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#i'm actually turning 30 tomorrow so... yeah
lw6-woso · 9 months
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Mama y papa (wonze x reader)
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(gif not mine)
being the youngest Barca player comes with it negatives and positives to say the least.
you signed up for Barca when you were just a few weeks away from turning 16 straight from the Barca academy, because you were still young and had other personal reasons the staff thought it would be best if you were lived with one of the girls. at first, the plan was for you to be placed with Alexia, however, plans changed and you were set to stay with Lucy and Keira who had also just joined Barca that season, so it was all new for the three of you with the new club and getting used to the new routine. over the first couple of months, the three of you bonded fast and had gotten into a routine fast, you helped both girls with learning Spanish, it was a slow process but they had gotten the basics down.
it was coming towards the end of your first season at Barca and the night before the champions league final and you were set to be in the starting 11 for the first time, you have obviously been subbed in for more matches than you would have thought but this was your first starting match and you were really nervous.
the three of you were sat eating some food and the girls had noticed how quiet you were but they didn't want to ask just yet.
you had finished eating and you were washing all the potts and Lucy was drying them since Keira had cooked.
"hey you okay you have been quiet tonight" Lucy said.
"yeah I'm fine," you said not looking at her.
"okay you know you can come to us" Lucy said and you nodded.
you finished the pots and went to sit on the couch next to Keira and Nala.
Keira kissed your head and you put it on her shoulder as Nala came and sat in your lap, and soon after Lucy followed sitting next to you.
we peacefully watch a movie when you whispered "I'm nervous about tomorrow"
"Hmm," Lucy said.
"I'm nervous about tomorrow I don't want to disappoint Jonaton and the girls," you said.
"oh, kid you won't you deserve this you have been such a good player I'm surprised you haven't started earlier this is your moment okay I promise you we will all be with you on that pitch" Lucy said and you nodded.
you continued to watch the movie and then once the credit scenes rolled on the screen you said good night to them both and went upstairs to bed hopefully getting a peaceful night's rest.
however, as the hours went by it was now 30 minutes after midnight and there was no sign of you getting any sleep.
you got out of bed and straight across the hall to Keira and Lucy's room and lightly knocked on the door.
there was a light, yes and you walked in to see Lucy somewhat awake and Keira fast asleep.
"what's the matter kids," Lucy asked.
"I can't sleep," you said and she patted the bed for you to come join. you joined in bed with her and she wrapped her arms around you.
"I'm sorry," you said.
"hey it's all good your allowed comfort and support" she said.
"but I'm 16 I should have to ask for comfort like a little kid" you whispered.
"16 or not doesn't matter," Lucy said.
"can i tell you somthing" you asked.
"im all ears" she said.
"ive always thought as you and Keira as my parent more than my actual once even though its been a year you have shown me more love than they ever have that why i never speak to them anymore and why i had to live with a team mate and not just my parents i asked to be placed with one of yous and I'm glad it was you two " you said and her grip on you tightened.
"i love you to" she said.
after talking for a while you fell asleep in Lucy's arms and all your nerves and feelings left your body.
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venusjaynie · 10 months
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wish you were sober
Pairing: College!Frat!Bucky x Fem!reader
summary: you've had a crush on your roommate, Bucky, for a while, and after rescuing him from a party while he's drunk for what feels like the 1000th time, you finally admit your feelings.
Content Warning: friends with feelings situation, sexual tension, strong language, pet-names (angel, baby etc.), alcoholism, drunk bucky, parties, angst, fluff, mentions of puking (no actual puking)
word count: 2k
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"C'mon, Angel, please come with us?" Bucky asks, tugging on your arm. You roll your eyes, yet a playful smile toys at your lips.
"I said no, Buck. If you wanna go, then go. No one's stopping you. But I'm not going. I don't wanna deal with a tequila drunk Bucky Barnes all night." You tell him, gently removing your hand from his grip. His face falls immediately.
"I promise I won't get drunk this time. I swear I-" He's cut of by a loud laugh from Sam.
"Bullshit! You know as well as I do that you won't last 10 minutes before you're wasted, Barnes." Sam says. You agree.
"See Bucky, even Sam agrees. I'm tired. I'm not going, and that's final." You tell him, defiantly. "And don't you have that biology exam tomorrow?"
"I already studied for that! If you don't wanna come that's fine, but I swear I won't get drunk." Bucky remarks, a pointed look on his face.
"Even if I'm not there?" You ask.
"Even if you aren't there." You eye him suspiciously, but believe him nonetheless.
"Have fun, call me if you need me, yeah?" Bucky nods in response. He looks deflated, but bids you goodbye with a kiss on the cheek which absolutely does not make you blush, despite Sam's insistence that it in fact, does.
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Turns out, you not going to the party was not final. After a few hours of you watching TV in the living room of you apartment, Bucky calls you, begging you to come and pick him up.
30 minutes and 3 rounds of shots, which you did not participate in, later, you're taking care of an extremely drunk Bucky. He smiling stupidly at you and is babbling about nonsense, while you try to coax him into the car.
"You'll never guess what Wanda said to Sharon-" He cuts off his own sentence with drunken laughter.
"Bucky- just get in- Jesus Christ, would you sit down and put the seatbelt on, please?" You say as you shove him into the car, being mindful of his head.
"And then-" He, again, interrupts himself with giggles. "And then Sam- he spilled an entire bottle of vodka right down Sharon's shirt! It was so fucking funny, babe. You shoulda- You shoulda been there!" He spirals off into another giggling fit as you finally get him into the car and he lets you buckle his seatbelt. You close the passenger door with a sigh and walk to your side of the car, sitting down and starting the vehicle.
The car ride is mainly silent, save for Bucky's occasional giggling or whining about something that gone down at the party. You stay silent, keeping your eyes on the road, and even in his drunken state, Bucky can tell he's fucked up.
He thinks for a moment, not wanting to anger you any further and make the situation worse.
"Angel?" He asks, somewhat quietly. You nod. "Are you mad at me?" He almost whispers.
You don't say anything.
"You're mad." It's a statement, yet he poses it as a question. He sounds so sad, you almost feel bad for him.
"And you're drunk." You say.
"What?! No I'm not!" He replies.
You sigh, before asking, "How much did you drink tonight?"
"Uh- I did, like, 3 rounds of, uh, tequila shots. I did the keg challenge- you know the one from Stranger Things-" You cut him off with an unimpressed look. He chuckles nervously, but continues. "That's irrelevant. I had, maybe, 2 cups of Jack and coke..." He trails off as you stop at a red light and turn to face him.
You sigh. "You promised, James." His eyes widen at the use of his first name, and he immediately knows he fucked up.
"I know I did. M'sorry. I just got carried away... again." He sends a resentful look in your direction. You turn away from him. The lights turn green and you continue the car ride to your house.
After a while, Bucky speaks up. "I-uh- I don't feel so good." He says, swallowing, hard.
"There's a bottle of water in the glove compartment. James, if you puke in my car I'm never speaking to you again. If you need me to pull over, tell me. We are not having another Fulton Street incident." You tell him, deadly serious. He takes the water from the glove compartment and sips it. Thankfully, he doesn't puke in the car, and you soon turn into the car parking area back on campus, which luckily, is close to the frat house you share with the boys and Nat.
Bucky gets out first, and stumbles and trips his way over to the path leading up to the house. Sighing, you do the same, minus the stumbling and falling, and make your way over to him. As you arrive at the front door of the house, you pull the key from your pocket, and the little keychain picture of you and Bucky clinks on the metal of the door handle as you open it.
Once inside the house, Bucky immediately goes to the kitchen. You take off your coat and shoes at the door, and follow him.
He's getting another beer from the fridge.
"Bucky, what the hell are you doing?" You whisper-shout.
"I'm getting a beer." He says, loudly.
"Lower your voice. Everyone else is sleeping." You say, almost irritated.
"Sorry, Angel." He giggles. He opens the beer and moves to take a swig of it, but you're faster than him in his drunken state and you manage to take the beer from him before he can consume anymore alcohol. "Hey!"
"You need to go to sleep, c'mon." You take his hand and practically drag him to his room, reminding him to keep quiet as you walk past the other bedrooms. When you reach Bucky's room, you go in to help him get ready, but he simply flops onto the bed and attempts to pull you with him.
"No, James, you need to get changed." He groans, but sits up anyway. You help him out of his clothes, and into a pair of plaid pyjama pants, but he refuses to wear a shirt.
"Alright, no shirt. Go brush your teeth. I'm gonna go back to my room, 'kay? Night, Bucky." You make a move to leave, but he grabs your hand before you can get very far.
"Don't go. Stay here tonight." He gives you his best puppy dog eyes, which he knows you can't say no to, and you roll your eyes, but sit down on the bed anyway. He grins cheekily before getting up to brush his teeth, not letting go of your hand and consequently dragging you in there with him. "There's a spare toothbrush in the cabinet." He mumbles, his toothbrush still in his mouth, and you reach over to grab the one he's talking about. As you're brushing your teeth, you catch Bucky's eye in the mirror. He's already looking at you, and before you look away he winks at you, grinning like the Cheshire cat. You can't help but laugh, and the faint tint of pink on your cheeks makes Bucky smirk and raise his eyebrows at you slightly. Even in his drunken state he notices those little things about you. He can't help it. He's infatuated by everything you do.
After brushing your teeth, you lightly pull at Bucky's arm to guide him to his bed, and he goes pliant at your touch. Before getting into bed, though, he goes to his wardrobe, albeit stumbling on his way, and pulls out one of his old jerseys for you.
"Here. You can't sleep in your clothes." You take it from him, thanking him, and you make a start to the bathroom until Bucky stops you. "Just change in here, angel. I think we've known each other long enough to get changed in the same room." He laughs as he says it, and you can't help but laugh too. You contemplate his offer for a moment, and then you remind yourself that he probably won't even remember this tomorrow morning, so you set the jersey on the bed and begin to undress yourself. You notice Bucky not-so-subtly watching you, so you clear your throat to get his attention.
"No peaking, pervy. Cover your eyes."
"Alright, alright. Don't get your panties in a twist." He uses his hands to cover his eyes, and you continue to get changed, and soon enough you notice that he's looking through the gaps in his fingers, but you don't bother to tell him you can see him, too tired to deal with that shit at 2am. You do your best to ignore his watchful eyes, but you can't, however, ignore the quiet intake of breath that comes from his direction when you take your shirt off, exposing your bra clad chest. Not wanting to encourage his ogling, you quickly slip the jersey over your head.
"Alright, you can look now." You tell him, and he removes his hands from his face and pulls back the covers of the bed, and you climb in beside him. You've slept in the same bed before, so being this close to Bucky shouldn't feel weird, but as you settle down in the bed and he shuffles closer to you, the feeling of his breath fanning on your neck, and the arm that's somehow circled your waist and pulled you into him all in the span of 10 seconds has you feeling slightly overwhelmed. You've had a crush on Bucky since you moved in with him and the others, which was a year ago. So being this close to him has turned the butterflies in your stomach that you feel when you're around him into a zoo enclosure of elephants and zebras and giraffes, and they're all chasing each other and causing your insides to flip around all over the place. It's fucking annoying. You're pulled out of your thoughts by Bucky's voice breaking the silence in the room.
"Thanks for tonight. Sorry you have to deal with this." His words are quiet, and you don't really know how to respond, because frankly, as much as you may complain about having to deal with Bucky when he's drunk, part of you doesn't mind taking care of him when he's like this.
"Don't worry about it. I'm your friend, it's kind've my job."
"Correction: you're my best friend." You giggle and he doesn't say anything else for a while, and you've closed your eyes, ready to sleep by the time he pipes up again.
"Angel? Can I tell you something?" You crack open one eye as he moves away from your back and turns you over by the hip in the process.
"Sure."
"I think you're really fucking pretty." He whispers it, and his face is inches from yours, and blood rushes to your cheeks while the elephants, zebras and giraffes in your stomach to backflips off the walls.
"You, uh, you shouldn't say shit like that when you're plastered."
"I know. But drunk words are sober thoughts. Isn't that what you told me that time I told Maddie I didn't like her when I was drunk and then she got all pissed at me and I blamed it on the alcohol?" You nodded at his question. "I really like you. Like, really."
"I really like you, too, but I don't wanna do this when you're drunk, so we'll talk about it in the morning, yeah?"
"Alright. Alcohol doesn't change how I feel about you, though." You smile at him, and he tilts his head up and kisses your forehead. "Night, babe."
"Goodnight, Bucky." You turn around again and his arm wraps around your waist as it did before, and he pulls you flush against him.
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The sound of Bucky's 8.30am alarm pulls you from your sleep. You slept well throughout the night, even though you ended up with a 6'2" hockey player lying half across you. When Bucky wakes up, though, he doesn't make a move to get off of you, and just makes his head more comfortable against your chest. You turn the lamp on beside his bed, and he groans, shutting his eyes even tighter and covering them with his arm, and you laugh at his actions.
"Don't laugh. I'm in pain." He says, dramatically.
"Oh, shut it. You're hung over. C'mon, lets get you some Tylenol and a coffee." He groans again as you try to sit up, and wraps both his arms around your waist to pull you back, and you're giggling at him again. "James, c'mon. It's 8.30. Your bio exam is in an hour and a half, and you need to be on campus in an hour to get signed in."
"Ugh, fine!" He rolls his eyes, but gets out of bed and goes to walk to the kitchen, and you stand up to follow him.
"Woah, don't get pissy with me. I'm not the one who thought it would be a good idea to get drunk the night before an exam."
"Shut up."
By the sounds of the conversation, it doesn't seem like Bucky remembers the confession he made last night, and you can't say you're surprised. The cuddling may have been an indicator that what he said was true, but the two of you have quite a touchy, almost flirtatious, friendship so it doesn't really confirm anything for you.
Bucky must notice that you seem lost in thought, and it's almost like he can read your mind.
"Hey, I remember what we talked about last night. We'll talk about it as soon as I get home, okay? Trust me, I wouldn't forget something like that." His words put you at ease slightly, and you nod, smiling. "And, for the record, I meant it. All of it."
You look up at him.
"Me too."
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this has been in my drafts for like 6 months ngl but anyways here you go <3
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achillean-knight · 6 months
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Woe, doodles be upon ye
HC's below the cut if you're absolutely interested in my Spiderverse Noir HC's + his world 👉👈
First the ones I agree with that I've seen a shit ton of people mention >:33
- He is a fatherly figure to Peni. I can imagine when they see each other again, she'd run to him and give him the biggest fucking hug ever. She experienced her Canon Event between ITSV and ATSV too, right? So I can see her needing comfort so badly, and the only ones she ever truly grew close to were Noir and Ham.
- He'd 10000/10 get along so well with Hobie. Along with Hobie legit mentioning his hatred for the AM, PM and fuckin NAZIS IN THE COMIC ,
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he'd be rambling so much with Noir about common interests and get along so well with him. Imagine he badazzles him in punk attire and based on this image:
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(I'll link where I found the image tomorrow when I'm on my laptop lol if I remember) but based on this image, he teaches Noir how to play the guitar and shit and OUYGG I WANNA SEE THEM INTERACT (they're my fave Spiderverse characters so 👉👈)
- OHOHOHO He loves the colour purple. So much. He can't see it, ofc but he has such a love for the colour that he sees any beautiful colour- or well, of what he can see of colours, and thinks every pretty colour is Purple.
- MJ see's Noir/Peter as a brother and he see's MJ as a sister in turn. There is no romantic attraction at all. Yeah, this means MJ see's Aunt May as a nice Aunt Figure she can go to and talk to about things.
Now onto some of my own headcanons- or some that I don't see mentioned a ton. These have probably been said before but oh well, these are just what I like and my brain go BRRR
- Felicia is taller then Noir. (For those unfamiliar, Felicia is a character from the comic.) Yes that'd probably make her freakishly tall based on how tall Noir is in the movie, but that comic panel of when he first meets her rots in my brain.
- Felicia still has her mask from her ordeals. However, unlike how she pushes away Peter, they actually become friends again. Comfort each other. They swore they'd never be in a relationship again.
- Noir is a combo of both his OG comics personality and 2020's comics personality. I see movie noir as anywhere between 19 - 21. He's learning and developing as a human still. He's calmer and kinder and resembles how his personality is in the newer comics, however, based on this deleted scene LOL, makes me think he looses his shit easily and goes actually feral.
(here's the link to where I found the video BC I actually saved the link lol yeah it's reblogged by yours truly, but the full post is there.)
- Oh yeah, Noir most definitely adopted Ding Ding btw. He probably is nearly at the newer comics stage of his life, being a private eye and such, drinking his fucking egg creams like newer comics noir SBSBBS So he found and adopted Ding Ding.
- Despite being young (19 - 21) he has serious eyebags man, dudes sleep deprived 😔 I'm also heavy on the Spiderverse portrait of him unmasked that I don't really draw/see him with facial scars but he could totally have them after the shit he went through 💀
- Noir is a part-time singer. I will not elaborate.
There's so many other things I wrote down that I want to share, but they're on my computer 😭 so you get these for now hhhh
Sorry if they're half-assed, it's 10:30 pm, I am tired
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nitewrighter · 5 months
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Can't wait to see your Mauga fanteractions!
Ahhh it's been a while since I've written dialogue for him! He really is a delight, though! And now he gets to join the whole roster!
---
Mauga: Hey, so I got a question.
Ramattra: *weary sigh* What is it?
Mauga: Why don't you stay as the big guy the whole time?
Ramattra: The capabilities of the nemesis form are not applicable to every combat situation.
Mauga: And you like the stick?
Ramattra: It's called the void accelerator, it's not a stick.
Mauga: See, I'm looking at it, and I'm seeing a stick. A stick with a ball, if I'm being generous.
Ramattra: *audible seething*
---
[During setup on attack in Circuit Royale]
Mauga: Oh, great, I love it when they have these things. Uh, yeah, could I get a hot towel service to our room, a wake-up call for 7:30 AM tomorrow, oh, and also, when's last call for the hotel bar?
Echo: Um--I'm--I'm not a concierge AI.
Mauga: Oh, sorry. *speaking more loudly* COULD I GET A LIVE SERVICE REPRESENTATIVE?
---
Baptiste: Mauga! You--um... you... look well.
Mauga: Thanks! I've been able to take some time, get my mind off of stuff, focus on me. I've thought a lot about forgiveness.
Baptiste: *skeptical* ...Forgiveness.
Mauga: Yeah, just the concept that forgiveness is actually really more about you than who you're forgiving, you know? Like just the willingness to let things go and let yourself move on so you can grow. I really like that.
Baptiste: *hesitant* I... like that too.
Mauga: *satisfied sigh and tongue click* Yeeup.
Baptiste: *still hesitant* Mm-hm.
*pause*
Mauga: I'm still definitely killing you after this mission, though. Just letting you know.
Baptiste: And there it is.
---
Mauga: Well, well, if it isn't the new model. I'm Mauga. We, uh, have a mutual friend.
LifeWeaver: So I've heard. Niran. Pleasure. I've heard a lot about you.
Mauga: Good things?
LifeWeaver: ...interesting things.
---
[During setup on Esperança]
Reaper: Why do you treat every mission like a vacation?
Mauga: Well, what's the point of going to all of these places if you aren't going to have a little fun?
Reaper: The mission. The mission is the point.
Mauga: Aw, come on, boss, don't be like that. Hey, you know what would cheer you up? I know the cutest little petisco bar here that would--
Reaper: FOOD TURNS TO ASH IN MY MOUTH.
Mauga: ...can you still drink?
---
[If Lifeweaver, Cassidy, and Mauga are all on the same team in set-up]
Baptiste: Hoo boy...
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Mauga: *gets a cage fight multikill* I'm not in here with you, YOU'RE IN HERE WITH ME!
