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suzdin · 11 months ago

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Washed Up Has-Been: a Dieter Bravo one shot

Dieter Bravo x F!Plus Size!Reader

Warnings: soft!Dieter, sweet!Dieter, smut, angst, bodily insecurities, reader is plus sized but no other physical attributes are described, Dieter is a little chubby as well, mentions of drugs and alcohol, oral (m receiving), mention of sex toys, fluff? (gasp!), did I forget anything? I know next to nothing about the film industry, don’t judge me :(

Word Count: 2,800

Enjoy and feel free to reblog and comment if you wish! 💜🙂

——

Dieter Bravo had not been the same since Cliff Beasts 6.

What did they call it? Losing your spark? Your mojo? Your moxy? Whatever it was called, he’d lost it, along with his marbles… if he ever had any to begin with, and he was sure many would agree he hadn’t.

The reviews were bad, abhorrent, really. ‘Dieter Bravo as Gio Ricci baffling’, ‘Bravo couldn’t act his way out of a paper bag’, ‘I can’t believe this man has an Oscar’, ‘Did he get his Italian accent at an Olive Garden?’, on and on the critics wailed and lambasted.

He’d had a mental break shortly after the premier, firing everyone he could in his vicinity — his publicist, his hair stylist and manicurist, hell, even his agent of twenty five years. He’d hired a new one, of course, a potential script FedExed to his door that morning, fist curled and white knuckled in anger around the thick stack of papers as he perched himself like a sentient gargoyle on his couch, in the tattered clothes he’d been wearing for nearly a week.

A dad. They wanted him to play a fucking dad, some sort of buddy comedy family film opposite Dwayne Johnson, it might be a good move for your career, buddy, his agent had explained. But seriously, him? Hollywood heart throb Dieter Bravo, reduced to playing someone’s bumbling father, opposite THE FUCKING ROCK?

He couldn’t believe it.

He had put on some weight since his last film, sure, but that was no reason or excuse to allow himself to be typecasted as a dad.

Or was it the ever persistent graying in his hair and beard? The laugh lines? The crow’s feet?

‘Dieter Bravo is a washed up has-been’ the internet screamed at him daily, leading him to drown himself in an endless stream of drugs and alcohol…more so than he was already doing, anyway.

He was barely a functioning person. A husk of his former self, he could no longer get it up, unsure whether to blame the drugs or his steadily fleeting mental health, and even putting brush to canvas felt more like a chore than an escape nowadays. He’d become a hermit in his own home, the ghastly, aging 1970s mid-century horror he resided in the Hollywood Hills, that he thought was amazing when he originally bought it a decade ago.

Well, much like him, older things fall apart, and the house was a piece of shit, which was apt.

He had hired you as his assistant and he was so vague as to what that entailed that you were sort of a jack of all trades as far as helping was concerned, acting as his maid, his cook, the middle man to screen his calls, his emails, so on and so forth. Hell, you even took care of the large python he’d bought ‘because it looked cool’, that he was now too scared to touch, himself.

You did it all, and although he never properly expressed as much, he was more grateful for you than he let on.

He always found you pretty, too. Beautiful, even, and not in the fake way he’d grown used to, living in Hollywood. You were kind, sweet, and uncorrupted by a crueler world, always happy and eager to assist him with whatever he needed.

And if he was being honest with himself, the thought of you sheathed around his cock was the only thing that could even get him half hard anymore.

When you arrive for the day, you find him on his couch, glowering at what you can only assume is another bad script, graying hair disheveled and curling away from his skull, teeth gritted in disdain. A look you had come to recognize and were more than familiar with.

“Let me take that to the garbage for you,” you offer, as you normally do in these situations, stepping forward to reach for the offending script.

His eyes clock the way your breasts sway when you walk, the roundness of your belly, the plushness of your arms. He can’t help but stare; he wants to bury himself in you and stay there forever.

He swallows, moving the script away from your extended hand and tucking it behind a cushion, distracted by your body.

“No — no, it’s okay,” he replies and his voice feels like gravel in his throat, realizing he hasn’t spoken all day until now.

Although the script sucks and he doesn’t want to do it, he needs the money. “Thanks.”

You notice his eyes on you and you sit, leaving about a foot of space between you to maintain a modicum of professionalism, observing the sadness behind his dark brown eyes and knowing this has been the norm for several months now but still hating it for what it is.

“What’s on the docket for today?” you ask him and he shrugs, unhelpfully, his lips pulled into a frown, shadows staining the lines of his face. You haven’t seen him this bad in a while.

“I can… make you some hot tea?” you ask, looking down at the schedule in your lap, of which nothing is jotted down for the day.

He shakes his head, carding a hand through his hair. “No. I’m out of tea.”

