his thighs, wrap your hand around his dick that was flush against his stomach. 
A harsher tug to your nipple left you moaning, watching as he leaned down and let a long, long dribble of spit connect from his lips down onto your chest. Your head fell back at the cool sensation, feeling it aid the heat of your breasts. 
He stood up tall again, broad and towering, as you glanced over to the mirror. The dynamic was almost charming. You on your knees for Joel, his blushing cock swelling against his happy trail. He was so handsome, so greedy. 
Without thinking, you released your hands from around your back and moved to steady yourself on his thighs. 
“Not gonna tell you again, pretty girl.” You paused and looked to Joel. “No usin’ your hands tonight. Just that dirty mouth a’yours.” His accent was drenched with lust, dripping like syrup. 
You whined as you assumed your position with your hands away, not knowing what to expect if you tried to use them again. 
You attempted to crawl closer to him, your knees practically between his slightly parted legs. 
You kissed up his inner thigh, grinning lightly at the slight taste of his sweat. Your tongue kitten licked at his balls, hearing him seethe in a breath through gritted teeth. Sensitive, a little wrinkled, lightly groomed just for you. It made you smirk that he cared enough to trim. 
You tested the waters, letting your warm mouth coat him in saliva, going from one ball to the other until they were both practically dripping. His cock was twitching for your attention, but Joel was above begging and groveling. For now. 
With devilish eyes, you looked up to him as you suckled one of his balls. He didn’t stop you, just cursed a little under his breath as his chest moved faster. You picked up the suckling from him when he nursed your sensitive, throbbing clit between his teeth and tongue. Now, it was your turn to repay the favor. 
Your lips released him with a pop, and you watched as Joel let out a breath he was holding in. His hand loosely fisted your hair in a loose ponytail atop your head, a little moan leaving your mouth as your scalp tingled with his tug. 
Your eyes closed as you worked over the other ball, suckling and licking and doing it all just to watch his cock grow angrier and more jealous of the attention. Your own spit was falling down your lips and chin, coating your breasts in a glistening sheen. 
Working without your hands, you used your core to balance yourself against Joel. Your knees dug uncomfortably into the floor. He liked watching you work to suck him off. 
You had to look to Joel for assistance, his shaft so hardened now against his stomach that you couldn’t reach. You sat up as straight as you could, Joel smirking down at you and watching you struggle for a few brief moments. “Come ‘ere, pretty girl.” He used the free hand not tangled in your locks to guide his tip down to your open mouth, your lips wrapping loosely around the head.
You made the mistake of releasing him out of habit, whimpering as your knees scrambled on cold tile to get him back to the warmth of your mouth. He opted to help you again, guiding his tip onto your red, wine-stained tongue. 
This time, you learned not to release him. Your tongue salivated his tip, swollen and sensitive. You could tell by how tight Joel clutched your hair and nearly pulled you off. 
You smirked lazily around him as you took him deeper, your watery eyes on his as you interlocked your fingers by your tailbone. 
You were slow at first, little nods back and forth, up and down his shaft. You blinked through any residual tears, slicking him up with your spit and proceeding farther down his shaft. You clenched your eyes closed and choked lightly as you took him to his base, a low groan of praise leaving Joel as his thumb stroked up your cheekbone. 
“Fuck me, so fuckin’ good for me, darlin’.” His words were broken by his rasp, but the praise sent you into overdrive. 
You bobbed your head at a good pace, Joel guiding you by your hair up and down his shaft, slicked by excess saliva that was dripping onto your tits and your stomach. You had to take a breath, but you learned from earlier. Your head came to rest against his thigh, head foggy as his tip sat plump against your cheek. You looked at the two of you in the mirror, and it was quite a sight. 
Joel’s body was planted by his heels, his toned torso and biceps protruding with hints of sweat. You had black-smudged tears on your waterline, and your face was filled with warmth. Your hair was a mess, Joel gently stroking it back from your sweat-glistened forehead as you breathed through your nose. You liked watching you work in the mirror. Watching him get ruined in the mirror. Watching yourself get ruined in the mirror. 