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tange-my-rine · 10 days
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borrow some sugar || Tangerine × gn!reader
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Summary: You were living in the city, on your own. It was your dream though, you'd known it was far from home but you needed the space. Well, wanted the space. Didn't mean it wasn't lonely. The one time you actually met your neighbor, of course, you put your literal whole life in danger.
TW: blood, guns, murder, threats, cursing (it's Tangerine), protective!Tangerine (eventually), kidnapping, threats, and all things bullet train.
[[A/N: love a good normal person × Tangerine, and this is the epitome of that. Except you get way too wrapped up in it.]]
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"Yeah, I know," you echoed out, fetching your keys out of your pocket -mindlessly walking through the hallway, "-I'm always safe, you know that."
Pressing your phone onto your shoulder, you heard a sort of bang -a heavy thud really, on the wall.
You furrowed your brows, the neighbor on that side was usually quiet. Like unusually quiet. You'd seen him, maybe once or twice in the hallway -he'd never said a word to you. Always wearing a suit and a super serious face, you'd assumed he was some sort of corporate worker with insane hours.
"Look," you spoke, unlocking your handle, "-I have to go, but I'll call you back tomorrow. I'm home already."
Slipping into your apartment, you sighed, pushing your phone into your pocket, dropping your keys, and taking off your shoes by the door. With the familiar thrum of your fridge, you mindlessly wander up to your couch and drop your bag.
It had been a terrible day at work, your boss was... well, your boss. And your work was exhausting, your feet hurt and your brain was working on the migraine of the century-
You just wanted to eat and watch your comfort TV show and turn your brain off -for an hour, at least. If not for the last few hours before you went to sleep, that was dream case scenario. Finally, when your brain was succumbing to the buzz of the voices, your eyes drifting shut, and the couch seemed so fluffy, there was a noise.
At first, you ignored it -figured it was your brain or something out in the hallway.
But then, it came back -a clear, harsh knock.
'2:30 am,' flashed across your screen as you looked at it, and then again, seriously, you thought you imagined it. Because who would that be?
You were fully awake now, leaning up on your couch, staring at your door -waiting, testing if it was real.
Knock.
Huh, you stood up -wiping at your eyes, and slowly slinking to the door.
"Hello?"
You don't know what you expected, but it certainly wasn't what you saw.
It was your neighbor, sweaty with ripped clothes (a suit, you think) -was he ever in anything else? His eyes were lidded, nose bleeding, it stained his mustache, and you were pretty sure there was a knife in his shoulder-
"You 'ave any first aid?" He had an accent, a crazy accent that somehow suited him but you didn't expect at all.
"Are you-" you were in disbelief, "-Are you okay?"
He paused, before retorting -frankly, "Did you hear a fuckin' word I said, love?"
"Sorry, sorry," you swallowed, beckoning him inside, "-I think I have one in my bathroom. Just- Just sit at the counter."
"Right, thanks."
You weren't even sure your feet were touching the ground at this point, but still, you were quick -sifting through your cabinets.
A man is bleeding out in my kitchen, your brain panged, -a man is bleeding out in my kitchen.
Blinking, you mindlessly -in an entirely different way now- but directly made your way to the kitchen. A kit in your hand, you pinched yourself for a moment -this would be one weird fucking dream.
As you said, the man sat on a stool -blood dripping down onto your tile. You briskly wondered how to get that out, before sliding all the supplies across the countertop -the clatter filling the quiet air.
Pulling yourself onto the stool opposite him, you licked across your lips -fidgeting with some packaging.
"You couldn't just borrow some sugar?" you mumbled, taking out an alcohol wipe.
"What?" He furrowed his eyebrows, frown still present on his lips -it seemed like it stayed there.
"This-" you motioned to him, "-is the first time we've met. You couldn't do a normal neighbor thing? Like borrow sugar-"
"Sorry, love," he rolled his eyes, "-I'll think of it fuckin' next time, yeah?"
"You should," you scoffed, "-I don't think every neighbor would appreciate bloodstains."
"And you do?"
"No," you stressed out, dabbing at a cut along his cheek -not the worst one but the first one you could handle right now, "-I am barely awake right now, and I'm half convinced you aren't even real-"
"Very real," he tsked, less biting this time.
You digested that information, swallowing dryly. A man, in some business, was on your stool, bleeding.
"Honest question," You pursed your lips, before focusing on another cut above his eyebrow. You were blatantly ignoring the knife, you literally had no idea-
"Go ahead," he huffed out, breaths puffing out of his chest.
"How the hell did you get stabbed?"
The man paused, thinking over his answer (why did he have to think?), "Break-in?"
You raised an eyebrow, tossing out the wipe, "You sure about that answer?"
"Better if ya didn't know, love," he mended -blue eyes slinking over your kitchen.
You hummed, picking through the material -thank god you took that sewing class, "Kind of expected that, mysterious suited neighbor."
"Tangerine."
You flicked up your eyes, confused, "Is that... Is that your safeword, or...?"
"Fuckin' hell," he sighed, using a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, "-'s my name."
"Your name?" you questioned, tone raising.
"My brother-" he began before shaking his head -solidly, "-Doesn't fuckin matter, are ya gonna get to the knife wound or?"
"Listen," you spoke -a little pressed, "-I'm not one to stitch up wounds, Tangerine. I have to remember my sewing class-"
"You gonna stitch up my fuckin' shirt then, love?"
"Oh my god," you exhaled through your nose, "-no wonder you had to come to a stranger."
He opened his mouth -eager to bite back, but you promptly interrupted him.
"I have no experience," you said, taking the knife handle into your hand, "-but I'm pretty sure this is going to hurt like hell."
"Lucky for you, love," he spoke through labored breaths -wrapping his fingers around yours, "-I'm very fuckin' experienced."
And then without hesitation, he tugged it out.
The next few moments were bloody and unreal to you -your hands working quickly but your brain significantly falling behind. You could cross 'stitching up a wound on a handsome man' off your bucket list if it was ever even on there.
Now, you sat on the stool -hands sticky red, and your shirt (one of your better pjs, sadly) stained just the same. With a roll of bandages, you wrapped his shoulder with tedious little movements -eyes focused only on the skin. Only looking up when you'd tied it off, mind finally settling.
"Is that everything?" You asked, careful to not put your hands anywhere except your shirt.
"Yeah," he spoke, softer, "-just some bruisin', I think."
"Let me get you some peas," you echoed, sliding down from your stool -steps slow, you were just tired.
He didn't speak a word, as you dug through your freezer -finding one at the very bottom, of course.
You extended your hand, the cold sensation keeping you up -aware. Right now, your brain was in overdrive, probably ever since he'd shown up at your door, and your body merely just followed behind.
He shifted, grabbing it from you -you saw a kiss of a tattoo that you were curious about but not enough to ask. Your eyes sunk along his shirt, which was not a shirt anymore, all bloodstained and ripped up.
Before you could stop it, you were asking, "Do you need new clothes?"
Tangerine paused, looking at you like you grew a third head. You were past that point, you had his literal blood on your hands -there was no need to be shy now.
"'Had a boyfriend about your build," you clarified, "-I never gave him back like 10 shirts, so-"
"10?" He interrupted and you thought you might've seen a smile quirk onto his lips.
"He smelled good," you offered, before spinning to the kitchen and proceeding to scrub your hands with no hesitation, "-You want one or not?"
"Yeah," he sighed out, a little awkwardly, "-Yeah, thanks."
"While I'm at it," you spoke over your shoulder, "-do you need a place to stay?"
He pursed his lips, hand pushed into the peas against his ribs -you imagined it would be a big bruise in the morning.
"I'm pretty sure whatever happened," you emphasized, "-left a mess. I have a couch if you need it."
"Bein' awfully fuckin' nice to a stranger," he hummed, eyes tired.
"I figured you would've killed me way earlier," you remarked, finally drying them on a nearby towel, "'Had some good opportunities."
He smiled then, you actually saw it with your own two eyes -you almost thought you were hallucinating. His head tilting back, as his shoulder pressed against your counter -he looked kind of like a painting, all twisted angles and sharp jaw.
"What's yours?"
You furrowed your eyebrows, "My what?"
"Your name, love," he answered, soft and attentive -much different than before (you kind of thought he might've lost too much blood).
"You wanna know that now?" You laughed, but even still you told him -there was something about him that made you feel at ease. He really shouldn't have.
He stayed that night, cozied up in your ex-boyfriend's shirt (which he looked surprisingly good in) and freshly showered. You didn't see him when you woke up that morning, and you didn't know why you had expected it.
A few weeks go by, and you were pretty sure that he moved out. Which, in retrospect, made sense, even still something in you felt kinda disappointed. He was the first person you'd actually talked to in months.
Coworkers didn't count.
You shook your head, he was literally covered in blood. In a business he couldn't talk about, and you missed him? You were officially losing your mind.
"Stupid," you muttered, eyes dipping across the TV -some sort of cheesy romcom that you'd never seen before in your life but still felt nostalgic to watch. It wasn't the worst thing you'd ever seen.
Good enough to sit and eat your favorite meal to, it was interesting enough to keep you awake.
When you finally slinked off to bed, and tossed into your fluffy comforter and soft pillows, you were exhausted. Far too exhausted to stay awake any longer. So, you didn't.
The sun was creeping through your window when you woke up, but not a morning sun -a too early sun. You groaned, looking to your phone and seeing without a doubt, it was 4:15 am. At first, you didn't know why you'd woken up so early but then you heard it.
A knock.
Initially, you were not going to move because it was warm here and you were tired.
But then you thought about if it was him, and if in the morning you'd see him dead on your doorstep. That would be suspicious, and you'd probably end up in jail-
You sighed, pulling yourself out of the bed and pattering to the door. And when you swung it open, you were met with familiar blue eyes.
Before you could stop it, you asked, "Don't you have any friends?"
He barked out a laugh -chuckle really, but something in him seemed nervous (like he wasn't sure if he should have come), "Lovely to see you too, love."
"Right," you agreed, before shuffling to the side and letting him in. He relaxed ever-so-slightly.
The first thing you noticed was a split on his forehead, just a cut -it wouldn't need any stitches (thank god, these pajamas were your favorite), and then you dipped to his clothes which were actually in tack. It was a blue suit, really complimented his eyes, and you wondered distantly if he did that on purpose. He seemed the type.
His pants though were dirty, and you could see him limping -only slightly. He was definitely not in as bad as shape as before though; you really wondered why he was here.
"Sit," you motioned to the stool and disappeared into your bathroom.
You got much of the same things and climbed onto the stool beside him, eyes sweeping across his face. Now that you were closer, you could see little cuts along his skin -teeny tiny.
"Glass bottle," he offered before you could say anything.
You hummed, nonchalantly, "Coulda guessed."
Your brain was numb at the moment, still sleepy and you once again thought this might've been a hallucination. He was handsome after all, and you did daydream about handsome men so it definitely could be. And you guessed you could have a saviour thing-
You stopped your train of thought, interrupting the silence as you dabbed at his forehead, "You know I'm not a doctor, right?"
He spoke, frankly, "You talked about a sewing class when you needed to stitch up my bloody fuckin' knife wound, love."
You nodded, fair point, before continuing, "Then why are you here?"
Tangerine paused, and you thought distantly he didn't have an answer, until he answered, "'Hard to do myself."
You thought for a moment, before replying, "What about your brother?"
"Not in the fuckin' country," he answered simply -something frustrated in his tone. But then again, when wasn't there?
"Hmm," you hummed, before rubbing the rest of the tiny cuts -he hissed slightly, "-different job?"
"No," he exhaled, "-just a different... mission."
"'Make it sound like you're a super spy," you laughed, "-but Tangerine isn't a very cool codename."
"Fuck you."
"You are such a joy," you remarked, debating bandaging the top cut, "-Are bandaids too baby for you?"
"Plasters?" He asked.
British, right, you nodded -waving one in your fingers, "Yeah, I think it's all I've got for your wounds. Well, unless you want it wrapped around your head-"
"'s fine," he muttered -low but you still caught it.
"Good," you assured, sticking one to his skin -fingers fluttering along his skin (when was the last time you touched someone?).
"Alright," you leaned back, gathering up your supplies -promptly ignoring the thought, "-all done here. Your leg-"
"Bruised ankle," he clarified -explaining the limp.
"Oh," you spoke, "-I'll get the peas again."
Your eyes dipped to his pants, covered in... something (maybe a mix of blood and dirt?), "And a pair of pants."
He didn't say a word, merely staying seated, as you grabbed the peas -sliding them across your counter. Before stalling slightly, asking-
"Do you even still live here?"
He pressed his lips together, apparently debating telling you -which you were slightly offended by, "No."
"So you're staying?" You asked, neutrally.
"Don't 'ave to," he spoke -not combative, and you really thought you were hallucinating then.
You tilted your head, confused, "You can stay, didn't I say that before?"
He nodded, still so wordless, and you were honestly the most confused you ever could be. Tangerine was quieter, softer, and it was nothing like the time before; he even seemed grateful.
"Honest question," you started.
"Yeah, love?"
"Are you okay?" You decided, careful wording with eye contact strong. You two were kind of close, he left his life in your hands -it was strangely intimate. Your relationship was very confusing, but it felt right to ask.
"Yeah," he answered -furrowing his brows, "-these wounds are fuckin' nothing, love. I have been far, far closer to death."
"No, I mean-" you clarified, "-like mentally. You're being too nice."
He raised his eyebrows, "Too nice?"
"Yeah," you stressed like it was obvious, "-you are like grateful and shit. You've barely cussed at me."
"You saved my fuckin' life, love," he questioned, "-shouldn't I be kind for 'at?"
"You should," you agreed, before contradicting, "-but you don't."
He was quiet then, eyes not meeting yours as his fingers tapped against your counter -seemingly running things over in his mind. It was awhile that he was doing that, but you patiently waited. You suspected opening up at all wasn't his forte.
Finally, still looking around your living room, he mumbled, "'Needed to see someone."
You took him at his word -not dwelling because it really felt like he didn't want to, and the rest of the night was the same. He took the pants, slept on the couch, and was gone in the morning -even though he couldn't have slept more than a few hours.
It started happening pretty regularly after that. You'd fix him up, he'd talk, you'd talk, he'd stay over. You started loosening up, talking about your job, and your life -nothing super specific. He stayed clammed up about his job, but his personal life he did talk about -there wasn't much, but he did talk about his brother.
You felt like that was a big thing.
And then, after quite a few months between visits, you heard a knock at your door. Super late as always, you made your way to it -expectant and in routine. This time though, there were two of them: a familiar Tangerine, and a man with bleached tips and a surprisingly big smile.
"Hello," he smiled and it was very odd -Tangerine hardly smiled, "-lovely to meet ya, I'm Lemon."
You could assume from the name, even still, you felt a little out of place, "Nice to meet you."
"Brother," Tangerine motioned to him -frustration nearly radiating off of him, as he made his way inside.
"Rude," Lemon spoke, "-can I come in?"
"Yeah, of course," you exhaled, letting him in.
Tangerine was relatively well -bruised knuckles, a busted lip, and a mild slice on his collarbone. Lemon was even better with just a black eye, atleast on the surface.
Instead of on the stool, Tangerine beelined straight to the bathroom -slamming the door.
You pursed your lips, turning to Lemon for answers, "What the hell is wrong with him?"
"Annoyed 'im into takin' me 'ere," he answered simply, "-'Wanted to meet who my brother was talkin' about."
He talks about me, you thought for a moment -you fully believed that you were a little miniature part of his life, not something he'd talk about. Especially to his brother.
He must've seen your confusion, because he continued.
"Oh, he never shuts up, love," he laughed, "-'Feel like I already fuckin' know ya."
"Huh," you responded, puzzled.
You thought about it for a second, running over the idea in your mind. What did he have to talk about? Your life? Your boring job, your lack of love life, your favorite cheesy movies? He told that to his brother? His brother with the same unbelievable life?
Why the hell would he do that?
"Please, sit on my couch," you finally spoke, wandering towards the kitchen with intent, "-I'll get you something cold for your eye. And then, I'll deal with the tantrum."
"Thanks," Lemon smiled, tottering off to your TV and without hesitation, popping it on.
He really was very comfortable for not knowing you. How much had Tangerine said?
You stepped into the living room, offering the same peas to Lemon (did you even like peas?) that you often gave Tangerine. He smiled gratefully.
"Do you need any like Tylenol?" You asked, further -eyes swiftly drifting over his eye, it was a nasty sort of yellow, "-that one is a shiner."
"So nice," Lemon hummed, "-no wonder my brother was hoggin' ya. But, I'll be alright, 'ave had worse."
You nodded, before slowly making your way toward the bathroom. Raising your hand, you gently knocked -nothing compared to his on your door in ungodly hours of the morning.
"Tangerine?" You offered.
The door slid open, and your eyes swam over him -taking in his wounds that you had before like in confirmation. He really wasn't hurt bad, not like other times.
Turns out, you didn't care and still wanted to help.
He was leaning against the counter fidgeting with his hands -you think there was blood on his rings. You spoke before you could think about it.
"You want me to wash those?"
He quirked an eyebrow, "What?"
“Your rings,” you clarified, mentally cursing yourself, “-or… do you need help with your wounds?”
He seems to think about it for a moment, eyes dashing across his knuckles -his rings, really. You only watched him for a few moments, half convinced you had dreamt this all up, that maybe he didn’t even exist. Maybe he was a figment of your imagination, he was certainly handsome enough. And his name was Tangerine. This could definitely all be a dream.
“Think I can do the rings myself, love,” he laughed a little -you still weren’t used to that sound, “-and the wounds aren’t ‘at bad.”
You looked at him for a moment, peering along the busted lip and the slice on his collarbone, “You sure? It’s kind of all I do, is it not?”
He smiled, mustache quirking up, “If it makes you feel better, you can clean the cut. But really, love, I’m fine.”
You pursed your lips, taking in his breaths that swirled with yours -the bathroom was small, “I’ll just get you some ice for your knuckles. But if you die from infection, it’s not on me.”
He really laughed at the one, as you spun on your feet back to the kitchen -digging out some other frozen food you hadn’t gotten around to eating yet. With a solid motion, you extended it forward (it was maybe tater tots?), offering it to Tangerine.
“Sorry it’s not the peas,” you spoke, pointing to Lemon -who at the time seemed to be half asleep on the couch, “-your brother stole those.”
“The fuckin’ twat,” he hissed out, a little too personally -you thought it was probably about something far bigger than your frozen peas. He could definitely be that petty though. So, it was possible.
"Woah, somebody's pissy today. Bad day?"
Tangerine seemed to pause, eyes swimming over you -like he was committing you to memory, you briefly wondered why.
"Yeah," he said, solidly -not elaborating. You knew better than to expect him to.
"Well," you spoke, a little awkwardly -not sure where to go, "-I've got... icecream?"
He looked at you like you were insane, but then again, when wasn't he? You said a lot of things without a filter in front of him. Handsome men, what could you say?
"Like..." you clarified, clearing your throat, "-to eat."
"Yeah, love, I fuckin' got 'at part. Why the hell would I want icecream?"
There it was. Tangerine in his true form.
You opened your mouth to respond, but someone else cut you to the chase.
"Sorry," Lemon perked up, "-did you say icecream? Because 'at would be really lovely with this movie, a great pair-"
"Yeah," you turned to him -his presence was a lot warmer (why was his name Lemon?), "-I've only got one flavor, but..."
"Fine with me," Lemon responded, with a big smile, "-brother, are you gettin' any?"
Tangerine huffed out of his nose, genuinely frustrated apparently -much different than a moment ago. What was he even angry about? There was nothing-
"No," he spoke through a snarl.
"Ouch," Lemon put his hands on his heart, replying flatly, "-really hurts, mate. Not used to your shitty behavior at all."