You chew your lip. “Okay… well, then I guess I’m running to the store today. I have a list already, but can you think of anything else?”

Once again, he shakes his head. “No. I’ll just order it or something.”

You frown and tuck the schedule away, crossing your legs and turning to face him, contemplative.

“Then what do you want me to do today? You’re paying me to be here,” you note. “Unless you’d rather I go home.”

“No!” he damn near shouts, making you jump, and he immediately regrets his lack of impulse control. His gaze traverses your subtle cleavage and you clear your throat, heat warming your skin. “Sorry, it’s just… I don’t want to be alone right now. Can we just hang out?” he queries.

“Dieter, are you okay?” you question and he shakes his head in response.

“No.” A single word that says so much more than that. It pulls at your heart strings, seeing him like this. “I — I’m a nobody.”

“You aren’t a nobody, you’re Oscar winner Dieter fucking Bravo,” you counter, and he snorts, picking at some dry skin on his ankle.

“Yeah, Dieter fucking Bravo, the aging has-been who can’t act his way out of a paper bag,” he snorts.

“If you keep talking like that, I’m going to take away your internet access so you can’t read all the mean tweets about yourself,” you threaten.

“You wouldn’t.”

“One call to your financial advisor and I would and could,” you retort and Dieter scoffs, trying to remember if he’d fired him yet or not.

You cross your arms and flop back against the worn and flattened couch cushions, eyeing him smugly.

The movement pushes your chest up and out, his gaze on you once again and he isn’t subtle about it this time. You clear your throat and stir, staring back at his soft, plush lips.

“Dieter—“

“Come here,” he murmurs quietly and the spontaneity of it catches you off guard, your jaw hanging agape in disbelief and confusion.

“…What?”

It had been months since anyone had touched him, had wanted to touch him, and now, as he stares at your body and smells your light vanilla perfume, after the shitty week he’s had, he needs to be touched, even if only briefly.

“Come… here,” he repeats, more dogged than before, and in spite of yourself, despite how unprofessional it is, you find yourself scooting forward.

He grabs your hips when you’re within reach and drags you the rest of the way, pulling the cushion partially off the couch in the process, a small yelp of surprise escaping your lungs as he softly grips your face to bring his lips to yours.

They’re plush, dry, lightly chapped and he tastes a little like whiskey and weed, but you don’t really mind, his coarse, wiry mustache scratching and tickling against your nose.

Suddenly, with a soft groan in the back of his throat, his hand is under your shirt, cupping your breast, and you break the kiss, looking down to where his arm disappears beneath the fabric, shock settling over your features.

“Dee… are you… are you sure?” you ask. You don’t exactly look like the people Dieter had been confirmed dating in the past, and you feel a wave of trepidation, your self conscious nature bubbling to the surface. You’ve always felt Dieter Bravo was more than a little out of your league.

Not that you’re dating him, but, you know.

“I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t sure,” he tuts and kisses you again, rougher this time, palming your breast, making your cunt throb.

He groans. You’re so good to him, always taking such good care of him, and you feel exactly the way he thought you would, warm and luscious and supple, his dick already fighting with the seam of his pajama pants, the first time in weeks.

And you’ve wanted this, too, as long as you’ve worked for him, never confessing your feelings for fear of losing your job. You never imagined Dieter fucking Bravo would feel the same way about you.

You know Dee needs this, you need this, and you want to make him feel good.

You brush a hand over his hardening cock and he damn near bucks himself straight off the couch with a grunt and a sharply uttered, “Fuck” against your lips. You grin into his mouth at how much composure he’s already lost from so few touches.

You pull away after a moment and scoot off the couch, sinking onto your knees in front of him, nestling yourself between his broad thighs.

He watches you, rigid cock tremoring in his pants at the sight, the outline of it clearly visible and straining against the fabric. “You… you don’t have to…” His voice is thick, haggard.

“Let me take care of you, Dee,” you mewl as you nuzzle your face against the squishy paunch of his stomach, lifting his shirt to plant small, reverent kisses in a circle around his belly button. He giggles and flinches at the contact.

“Sorry, sorry — ticklish,” he explains and you smile, placing a few more kisses there, more delicate than the ones that preceded them, trailing a line from his navel to the thick swathe of hair leading to his crotch.

Despite the pounds he’s put on recently, he doesn’t feel at all uncomfortable in front of you, eyes darkening as he drinks you in visually, lips tight and parted, breaths growing deeper in the barrel of his chest.

You look up and from your current perspective, he’s all wild haired and broad shouldered, panting, your cunt clenching with desire as you eye him with a wry grin.