You started your rhythm again, this time your eyes locked loosely on the mirror in your peripheral. Joel’s cock made you choke each time you took him deep, but you didn’t let it stop you. He was so close, you had the heady taste of his precum on your tongue. He liked it messy. 
“Fuck- can’t,” Joel let out a rugged moan, it felt like it vibrated the tiles under your aching knees. Your wrists were throbbing from keeping your arms back, hands clenched together tight as you followed his rules. “Can’t hold on when you take me so-- so goddamn good.”
You whimper-whined against his cock, hollowing your cheeks as you moved with intent up and down his shaft. You opted just to take what you easily could now, focused on keeping the pace and working towards his orgasm. You thought about Joel fucking your mouth, but he wanted you to feel some sense of control since you had your hands back. Maybe you wanted to lose all control. If it was Joel you were losing it with. 
Joel was close, he couldn’t hold back how messy he had gotten. He had a steel-tight grip on your hair, and his breaths were laced with broken moans and grunts of your name. He kept wiping away any tears that slipped past your eyes and onto your cheeks, despite being devastatingly close to an orgasm you knew he was drunk on. 
“Yeah, fuck me,” He murmured under his breath, his cock twitching deep in your throat now. “Take me so well... The fuckin’ best, babygirl.” The best. 
You watched through blurry, head-dizzy vision as Joel’s ab muscles contorted. “Gonna cum, baby, stay with me.” He panted, eyes locking on yours as you nodded on his shaft and continued your sweet rhythm. 
You whimpered as his tip pulsed against your tongue, going down on him as deep as you could and clenching your eyes closed, waiting for Joel’s impending climax. And he kept you there as he painted your throat white. 
His cum came out in hot ropes, moaning lowly against his shaft as you focused on tasting him and breathing through your nose. He was salty, little beads landing in the back of your throat as you swallowed around him. 
Joel’s moans were glorious, breathy, and aching to say your name. His eyes had fallen closed, his stance still tall and broad. You wanted to touch him, kiss him. You decided to lay your head against his thigh, still breathing around his dick as you watched yourself in satisfaction through his mirror. 
“Fuck,” he murmured low, pulling you off of him with a pop. Your jaw lightly throbbed, but god, you felt like you were in the clouds. 
“Hands?” Your raw voice whimpered. He gave a silent nod of approval, and with his permission, you released your interlocked hands and lightly toppled back on your ass, leaning against the door to his linen closet. 
Joel observed you for a few moments, making sure you were okay before he grabbed a spare washcloth and ran some lukewarm water over it. Your eyes peeked open when you heard his zipper go up on his jeans, seeing he had straightened out his bottom half. 
You tried to focus your vision, seeing him squat down beside you and lightly press the cold washcloth to your temple, cheeks, and up your neck. It helped, you were settled, safe, and with Joel.
“Holy fuck.” You finally said once you had come down from your high. Your eyes met Joel’s, seeing both of your mouths were quirked up in lopsided smiles. 
“Too much?” He asked, the washcloth now delicately cleaning up the saliva on your breasts. 
You slowly shook your head. No, never too much. Just new. 
You looked around, feeling an ache in your knees and in your wrists. You rolled your wrists in circles to relieve some pressure on the joints before you pushed your palms up and down your kneecaps gently.
“Hey,” Joel’s words caught your attention, turning to him as he lightly cupped your cheek. “You were fuckin’ perfect, darlin’.” A weak mewl left you, a tired smile on your lips. 
“You said the best.” 
“Was perfect. Was the best. Did a perfect job.” His praise punched excitement through your veins, regaining your strength to stand back up with Joel’s honorable assistance. You murmur a thanks before you make a grab for Joel’s hoodie. As if he was going to steal it back from you. 
Joel excused himself to go clean up the kitchen, leaving an attentive kiss on your cheek before he left you alone. 
You took a few minutes to rinse some water around in your mouth and try to brush your fingers through your knotted, matted hair. 