You decidedly left the room (not really it was all open concept), waltzing toward your kitchen with a focus in mind. As you were digging around, trying to find the pint you'd hidden from yourself, you were interrupted.
"Do you..." you turned at his voice, Tangerine, he didn't look very certain of his words, "-Do you need any help, love?"
"Help?" You questioned, raising an eyebrow, "-With icecream?"
"Well," he was suddenly very grumpy -probably embarrassed, "-you help me all the fuckin' time, so I just thought- Excuse me for fuckin' offering."
"You..." you started, standing and now facing him, "-You were going to repay me for saving your life, by helping me with icecream?"
"'S hardly saving my life," he grumbled, under his breath -you still heard it.
"You had a knife-" you motioned harshly to stress the word, "-in your shoulder the first time we met."
"Not deadly," he retorted, a bit pompous.
You rolled your eyes, "Look, give me the benefit of the doubt-"
Tangerine quickly said -almost on instinct, "I certainly will fuckin' not."
"-let's call it even," you continued, ignoring his remark, "-I save your life, you save mine."
"That's..." he started, "-That's makin' it even?"
"Well, yeah," you tilted your head, "-a life for a life."
He furrowed his eyebrows, you took it as him not understanding.
"Let's say that I'm getting chased down an alley," you clarified, before interjecting, "-Ooh wait, or maybe I'm getting robbed-"
"Are you fuckin' excited at the idea of gettin' robbed, love?"
"No," you quickly mended, "-it's just a better story. Plus, that's not relevant-"
His lips quirked up into a little smile.
"-What I'm saying is," you started, "-If I'm in trouble, you have to save me. To make it even."
"And how am I supposed to know when you're in trouble, then?"
You paused, pursing your lips -good point, "Uh, I don't know. Do you guys have like a bat signal? Like I hold up a fruit stand sign to the light-"
"Very funny," Tangerine interrupted -flatly, "-Look, just take my phone number, yeah? If you're ever in trouble, you can ring me like a fuckin' normal person."
"You're one to talk," you responded, before furrowing your eyebrows, "-Wait, you guys have phones?"
"Yeah," Tangerine stressed, "-who do you think we are?"
"Well, I don't know," you explained, "-don't phones have trackers? Won't that out you guys? When you're on... jobs?"
"Burners," Lemon quickly clarified, "-well, kind of. 'S on a secret network, basically."
"So," you started, processing, "-you want to give me your secret phone number?"
Tangerine hummed, realizing but seeming to settle, "Well, it's not like you've given me a reason to not trust you, love. Should I not?"
"True," you responded, "-I have not snitched on you. Even with... all the blood, and the knife, and the job you won't talk about-"
"We get it, love," he groaned out, "-just give me your fuckin' phone, yeah?"
You without hesitation gave it to him, he seemed to quickly put your phone number in his, and then his in yours -handing it back to you open on the contact. With a smile, you made his name the tangerine emoji.
"You put me as the damn emoji, didn't you?"
"Oh, yeah," you laughed out, pocketing your phone in one fellow swoop.
You ended up seeing them both a few more times after that with varying injuries. (Once Lemon had a broken nose, and Tangerine had a broken finger. No more knives, thankfully.)
They were starting to be familiar to you -friends even. Despite not telling you about their job, you had gotten to know them well; you hate to brag but you were pretty good at settling their arguments. It made you integral to their dynamic.
You probably should've known one day you helping them stay alive would come back and bite you in the ass.
See, if you were asked, you'd probably assume they had many enemies. They were, at least, fighting people on a daily basis -you don't do that if your job is a positive one. And fighting people, almost regularly, is a surefire way of saying 'somebody hates me'. They probably had an enemy in every other city, if you were realistic.
You don't know why you hadn't thought of that.
That day, it was just a normal one. You worked until the sun went down, and then went home. Or you were supposed to.
Your shift at work was long and exhausting and you kind of wished your bed was right in front of you -so, to be honest, you weren't in your most aware state. It was always dangerous walking the streets tired, you knew this, so you usually had someone walk home with you. This night, in particular, was a lone shift (hell on earth) with a manager you didn't like, so you didn't ask.
And maybe that was stupid of you, but you doubted they would say yes.
Your feet pattered along the sidewalk, street lamps fading in and out of your view. Every few steps it'd get dark and then light again; to be honest, you were too tired to feel scared when it was dark.
And then, right as you stepped into the light, you heard the screech of car breaks (which you were kind of used to) and then suddenly there were hands all over you. Gloved hands, black-gloved hands.
Before you could say a word, you were thrown into the back of a van -no seats by the way, and enveloped in darkness.
It took you a minute to adjust, head spinning and hands shaking against the cold metal underneath you. It kind of felt like when you met Tangerine for the first time, like you weren't really there. Like you were experiencing something so bizarre, it couldn't be real-
Shit, you thought to yourself, Tangerine.
You patted yourself, ruffling over your pockets -trying to find your phone. It was dark and you couldn't even see. You guessed that was why, your phone went clattering onto the metal, away from your hand -loud.
There was something in you that hoped that these guys were stupid. That they'd look over the noise and ignore you until they took you wherever the hell they were taking you.
You weren't that lucky.
The van was distinctly pulled over, tires even scraping along the bumpy texture. And within minutes, the door to the van was flung open.
They were just a shadowy figure, light framing them so you couldn't see any of his features at all. He was just a shadow. You didn't know if that made him any scarier.
"What the hell are you doing back here?" His voice was low and gruff -like a smoker.
"I didn't-" you started, trying to avoid your phone -it was shadowed in the dark. You doubted he could see it-
And then his eyes flicked directly to it.
You literally could not have had a worse day.
Instead of reaching for it, he eyed for you to instead. And for a second, you thought he might've been trying to help you. That was wrong.
With your phone in your hand, the man promptly put a gun to your head. From a distance, yeah, but still trained directly into the center of your forehead. Was he going to kill you? Just like that?
This was suddenly very real, you swallowed back tears and nearly dropped your phone -trying to raise your hands up.
"Please," you begged, slowly and shaky but clear enough for them to hear.
"Shut up," he hissed out, "-listen. Take your phone, and call 'em."
"C-Call who?"
"Don't play dumb with me," the man echoed out, and you heard the click of the trigger pulling back -dear god, "-we know you're close to the twins, we've been watchin' your place for months."
"Okay, okay-" you breathed out, it felt like your lungs were full like you were suffocating-
Tears burned at the backs of your eyes, as your fingers, shaking, scrolled around the contacts app -he hadn't texted you or anything so all you had was his contact. Only for emergencies, he'd said.
You almost wanted to scare him once, but the idea felt so very stupid now.
Clicking call, the man nudged your hand, speaking lowly, "Put it on fucking speaker, now."
You dutifully did so, even if it took a few tries to hit the button -your hands were shaking enough to blur the screen. Your head was spinning, and the only thing your could feel was the cold metal beneath your legs.
Why did you ever think this was a good idea? To get caught up with... with bloody men who had a mysterious job?
You were moving back home if you made it out alive -the city wasn't worth this.
"'Ello?" His voice was spent, and you could hear the raggedy breaths puffing out of his chest -somehow hearing his voice calmed you just a second.
The man nudged you again, so you spoke, "Tangerine?"
He must have not been paying attention, because your shaky whisper -wet from your tears, you were crying, went relatively unnoticed.
"Little busy at the mo-" you heard a solid hit and what sounded like a crack, "-ment, you sure this is important, love?"
The man kept his eyes laser-focused on you, you took it as a sign to keep talking.
"T-Tangerine," you repeated, more inflection -the shake in your voice unavoidable.
The noise on the phone, suddenly got very quiet -you heard him mumble something to Lemon 'you got 'im?' before seeming to pull his full attention to you, "Everything okay, love? You sound... Is somethin' wrong?"
The man looked at you, expectantly. You took it as to tell him what was happening, clenching your nails into your skin -it might bleed. The pain was distracting, even just for a moment.
"I-I'm," you tried, but your voice cracked, and your breath turned into a sob, "T-There's a man, he has a gun to my head, I don't- I don't know why-"
"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Tangerine spit out, something fierce in his voice, "Lemon-"
The man snatched the phone from your hand, voice low and in a growl, "Seems I got something you want, Tangerine. It's only fair."
"Who the hell are you?"
"Doesn't matter," the man deflected, "-all that matters is that I have your little nurse, and you have no idea where we are."
The van, suddenly without warning, started up again -swinging back onto the road. You braced yourself against the wall, mindlessly blinking -this isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real.
You could hear the pounding of his footsteps -rushed, like he was trying to get somewhere, "If you lay a hand on 'em, I will fuckin' rip you apart, piece by excruciating piece. Slow and fuckin' steady, for hours-"
"You say that as if you know where we are," the man responded, "-as if you have a chance of finding them in time."
In time? your brain chimed, and everything felt so far away now.
"I swear to fuckin' god-" he spit out, venomous, "-if you hurt 'em-"
"Yeah, yeah," the man retorted -confidence in his tone, "-I got that part, fruit."
You breathed out, swallowing back tears, and wiping your eyes so hard that you were seeing spots; maybe this was all a dream, maybe you had just fallen asleep at work-
"Hate to do this to you," the man echoed out, "-but we have to go. Let's hope we see each other later, for your sake."
Tangerine nearly yelled through the phone, but that didn't stop him from hanging up.
At the next stop, the man moved back to the front -taking your phone with him. You sat alone, in the back of a van, in complete darkness.
Would this be the last thing you ever see? Really?
It was just like you were in the city, so incredibly alone. At least you had a chance then, to remedy it. Now... Now you weren't even sure you'd be breathing in a few hours.
"Oh god," you breathed out a big exhale, a sob bubbling up your throat -you had so much left to do, "-oh god."
The van didn't stop for what felt like forever, bumpy roads and quick turns -they were speeding the whole time, and you had no idea how they weren't pulled over. But maybe it was because of the hour, it was fairly late.
The door swung open before you could think about anything else, two men rushing in and grabbing you by the shoulders -dragging you out.
"If you scream," you felt cold metal to your neck, "-you're dead."
"Aren't you going to kill me anyways?"
"Only if your friends," the other man retorted, "-don't behave."
They tied something around your eyes, leaving you completely in the dark -gloved hands squeezing your shoulders so tight, they were definitely going to bruise. Three sets of feet pattered along what sounded like concrete, as your mind went numb -the cold, bitter air filtering over your skin.
It was echoing now, after you heard the swing of some heavy doors opening -must have been a big place. Your mind was reeling, you felt like you weren't even really there.
Then, without a word, they threw you forward directly into a brick wall -seemingly latching a door behind you. Your head spun for a moment as you tried to reorient yourself -blindfold still on, as you pulled it off you felt a stickiness on your forehead.
Pulling your hand in front of your face, you realized it was blood. How hard did you hit your head?
Your fingers flitted across it again, and you hissed. Apparently very hard.
You tried to look at your hands, see how much blood, but it was all shadowed -the darkness didn't change much from what you saw in the blindfold.
Hands shaking, you leaned yourself against the wall -tears steadily making their way down your cheeks. You could cry now, freely, as you finally were brought back down to your body.
This was really happening. You were in some dingy old room, and there were men outside who wanted to kill you to get at someone else. You were expendable, a pawn.
Any moment, any feeling, and they could just kill you. You'd die here, and nobody would know what happened to you.
You'd be one of those news stories you couldn't believe.
The brick scratched against your head, but it was kind of numbed by your headache -pounding where you knew the split of skin to be. Or where you could've guessed it was anyway.
That couldn't mean anything good.
Your breaths were starting to hollow out, low and slow, your body coming back to the cold concrete floors. You were grappling with your helplessness, what the hell would you do? What could you do?
You were... you couldn't do anything. You were done. This was it, all that work for... for you to die in some dingy old room alone.
And then, you thought of something you hadn't thought to. Something you'd never let your mind dig into, not really, because at the time it seemed stupid.
Tangerine.
You'd always known there was something there, something bubbling under your skin. Even with everything, you still... there was something.
Something warm in your chest at the idea that he came to see you. That it wasn't just for the help anymore. And he was handsome, and he promised to save you and his eyes and his arms and his hands-
Before you could think about it for too long, something interrupted you.
Boom.
It made your ears sting, the noise bouncing along the walls -you flinched where you sat. Breath sudden in a gasp, you stilled. Almost like as if someone could see you, like you were hiding.
There was some shuffling outside, someone messing with the latch on the door -they were struggling. Maybe because their hands were shaking? They were trying to get in-
And then, right outside the door was an even louder-
Boom.
It makes your head sting, squeezing your eyes shut so hard that you see spots. You swallowed, trying to calm the pounding in your head, rubbing at your temples.
Gunshots, you recognized, suddenly, they were gunshots.
Your heart stuttered in your chest, they were right outside the door. With a gun. With a gun-
Before you could think of anything to say, the rattling at the door started again -the scratch of metal against metal. It sounded more frantic now, somehow, and your whole body froze. Maybe if you didn't move they wouldn't hear you?
The door swung open, light pouring in that made your eyes sting. The door pounding against the wall -loud and opposing.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you held your breath, staying completely still -hoping the shadow hid you against the walls. One hand covering your face, waiting until a figure steps into the room.
And when one did, cast in shadow, you sat very still. Watching their head twist around the room, back and forth -looking, searching.
You bit back a sob, let me live, let me live.
Then, they spoke.
"Love? Are you in 'ere?" He echoed out, "-Or was that fuckin' twat lyin'-"
"Tangerine," spilled out of your mouth as you rushed forward -wrapping your arms around him in a huff, "-holy shit, Tangerine-"
He stood frozen for a second, unfamiliar with the affection, you assumed. You inhaled a shaky breath in, the whiff of his cologne keeping you stable, there. You were safe-
His arms slowly met around you, unsure, but settling comfortably. Holding you for a second, just a second.
"Are you alright, love?" He pushed back a little bit -blue eyes scanning over you, "-Did he fuckin' lay a hand on you?"
"No, just-" you breathed out, pushing through the pain, "-he slammed me against the wall, I hit my head pretty hard, but that's-"
"Your head?" He asked, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into the light, "-Come out 'ere, love, so I can see."
"It's not really-"
Tangerine let out a big sigh, turning back to you, "Let me help you, yeah?"
You pursed your lips, eyeing him for a moment -he was relatively unscathed, just a blood stain on his shirt and maybe some busted-up knuckles. His hair was still in place and his suit jacket uncreased, he felt composed -sturdy. Stable, really.
"Okay," you whispered out, letting him guide you out the door -you hissed at the little light you did see, almost instinctively squeezing your eyes shut.
"Sorry, love," he spoke, soft and gentle, "-can't control the sun for you."
"You could block it," you remarked, "-god made your shoulders insanely broad for a reason."
He laughed, moving in his place so less light shone on you -hands moving to hold your face (tilting the wound into the light), "You think my shoulders are broad, then?"
"Duh," you responded, something in your head woozy -you stumbled a little in place.
"Shit," he reacted, hands smoothing to your shoulders, holding you up, "-Can you 'ear me? Stay fuckin' awake, yeah?"
"Okay," you blinked heavily, trying to see him clearly.
When you did, he stood there eyes desperately searching yours -looking at you, concerned. They scattered all over you, settling on the split on your head for a bit too long -it was still pounding in your head, made you flinch a little.
"Do you think-" you started, "-Do you think I need a hospital?"
"No," Tangerine breathed out, fingers dusting along your wound, "-just need someone to watch ya overnight. And to clean you up a bit."
"Wouldn't..." you echoed, "-Wouldn't a hospital do that?"
Tangerine met your eyes, his lips quirking into a smile (just barely), "You think you're fuckin' funny, yeah?"
"I'm just making a point," you deflected.
"Just-" he sighed out, before connecting your eyes again, "-let me help you. I want to, yeah? I really fuckin' want to."
"Okay," you echoed out, relaxing into his touch -relaxing finally, "-fine."
"Good," he tsked, and without hesitation wrapped his fingers around your wrist, "-now, let's get out of 'ere, shall we?"
You did so, eyes squeezed shut tight because all the light did was hurt. But Tangerine soothed you, hand still on your wrist, ("Close your eyes if it hurts, love, I've got you.") and guided you along, even sitting you down in the car and pulling the seat belt along your body.
"You know I could do that myself, right?" You spoke, eyes squinted open -the car was much darker.
He didn't dignify you with a response, sliding into your side and shutting the door behind himself. He silently settled into the seat beside you, like the passenger seat was taken. Which it decidedly was not.
His blue eyes kept darting to you, and you could feel his leg pressed against yours.
"You know that I'm fine, Tangerine," you exhaled, looking to him, "-don't you?"
He didn't respond, so you continued.
"You looked at my wound, I'm alright-" you laughed a little, "-I can sit in the backseat by myself."
Tangerine seemed to think for a second, before speaking decidedly, "If you go to fuckin' sleep, love, you won't wake up. I'm 'ere to keep you awake."
You could feel his breath fan over your face, and you swallowed. You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, as your eyes stayed on his (blue, blue-). With another intake of breath, you snapped them away -eagerly looking out the window.
Well, you thought to yourself, you're doing a really good job, Tangerine.
The city blurred by, as it made way to more familiar silhouettes but not... not yours. Not ones near your home.
"Um," you spoke, particularly to Lemon (who was driving) "-are we not going... home?"
"You serious, love?" Tangerine offered, blue eyes decidedly matching yours.
"Are we not-"
Lemon interrupted -catching your eye in the mirror, "You were kidnapped, mate. Do you not remember 'at?"
"No, I do," you huffed out, eyes dashing between the two of them, "-they didn't get me at home though, they got me off the street."
"Doesn't mean anythin'," Tangerine countered, jaw twitching ever so slightly -he really didn't like talking about them, "-'Ey 'ave eyes on your home, 's how they made the connection to us."
"Tangerine-"
"He's got a point," Lemon responded, fingers tapping along the wheel, "-takes too much effort to prove 'im wrong, trust me."
"Lemon-"
"Why do you even want to go home, love?" Tangerine interrupted, eyebrows furrowed -genuine curiosity.
"Because it's my home," you reiterated, "-it's familiar. I know you guys may have forgotten the feeling, but it... it would make me feel a lot better to be home."
Tangerine sighed, a deep heavy sigh, "How about a compromise?"
You pursed your lips, eyes flickering across his face (god, was he pretty), "I'm listening."
"We stay at the hotel a few nights until they cool off," he offered, "-and then, you can go home."
You sighed out in relief.
"But," Tangerine clarified, "-me and Lemon need to stay with you for a while. There's not a fuckin' chance you're goin' alone after this. Especially so soon."
"What so-" you started, "-you guys are going to constantly be around me? I have work, and I... I need to get groceries-"
"We 'ave to be, love," Tangerine spoke in almost a whisper, soft, "-these people, they're not goin' to be as fuckin' nice next time. Lemon and I know 'at."
Right, you thought to yourself, mysterious jobs. They've probably done something like this before.
You involuntary shuddered, thinking about the darkness and the gun and your life-
Tangerine looked at you, eyes darting around your face -a slosh of concern sliding over his features, flickering in his eyes. It was no wonder those thoughts had come to the forefront of your mind, he was so protective of you. There's only so much you can resist feelings for someone who so very much values your life.
A handsome someone, your mind tsked.
Before he could open his mouth though, you turned your head back to the window. A familiar swirl bubbled into your stomach, you couldn't chance looking at him. Afterall, getting flustered with him was surely a dead giveaway and there was no way in hell Tangerine felt anything remotely the same.
And that was plain embarrassing.
You felt suddenly like you were in school again, and were crushing on a jock -that never even looked your way. It felt pretty hopeless, and even though it did, it didn't stop you from going to every game -just to pretend for a little while.
Was that what patching him up was? Your own sort of way to be close to him, to pretend for a moment that everything was different.
Shit, you thought, that is embarrassing.
Luckily, you severely doubted Tangerine would ever know. You were pretty good at keeping secrets. Hence, well, the whole reason you were even here in the first place -you regularly housed assassins.
It took only a few minutes after that (feeling blue eyes boring into your side the whole time) when Lemon pulled into a parking spot and you arrived at the hotel. Lucky for you, it was far from a dingy old place on the side of the road.
This place was way above your paygrade. You had never even dreamed of living such a luxury; all golden accents and marble floors. You hardly even knew this place existed in your city.
"I take it back," you whispered to Tangerine, as Lemon strode up to the front desk to request a room change, "-we can stay here forever."
You saw the woman point to you, clearly in concern and you suddenly remembered the wound on your head. Your fingers smoothed along it, and you grimaced, Lemon seemed to come up with some sort of explanation, though. And she promptly looked away.
Tangerine laughed at your words, a quiet little chuckle, and fell rather silent. You peered over at him, wondering why he hadn't said anything back; and when you did, he seemed to be stealing little looks at you -silently fidgeting with his rings.
You pursed your lips in thought for a moment, debating asking him about it.
Before you could, he opened his mouth to say something -eyes lingering on your face, like he was trying to memorize it (something in your chest fluttered), "Love, I-"
"Sorry, mates," Lemon interrupted, eyes dashing between the two of you for a moment, "-rooms are booked tonight. Lady says we can try again tomorrow but she doubts it'll 'ave changed."
"So," you swallowed, "-just two bedrooms?"
"Yep," Lemon popped the p, "-and hate to say it, but I'm gettin' one by myself. You lot can figure the rest of 'at out yourselves."
Something was gleaming there in his eye -something mischievous; you frowned -heartbeat stuttering in your chest.
Maybe there's a couch, your mind chimed -a little patheticly.
As fate would have it, there was. And an entire kitchen and living space -an expensive kitchen and living space. You were truly floored by this place.
"This is a hotel, right?" you questioned, eyes lingering on the high ceilings (you decidedly did not have those).
"For rich blokes," Lemon clarified, "-the kinds 'at hate to 'ave anythin' besides luxury."
You spun around, eyes darting between the two of them, "Like you two?"
Tangerine frowned, and Lemon snorted -disappearing off into the kitchen; leaving just you and Tangerine alone in the living space. That being said, each room was actually divided, with no open concept -just archways.
You slung yourself onto the couch, inelegantly (but when were you ever elegant) and were pleased to find it felt like clouds, "Why, if you could pay for this, did you ever come to my apartment? They probably have an on-staff nurse you could page, good god-"
"Eh," Tangerine mended, voice calm and confident, "-like the company better 'ere."
You smiled to yourself, small and quiet, heart fluttering in your chest. You are not making this easy, fruit man.
You cleared your throat, about to shift the subject because you frankly could not address the fondness in his eyes. Instead, Lemon came to your rescue with a smile.
"Well," he spoke, "-I'm fuckin' exhausted, I'm off to bed. If you need anythin', ask Tangerine."
And then, with that, he left -disappearing behind one of the doors down into the hallway.
"You can't sleep," Tangerine said suddenly, "-your head... We've got to get you to a doctor in the mornin', so they can look at it."
"Why not tonight?"
"I truly fuckin' doubt anyone of credit would be open this late," he explained, sauntering up to your side and sitting down (when he had the whole couch).
"Tangerine," you spoke, "-the emergency room doesn't just... close."
"I just," he sighed out, leaning back into the couch "-I want you safe for tonight, yeah?"
"I doubt they'd show up to a hospital," you reasoned, weighing your words.
Tangerine frowned.
"Look, I just-" you paused, "-you don't have to be on watch duty. You need sleep. Just take me to the ER, and I'll-"
He scoffed, repeating, "There's no fuckin' way you're going alone, love."
Swiping the keys off one of the tables near the door and shooting Lemon a text, he grabbed your hand and guided you outside.
The night was a surprisingly quick one, as you were taken into the ER and looked at. They quickly bandaged and stitched your wound, even sending you in to get your brain looked at. Tangerine was dutifully by your side, all night, even when they told you they'd rather keep an eye on you tonight. Something along the lines of what Tangerine said, keeping you awake.
He did, however, end up getting some sleep -slouched over in a hospital chair. One of those plastic ones that really could not be comfortable, and you knew his back would ache in the morning. But when you asked him to, he straight refused to leave ("No fuckin' way, love"); so, you were sort of glad he had gotten some sleep after all.
Then, the next morning, they set you on your way. Quickly reminding your husband (it was the only way Tangerine could stay overnight) of all the bandage changes and consistent eye he should keep on you; he seemed rather serious when listening -eyes intent, and almost as if he could, he would take out a notepad and write each thing down extensively.
You were touched, something in your chest swirling widely.
Was this how he felt when you took care of him?
Well, you sort of doubted so, because they were different circumstances. Despite the closeness and the fingertips on the skin, it was less protective and more domestic. Something very different in the closeness there, and the presence of him now.
Even now, as you leaned onto the couch, scrolling through channels -you felt his eyes solidly on you.
"Tangerine," you tsked, bandage smoothed across your head, "-I'm fine."
He blinked, as your eyes swam over his face and a pink dusted along his cheeks, "That's not what I- I was just... just lookin', love."
You furrowed your eyebrows, curious, tilting your head, "Why?"
Tangerine paused, blue eyes bubbling along your skin -like he was considering his answer, or maybe deciding on one. You thought for a second that he wasn't going to say anything -wordless, as always.
"Need to change your bandage," he deflected, getting up, grabbing some supplies, and roaming over to you on the couch.
You groaned, leaning your head back against the cushions -so soft and cloudlike that you almost couldn't stay frustrated, "We just did that."
"'At was yesterday, love," Tangerine hummed, smiling ever-so-slightly, "-the doctors said-"
"The doctors said," you mocked his accent, shaking your head with the words, "-spare me the speech this time, Tan."
He smirked, face so close to yours now (peeling the old one off, rough fingertips dusting along your forehead), "Fuckin' argumentative today, yeah?"
You swallowed, eyes darting between his -back and forth, responding shortly, "Maybe."
Tangerine furrowed his eyebrows at the quickness of your response, dabbing at the wound quickly -cleaning it. He was gentle, with tiny little movements; it was hard to imagine these were the same hands that hurt others. He was so soft with your wound, why-
"You alright, love?"
He was a breath away, blue eyes (upon finishing the bandaging) matching yours, intensely. Tangerine just had an intense stare, like you simply held the world in your hands. It was like he didn't blink, even though you knew he did.
You swallowed, for a moment, eyes dashing along his face -it really was totally unfair. Your cheeks grew a little hot at the closeness, you saw his eyes dart to it -eyebrows furrowing together.
Good god, it really was like high-school again.
"What, yeah-" you laughed, awkwardly -eyes darting away from him, "-why would I not be?"
Tangerine hummed in thought for a second, and you could nearly hear the gears in his head turning, "Love... you're actin' really fuckin' odd right now."
You fidgeted with your fingers, watching them in your lap -you couldn't think straight right now. This was all new in your brain, and when was the last time you had feelings for someone-
"I'm not," you answered, finally -a bit like a toddler who was getting in trouble but the meaning all the same.
He sighed out a breath, seeming to settle on something and you could almost feel his eyeroll.
And without another second, you felt his fingers on your chin. Rough fingertips brushed against it, as he tilted you back to face him.
You blinked.
His blue eyes flickered along your face, slow and tedious, "You know you're safe with me, yeah?"
"Tangerine," you exhaled.
"I'd-" he started, eyes dipping away before coming back to yours -so genuine, "-I'd save you without the deal, you know 'at? Anytime, anywhere-"
"Tangerine, that's not-" you faltered, he was so broken open, vulnerable, to you right now. Something in your chest heavy, and your heart ready to spill on your tongue.
"I'd shoot 'im over and over again if it made ya feel safe, love," he continued, fingertip brushing along your skin like he was cradling your face, "-I'm sorry I ever let 'im put a fuckin' hand on you, you 'ave to know 'at."
"Tangerine," you sighed out, soft, "-That's not your fault."
"It is."
"Tangerine-"
"You're afraid now, aren't you?" He echoed out, a soft sort of whisper but filled with intent, "-How does 'at not mean I'm responsible? I never should've-"
"Tangerine!" You exclaimed, resorting to using your hands to cup his face -bringing him back down to earth, "-I'm not... afraid."
He paused.
"Well, yeah, I am, but it's not-" you tsked, before sighing, "-I know you'll keep me safe. I don't know how I know, I just... do."
He furrowed his eyebrows, "Then why-"
And then, as normal, your brain stopped functioning, words coming out before you could think them over, "You're very pretty."
He opened his mouth, a smirk smoothing onto his lips. You didn't let him continue.
"And I'm not immune to a pretty man caring about my well-being," you clarified, swallowing -somehow maintaining eye contact, "-I'm not... good at handling it."
"You're..." he started, a quirk of a smile on his lips (not that you were looking), "You're fuckin' flustered, love?"
"Mortifyingly embarrassed," you corrected, your voice squeaked out.
Tangerine laughed a little, "Ya sure you didn't hit your head too hard?"
"Ha ha, laugh it up, mustache," you responded, rolling your eyes -much more comfortable. The banter was easy.
"Well," he tsked, and you were suddenly very aware of how close his face is to yours, "-you apparently fuckin' like it, love. What's 'at say about you?"
You swallowed, "Didn't say it doesn't suit you."
"Hmm," he hummed, and there was a flicker of something in his eye -mischievous, "-guess not."
"Nope," you popped the p -awkwardly. Your eyes darting between his frantically, you felt something building in the air a moment -heavy as your eyes sat on his, and his on yours.
It was almost as if, a look, one glance held your entire being in the balance.
"I think you're quite pretty too, ya know," he echoed out, low and gravelly -you could feel his breaths scattered across your face. He was suddenly very close to you again, the fuzziness that banter provided snatched away.
Something twisted in the bottom of your stomach, as you opened your mouth -letting out a very quiet, "Thank you."
He seemed to take those words, just absorb them in the heavy silence that had bestowed upon the room. There was a part of you that wished Lemon was still here, that he could pull you apart but he left early that morning. And now, here you were, and all you could think about was his lips and that stupid fucking mustache-
You blinked, clearing the fog, and clearing your throat -backing up and standing to your feet.
Tangerine slowly came to the realization, the haze drifting out of his eyes, as they came to default onto yours -still intense but not as close. You could handle this.
"Anyway," you bit your lip, "-I'm kind of starved, do you... want anything?"
"Do I fuckin' want anythin'," he mumbled to himself for a moment -hands carefully putting the old bandage on the table and arranging all of the supplies so they wouldn't fall off.
And with a slow measured breath, he rose to his feet -steps teetering closer to you. His hands found solace in his hair as he rifled it up a bit, and on the cuff of his shirt -you saw a little blood. Was that from you? From your bandage-
"I've got somethin' in mind," he finally said, a little distant from you, but nothing like before (maybe just a few steps away from the closeness of the couch).
"Yeah, um," you cleared your throat, but it still felt dry, "-what do you... want? I think we've got like some... fancy tortilla chips and salsa, which... is a good one, or-"
He laughed a deep sort of low chuckle, erasing those steps you talked about before. You swallowed, words trailing off; there was a little spark in his eye when he noticed that you had -pride.
"You are really un-fuckin'-believable, you know 'at, love?"
"I think you've told me before."
He laughed at that, shaking his head, and you felt the breaths of each one scattered along your face -brushing onto your lips. You snapped your mouth closed at the thought.
Deep breaths, you thought to yourself, deep, deep breaths. You can do this.
Tangerine grew rather silent, before words seemed to bubble out of him without thinking, "You."
"What?"
"I want you, love," he clarified, "-in particular, I'd really love to fuckin' kiss ya right now, is 'at alright?"
"I didn't think you were the type to ask," you quipped, before you could really think about it, again.
He furrowed his eyebrows, a bit in defense.
"No, I mean-" you scrambled for a minute, "-you feel like the kinda guy that does it-"
"It?"
"-in like an emotional rush. You know? Like no words, just... just..."
Tangerine sighed, but you could see the quirk of a smile on his lips -you hadn't scared him off yet apparently.
"Sorry," you squeaked out, and you definitely saw a smile smooth across his lips.
"I'm fuckin' askin' ya, love. Say yes or no, yeah?"
"Yes," it came out in a rush of breath, a little like it clawed up your throat with desperation, "-yes."
Tangerine didn't hesitate a second longer, pushing forward with a force unmatched -big hands coming to cup your face at the hinge of your jaw. It was desperate, almost like he'd been waiting to do this awhile and the idea of that, made your breath catch.
You briefly wondered when it started, before he pushed into you further -hands righting themselves just below your ears on the back of your neck. He made you bump into the wall behind you. Tangerine promptly swallowed your squeak at the sensation, as easy as breathing.
Of course he was good at kissing too, your mind chimed, so unfair.
And then a more coy voice spoke up, but hey, he does want to kiss you though, I'd count that as a win.
Yeah, you decided as his mustache scratched ever so slightly at your upper lip and his hands dropped to your waist, definitely a win.
He pulled back a moment, breaths ragged and slow -eyes darting over yours, "Was good, yeah?"
You decidedly didn't answer him, pushing forward to kiss him again -this time a little slower, less rushed. He was just as slow, fingers holding your waist just slightly tighter like he didn't want you to leave.
Why the hell would I leave?
Tangerine was the one to part that time too, eyes slow to open like the kiss had affected him just as much. Your heart beat a little faster at that.
"Take that as a yes, yeah?"
"Oh, definitely," you laughed, hands coming to rest between his chest and shoulders.
He's strong too, your mind unwillingly retorted.
He didn't move, like he was simply absorbing your breaths and to be fair, you were pretty sure you were doing the same. He was nearly panting after all.
Words slipped out before you could stop them, "When I told you to borrow sugar, this was not what I was expecting."
Tangerine paused for a moment, gears working. Before his face flickered into something of annoyance, frown so prominent.
"Good god, fuckin' shut up, love."
"Make me," you offered, laughing.
And he certainly did.
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penny-anna · 6 months
Text
i bought a flat this week.
was off work sick last thursday/friday with what turned out to be the beginnings of a bad cold but at the time i was just like 'oh no why am i so tired is this the return of the Mystery Fatigue'
let's backtrack for a second!! back when i had the offer accepted on my flat my solicitor suggested october 6th as a move in date and i was like sure that works (this was around the beginning of september). then i didn't hear anything from them for many days and then i started getting major dry eye problems that became all consuming so i didn't get around to chasing them.
anyway!! tuesday last week i get an email from my solicitor like 'hi are you still able to complete friday' and i did not have the headspace to deal with it so i didn't reply
Wednesday my solicitor calls like 'hi. we need to know if you want to complete friday'. i'm like 'actually i'm really not feeling well this week, could we postpone'. she calls back a few minutes later like 'they cannot postone'. at this point i'm still thinking that if i get a decent night's sleep i'll feel better so i tell her i'll deal with it in the morning.
Thursday i feel spectacularly worse. have to get up to go to an appointment with my optometrist. almost start crying in their office bcos i'm just so exhausted. (he seemed weirdly unfazed by this?? looking back i wonder if he thought my eyes were hurting or something and didn't realise that i was holding back tears gfhglj) call out sick from work.
plan is to take a nap and then look at the documents my solicitor sent over but she calls me again like 'hi. sorry to bother you i know you're sick but can we complete today' so i'm like ah shit ig we're doing this now. please walk me through exactly what you need me to do here. 'we just need you to send us the money'. yeah i can do that. i've never made a payment this big before tho.
(i'm buying w money inherited from my mother so even for a flat purchase it's an unusually large amount of money)
'oh yeah you won't be able to that online. *pause* are you well enough to go to the bank?' i am tired enough that going to the bank will suck but not so sick i cannot go to the bank.
i had gone fully back to bed. spurred on by sudden wave of adrenaline, get out of bed and dressed and get the bus into town to the bank.
my bank closes at 3pm weekdays and by the time i get that it's about 1:45. explain the situation. turns out that to make a payment this big you need a sit-down meeting with a member of staff and they are booked solid till 3. 'can you come back tomorrow at 9:30 when we open' *dying inside* yes. i can come back tomorrow at 9:30.
go home. remember that i'd told my manager that i'd call her at 9 to let her know if i'm going to be working (i will defo not be working & she knows this) which will be tricky if i have to leave at 9 to go to the bank. have a pretty interminable IM conversation via microsoft teams about this wherein i suggest i message her first thing and call a bit later and she isn't going for it. eventually agree to call at 9 just so i can end the conversation and go to sleep.
Friday morning end up calling my manager from the bus. get to bank. whole thing takes a full 30 minutes so yeah i can see why they couldn't fit me in thursday afternoon ghfdljkfhdj. i'm so so tired. they have to go over a whole fraud prevention statement with you. 'you should be aware that scammers can pretend to be your solicitor'. me, exhausted: okay what if just this one time. a scammer is pretending to be my solicitor.
make the payment. go home to sleep finally.
later in the afternoon get another call from the solicitor. 'hi we have the keys you can come get them whenever'. oh yeah i'd been so caught up in trying to get them the money i'd kinda forgotten about. actually getting the flat.
(side note at no point was i planning to move in on 'moving day', an advantage of being a first time buyer is that i don't have to & i want to redecorate the place which is easier while it's empty)
initially say i'll come in next week but then realise that ideally next week i'll be back at work (i am not but anyway) so i might as well go now. it's pushing 4pm so will need to head out ASAP.
eyes are very dry and itchy from sleeping all day but fortunately i just (on a recommendation from my optometrist) bought a thing called a facial sauna which is a very weird contraption but does work extremely quickly.
pack my eye drops and also a peanut butter sandwich to eat in my new flat (why not) and go get the keys.
arrive at the flat. on inspection realise that the envelope i've been given seems to contain the most random assortment of loose keys. eventually identify an actual set of keys.
put my key in the lock of the flat door. abruptly hear a cat meowing, somewhere very close by.
previous owner had cats (plural) (i know this bcos i saw them when i was viewing the place). have a sudden moment of panic that i've somehow wildly misunderstood the whole situation and that she and her cats are still in residence.
look down. there is a very large, very fluffy white cat standing next to me, looking up at me as if expecting to be let in.
'you can't come in. this is my house.'
make my first mistake: think that if i open the door i will be able to prevent the cat from entering.
cat goes straight on into my flat.
i'm now pursuing the cat from room to room saying 'hey! hey you can't be in here! this is my house!'. the cat doesn't give a shit for obvious reasons (it is a cat)
i might have considered just shooing the cat outside and shutting the door but have arrived at an IMO not unreasonable concern. cat seemed very determined to enter this flat in particular and is now roaming around as if looking for something. previous owner had multiple cats and moved out AFAIK today. i have heard stories about people accidentally leaving cats behind when they move.
at this point it's 4:55 on a Friday. call my solicitor and explain the situation. ask if she could pass on a message to the seller's solicitor. unfortunately they have already closed for the week so it will have to wait till Monday but she will do her best.
decide the next course of action is to see if the cat has any ID. the cat is wearing a harness & collar so might have a tag with an address. make my second mistake: pick the cat up.
the cat does not have any ID on the harness. the cat does NOT like being picked up. cat gets very squirmy and then begins scratching me. cat manages to break my skin through a hoodie.
i put the cat down. the cat hisses at me. this is very rude considering that it is in my house.
head across the landing to see if the people opposite are missing a cat or, failing that, know their neighbours well enough to recognise the cat. there's no answer.
however!! i hear a voice down in the stairwell that sounds like it could be someone calling out a cat's name. 'hi!! is someone down there looking for a cat?' no answer.
look down the stairwell. on the ground floor there is a very large fluffy brown cat wearing a harness. !!!!! that is my cat's friend!
retrieve the cat from my flat (fortunately it just follows me out) and head downstairs. am met partway up by the cat's owner.