“Need to get yourself a brush, Mr. Miller.” You murmur as you pass him in the kitchen, seeing he pulled on a new t-shirt and that he had put some of the leftover pizza in spare Tupperware containers. 
“Can’t eat it all by myself, and Sarah won’t be home for a few more days.” 
You narrowed your eyes at him. He could so totally finish that pizza if he wanted to. He could do it tonight as soon as you leave. 
Reading your mind, he shoved the container into your hands. “Just-- fuckin’ take it, why you gotta make things so damn difficult.” 
You smirked and patted the container softly. “My specialty. Irritating old grouchy men.” 
He rolled his eyes and shook his head at you, picking up the wine bottle next and figuring out what to do with it. Your eyes softened, watching the gears turn in his head for how he was going to handle this situation. 
“Do you care if I take the rest of it home, actually? I know it’s yours, and it’s been yours for a while, but it was really good.” Lame excuse. Joel leaned into it though, nonetheless. You were at Joel’s side now, looking to him with gentle eyes and a tender smile. He teetered on his feet for a moment before he nodded and handed it over. 
“Yeah, you’re doin’ me a favor so it doesn’t just keep sittin’ in the fridge.” 
You nodded softly and tried to jam the cork back in as well as you could, Joel swiftly taking the bottle from you and popping it back into its home with ease due to his sheer strength. 
You turned to the television and huffed, seeing the credits of Pride & Prejudice roll. Dammit.  
Joel joined you at your side, crossing his arms and giving the television a once over. “So did they, y’know, end up together?” There was Joel’s pure curiosity again. This time, he didn’t hide it so well. 
“Guess you’ll have to watch to find out. Don’t forget to throw that shirt in the washer.” You said with a cocky grin, holding up the wine bottle and pizza leftovers in gratitude before walking to the door. Joel followed you out, and you looked at him curiously. 
“Gotta make sure you get home safe.” 
Your head rolled to the side, watching as he shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “What?”
“Joel, I’m staying right next door. You could see me go inside from your living room window.” 
He just shook his head and looked beyond you to the water. 
“t’s dark.” 
Your chest fluttered with warmth, a smile on your lips growing past one you could deny. Let him have this one. 
“Thanks, Joel. Thanks for the pizza and the wine and… stuff.” Now it was his turn to let you have this one. The stuff. The kiss. The multiple kisses. He didn’t make it a big deal, just rolled with the punches. You appreciated it. 
You wanted to know what was next for the two of you. The feeling of your cores grazing one another set a fire in you that only Joel could put out. 
You pondered whether or not to kiss him goodnight and find a lame excuse to try and thank him again for the wine bottle when you saw two pairs of headlights coming down the road. 
“Shit,” you murmured under your breath, looking to Joel with a pained expression. He looked disappointed. 
You didn’t say goodnight, you didn’t kiss him before you left, you just… left. You moved down Joel’s rickety wooden porch steps with haste, sneaking into the lakehouse through the garage door as your heart thrummed at a face pace. You felt like a child getting caught by your parents. 
You didn’t know what to do with Joel’s pizza container and the wine. You could figure out an excuse for the pizza later, so you shoved it into the fridge, but definitely not the half-drank bottle of red wine. You double-checked that the cork was in there tight, and of course it was because Joel pushed it back in, but you couldn’t help but check because it was going to be stowed under your bed for safekeeping. 
You changed out of Joel’s hoodie and into an oversized band tee, walking out of your bedroom with a book when your parents returned through the door. 
“Hey, kiddo. You’re still up? ‘t’s past eleven.” 
You try not to roll your eyes, biting down on the inside of your lip as you tightly nodded. “Yeah, I know. I stay up late a lot at school and stuff, working on papers or out with friends. Staying up past eleven isn’t that weird for me.” 
You didn’t mean for there to be so much venom in your comment, but you weren’t a baby. Nearly every day at the lakehouse so far this summer has elicited a few don’t call me kid, I’m an adult, I make adult decisions, comments from you. 
Your parents looked too tired to care, which somehow stung worse. 