'oh thank god is this your cat'. it is her cat. apparently she had opened her front door to let them out into the garden and it had wandered off. 'i just moved in today it came into my flat'.
she is very apologetic. cat is unrepetent.
go back inside. call my solicitor's office. 'hi was it you i spoke to just now about the cat' (I told 2 people about the cat) 'no i just answered the phone because it was ringing. what cat.' 'can you tell *solicitor's name* that i have found the cat's owner. she will know what you mean'.
problem solved!! time to eat my peanut butter sandwich. :)
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lyraeon · 9 months
Text
A while back I learned something important from my therapist, and since I was trying to recount it anyway to share with a friend, I thought I would bring it to y'all as well.
We have all had at least one of those days where we've stayed up way too late doing something fun but we just don't want to stop doing it. Logically I figured that's just because "well yeah I don't want to stop, I have to go to sleep then to work and those suck compared to it."
Except then that starts happening often and you feel bad about always staying up every night, but then you feel worse and get more stressed because you know you're doing something you're "not supposed to", but because you're more stressed you want more fun time... endless cycle.
But as I was talking about it all and told her I thought I was self-sacrificing, the therapist had a very useful question for me:
"How do you normally know it's time to stop having fun? Like you know it's time to finish work because your shift's over, you know it's time to stop doing the dishes when they're all done or the washer's full, what is your signal to stop having fun?"
And I had to search for a while to answer.
"When the activity is done" - okay sure, but many games and books and series, or doing your own creative thing, "done" may take days upon days or even be non-existent.
"When I had to pass the controller" - obvious and easy one! If you knew you had a finite turn then the defined end is readily there, and you're also prepared for it! But requires pre-arranging the limits.
"When I got in trouble for it" - ding ding ding, we found the big problem.
When you grow up with "fun" being a forbidden activity you're only allowed to do after everything else is done to 100% perfection, then you learn to sneak it in where you can fit it. And you need that shit, seriously - you cannot get through life without some source of enjoyment, some tiny glimmer of joy among the tedium.
Many of us learned to read under the covers, or to play our gameboy in the bathroom and hide it under the sink, or that we could get away with running around the backyard for another 20 minutes if we just learned which intonation of "come inside" was the actual trouble line, or whatever other ways to cram in as much joy as we could before the hammer came down, for whatever severity that meant in your house.
And so that feeling of "I shouldn't be doing this, I'm going to get caught, but if I'm going to get in trouble anyway I might as well get as much out of this as I can" becomes part of what you expect to feel when you're having fun. And you only know how to stop having fun when you feel that way when you get in trouble for it - and in absence of anyone else controlling your behavior, that means the bad guy becomes either whatever task pops up to remind you responsibilities exist, or your significant other pointing out it's really late and they wish you'd come to bed, or your boss yelling at you for being tired all the time... or it becomes you.
If you don't learn that fun isn't a forbidden activity, if you stay stuck in the mindset that it's something you have to cram in in secret and hide that you're even doing? It becomes so so easy to hate the voice of reason in your head that's trying to encourage moderation and we're going to regret this tomorrow.
And that escalates. You keep being too tired the next day. You keep feeling even worse when you sit down to enjoy yourself the next night because now you're already tired, so stress gets to you faster, and now you feel guilty about how late you're staying up so you're not really enjoying playing your game or scrolling Tumblr or whatever anymore, you're just nervously glancing at the clock, "have I spent too long yet? How much longer can I do this before I get in trouble?"
Even though now you're in your 20s or 30s and it's been a decade since the last time anyone else told you it was bed time.
Learning that you're allowed to have fun isn't easy; guilt and shame are emotions that run very, very deep. And neither is learning to have a healthier relationship with saying "okay, that's enough for today".
For one, you have to stop threatening yourself. "Tomorrow is gonna suck" and "You're going to regret this" and "we're going to get in trouble at work" don't work. You already feel bad, you already know it's gonna suck, so why wouldn't you try to cram in one more hour now while it's not the day that's going to suck yet? Punishment is not incentive.
Because by now you're in a situation where sleep is a horrifying punishment that ends any fun, but you're not enjoying your fun anyway because you're tired all the time on top of feeling ashamed for doing something fun, and you're spending the entire time beating yourself up for being an idiot with no self control who can't even handle going to bed on time like a normal human being...
etc etc etc.
You will hear a lot of people give advice on how to get rid of the idea of having to "earn" sleep or fun or happiness by doing "enough" other things. To learn to accept that just being alive is enough reason to "deserve" to do those things. That will work for some people, but for others it just ends up one more thing to scold yourself about, especially when you're already in the habit not of denying yourself entirely but instead of doing it and feeling guilty the whole time.
But learning to set limits ahead of time, so that you're not anticipating some unknown time that a nebulous authority figure is going to finally have their horror monster timer run out and leap out at you but instead know when and what to expect? Holy shit it helped.
Don't get me wrong, it hella felt like depriving myself at first, like I was being grounded, and I looked at my phone beeping saying it was bedtime quite often and got annoyed.
But then I stopped treating fun as something that had to wait until the end of the day and everything else had to be done first. It is way easier to stare down sleep and go "I don't need you", especially if you have any kind of insomnia making the idea of being in bed a dreadful one on top of it. It is harder to say that about dinner, or calling a friend, or walking the dog. Plus then the day isn't over yet, so giving up on your fun isn't also accepting that as the defining moment of the end of your day!
So you have to start practicing looking for places to squeeze in a little more fun - "I've got an hour before dinner, that's perfect to make some tea and watch two episodes." "My favorite youtuber just put up a new video, why don't I take a break to watch it before I finish this homework?" "I need to go grocery shopping tomorrow anyway, and if I leave an hour early I could go kick around the bookstore first."
And once you do, fun starts to feel less shameful.
Don't get me wrong, if your issues run deep enough it still does sometimes. But when you get to have these moments of joy that you don't feel the need to hide or apologize for and where punishment isn't part of the routine, then fun stops feeling like something you have to dig your claws into for fear of having it taken away from you once someone catches you with it. And that means that finishing a level and glancing over at the clock is something you do because it actually managed to click a satisfaction switch in your head and you wondered if it was a good note to end on for now, instead of something you do with your breath held and the berating words already cycling in your mind.
I am not offering this advice expecting it to work for everyone or be easy or anything like that. I am someone with Depression, ADHD, and pretty severe PTSD sharing a technique that one therapist told me that really happened to click for and help me specifically, in case it might help someone else be a little nicer to themselves today, too.
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Bathtime conversations
𝑬𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
𝑪𝒘/𝑻𝒘: 𝒎𝒐𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒏 𝒂𝒖, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑
You sighed, as you walked into your shared appartment. Work at the office had been more grulling as yesterday, yet you were happy the day was over. As usal, your fiance was still working. She had started a job a week ago with the man that raised her up, Joel, at a new lumber company.
You would be lying if you said that you didn't go drop off her lunch sometimes just to see her lift some heavy wood. Slipping off your shoes and setting down your bag in its respective place, you made your way to the bathroom.
Deciding that you were gonna have a bath instead of a shower, you clogged the drain. As the bathtub started to fill you grabbed a new set of clothes and picked out a bath bomb that you knew would smell good. The basket was full thanks to Ellie's slight obsession with them.
Every time you would use one right after a bath she would always want force want to cuddle with you once she got home. It's not like you were irritated with it though, you could always work while she was sprawled on top of you. Playing your favorite playlist, you let out a sigh of relief as you slipped on your clothes and dipped into the bath.
The bath bomb fizzled as the water started to turn a nice pink pech shade, as the fizzling sound filled your ears. Your mind had drifted to Ellie, wondering if she would be working late again. For the past few days, she had to stay behind later than normal to help a few newbies trained and know what their job entailed. As you were in your thoughts, you missed the click from the front door.
Then, a soft knock sounded from the bathroom door.
"Can I come in?" Ellie asked.
You shouted back a yes as she entered the bathroom, her eyes scanned the room for a second. It was actually normal that the two of you had just walked in on each other like this, the both of you growing into that security in the relationship. You could tell she was tired as she sat down on the toliet seat.
Her shoulders were slightly hunched, and the eyebags were a little bit more prominent than normal. Well, something that was normal was her coming home later than normal. Maybe something happened at work?
"You ok? Normally you aren't home this late. But don't get me wrong, I love seeing you here!"
You rambled, as you intertwined your hands with each other. Ellie had shifted her attention from the spot she was looking at to you. She sighed, bringing your hand up to her lips to kiss it, despite it being wet.
"You used the peach bath bomb today?"
Ellie asked, a tired smile on her face She had looked more relaxed now at least, despite her still looking tired.
"Yeah. I needed one today, I swear the people at the office are going to put me on the ground or have wrinkles before I'm 30."
You ranted, using exaggerated hand movements to your point. As you continued to ramble, Ellie looked at you with a look of admiration. She had always loved these conversations with you, you talking while she listens.
"So, why are you here? Did something happen at work?"
She suddenly snapped back to reality, not realizing that she was spacing out while taking in your features. She turned her face away and puffed, as if a child would.
"Joel sent me home early because he thinks I'm, 'overworking myself' over training the newbies. He's also giving me tomorrow and Friday off, and I'll be so lonely without you."
Her expression had changed into a sad one, despite you detecting a hint of sarcasm in the last bit that she had said. She had also grabbed your hand that was dangling over the tub, playing with your fingers. Ellie continued to rant as she fiddled with the engagement ring that she had proposed with to you.
You remember it like it was yesterday. The both of you were on a vacation to [favorite country] just exploring the country there. Beforehand you didn't even know that she had saved up the money by getting another discrete job on the side + a little bit of Joel's help.
She had done it at sunrise, despite you being grumpy at the time due to getting woken up so early. She had guided you to a beautiful view, giddy with how it was going to turn out. When you had turned around and processed the situation, you had cried happy tears the whole time and the way back to the place you stayed.
The ring was simple, yet elegant in the perfect way.
"Do you wanna watch Spirited Away with me and get takeout?"
Ellie proceed what you said for a second before nodding, getting you a towel as she got up.
"I don't really mind what we eat, its up to you!"
You said, her nodding as she shut the door behind her. You knew, that you were going to have a comfortable, cozy evening with your favorite person in the whole world.
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peqchsoup · 1 year
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hi! i love your work! may I request #19 and #37 for tangerine?
Ahh thank you so much!!! I feel so blessed that someone actually sent a request and enjoys my work! I really hope you were referencing the bed prompts post because that's what I wrote and I love it (I will also write for prompt #37 at some point today or tomorrow, but for now here's Prompt #19!!
Prompt #19: "You were kidnapped and I won't let anyone else get to you again."
Hold Me Tight
Tangerine x fem!reader
TW: mentions of blood, violence, kidnapping, and implied r@pe
I didn't proofread this don't judge me
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You knew you should've trusted your gut. Something felt very off.
You were sitting at the bar of a fancy restaurant, waiting for the Twins. In the past two weeks, you worked on one of their longest jobs with them and it turned out to be a huge success. So, understandably, you wanted to celebrate. Tangerine chose Le Gavroche, one of the most expensive restaurants in London.
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You should've known that Tangerine wanted to do something expensive to celebrate. That's why you were looking at the menu for Le Gavroche on Tangerine's sofa, scoffing at the prices,
"£64 for Turbot? Are you mad?" Tangerine's head whipped round to look at you, Lemon giving you the 'take it back' eyes.
"Am I mad? I dunno, am I mad? Lemon, am I mad?"
"Don't bring me into this." Lemon went back to playing some kind of Thomas the Tank Engine game on his phone. Tangerine looked back at you,
"That job took weeks. Lemon nearly died, then I nearly died. So excuse me if I want to celebrate with some expensive food. I can't use this money when I'm dead, so I may as well use it now!"
You watched as Tangerine's eye twitched, his jaw wound tightly,
"All I'm saying is that I'm not paying £64 for a bit of fish!"
"Well I'll fucking pay for you, I'll buy the whole meal so no one gets upset. There, happy?"
"A bit, yeah," you muttered, and went back to looking at your phone. You should have realised that Tangerine would pay anyway, seeing as you were sitting in his £1.6 million townhouse in central London.
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So here you were, sipping your £30 glass of wine. When the bartender asked how you would be paying, you told him to open a tab under Tangerine's name and proceeded to recite his credit card details. You had those digits memorised a long time ago.
Tangerine wasn't a sugar daddy, per se, but he definitely had a sweet spot for you and if you wanted it, you usually got it. There was nothing romantic or even sexual about the nature of your relationship, he just couldn't resist your face. Which is why you were sitting at the bar in the black Rhode velvet midi dress with black Louboutin pumps and a Gucci canvas wrist pouch. Lemon and  Tangerine took you to Harrods earlier that afternoon and watched you try on at least 13 dresses with the Louboutins. You were finally going to have your own pair of red bottoms and you couldn't be more excited. Tangerine's materialistic personality really came in handy sometimes.
Once you had picked out your dress and bag, the Twins led you to the men's section to get themselves a new suit each. Lemon quickly picked out a simple black Burberry two-piece, tried it on, and was happy. Tangerine, however, pondered over more suits than you did dresses, and landed on a Gucci two-piece in burgundy. They each got a black Tom Ford silk tie to pull their outfits together, and to yours.
You couldn't wait to see them all dressed up in their new suits. Admittedly, you arrived early to the bar. But upon checking your watch, they were already 10 minutes late, and you hadn't heard anything from them. It was probably just that Tangerine was being too anal about his moustache looking perfect that they ran over. So, you took a photo of your glass of wine and sent it to the groupchat you shared with the brothers,
Got a tab started in your name already, T! And the more drunk I get, the more I like to spend…
When you sent that message, you were certain you'd get a speedy response. Tangerine didn't like you getting drunk when you were by yourself. The world was too dangerous and too many men would try to take advantage.
A few minutes passed and you had no response. It wasn't like them to not respond quickly. Lemon was attached to his phone most of the time, so you were certain he'd say something, at least. You wondered if your message hadn't sent to their phones, so you stepped outside to see if there was an issue with the signal inside the restaurant. You tapped your message in the chat and the little 'delivered' label popped up. So nothing was wrong with your phone. You stepped back inside to close the tab and headed off down the street attempting to flag down a cab to go to Tangerine's and see what was going on.
As you were waving down a cab, a black van quickly overtook it, cut it off and pulled up right in front of you. That was a bad sign.
You tried to start running but you had barely turned around before a guy grabbed you around your middle, covered your mouth to stop you from screaming, and dragged you into the side door of the van. It all happened so quickly that no one even seemed to see it happen.
There was another man who closed the side door of the van behind the man who dragged you in and no one else in the back of the van. It sounded like there was only one driver up front, though you couldn't be sure. Three men was doable. You had taken out more before. Although you were better prepared in previous circumstances.
You started to thrash against the man holding you from behind, kicking at the one binding your feet. The man holding you had his arms around your arms, holding them down to your sides so you couldn't hit either of them. The one binding your feet sent a startling hit to your cheek, knocking you near enough unconsciousness to let them get on with what they were doing. Having your hands and feet bound wasn't ideal, but it was a hell of a lot better than being unconscious. God only knows what they would do if you were out cold.
You had no idea how long you'd been travelling, and you had a feeling that the lack of windows in the back of the van meant that anyone back there wasn't supposed to know where they were or how far they travelled. The van came to a stop and you heard the click of the handbrake, meaning you had reached your destination. The man who initially grabbed you to put you in the van took hold of you and threw you over his shoulder, holding onto your legs so you wouldn't fall off. He stepped out of the van and into what appeared to be a barn. Probably on an abandoned farm in the middle of nowhere.
The man carrying you dropped you onto the ground with a thud and lifted you so you were on your knees in front of him, your hands tied behind your back. He stepped aside to reveal the leader of their gang; a tall man with a pistol held at his side.
"No offence, guy," you started, "but I have no clue who you are. Are you sure you have the right girl?"
He laughed and pointed the gun at your forehead.
"You may not know who I am, but I know exactly who you are. Lemon and Tangerine took my family from me, so I'm taking the closest thing they have to a family."
Oh.
OH.
This was happening. This was actually happening. You were going to die. You brain was going a million miles a minute. You'd never see Lemon and Tangerine ever again. You wouldn't get to tell them how much they meant to you. How much you loved Tangerine. Not that it mattered, you were going to die.
The gun clicked as the man cocked it, walking towards you and pressing the cold metal to your skin. You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for the end.
An bang rang out somewhere in the barn, your breath caught in your throat as you clenched your eyes closed tighter. You huffed out your breath quickly, breathing heavy when you realised it wasn't you who was dead, but the man who held the gun to your forehead. He lay motionless on the ground, blood pooling around his head. You looked up and there, directly in your line of sight 30 metres in front of you, were Lemon and Tangerine. They wielded huge guns and were wearing rain macs and rubber gloves and they just started blasting the gang members, somehow managing to avoid being shot themselves.
They mowed down the gang in minutes and came running over to you. Lemon started untying you whilst Tangerine threw his gun aside, dropped to his knees, and ripped his gloves off to hold your cheeks in his hands. He moved your face side to side, up and down before looking you directly in the eyes,
"Are you alright, love? You're not hurt, are you?"
You smiled at Tangerine's concern, feeling your hands and feet become free and rubbing your wrists to dull the ache of the friction burns from the rope, "I'm alright, T. I promise."
"I'm so so sorry we weren't at the restaurant in time." He looked genuinely guilty that him and his brother weren't around to keep you safe. The Twins helped you to your feet and Lemon pulled you into a hug. You leaned your head against his chest, listening to his heart while he explained,
"They sent guys to Tangerine's house to slow us down so they had a chance to get you. I'm so sorry, sweetheart."
"Hey, it's okay," Your voice was soft, "You found me and you saved me. I owe you both my life."
"You don't owe us nothing, darling."
You lifted your head to look at Tangerine, though still in Lemon's embrace. You noticed through their transparent rain macs that they were wearing their dinner suits.
"How did you find me?"
Tangerine smirked solemnly, "I guess your kidnappers weren't smart enough to turn your phone off. You still have your location shared with us." Tangerine lifted his phone to display the dot your phone made on the map.
"Oh, Tan." You left Lemon's arms and wrapped your arms around Tangerine's neck, pulling him close to you in a hug. He wasn't normally one for hugging, that was more his brother's style, but he quickly untensed and lifted his arms to put them around you. He placed his head on top of yours, giving a small kiss to the top of your head.
Lemon walked over and put a hand on your shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze, "let's get you home."
The drive home was peaceful. Tangerine drove while Lemon sat in the back with you, comforting you when he noticed you visibly shaking. He stroked your hair and shushed gently when he could hear you whimper.
Tangerine watched in the rear view mirror every now and then, vowing to himself that, from this moment, he would never let you out of his sight ever again. That meant he wasn't driving you back to your flat. No, absolutely not. He was taking you to his home where you would live from that day forward. You already had your own bedroom there for jobs that finished late at night, as did Lemon. Tangerine couldn't see any reason for you not to live there with him.
It was deep into the night when you got back to Tangerine's house. Lemon walked to his room and Tangerine led you to his where he undressed and slipped on a pair of pyjama pants before he helped you take off your dress and found one of his t shirts for you to wear. There were no boundaries between you and the Twins these days. You had known them for long enough and had done so many jobs with them where you had to change in front of each other that it wasn't a big deal anymore.
"Goodnight, Tangerine. Thank you again." You said quietly, shuffling towards the bedroom door to leave and go to your own room.
"Where are you going?"
"To bed." "You’re sleeping in here tonight, love."
"Why?"
"Why? You were kidnapped, love, and I won't let anyone else get to you again. I don't want you leaving my sight."
You smiled and shuffled towards Tangerine's bed, climbing under the cover and shuffling close to the wall so he had plenty of room. He lay down and pulled you close to him and you put your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as it slowly lulled you to sleep.
"This alright, darling?"
You smiled, warmed by him asking for consent to just hold you. He was so polite.
"Mhm, goodnight Tangerine."
"Goodnight sweetheart."
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grumelot123 · 1 month
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Part 14 of "I'm trying so hard to hate you"
Crowley Pov
As we walked in we saw a very...messy sight in Anathemas kitchen. There were papers scattered all around her along with the book of prophecies, a cup of coffee, her phone, a laptop, along with pencils, pens, and highlighters.
"Well it seems you've started the fun without us."
Seconds later i feel a jab into the right side of my stomach, which was Aziraphales way of telling me to shut the fuck up.
"Yea, well, I wanted to figure out what this message meant and you guys both took way to long so I've started doing a bit of...research."
"Research? What kind of- Actually no first show us the message, I'm sure me and Crowley may have an idea of what he meant." Aziraphale said, very fast, sort of mumbling, but he was in deep thought already.
But Anathema seemed to understand because she started walking to her living room.
We followed behind her to see the words:
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺.
𝘋𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘺.
"A fucking riddle? We are going to be here for a while." I groaned throwing my head back.
"Let's have a sleepover!"
"Absolutely fucking not" I said letting the ''t'' pop.
Anathema laughed. "Come on, the world might end in 2 days, lets make the most of it."
"Sure, why not?" Aziraphale said.
'Why are you taking her side?!" I whined.
"Because Crowley, we are going to be here most of our night anyways, might as well just stay over while were at it."
I can't say no to him.
"Fine."
*30 minutes later*
Now we are all in the kitchen, with our phones, books, paper, pens, and pencils scattered amoung us.
"Oh my gosh. Crowley we are so dumb."
"Whadya mean?"
" 'The bench where the world was swapped' Is talking about where we swapped the last time the world was going to end."
"Are you fucking kidding me?!? We took hours. HOURS. to research through all of these books for NO REASON?!"
I yelled, sounding quite angry because I was! I spent hours searching for something we already had the answer to, when I could've been spending it hanging out with my angel? Ugh and now we are spending the night at Anathema's and I do not care for it.
"Crowley dear, how about we go to the living room and talk, yeah?"
"Hm..okay."
I followed him to the living room, while Anathema chuckled as I sauntered away.
As I walked into the living room, Aziraphale shut the door and locked it behind us, when I turned towards him he was looking at me, with an almost look in his eyes? Concern, no-, love.
"Ok, I know you're mad but let's make a deal, so you know we have 3 days till the day before armageddon which is when we go through with this plan, right?"
Where was he going with this?
"Yea..."
"Ok so, tonight we stay here, then tomorrow we wake up bright and early, and we find Adam, after we find him we help him get control of his powers temporarily, then we go back to the hotel, we then have a day and a half to just be with each other and do whatever, only me and you, ok?"
"Ok..but-"
I was ready to whine about it but instead I was cut off with his lips smashing into mine. He was grabbing me by the edges of my jacket as if I were going to stop him from kissing me, but instead I was melting into the kiss. It was intoxicating, in the best way possible. I was honestly ready to fuck him right then and there, but he let go suddenly and I started to complain and bring him back for more but he shushed me.
"Behave, and you'll get more later, okay?"
"But Aziraph-"
This bitch ignored me and walked back to the kitchen.
I'm in for a long night....
PART 14 FINISHED!
Part 15 is gonna be abt the whole sleepover ordeal Lmaoo
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butterrats · 3 months
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ATTENTION 2012 TMNT FANBASE I HAVE A PSA
I love 2012 Donnie
I severely dislike 2012 April, one could say I hate her.
I am allowed to have my own opinions on these not-real-people characters because it. Is. A. Cartoon.
No, I am not a misogynist because I hate 2012 April. I actually love literally all five female characters they put in the show except her (Wow writers...) I'm a fucking feminist lesbian. Disliking a female character does not make you a misogynist. I honestly think a lot of her slander is undeserved, but I'd be a goddamn liar if I didn't say I kinda (ok I love it) enjoy participating in it. HOWEVER, I do not think she is a bad person. Is she snippy, rude, entitled, and kinda a brat in my eyes? Yeah, no dip. Do I think she's evil and intentionally trying to seduce every guy she sees into being her man slave? Uh no. I think she's annoying and I dislike her, but I don't want her to burn in hell. I want what I want for every character I see on a show: *clears throat* OWNING UP TO THEIR SHIT AND CHANGING FOR THE BETTER AND NOT BEING A MARY SUE AND MANY OTHER THINGS I DON'T FEEL LIKE GETTING INTO AT 11:30 PM. This goes for literally all the characters on the show. I wanna see Donnie and Casey apologize to April for being weird with her, AND I want April to apologize to them for being weird with them. THEY ALL DESERVED BETTER. They all could have developed amazingly if the writers didn't stick their heads up their asses and spew whatever shit they inhaled onto the script. I have so many other examples of this: I want Splinter to realize the generational trauma he's inflicting on his sons, Karai developing her relationships with all her brothers, Casey going into his backstory, insert other example.
No, I am not encouraging "nice guy" behavior by loving on Donnie. Oh wow, a kid with zero social interaction outside of his three brothers an strict dad gets weirdly obsessed with the first person he develops romantic feelings for? Who could've seen that coming? He should have left her alone when she wanted to be left alone and given her space, yes, but goddamn people, these characters are children. They're always making dumb choices. It's TEENAGE mutant ninja turtles. My boy never once tried to force himself on this girl. Never tried turning her no into a yes. Never wanted her to do anything she wasn't okay with. He's not a "nice guy" or an "incel" or a "stalker" he's a smart boy who made some very dumb choices. So did literally every other character in the goddamn show. You wanna talk creepy? Leo knowingly had the hots for his motherfudging sister but that's a whole 'nother can of worms I ain't touching tonight baby. I just personally think Donnie has so many more redeeming qualities to his character. Honestly, in my opinion, his apology to April was good enough for me. Not perfect by any means, but good enough. Donnie is literally one of the only characters who quickly owns up when he messes up, I think that' worth something considering the characters. Honestly, Donnie is a sweetheart, super smart, sassy, and fun to watch, and I think his qualities outweigh his flaws, unlike how I feel about April. (How I feel about her.)
My morality should not be called into question when I have an opinion on a fictional character for fuck's sake. This franchise is beloved, BELOVE IT. Have your opinions, love April, hate April, love Donnie, hate Donnie, just enjoy yourselves (except you, Tcesters, stay the fuck away from me and my son.) These characters aren't perfect, they're flawed, they're young, they're children. It's not their fault they were written like shit. They're ALL good people at the end of the day.
I hate 2012 April's guts and I love 2012 Donnie to death. But that doesn't mean you have to as well. LOVE YOUR CHARACTERS.
Holy jumping Jesus on a hoagie sandwich why did I waste an hour of my life writing this? I need to get to bed, I have work tomorrow. Anyways, hope this gets to someone who needs it, love yourself, love characters, don't fucking ship siblings, eat your homework, and enjoy your life. Love you <3
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kinanabinks · 2 years
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Biker Blood 🏍 P3
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18+
A second date with Steve comes quicker than you expected it to, and it doesn't end at all how you predict.
Content Warning: Biker!Steve x Neighbor!Reader, mature themes, angst, mention of a dead parent, fluff, sexual tension, smut (kissing, dry humping, daddy kink, dom!steve).
Series Masterlist
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Rogers
Lonely n thinking of a pretty girl.
You
Feel bad for the girl.
Rogers
What are you thinking of right now?
You
Right now?
This schedule on my desk.
Rogers
Forget about that, fif
Come see me during your lunch break
Got something to show ya
"Y/N, you done with that PR schedule?" John asks, pulling your attention from your phone. He rolls his eyes when he sees what you're doing, leaning against the doorframe. "I don't wanna have to reprimand you for being on your phone during work hours."
"So, don't," You say, putting your phone down. "I'm almost done; I'll drop it off to Lemar once it's ready for you to sign off on."
He slowly nods before making his way into your office, closing the door behind him. "Got any lunch plans?"
You glance down at your phone which is still displaying your text conversation, before looking back up at John. "Yeah, actually," You tell him while typing your reply to Steve.
You
No, thanks.
"For real?" John asks you. "Was hoping I could take you out to Guigino's."
"Really?" You question, raising a brow. "What for?"
He shrugs, walking over to sit opposite you. "Thought it'd be nice. You know, Y/N and John, eating Italian and shooting the shit. Having a good time."
Your phone buzzes with a text, and you open it while replying to John. "Sorry to disappoint," You say absentmindedly. "Maybe tomorrow?"
Rogers
You're breaking my heart, baby
I wanna see you.
"Ah, it's alright," John assures you before leaning forward. "How about dinner tonight, instead?"
Putting down your phone, you sigh. "John, we've been through this before. Many, many times."
"What?" He asks between laughs.
"Stop asking me out," You say sternly. "It's just embarrassing for us both when I have to turn you down."
"I'm not asking you out!" He claims, holding his hands up in surrender. "Is it a crime for two people who work together to go for dinner? And what's the difference between lunch and dinner?"
"The difference is that you ask me to come over to your place after dinner so you can fuck me and then fire me, just like you did to Lois," You tell him, clenching your hands into fists. "All I'm asking for is that you show me respect. I am not just something pretty for you to look at. Something for you to lust after. Something for you to win. I am your equal. I work for you, sure, but do not ever think that that means I'm subordinate to you. Do you understand me, John?"
Taken aback, he lets out a quick breath and nods. "Understood," He utters, and you can tell that it's almost painful for him to say it. With that, he stands up and makes his way to the door. "I'll, uh, be waiting on that schedule."
"It'll be ready before lunch," You mutter, looking back down at it.
He goes to leave, but it's as though something pulls him back. Resting his fist on the doorframe, he looks back at you. "For what it's worth, I didn't fire Lois because of our personal relationship. She was my campaign manager; I no longer had any need for her."
Holding back your eye roll, you purse your lips. "However you wanna see it, John."
Once he's gone, you pick up your phone and reply to Steve.
You
Be ready in 30
I'm taking you out for sushi
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"This stuff," Steve begins, waving a thin slice of pickled ginger between his chop sticks. "Is like fucking crack."
You laugh heartily at him, swallowing your bite before replying. "Have you ever done actual crack?"
That makes him smirk as he leans forward. "Why? You think just 'cuz I'm a biker, I smoke crack?"
"I mean, Uncle Vinnie did every drug under the fuckin' sun," You tell him, grinning. "So, yeah."
Steve shakes his head, smiling nonetheless. "Have you ever smoked crack?"
"Never," You say truthfully. "But, I have, uh..." Trailing off, you tap your nose a few times, hoping he'll get the hint.
"Really?" He asks with bright eyes.
"Vin never let me make a habit of it, though," You tell him between laughs. "Only on special occasions."
Sighing, Steve looks down at the sushi platter. "Man, Old Vinnie must've been the coolest uncle."
"He was!" You confirm, your heart warming before you frown. "Did you ever meet him?"
He takes a sip of sake before meeting your eyes. "Nah, not properly. I've been in the same room as him, though," He tells you proudly. "Must've been over a decade ago. I was probably around fifteen. My dad took me to a meeting in some bar in Detroit; something to do with the distribution of, uh..." He trails off before tapping his nose and shooting you a wink. "The good stuff."
"Ah," You say, nodding.
"Vinnie was striking up a deal with my dad," Steve goes on to say. "I remember being awe-struck by him. At the end of it, a woman started singing. My dad and the others left, but I stuck behind to listen. She was beautiful; couldn't take my eyes off her. Vinnie goes up to her and requests a song, and it's my favorite. I remember feeling like the stars had aligned, or some sappy shit like that. You ever feel like that? Like it's too perfect to just be a coincidence?"
With your heart thudding, you swallow thickly. "What the was song?"
Steve smiles at you. "Cowboy, Take Me Away."
You bite your lip, blinking hard. "That- uh, that was my mom. She sang at Vinnie's bar."
His face drops as he's taken aback. "Really?"
Nodding, you clench your hand into a fist as you desperately try not to cry. "She always wanted to be a singer, but life got in the way. When they found the tumor in her brain... they told us she didn't have long. So, Vinnie built a stage in his bar and for that last year of her life, Mom was a singer."
Utterly shocked into silence, Steve reaches out to place his hand on yours, gently stroking it.
"Nobody else ever sang in that bar, before or after her," You inform him with a small smile. "You're lucky you got to watch her perform. Not many people have the privilege to say that."
"I am lucky," He agrees, his pretty eyes growing glossy. "I'm so sorry, fif."
"It's okay," You whisper, shaking your head and sitting up. "Come, sit next to me?"
Happily, he gets up to sit on your side of the booth, immediately wrapping his arm around you. You rest your head on his chest, allowing his rhythmic heartbeat to soothe you.
"Do you remember anything else about her?" You ask him softly.
He smiles and kisses the top of your head. "She was wearing a blue dress. It went all the way to the floor, and had little embroidered sunflowers all over it."
Gasping, you grab onto his hand. "I remember that dress."
"Yeah, that dress," He reminisces warmly. "Her eyes were pretty, and I remember her pink lipstick. I figured she must've been famous, or somethin', the way she looked so confident on that stage."
"I can't believe you had a crush on my mom," You tease him lowly, lightly poking his stomach.
"I did not have a crush on her," He adamantly defends himself. "I was just casually admiring her talent, that's all. And I fuckin' loved that song."
Laughing, you play with the zip of his jacket. "I might've even been in the bar that day. Isn't that so weird to think about?"
"That is weird," He agrees with a mumble. "To think, we could've met over ten years ago."
"We could've walked past each other. Maybe we did," You wonder. "Or maybe you sat in my regular seat without even knowing it. Maybe we drank from the same glass."
"The stars aligned," Steve utters, stroking your hair.
"Perfect coincidence," You add lowly. After a few blissful moments of silence pass, you look up at him. "Do you believe in that stuff? Fate, destiny?"
He thinks on it for a little while, sitting back while taking a long sip from his cup. "Honestly, I don't know. But I like to think that whatever's meant to be, will be."
"Really?" You ask, turning your body to him. "That's a sweet way of looking at it."
Smirking, he shrugs. "What can I say, baby? I'm a sweetheart."
"Idiot," You huff, laughing softly before looking over at the table. "Are you gonna eat some more?"
Letting out a breath, Steve pats his stomach. "I'm full as fuck, baby, go ahead."
"I'm full, too," You say, before smiling at a waiter to get him to come over. Thankfully, it works. "Could we get the bill, please?"
"Of course, ma'am," The waiter replies politely before rushing away again.
When you see Steve reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet, you grip his forearm tightly. "Don't," You order him sternly. "Lunch is on me."
Immediately, he snorts. "That's nice of you, baby, but honestly, don't worry about it-"
"Rogers, don't you dare take out your wallet," You warn him through gritted teeth. "I told you I was taking you out for lunch."
"Absolutely not," He argues, sitting up. "I told you that you wouldn't have to worry-"
"I'm not worrying; I'm treating you to lunch, like I said I would," You cut him off firmly, tightening your grip on his arm. "Besides, it's not like this was a date. It was just a nice meal."
He raises a brow at that. "You can't just call this not a date, fif," He states. "You can't just make up whatever rules you want."
"I'm not making up anything," You say with a frown. "The next time you take me on a date, you have my full permission to pay. This is on me."
"Fif-"
"Please, do not test me today, Rogers," You say coldly, glaring at him.
Realizing that you're being deadly serious, he pulls back. "Alright, fifty-three. Whatever you want," He gives in, even though it almost kills him as he watches you scan your credit card.
"See how easy that was?" You ask, before softening when you see the tense look on his face. Sighing, you cup his cheek gently, giving him a smile. "Thank you, Steve. I appreciate that that was difficult for you. Thank you for respecting my wishes, and me."
"Always," He replies. "Just don't ever make me do that again, you little shit."
Laughing, you lean forward and kiss his cheek. "You'll get used to it, sweetheart."
Hoping you don't notice the way his face heats up at the nickname, he clears his throat. "You gotta go back to work soon?" He asks you. "Or have you got some time to come over to my place?"
Usually, you'd be disgusted at the invitation back to his house - but you know that Steve knows better by now than to have vulgar intentions behind his words.
"Nah, I'm not going back yet," You tell him, even though your lunch break ended ten minutes ago. "Fuck him. He pissed me off today so he can deal with me bunking off for a little while."
Frowning, Steve takes your hand in his. "What did he do?"
Shaking your head, you pat his knee. "Doesn't matter."
"Did he upset you?" He questions, already irritated.
"Oh, please; Walker wishes he mattered enough to me to upset me," You say with a scoff. "No, he was just... being unprofessional."
Your vague wording doesn't help pacify Steve at all, whose mind is currently racing with bad thoughts. Clenching his jaw, he lowers his voice. "Did he touch you?"
"God, Steve!"
"Did he?" He asks you gravely.
"You think he'd still be alive?" You ask him incredulously. "After touching a fuckin' Drifter?"
He lets out a breath, slight relief filling him.
"You don't have to worry about your girl, Steve," You assure him. "I can take care of myself just fine."
Slowly, a smirk pulls at his lips. "My girl, huh?"
You roll your eyes and let go of his hand. "Slip of the tongue," You mutter, turning away from him.
He rests his chin on your shoulder, bringing his lips to your ear. "How about you slip your tongue... in my mouth?"
Snorting, you push his shoulder. "Too much sake for you, big boy; getting ahead of yourself, there."
"I'm sober, actually, and I'm not ahead of nothin'," Steve claims boldly, placing his arm around your waist and pulling you closer. "Just wanna kiss."
"Well, tough luck, honey," You say, meeting his eyes. "I don't kiss on the second date."
Confusion swims in his eyes before they suddenly widen. "So, this was a date! I knew it! You lied to me."
"It only just became one," You declare. "It wasn't a date before."
"What the fuck changed?" He asks with a frown. "And why do you kiss on the first date and not the second? Sweet Jesus, you're gonna kill me."
Patting his shoulder, you grin. "Come on, cowboy. Take me away. Let's get out of here."
"Don't," He warns, pointing at you. "You know what that song does to me, fif."
"Can we just- come on, Steve, take me back to yours, already," You implore, standing up.
"So she don't kiss on the first date, but she'll happily come home with me," He mutters to himself as he, too, stands up.
"Shut the fuck up, Rog, you know damn well ain't nothing happening at your place," You tell him with narrow eyes while he places a hand on your lower back and leads you out of the restaurant. "I'm just intrigued to see what it is you've got for me."
He chuckles at that, taking you over to his bike. "Come on, fiffy," He says softly. "Let's get the fuck home."
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You haven't been in Steve's home since the night he beat Ben up for you, and it looks very different during the day. It's a lot cleaner when there isn't a party being thrown, and you're pleasantly surprised.
"Nice place," You comment with a mutter, looking around the hallway while he shuts the front door.
"Thanks, fif," He replies, patting your lower back before taking your hand in his. "Come upstairs; that's where your surprise is."
Raising a brow, you plant your feet firmly on the ground. "You're walking on thin ice, Rog," You warn him.
Immediately, he laughs. "I'm not taking you to my bedroom, fifty-three, I swear," He promises, holding his free hand up and bringing your hand to his chest. "Biker's honor, babe."
With an eye-roll, you shrug. "Fine. But if you take off a single piece of clothing-"
"I am staying fully clothed-"
"And if you call me babe again," You finish coldly. "It won't be pretty, Rogers."
"Alright, alright," He says, pulling you to the stairs. "So dramatic."
"Heard that," You grumble, trudging up the stairs behind him.