“Okay, sweetie, we’ll see you tomorrow morning. Your dad and I are headin’ to bed.” 
Now you felt bad. You pursed your lips and nodded, putting your hands behind your back and resting them on your tailbone absentmindedly. This was the same pose Joel had you in tonight. You already wanted to go back there. 
“Sorry, goodnight.” You whisper, seeing your dad give you a tired smile before patting your shoulder. 
“Hey kiddo-” He paused at the nickname and took a breath. “Sorry.” You playfully smiled and shook your head. Go on.
“Do me a favor, grab the steaks out from the freezer and put them on a plate in the fridge. Wanna have Joel and Sarah over for dinner tomorrow night. Feel like I haven’t seen them all summer.” 
Your face went ghastly blank, feeling yourself fall hollow like a collapsing building. If it weren’t for how tired your dad was, he would have seen right through you like a ghost. “You- Oh, you want to have them come by for dinner? I don’t think tomorrow’s gonna work. Sarah’s camping and-”
“Oh, well, Joel can still swing by for dinner. Need to eat up those steaks. Every time I open the freezer, they stare at me. They’re beggin’ me to eat them, it ain’t fair.” 
You forced out a laugh, but of course, your father couldn’t tell. Just thought he made one hell of a zinger. 
“So-So Joel over for dinner tomorrow night?”
“Yeah, kiddo. And don’t forget to take out the steaks. Love you.” He turned the corner down the hall, and then he was gone. 
You sighed and lightly chewed at the skin around your thumbnail. Great. One big happy family dinner. And Joel. 
---
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(idk why so many of my tags aren't working. Might make a notifications blog instead where you'd follow it and turn the notifications on and I'll only reblog my work on that account. ugh a problem for another day, okay ily ttyl I'm gonna go watch twilight)
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yesimwriting · 3 months
Note
I feel like the reader in best friend!Felix is actually really smart, heck, let's say genius even, but is really oblivious when it comes to sentiment. The reader gives off nerd vibes, but they're so smart to the point it's a cool kinda thing. And if this was before Felix met Oliver, I feel like reader, like Farleigh, would get bad vibes from Ollie too but would be too shy? I guess, to say anything cause hey, they're new and stuff. I like the fic:) It's nice to read something like that, without the explicit content, I mean:D
A/n: omg love this,, definitely doing a bestfriend!felix blurb on this concept later, i just wanted to explore character dynamics for a second lol
fun fact: i originally pictured bestfriend!reader as a literal genius with -3 street smarts, it's just info that didn't make it into the fic!!
also i could see reader as being so smart they skipped a grade (if we want to add to the power/social imbalance by making reader a little younger, but not like weirdly younger) open to thoughts on this !
i picture bestfriend!reader as having an elle woods quality to their intelligence in terms of awareness (and maybe aesthetic, it is the early 2000's lol),, reiterating the most complicated parts of a lecture perfectly during a study session while half focused on applying lip gloss, aces exams while hungover (bc felix insisted on going out), and never registers how impressive all of it is
very much "what? like it's hard" but as literal as that statement could be
which could add to reader's shyness/uncertainty bc she forgets she's a little intimidating
okay but the potential of reader getting bad vibes from oliver if she became close friends with felix a little after oliver did?? too good
reader doesn't want to alienate oliver, he's the only one around felix that's also an outsider, that should make it easier to bond
but!! because reader is that smart, she has this gut feeling that tells her to keep him at arm's length,, but bc she's not the best at picking up on feelings, it's basically just that 6th sense thing that girls have that tells them when a guy has weird/unsafe intentions
bc reader can't articulate their concern, or understand it, they try to be nice, but oliver can tell that there's this distrust there
it drives him crazy
first of all, reader should be the easiest one to win over bc she's not one of the elites and she's a little awkward from time to time, it's frustrating that there doesn't seem to be a crux for him to use to weasel his way into reader's heart
oliver's aware that he can get close to felix without the others liking him as long as they tolerate him enough in public, but with reader, oliver knows more about felix's real feelings for them than felix does
that adds this timing element to the situation that’s stressful, because as soon as felix realizes how he feels about the reader, that will be that
meanwhile, reader is a little worried about being dropped bc of the tension between her and oliver, but oliver doesn’t fully notice that, he’s too distracted by his feelings
it's not fair, oliver "had" felix first, but oliver's perfectly capable of adapting to the situation, so he accepts it and looks at it practically
oliver knows that there is no fully "in" with felix unless you like him, so despite any resentment and jealousy he feels towards you, he decides that he'll do whatever it takes to get it
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arlestial · 6 months
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hi, could i please request nagi, isagi, bachira and chigiri when they forgot a date and accidentally stood up their s/o?