Once you're upstairs, he takes you through the first door on the left. It's filled with memorabilia, most of it belonging to his gang. Worn and torn jackets with the Howling Commandos logo sewn on the back, old guns and daggers hung up on the walls, an out-of-use bike leaning against the wall, and a plethora of other tokens and trophies.
"Nice," You whisper, looking around with wide eyes. "This is incredible. How old is some of this shit?"
Picking up a gun from the wall, he smirks. "1902."
"Really?" You ask, gently taking it from him with awe. "Holy fuck." Walking further into the room, you spot a table on which there are photographs, old and new. There are a few of Steve with his friends, some you recognize and some you don't. When you see a photo of him looking cozy with a pretty brunette, you raise a brow. "Who's she?"
He comes over and glances down at it. "That's Peggy," He tells you . "My ex-wife."
Your face drops as you turn to him. "Seriously?"
Immediately, Steve snorts and shakes his head. "Nah, I'm kidding. She's an old friend; lived here for a little while before moving back to England."
"Just a friend?" You press curiously.
"Just a friend," He confirms, smirking at you. "Nothin' ever happened between us."
"Nothing?" You repeat, in slight disbelief when you see how close they're standing in the photograph.
"Absolutely nothing," Steve says plainly, before resting his hands on his hips as a thoughtful look overtakes his face. "Well, there might've been a kiss one night..."
"She came all this way, befriended you, and only ever shared a single kiss with you?" You ask him incredulously.
"Why?" He questions with a wink. "You're in disbelief, huh? Can't fathom how a woman could possibly resist me?"
Rolling your eyes, you nod. "Somethin' like that."
"Well, all you've given me is a kiss," He says pointedly.
"Well, I'm not planning on moving to England anytime soon," You shoot back.
"Good," He utters lowly, moving closer to you and placing a hand on your waist. "'Cuz I'd miss you an awful lot, fif."
Tracing the tattoos on his forearm, you look up at him. "As much as you miss Peggy?"
His lips pull up and he leans down towards you, whispering, "So much more, baby."
Dangerously close to doing something stupid like falling for his bullshit, you pull back and clear your throat. "What was it you brought me up here for, anyway, besides ancient guns and British broads?"
His eyes light up with recollection. Letting go of your waist, he walks over to a shelf. "That night by the lake, when you told me who your uncle was, it got me thinking," He begins, shuffling around in a box. "I remembered that time I saw him at his bar - when I watched your ma sing - and I saw he was carving something outta wood."
A soft smile grows on your lips. "Yeah, Vin whittled a lot."
"I just thought it looked cool, so when I stayed behind to listen to your mom..." A tinge of nervousness dances in his voice as he turns to you sheepishly. "I stole his dagger."
Your jaw drops and your eyes widen. "You did what?"
His cheeks redden as he shows it to you, and there it is. Vinnie's old dagger in all its glory, with his initials carved on the handle and all. You quickly rush over and take it from him, bewildered by the rush of nostalgia that hits you like a wave.
"Holy shit," You whisper, before looking up at him with narrow eyes. "I oughta break your hands for stealing from him."
He chuckles softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I figured it would mean a lot more to you."
Smiling, you pat his shoulder. "Thank you, Rogers. I really appreciate this. I didn't bring much of Detroit with me here, so it feels good to have something... something of his."
Pulling you closer, Steve places a gentle kiss to your forehead before wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.
"Fuck's sake, Rog," You grumble against his chest.
"What's wrong, fif?" He asks with slight concern.
Sighing, you lift your head up to look at him. "You're making it really hard for me to stop myself from kissing you."
A smile breaks out on his lips. "So, don't stop yourself."
"I... I can't," You whisper, wincing.
"Why not?" He asks with a mumble.
"'Cuz... then we've kissed twice," You explain. "And that's a whole lot more than just once."
A spark blooms in his eyes, and for a second you're filled with dread as you expect him to say something utterly horrific that'll turn you off again. "There's nothing wrong with more, fif," He tells you gently, resting his hands on your waist. "Whenever you're ready, you can give me as much as you want, and all I can do is promise I'll never do anything to make you regret it."
Fuck. He makes playing hard-to-get impossible.
"You're beautiful," He adds like an afterthought as one of his hands come up to cup your face.
Blinking, you let out a breathy laugh. "You mean that, or do you just want a kiss?"
"The two aren't mutually exclusive," Steve mutters, staring at your mouth. "I mean it. And I really wanna kiss you."
With no strength left to reject him, you close your eyes. "Fuck it." With that, you lean up and kiss him, and you're so glad that you do. It's somehow more electric than the first kiss you shared under the moonlight.
His hand lowers to your throat, on which he keeps a firm but gentle grip. Your hands move up to run through his soft hair, pulling and playing with his locks. Your tongues collide and dance with familiarity and raw connection, every inch of your skin lighting up with excitement.
After a few moments, you pull back, your eyes flickering up to his. You take in a few deep breaths, grabbing a fistful of his shirt in your hand. His eyes search yours for a hint of regret or fear, but they find none.
"I should... probably get back to work," You manage to say lowly once you've caught your breath.
"Do you have to?" Steve asks you in a hushed tone.
Suppressing a laugh, you nod. "Walker will kill me if I don't."
"Not if I get to him first," He retorts gruffly.
Rolling your eyes at his machismo, you hold the dagger up to his chest, making sure not to press it too hard. "Why don't you just relax and keep on looking pretty, huh?"
Light irritation flashes across his eyes before he slowly wraps his hand around your neck. In retaliation, you move the dagger up to his neck, narrowing your glare.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Rogers?" You ask him gravely.
Smirking, he takes a step forward, forcing your back to hit the wall. Steve then leans closer, unbothered by the blade against his throat. "Little girls like you shouldn't try to act so big and mean," He mumbles, gradually tightening his grip. "Though I have to say, it's so much fun watching you try."
Rendered speechless, you stare up at him, your mind going blank.
"Mmm, all quiet and shy for me now?" He teases you lowly, pressing his body against yours. You can feel his dick hardening against your stomach, making your thighs squeeze together. "Wanna be a good girl for daddy?"
All you can muster is a whimper in response. Damn it, woman. Get your shit together.
"Aw, baby," Steve coos, his eyes lighting up. "You can speak. You have my permission."
You can't decide if you want to punch him or kiss him - but when he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your neck, all you can think of is letting him do and say whatever the fuck he wants to you.
"You don't have to be scared, baby," He whispers against your ear while stroking your jaw with a feather-light touch. "Daddy's got you. You can say whatever you want."
You part your lips and let out a soft moan when he grinds his boner into your crotch, making you gasp.
"That's it, baby, talk to me," He coaxes you softly, kissing your neck. "Tell daddy what you want."
Taking in a deep breath, you drop the dagger and cling onto his shirt. "Daddy."
Steve bites his lip as the name finally escapes your mouth, pushing his dick harder against you. "That's it, baby. Keep going."
"Kiss me," You implore weakly, desperate for him.
Chuckling, he pulls away from your neck before resting his forehead against yours. "You want a kiss, little baby?"
"Please," You cry, bucking your hips up and gasping when you feel his cock push back.
"Such a sweet girl," He mumbles before finally leaning in and kissing you. It's soft and sweet, but also wet and sinful. You feel taken over by your arousal, in a cloud of pleasure as he sucks on your tongue and squeezes your ass in his big hand.
Steve continues grinding against you, even going so far as to lift up your legs so he can spread them apart and slot himself between them. His groans pour into your mouth as your back hits the wall, the pain overshadowed by your pleasure.
"Fuck," He growls between sloppy kisses while your pussy throbs incessantly. "That feel good?"
"So good," You whine, digging your nails into his shoulders.
"Tell me who's making you feel good, baby," Steve orders you. "Say it."
"Daddy," You cry. "Daddy's making me feel so good."
"That's fuckin' right," He grunts, slowing down. "Good girl."
With that, he crashes his lips back onto yours, gradually ceasing his movements against your hips which makes you mewl feebly. He puts your legs back on the ground, placing his hands on your waist before pulling away from the kiss.
Lowering his voice to a whisper, he gives you a sordid smile. "You should get back to work, fif."
Your face drops. Along with your stomach. And your mood.
"Huh?" You ask incredulously. Is he being serious right now?
All he does is smile innocently, letting go of your body and taking a step back.
"Oh," You scoff, baffled. "You really wanna be a tease right now?"
"I'm not being a tease," He claims though the smirk on his lips says otherwise. "I'm just conscious of your job."
How fucking dare he?
"Oh, Rogers," You say once you've regained some composure, bending down to pick up the dagger before pointing it at him. "You have no idea what you've done. What you've started."
He raises a brow in intrigue, folding his arms across his broad chest. "Is that right, fifty-three?"
"You're gonna regret doing that," You warn him, slowly walking back over to the door. "Very much." With that, you exit the room, leaving him alone to reel.
"Fuck me," He whispers, looking down at his boner. "Sorry, big guy. Looks like she's only gonna make this even harder." Glancing back up at where you once stood, he can't help but break out into a wide smile. "But damn, if we don't love the chase."
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hehe. sorry if steve's small aside to his penis gave you p*m and t*mmy flashbacks
part four >>
side blog for update notifications: @kinanabinksupdates
if you enjoy my work, please buy me a kofi! <3
1K notes · View notes
justagalwhowrites · 2 months
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Yearling Chapter 30 Teaser
I'm not sure when this will be wrapped. Maybe Thursday? I've got a pretty full night tomorrow and Wednesday is Valentine's Day. We'll see how it shakes out!
“Ellie,” you took her shoulders and made her actually face you. “It will be OK. Might be awkward for a bit but it’s not the end of the world. I promise. You can talk to her. She’s your friend for a reason and it’s because you’re kind and you’re smart and you’re funny. Even without the help of Will Livingston. None of that shit changes just because you kissed. Alright?”  “Yeah,” she said, dropping her head to your shoulder with a heavy sigh. You put your arms around her and gave her a little squeeze but when she pulled back from you, her eyes were narrowed. “You’re in a weirdly good mood.”  You frowned.  “No I’m not.”  “Uh yeah, you are,” she said, stepping back and looking you up and down as though she she were inspecting you. You just raised your eyebrows at her, expectant, when her mouth dropped open for a moment before she shifting to a shit eating grin.  “Ellie…”  “You fucked Joel!”  “We need to have another conversation about the fact that what happens between my legs is none of your business,” you muttered, turning her around to head back toward the stable.  “No we don’t,” she said. “This is great, you two have been so depressing the last few months…”  “We have not!”  “Please,” she rolled her eyes. “You were basically dead for weeks and Joel barely left the house for who knows how long.”  “That… was less recent,” you said. “And it’s not your job to worry about us so let’s just…” you stopped just short of the stable doors. “How did you know?”  “Know what?”  “About…” you lowered your voice. “Joel. Not that I’m admitting to anything.”  She smirked.  “That coat’s been hanging in his front closet since you left.” You looked down at yourself and groaned. Her cocky smile grew. “You wanted the coat again. Bingo.” 
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kindnessisweakness2 · 8 months
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4
Emily signed the paperwork and much to the disappointment of Jax that was the last time he had seen or heard from her in a week. He didn't know what it was but his head was full of her. She was a fucking pocket rocket for sure. She handled Noah, put that crow eater in line without using her fists and shot David Hale down quicker than Clay ever had the opportunity to. He couldn't stop thinking about her and Gemma could see it. Fuck, everyone could. But Noah? God Noah felt it full force. Jax had him busting his arse more than any other prospect, and everyone could guess at why. "When are you gonna stop messing with that kid and just go see her?" Clay questioned as he made his way into the empty clubhouse. Jax shrugged from his place at the bar. He was sipping a cold beer as he sat and watched Noah clean his bike on the security cameras. Yes it was the 4th time in two days he made him do it, but in Jax's eyes it was fair. "I dont know what you mean." Clay rolled his eyes as he poured himself a whiskey. "You got the hots for this girl. Gem told me. Just go see her and let the prospect sleep for god sakes. We have a shipment coming tomorrow, i need him in good shape." It was Jax's turn to roll his eyes at his step father. Never would have guessed Clay to take a prospects side. Standing from his seat at the bar, Jax nodded at Clay and made his way out to his bike. "Pack it up prospect, I've got somewhere I gotta go." Noah stood to his feet and awkwardly twisted the oil covered rag in his hands. "Can I talk to you quickly before you go?" Jax's eyebrow raised in question. Noah seemed to be wrestling with his thoughts, trying to work out how to phrase what he wanted to say without pissing his Vice President off. "Look, I don't want you anywhere near Emily. I know your track record with women Jax And I don't want her hurt." Noah clearly threw caution to the wind and tried to be as firm as possible with Prince of Charming. Noah couldn't deny that part of him hated that Jax could have whoever and whatever he wanted. Women looked at him like he was sex on legs. Perfection, with a physique that the Gods themselves carved. But Noah didn't see the appeal. In his eyes Jax was a dick, and it wasn't like he was the only blonde haired, blue eyed boy in charming. Jax's eyes widened in Suprise at the boldness of the prospect and laughter tumbled from his mouth. Noah felt his chest burn with both embarrassment and anger at the sound. "The last person I'm gonna listen to is you, grunt. Yeah she's hurt and your the one to blame. Hey, who knows? Maybe I'll pay her a visit, make her feel better. From what I hear it's not gonna be hard to fill your shoes." Winking at the prospect, Jax put on his helmet and sped out of the lot, leaving a disgruntled Noah scowling at the reaper that addorned his back.
30 minutes riding aimlessly around Charming did nothing to clear Jax's head and sure enough he ended up in the one place he was adamant he wouldn't go. Leaning against his bike across the road from Emily's home, Jax lit a cigarette and mentally wrestled with himself. He was never this nervous about a girl before. He was the prince, Girls fell at his feet all the time. But this girl? No this girl was different. Fuck. What was he doing? He knew minimal things about this girl, so why was she all up in his brain. Not even crow eaters could distract him from the purple haired pocket rocket. "Jax?" His head snapped up, the sound of her voice halting his pacing immediately. There she stood in joggers and a cropped vest, looking worried. Her hair was down, the long purple strands dangling over her shoulder and Jax's first thought was imagining running his fingers through it. Wondering if it was as soft as it looked. "Jax is something wrong?" Emily spoke again, the concern in her voice clear. Jax found himself frowning at her. "Yeah, there is actually. I havent seen you at the clubhouse." Emily scoffed at the nerve of the man infront of her. She had seen him from her kitchen window and the sight of him pacing, chainsmoking cigarettes made her worried. Now she felt stupid for caring. "Im not a fucking Crow eater Jax. I've heard how the club treats women, thats not me." Emily turned to walk away, but his gentle hand on her arm stopped her. "Thats not what i meant Darlin'. I meant...Fuck i like having you around okay?" Emily shook her head, completely dumbfounded. "Jax you met me twice. You dont know me. Look, if this is a way to piss Noah off, fucking his ex, im not here for it. Whatever he's done, leave me out of it." Jax rubbed his face frustrated. "This isnt about Noah Em. Infact I cant stand him. This is different. Is it so hard to believe that i may actually want to get to know you? That i enjoyed the time I spent talking to you at the clubhouse the other day?" Emily smiled softly at him. "I'm not different. Jax im boring. Your wasting your time here with me. You have multiple women who would give anything to spend a night with you. Dont be stupid. Go." Jax grinned at her as she gave him a gentle shove towards his bike. Throwing his arm over her shoulder instead, Jax guided her back towards her house.
"Well arent you lucky? Tonights your night Em, Im Yours. Let me be the judge of whether your boring." Emily couldnt help but laugh at the confidence on him. It was gonna be a long night.
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bellascool · 1 year
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IDIOT
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masterlist
request on my profile
posted : 13/02/23 (European date)
He knew you had trusting issues but he still did it.
long ass chapter, 3400 words so put yourself il a confortable position
edit 10/04 (European date) : wanted to change Bella to Y/n as I saw people didn't like it but it was way too long so I'll keep Bella for that story, sorry again enjoy !
You were currently in french class listening to your boring teacher talking about how you have to "conjuguer au plus-que-parfait un verbe tout en utilisant une proposition subordonnée relative"
Thankfully, your family came from France and talked to you in french at home which made your french classes way easier.
You sighed and started doing your exercises, not paying attention to the group of boys who were talking about you right behind your seat.
You were used to people talking about you for no reason at all.
You finished your exercises and since there was 30 mins until the class end, you decided to sleep on your desk.
-
You opened your eyes after someone gently rubbed your shoulder making you lift your head to see who was the kind soul who didn't let you sleep there.
"Désolé je t'ai réveillée mais le cours il est fini depuis 10 minutes et le bureau il est pas confortable si je me trompe pas. (hey I'm sorry for waking you up but the class ended 10 minutes ago and the desk isn't comfortable, is it?)" the guy said putting a hand on his neck
It was Kylian, a guy from your class. He plays for the national France football team and was really good to be honest.
"Ah ouais j'ai pas vu le temps passer merci. (oh yeah I didn't pay attention to the time thanks)" you said back putting my backpack on your shoulders
"Je savais pas que tu parlais couramment français tiens (I didn't know that you could speak french fluently)" he stated next to you while you two were heading to the rooms of our university
"Kylian tu m'as littéralement parlé français après m'avoir réveillée (Kylian you literally spoke to me in french after waking me up)" you chuckled at how lost he was
"Ah ouais merde j'suis con (Oh yeah shit I'm dumb)" he laughed while putting his hand on his forehead realizing how dumb his question was
"I prefer speaking english tho" you switched languages which made him look at you with a 'girl what' face
"Why? French is a beautiful language too"
You sighed, he didn't knew why you denied my french side after all.
"Let's just say I have my reasons" you stopped in front of your room door, now facing each other "anyway thanks for waking me, have a wonderful night" you mumbled before entering your room, about to close the door
"Bella wait!" he blocked it with his foot making you open it again "I enjoyed your company, can I uh.. maybe have your number please?" he looked down probably embarrassed
"Oh yeah sure, give me your phone" he smiled while handing me what you asked, you put on your phone number and gave it back to him
"Merci! See you tomorrow!" he finally turned around and left
Did Kylian Mbappé, THE Kylian Mbappé just ask for MY number?
You thought that to yourself, screaming in your head.
He was a pretty boy but your trust issues had to break the moment.
You had several issues with trusting people after your past relationship and it clearly was annoying for you to always have to be careful with everyone.
You sighed and went to your bathroom to take a hot shower.
-
After doing your night routine, you laid down on your bed and took your phone, now noticing that you received messages.
Hey it's Kylian :)
Hii, what's up?
I was actually walking outside and saw a bakery, and you know what they were selling?
hmmm idk maybe bread?
Bella..
Okay okay sorry tell me
Macarons!
Oh
What? Macarons are great and it's french, our country!
If you say so lol
I was wondering if you would like to come eat some macarons with me tomorrow after school?
You stared at your phone with your heart pounding on your chest.
AAAARRGHHHHHHHH
Sure! I would love that :)
Nice! I was kinda scared to ask tbh
Why? I should be the one scared of what you would ask!
Hey!
You talked for hours, getting to know each other and without even realizing, you put my trust in him.
You now believed that he was a nice person.
Kylian I'm going to sleep, I'm tiredddd
You're leaving me alone? :(
Yes shut up
Mean.
Anyways, good night! <3
Good night ma belle :)
You smiled at the name he gave you, it meant "beautiful" in french and you loved it.
You went to sleep with a smile on your face, imagining scenarios with the french boy.
-
You woke up feeling better than any other day.
You've made a new friend, he's Kylian fucking Mbappé and he invited YOU to go eat macarons with him.
You got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to get ready.
After getting your hair, outfit and makeup done, you grabbed your backpack and went to your first class, which was maths.
Oh you absolutely hated maths. You understood but it was so damn annoying.
You entered the class and sat on your usual desk, grabbing your stuff.
The class was about to begin but Kylian still wasn't seen, his friends were there but not him.