❝Break me like a promise❞
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synopsis : Life is sometimes difficult, keeping them busy and away from you; until it turned to take you away from them.
pairing : Nagi Seishiro, Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock
tw : angst
word count : 2000 words
author-note : Hi !! As I said before, I’ve never been aware of my requests in my ask-box so here I am writing them 1 year after they’ve been given 💀 Sorry for the long wait, hope you still like it :) Took me a lot of time to write for my food wars ask so writing for this one was not my priority at first 😭 If you want a part 2, I’ll gladly do it 🫶🏻 I’ll do Chigiri in another post !! take care of yourself ♡
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ISAGI YOICHI was, once again, lost in his thoughts. Soccer was keeping him busier than he’d like admit, sometimes leading to ghosting you for one day or two - but it was rare, fortunately for you. He was the sweetest, really. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, calling you at random hours in the night “just to hear your voice”, murmuring sweet nothings with this tired, hoarse, yet, mesmerizing voice of his. And then, no news for 4 or 5 days, if you were lucky enough. Sometimes, you felt like you were too clingy, too lovey-dovey, but he immediately was shushing your words by peppered kisses on your face, between giggles and intertwined fingers. And then, no news for 5 or 7 days, if you were lucky enough. This has been going on for months, and you were slowly - and painfully - becoming tired of it. You decided to confront him, puzzled by his sudden change of behavior. Was it Blue Lock ? Or you ? Why was he so distant ? One night, you took your phone and called him, concerned, fidgeting with the hem of the oversized shirt he gave you last time he came home.
“Honey ? Hi. What’s up ?”
“Hi, Yoichi. You busy ?”
“’Need to sleep soon, we have a big training tomorrow. Why ?”
“Am I a burden to you, Yoichi ?”
Isagi frowned on the other side of the phone, looking at the screen, as if he was checking he was calling the right person.
“Wait what- you’re speaking nonsense, are you okay ?”
“I am. Do you still love me ?”
“Obviously. Why are you asking me this ? Did I do something bad ?” His voice broke a little, your heart tightening slightly.
“Yeah- I mean, no. It’s complicated. I feel like you’re avoiding me all the time. You’re here, and right after a call or a text, you’re disappearing, ghosting me afterwards. I legitimately don’t understand. Is it my fault ?”
“N-No, not at all ! Blue lock is just keeping me busy, love. You don’t need to worry.”
You don’t need to worry. You never have to worry with Isagi by your side. However, the time, you couldn’t help but feel a knot in your stomach. This weird sensation caused you to keep your mouth shut; and it was visibly concerning to the raven-haired boy.
“Love ? You’re still here ?”
“Y-Yeah, sorry. I’m just a little bit tired, that’s all. You don’t have to worry about me,”, you nervously chuckled, before murmuring a small “love you” like you always did before ending a call with your lover.
After some time overthinking your entire relationship, you decided to talk to him face to face; meaning you had to head out directly to Blue Lock buildings. The following morning, you woke-up rather early, rushing your usual routine to take a random bus, supposed to drive you to the famous quarters.
You felt the knot in your lower stomach again; sweetly palms grabbing your tote bag to keep it from falling, opening the doors of the building. You gulped as you made your way to the receptionist, asking her if you could see your boyfriend just for some minutes. She refused several times, visibly quite annoyed by your presence. After endless pleas, a woman with sort of chocolate-brown hair appeared, scolding the receptionist for “the lack of respect she showed”. She apologized and introduced herself, Anri Teieri, Jinpachi Ego’s assistant, co-director of the Blue Lock project, as she walked in the large corridors, gesturing you to follow her.
So, you did, eager to see your boyfriend, your steps and Anri's echoing on the bare walls. You finally arrived to the dorms, and Anri knocked on the door, making sure nobody was changing or something. When she was assured that the room was safe, she flashed you a smile and opened the door for you to enter. You immediatly spotted a surprised Isagi, turning his head to look at the person who entered their shared dorm. When you two made eye-contact, a huge smile appeared on his features, and he ran to you, engulfing your form with his strong arms.
"Y/N ?? Gosh, I'm so relieved to see you. I missed you so much." Several shared kisses later, Isagi promised to take you on a date the following day, saying he had Ego's permission to take a break from training. So, as he said, you waited in the restaurant he booked the day prior. Anxiety was beginning to fill your mind as you desperately stared at the front doors, hoping with your entire-being for your boyfriend to show-up. But he never did. After one hour and four pity glances from the waiters, you left, your heart heavy in your chest.
Little did you know, that Isagi was actually playing a training game against professional players. When his teammates had asked him to join them on the field, he had bit his lower lip, letting his thoughts wander between you and the human yet unreachable figures he always admired. With some sort of "fuck it, I'll deal with the consequences later" curse, he let go of his bag and hurried to the changing rooms, not realizing what decision he had just taken. But it was an occasion he couldn’t miss, right ?
And when you saw him on the screen of your phone, more precisely, with the Blue Lock broadcast channel, in his blue jersey, tossing the ball to Nagi, the knot in your stomach disapperead.
Giving way to a boiling anger. And a message on his phone, lying on the bench of the field,
10:49p.m. | y/n ♡ : guess you made your choice then.
NAGI SEISHIRO was a bit lazy. It was his personality; you loved him that way, and you weren’t going to plead him to change his lack of motivation for you. But when he refused again to go on a date with you, you had just enough. And sighing was not an option. Your arguments with him were quite rare, because Nagi always found a way to shut you up and apologize sincerely. But this time, it felt like he genuinely wasn’t understanding your point. For the nth time that night, you growled in frustration, your face in your hands. Nagi was lying on the bed, not even bothering to turn off his phone when you were talking to him. He kept humming quiet “mmh”, “yeah”, too busy with his new phone game to actually listen to you.
“Nagi, please ! I’m sick of it,”, you cursed under your breath, fists clenching in order to keep your boiling anger to yourself. You didn’t want to lash everything on him right now. “Can’t you just look at me when I’m talking to you ?”
He frowned; hearing his last name instead of the usual petname for him seemed to get him out of his thoughts.
“What ? I’m listening.”
“You’re not. You’re never listening. That’s the problem with you.”
He sighed, rolling his eyes. You crossed your arms, lifting an eyebrow, clearly not amused by his nonchalant attitude.
“Really now ? Hey, come here. I don’t know why you’re so annoying, I guess it was a long day fo-”
“The hell ?? I’m not- you are the fucking issue here, Nagi. You’re always refusing everything.. I can understand that you’d rather stay at home but at least, can you grant me some quality time ? Grant us some quality time ?”, you sharply said, trying to keep your tone as calm as possible, rubbing your temples. He turned off his phone, giving you a hard glare.
“You knew I wasn’t the romantic type of guy when you decided to date me. You did anyway, so why are you complaining ?”
“Because I don’t want to be constantly the second choice, for fucks sake ! I can deal with your hobbies, with your passions and all. I’m just asking for one moment with you without your phone, or your stupid videogames, or-”
“Okay okay, quit it, I get it. I’m sorry, baby.”, he slowly approached you, gently stroking your cheek. “I’ll make it up to you, ‘right ?”