You didn't really pay attention, focusing on your work.
The math teacher started his class when the door swung open, revealing a breathless Kylian.
"Mister Mbappe, you are late !" your teacher said annoyed
"I'm sorry, I had training this morning!" he apologized, heading to the seat next to you
"I'll let it pass this time but you better find another excuse next time!" the man said before continuing his boring class
Kylian took a pen and pretended to pay attention when he didn't
"Are you going to not say hi or??" he whispered turning his head to see your face
"You're so dramatic, hi Kylian, did you sleep well?" you sarcastically whispered back
"Hi Bella, actually no."
"You didn't get your goodnight kiss? Want me to give you one next time?" you took a childish tone to make fun of him
"Actually yeah, I would love that"
Your eyes widened a bit unlike your cheeks who were flaming hot now, he probably noticed it since he started laughing
"No but seriously, you're still down for the macarons right?" he asked after calming down
"Of course!"
"Good, now I have a reason to be excited to finish school" he mumbled thinking you didn't hear but you did and it made you smile
The rest of the day passed really fast to be honest you didn't even notice that english, your last period, was over.
You happily packed your things and got out of the university, waiting for Kylian.
He kept teasing you all day which made you appreciate his company even more.
After 5 mins, you saw him walking towards you, his hands in his pockets, a smile on his face.
"Finally, I thought you would never come" I said while rolling my eyes
"Sorry, I had to give my homework to Mr.Julien, you know he hates when we give it late" he apologized
"All good, let's go I'm craving some macarons right now." you said before grabbing his wrist and walking
"Bella you don't know where the bakery is." he laughed while you were getting red, embarrassed
You let his wrist go but he didn't appreciate it so he gently grabbed your hand, interlacing your fingers which made your heart go crazy in your chest
You walked to the bakery who was 10 mins away while talking and mostly making fun of your teachers, you laughed so much that you didn't notice you were arrived.
You entered the small bakery and headed to the counter.
"Hi, welcome to Petites Gourmandises, what can I get for you?" a lady asked with a smile on her face
"Hello, we'll take 15 macarons please!" Kylian said next to you, still holding your hand
"15 macarons for the cutest couple!" she said while putting them in a small box, you felt your cheeks getting red and Kylian chuckled at the nickname
"We're just friends!" you said laughing too
"Oh honey, friends don't hold each other's hands and friends don't look at each other as if they were about to kiss in a minute!"
Okay now you were really really embarrassed and Kylian not saying anything made it even worse.
You tried to take your hand off of his but he wasn't going to let you do that and held it even tighter now.
"Your total will be 30.99 please!"
You took out your wallet but he grabbed it from your hands and put it in his pocket.
"Bella, when you're with me you'll never ever pay" he said while scanning his credit card
"But-"
"Don't start." He cut you off
"There you go, have a wonderful day!" the lady said while handing you the box
"Thanks, you too!" you both said before going to a table, you sat face to face which means you stopped holding hands
"You know, I'm glad we became friends" he started while opening the small box
"Me too, I always thought you were like narcissistic and the kind of person to act superior because they're famous or something" I said before stuffing a strawberry macaron in my mouth, they're so good oh my!
Kylian dramatically gasped, putting a hand on his chest as if he was hurt
"How dare you?" he gasped
"Kylian you're acting like a bitch right now" you were laughing so hard at his manners
"Says the one who thought I was narcissistic!" he said in a bitchy tone making you laugh even harder as he joined you
After some minutes of laughing, you both took a calm mood again, smiling at each other
"Bella I have something to ask you" he started with a serious face
"What is it?"
"Why do you keep denying your french side"
You sighed knowing that one day he would have to ask the question.
"It's not easy to say, y'know" you were playing with your fingers, you always do that when you're stressed
"I don't specially want to talk about it in public to be honest" you said as you felt tears filling up your eyes as you remembered the reason
"Let's go to my room then" he proposed
"I-" you took a deep breath "okay fine let's go"
The way back to the campus was silent and it was better like that. It wasn't even uncomfortable.
You both made your way to his dorm room and he opened the door, revealing his little space.
It was nice, you were actually expecting something really fancy since he had the money but looks like he wasn't that type of person.
He sat down on his bed and you did the same, looking at the ground.
"So.. If you didn't knew already I grew up in France. I had a loving family y'know, I was an only child but I was never bored, my parents would take me anywhere I wanted to go" you smiled at the thought of your perfect little family "but like we say, nothing ever lasts forever. My mother started to be less and less present at home, my father believed that she just worked more so it didn't really matter." you paused, not wanting to cry in front of him
He must've felt that since he slowly took your hand, holding it tightly.
"He later found out that she actually was seeing another man, but the only man turned into multiple. He went crazy the night he found out. I was 9 but still scared of what I heard. He insulted her, calling her names and he started hitting her. I tried to do something but I was still a little girl and couldn't do much" a tear slipped from your eye and you felt a knot forming in your throat
That's when he wrapped his arms around you, gently stroking your hair
"You don't have to tell me, if you feel uncomfortable you can stop" He slowly said as you tried to calm down
"It's fine, you'll have to know one day" you held him tightly and continued "He beat her until she was unconscious, blood all over her probably dead body. When he realized what he's done, he couldn't let me there because he thought I would call the police." you did your best to stop the knot but it kept growing "he grabbed a vase and hit my head with it. He kept hitting until I feel unconscious too. If my neighbor didn't hear screaming, I would've probably died too. That night, I lost my mother and my father." That was when you couldn't keep talking, you had so much more to say but you just couldn't speak
Kylian just hugged you, slowly kissing your head as he felt his shoulder getting wet from your tears.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't knew, I promise I'll stay with you until you feel better" he whispered against your hair, making you smile
You were glad that he knew what was going on.
-
You were doing your makeup, preparing for your date with the french boy.
A week has passed since you told him and since then, he didn't leave you and made you feel better like he promised.
He invited you to go watch a football match, he knew damn well that you loved football but never had the opportunity to go watch a match.
You smiled as you left your room, he said he would join you in the entrance of the stadium so you just called an uber.
-
You were now searching for Kylian, there was a lot of people and him being a celebrity doesn't make it easier.
You suddenly felt someone grab your shoulder which made you turn around to be met by a familiar gaze.
"Kylian now why the fuck are you wearing a cap with a mask and sunglasses?" you asked confused
"I don't want people to ruin our moment" he said before you both headed to your seats
The match began 5 minutes later and you could feel him being strange
"Is everything alright?" you asked watching him worried
"Bella I know this isn't the perfect moment but I.. I think I fell in love with you" he said turning his head to see your face, he had taken off his sunglasses so you could watch his eyes
"Oh." was all you managed to say
"Oh I'm so sorry I shouldn't have said that" he started to apologize but you cut him off by pressing your lips against his, making him smile
You pulled out for air as he lightly smiled
"Shut up I like you too" you joked making him chuckle
"I'm glad then" he said before taking your hand in his, intertwining your fingers
You kept cheering for the team until it was halftime. Kylian received a text but you couldn't see what it was
"I'm sorry I have to use the bathroom real quick" he apologized before heading there
Okay there was definitely something going on.
You trusted your instinct and followed him, hiding behind a wall as he was with his friends from the university.
"Enfin (finally)!" one of them yelled
"Bien joué mec t'as gagné ton pari (Well done man, you won the bet)"
"Ça a pris du temps à la faire tomber amoureuse hein (it took time to make her fall in love huh)" his friend joked punching his shoulder
"Ouais je sais mais vous me devez tous 200 balles maintenant (yeah I know but you all owe me 200$ now)" Kylian said while laughing
"Ouais ouais ta gueule t'es millionnaire (yeah yeah shut up you're a millionaire" they all laughed
"N'empêche elle t'aime vraiment hein, t'as vu elle t'a raconté quoi? Sur sa famille (I mean she really likes you huh, did you see what she told you? About her family)"
Your heart skipped a beat, he told them?
"Je sais mec, j'étais trop gêné quand elle a pleuré (I know dude, I was so embarrassed when she cried)" damn. "mais au final je pense- (but in the end I think-)" you cut him off by throwing him your soda making all of them turn around
"Un pari, donc j'étais un pari pour toi. (A bet, so I was a bet for you)" you laughed, realizing how dumb you were for believing that a guy like him would ever love you
"Attends c'est pas ce que tu penses- (Wait it's not what you think it is)" he tried to explain as his friends laughed
"L'écoute pas, c'est carrément ce que tu penses, il s'est bien foutu de ta gueule (Don't listen to him, that's exactly what you think it is, he used you)" his friend said while laughing making you realize that it's sad
"Regardez moi je m'appelle Bella et mes parents sont morts sous mes yeux ouin ouin je suis traumatisée (Look at me my name is Bella and my parents died in front of me, I'm so traumatized)" his other friend mocked you, making your eyes fill up with tears
"Les écoute pas, je te promets je peux tout expliquer! (Don't listen to them, I promise I can explain)" Kylian tried to apologize but you just shook your head
"Tu sais quoi c'est bon, c'est ma faute d'avoir pensé une seule seconde qu'un mec comme toi pouvait s'intéresser à moi. En tout cas félicitations, t'as gagné ton pari, j'espère que t'es content pour tes 2 balles en plus sur tes millions. (You know what, all good. It's my fault, I shouldn't have believed one second that a guy like you could ever be interested in me. Congratulations, you won your bet, I hope you're happy to gain 2 dollars amongst your millions)" you turned around and mixed to the crowd, hoping he wouldn't find you
Tears running down your cheeks as you left the stadium, leaving pieces of your broken heart there.
You felt so dumb for believing in it but that was your fault for trusting him so fast.
You ran to the campus, it was 10 mins away, the plain moon enlightening the cold city.
You arrived to your dorm room and slammed the door behind you before collapsing on your bed, tears flowing your face.
You felt so embarrassed.
You didn't even wanted to go to school but you had to and you knew it.
You didn't even notice that you fell asleep.
-
The day ended, Kylian didn't even come to school but his friends did and made fun of you all day.
You didn't even pay attention to them. It was useless.
You headed to the dorms but bumped into someone, you almost fell but the same person grabbed your arm, helping you not to fall.
"Thank you I didn't see-" you started but immediately stopped when you saw who was standing in front of you
"Oh." was all you said before pulling off and walking past him
"Bella attends! (Bella wait!)" Kylian started, trying to grab your wrist but you managed to avoid it
"Commences pas (don't start)" you opened the door of your room but he still followed you
"2 minutes. Laisses moi 2 minutes pour tout expliquer. (2 minutes. Leave me 2 minutes to explain everything)" he said begging making you sigh
"Dépêche toi. (hurry up)"
"Oui, au début c'était un pari. C'est vrai. Mais je te promets je suis vraiment tombé amoureux de toi, je t'en supplie crois moi si je le pouvais je retournerais en arrière pour refuser ce pari à la con et je serais venu vers toi parce que t'es vraiment une personne géniale. (Yes, at first it was a bet. That's true. But I promise I really fell in love with you, please believe me if I could I would go back and decline the stupid bet and I would've came to friend you because you're really an amazing person)" you couldn't even look at him in the eyes
"Si t'es vraiment sincère, tu m'expliques comment ils ont su pour mes parents? (if you're really honest, could you explain how they find out about my parents?)" you asked, crossing your arms on your chest
"Y'avait Mathieu dans ma salle de bain mais je te jure je le savais pas et quand je l'ai découvert c'était en même temps que toi, hier et je peux t'assurer qu'ils se moqueront plus de toi. (Mathieu was hiding in my bathroom but I swear I didn't knew and when I found out, it was yesterday with you and I can assure you that they won't make fun of you anymore.)" he told you as he grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to look at him in the eyes
"Je sais pas Kylian, tu m'as vraiment blessée (I don't know Kylian, you really hurt me)" you said with teary eyes
"Et je recommencerai plus jamais, une seule chance. C'est tout ce que je demande. (And I'll never do that again, one last chance. That's all I'm asking)" he slightly smiled making you join him
You slowly leaned over and your lips connected in a passionate kiss.
You deserved to be loved too and he did.
You pulled out and put your forehead against his with your eyes closed.
"T'es vraiment un idiot. (you're really a dumbass)" you chuckled
After all, a boy like him could love a girl like you.
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glatisant-questing · 6 months
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Hijikata, Sannan and Souma's Stories from the Manyo no Shou Stellaworth Booklet
Souma's story takes place in Ezo!
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(I can’t believe this is happening…) 
I secretly sighed as I beheld a nervous Yukimura Chizuru standing right next to me. 
Yukimura’s room had a leak, so she had to stay in one of the soldiers’ rooms for the night. Souji found it amusing, and he said, “Why don’t you let her stay in your room, Hijikata-san? She’s your page, after all”. In the end, I couldn’t refuse and agreed to let her stay in my room. 
“Um… Hijikata-san, are you sure this is okay? I don’t mind sleeping in my room, actually…” 
Yukimura said that hesitantly, but… 
“If I send you back to that room now, who knows what Souji will say. My room may be a little cramped for two people, but just bear with it for one night.” 
“N-no, I don’t mind the space…! I’ll lay out the futon.”
After her swift denial, she started laying out the futon that Yamazaki brought here earlier. 
“Hey, I can do the futon myself…” 
Before I finished my sentence, Yukimura already laid out both of our futons. She’s always good at this kind of thing. 
“Well then, let’s go to bed, then.” 
“Y-yes!” I heard Yukimura’s nervous voice. 
“…Just so you know, I’m not going to do anything weird just because we’re sleeping in the same room. I’m not that desperate to lay my hands on you.”
I said that to reassure Yukimura, but…
“I-I understand…” 
Yukimura’s reply sounded like 70% relief and 30% disappointment. 
(Wait a minute. Why does Yukimura sound down after what I said? I only said that to make her feel better.) 
As I was thinking, I realized something and said, “…And don’t get me wrong, it’s not like you’re not attractive or anything. I said that only because of my current position and how the situation is.” 
“A-ah… Yes! I understand.” 
The voice that answered me sounded a little relieved. 
(Why does she feel relieved by my words, anyway? Does she somehow want me to see her as a woman? ……No, she would not think like that.)
 I thought so to myself and said, “I’m turning off the light.” 
“Ah, yes!” 
After hearing Yukimura’s reply, I blew out the oil lamp. 
The room was enveloped in darkness and became very quiet. 
After that, I got into the futon, but it was still the time of the night when I usually worked, so I couldn’t fall asleep, but tossed and turned all the time. 
“Um…” 
From the other side of the darkness, I heard a hesitant voice. 
“What is it?” I asked.
“Are you really glad to let me stay in your room, Hijikata-san? If I didn’t stay, you could have focused on your work.” 
“Well, while that is true, it’s okay to have a day like this once in a while. Yamazaki and Shimada also tell me to go to bed early sometimes.” 
“…I see.” 
“Yeah. So don’t worry about it and just go to sleep. I’ll arrange for the leak to be fixed tomorrow.” 
“Thank you very much.” 
After hearing her words of gratitude, the conversation came to a halt and only the sound of her breathing could be heard. 
(Even though she kind of lives in confinement, she’s always concerned about us.) 
As I thought so, I finally felt sleepy and closed my eyes.
(The end.)
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“Sanna-san, are you awake? I've brought your meal."
Hearing the voice from outside the shoji door, I paused the writing that I had been doing.
"Yes, I'm awake. Please come in."
In response, the door quietly slid open, and Yukimura Chizuru-kun stepped into my room.
"I'll leave your meal here…” she said as she placed the tray with food in the corner of the room.
At that moment, a small yawn escaped from Yukimura's mouth.
"You seem tired. Did Hijikata-san give you a lot of errands to run again today?"
"Uh, I'm sorry! Actually, Hijikata-san didn’t ask me, but I volunteered. After all, I'm always grateful to all of you for your help."
"I see. You're still as kind-hearted as ever."
I spoke what was on my mind while continuing with my writing. She seemed slightly puzzled, tilting her head in wonder.
"Kind-hearted... you think so?"
Yukimura didn't seem entirely convinced, but then she seemed to think of something.
“If you don’t mind, please have your meal before it gets cold.”
"I'll have it once I finish this paragraph. Don't worry."
I replied without turning around, continuing with my documents.
It seemed that Yukimura-kun was sorry to disturb me, and she fell silent.
Time passed, and after a while, I thought, "Shall I take a break now?"
Setting my pen aside, I turned around.
"I apologize for making you wait. Shall I have the meal now? ...Oh?"
Perhaps tired of waiting, Yukimura had fallen asleep while leaning against the wall. She was breathing softly.
(If she was sleepy, she could have gone back to her room... Unless she wanted to hear my thoughts on the food?”
For a fleeting moment, I considered waking her up, but I was reluctant to do so when I saw how peacefully she slept.
"I can't let her catch a cold, and maybe I should cover her with something."
With that thought in mind, I draped my robe over Yukimura's body.
Then, I began to eat the meal placed on the tray.
Although the food got cold for a bit, Yukimura's cooking was still impeccable.
"It would have been better to eat it while it was still warm."
As I pondered, Yukimura’s eyelids slowly opened, and our eyes met.
After a brief moment, she seemed to have finally taken in the situation.
"Oh! I'm sorry, I just fell asleep..."
"It's okay. You can go back to sleep. I'll wake you up when I'm done."
"But..."
“Just have some rest. Is that okay?”
"Yes, thank you, Sannan-san."
She said bashfully and closed her eyes again, beginning to doze off.
Looking at Yukimura-ku peacefully asleep like some kind of small animal, I continued with my meal.
(The end.)
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“It's snowing again today. I can't help but feel gloomy thinking that I'll have to shovel snow again tomorrow."
As I gazed at the silently accumulating snow outside the window, I spoke.
"That's right. I was prepared for this, but I didn't expect that winter in Ezo could be this harsh."
It had been nearly half a month since we had come to Ezo in pursuit of Vice-Commander Hijikata. While the bitter cold and the snow confined us indoors, which could be frustrating sometimes…
(Still, it's been a while since I've enjoyed such peaceful days.)
Just as I was thinking so, something caught my attention.
"Huh?"
I noticed something and paused.
"What's wrong?"
“Senpai, your hands..."
Perhaps due to the usual chores, Yukimura-senpai's fingertips were bright red from frostbites.
"Oh, this? Don't worry about it. It'll heal if I apply some medicine," Senpai replied with a smile, but I took Senpai's hand in mine.
"Souma-kun?"
Senpai seemed a little surprised, but I held Senpai's hand in both of mine and rubbed it between my fingers.
However, since my own hands were cold, Senpai’s hand wasn't warming up.
"I-It's fine, Souma-kun. I'm okay."
Perhaps out of concern for me, Senpai said that, but...
“Please let me take care of you, Senpai. I've been causing you trouble all along."
"..."
Senpai seemed bashful.
After rubbing our hands together for a while, warmth finally returned to Senpai's hand.
“I think I’m fine. Thank you."
Saying that, Senpai let go of my hand and turned away shyly.
"I should go back to my room soon. I need to get up early tomorrow.”
Senpai began to leave the room.
"Wait, Senpai!"
I inadvertently grabbed Senpai's hand to stop her from leaving.
"Um... could you stay a little longer? I... I would like to be with you a bit more, Senpai."
Senpai seemed a bit surprised by my words, her eyes blinking.
"Oh... Of course, I didn’t mean anything weird! I mean, I just thought it would be nice to chat more and spend time together! Of course, if it's inconvenient for you, I can understand..."
As I stumbled over my words, Senpai gazed at me with a somewhat bashful expression, but...
"Is that so..."
Senpai murmured. I thought I detected a tinge of disappointment in her tone, or perhaps it was just my imagination?
But before I could voice my doubt, Senpai smiled and said...
"Well, I felt the same way, actually. So, let's chat a bit longer, shall we?"
With a gentle smile, Senpai said those words.
(The end.)
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