With that, you both fell asleep cuddling. The next morning, you woke up to a cold bed; Seishiro must’ve left early in the morning with Reo to train, you thought. You stretched, used to his absence. But you were glad that he had promised you a date tonight, telling you to wait for him at home. So the day goes by, doing your own activites, a smile on your face as you wandered about what you were going to do with your boyfriend later.
But your smile quickly vanished when you saw Reo’s story on Instagram. Angry tears covering your eyes as you threw your phone on the mattress. You were sending texts to Nagi for 20 minutes now, asking him when was he going to arrive. And you discovered - much to your dismay - that he was hanging out with his Blue Lock friends, sat on a couch of what seemed to be an arcade. Apparently, he was going to enjoy a long night with his friends, considering the story caption, “stayin up all night w homies”.
4 or 5 hours later, Nagi entered your shared appartement with a yawn. He called for you through the kitchen, frowning when he noticed you weren’t answering. He quickly went to the bedroom, searching you everywhere.
And suddenly, it triggered something in him; he forgot. He forgot about you. Again.
BACHIRA MEGURU was clueless. Clumsy. It was the main issue in the relationship; sometimes, he’d act before thinking, or say things he’d regret some time later. It’d lead to arguments, sobs, quivering lips and broken sorry’s, foreheads against each other. As much as Bachira loved you, he was still the bubbly man who often forgot things. Usually, you’d have laughed, his brows furrowed until you gave him his wallet, now smiling and kissing your cheek with a thank you. It was funny, earning a chuckle from you here and there, right ? Until you were the forgotten thing waiting for him. You felt useless, insecurities eating you alive as you cursed them constantly. Looking at the calendar, a red line encircling a somewhat random date, your couple’s anniversary. Well, not so random. You prayed, over and over again, that he would remember about it. Bachira was hard to read when it came to inner feelings : you tried to drop some hints, hoping he’d reciprocate them in a kind of way.
3:21p.m. | y/n ♡ : hi, meg :) ready for tomorrow ?
- read at 3:24p.m.
3:25p.m. | meguru ♡ : hi !! for tomorrow ? wdym ?
- read at 3:26p.m.
3:28p.m. | y/n ♡ : uh
well that’s awkward
Nevermind
- read at 3:29p.m.
3:30p.m. | meguru ♡ : no wait ! Sorry, did I forgot something ?
sunshine I’m sorry :( was it important ?
Your stomach churned at the question. You bit your lip, taking a long breath.
- read at 3:33p.m.
3:34p.m. | y/n ♡ : no it wasn’t don’t worry
just an hair appointment :)
- read at 3:35p.m.
3:36p.m. | meguru ♡ : don’t forget to show me then !! I have a surprise for you too !! &lt;3
- read and liked at 3:39p.m. by y/n ♡
You felt your mood lighting up. He remembered ? Maybe he faked it from the beginning ? You smiled to yourself, now completely delusional; your brain was fully aware of it, but your heart kept hoping naively.
So when he showed up at your door the following day, you dressed up in your favorite clothes, ready to spend a day out with him. He greeted you with a hug, tilting his head to the side when he caressed your hair.
“You changed the color ?”, he questioned, perplexed.
“I canceled.”, you lied, a little too easily for your own taste, “It’d have been a waste of time, we have a lot of things today.”
“Not really, tho. It’s just a regular day, after all ! Isagi told me about a new restaurant he wanted to eat into. Want to join us ?”
“You.. Meguru, you don’t remember ?”
“About what ?”
He hummed; a smile displayed on his face . Yours quickly fade, your heart clenching. Oh. The pain was still here, even though you knew it from the very first start.
“Our anniversary. You don’t remember about our anniversary. Again.”
His smile faded at your words, faded at the sight of your wet cheeks. His mouth opened, trying to form words to express his sudden turmoil. You walked back inside your house, closing the door on a distraught Bachira. He tried to apologize. He really tried. He spammed your phone in calls, drowning you with apologies texts, but could you forget again his clumsiness ? Love is keeping a promise no matter what; and he broke it too many times for you to stay at his side.
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