You smooth his shirt down over his belly and move your face to the hard bulge below, nosing the bulk of it through the fabric and inhaling his natural scent, thick and musky and masculine in your nostrils. You both groan in unison.

“Dear god,” he grunts, “I feel like I’m about to— aaaaugh— fucking bust already.”

“Save it for my mouth, at least,” you snip and his head rolls back against the cushion at your words, the one with the sag in the middle where his neck always rests, eyes sliding shut.

“You’re so good for me,” he pants softly, already so close to falling apart, “I take you for granted and I’m sorry.”

“Dieter, shh.” You find the stretchy waistband of his striped trousers and drag them down his hips, not all surprised to see he’s gone commando, cock springing free from the cage of fabric, uncut and dribbling against the drag of soft cotton. He’s girthy, and you’ve never seen one intact in the flesh before — literally — a small puff of air escaping your lips, taking in the sight of him for a few seconds before coming to your senses.

“Is everything alr—“ he starts to ask, cutting himself off when you unexpectedly cup his heavy balls in your palm and lick a slow stripe up his length with the flat of your tongue, his hips quivering and bucking involuntarily. “Shit—“

You grin, humming satisfactorily to yourself and continue to tease him, his hands finding your hair, fingers twisting at the roots as the rings he insists on wearing get caught in the strands, pulling ever so slightly. You moan.

You feel incredible, your tongue working his most sensitive areas, and he’s having a hard time holding it together, torso heaving above you, tiny whimpers departing his lips, and he hasn’t even entered your mouth yet.

You sense how much trouble he’s having at keeping himself in check, so you back off a touch to give him a momentary reprieve, shifting to kiss along the meat of his inner thighs, nipping at the tiny elephant tattoos etched into his skin as you do so.

He cups one hand on the back of your neck, watching you through half-lidded eyes, your lips like pure velvet and heaven.

He’s already forgotten about the shitty script tucked into the couch, about the bad reviews and the critics with their cruel, baseless quips. Faded away to nothingness, akin to what he experiences when he’s completely blitzed, negative thoughts dissolving to the back of his mind to be discarded, and for now, for the moment, the only thing that matters is you, your beauty, and how well you take care of him.

After what seems like an eternity of small, worshipping, teasing touches to the insides of his thighs and the rim of his belly, your lips return to his cock, lapping at the precum that’s beaded up at the slit before taking him into your mouth, hand fisted at the base as you work him into your throat.

He’s impervious at this point to keep his hips flush against the couch, shuddering into your mouth as you take him and pushing further down your throat, not entirely on purpose, moaning as the wet heat of your mouth engulfs him.

“Wanna— fuck your pussy next time— with a vibrating plug in your ass,” he grunts, hardly able to string a single cohesive thought together, making your cunt throb and slick leak into the cradle of your panties.

Dieter wasn’t one to shy away from toys, and in fact had an entire drawer full of them, which you had accidentally stumbled upon one day when putting away some of his clothes; everything from butt plugs to cock rings to flesh lights with multiple attachments and bondage gear.

You steady his hips with your hands and hold him in place as best you can, difficult with how much stronger he is than you, jaw stretching to fit him, the musky tang of him flooding your tastebuds.

You steadily rock your head up and down his length, taking him all the way to the back of your throat, and you can feel the veins running the length of his shaft pulsating against your tongue, feel the way his balls tighten as he edges ever closer to the precipice.

He’s wanted you, needed you, for so long, that he can’t contain himself much longer. His hips begin to stutter and you feel his body growing taut, hear his breaths growing shallow and haggard, fingers curling against your scalp.

“I’m… I’m gonna… fucking cum,” he grunts deep in his chest. That’s all the warning he allows before his hips stall and he lets out a visceral growl of pleasure, spilling a hot and heavy load across your tongue, some of it seeping out at the edges and dribbling down his thighs until you’re able to steady yourself.

You hold him in your mouth until you feel the very last drop hit the back of your throat, slowly pulling off only when you feel him starting to go soft.

“You should really clean up this awful mess you’ve made,” Dieter taunts when you sit back to catch your breath, watching the cocktail of spend and saliva slide down his tan skin.

You grin and tip your head forward to obediently lap at the escaped fluids. He groans as he savors the delicious sight of you, affectionately brushing his fingers through your hair as you do so.

After a moment, you rise from the ground, your knees cracking from the exertion, joining him on the couch as he tugs his pajama bottoms back up his hips.

He snakes an arm around the small of your back and kisses you, deep and full, moaning when he tastes remnants of himself on your tongue.

He grins against your lips and then rises, yanking you off the couch and giggling along with you when you pass him a perplexed look.

“Where are we going now?” you ask, pleased to see him happy and relaxed again after all this time, to actually see him smiling.

“You took care of me, so I’m going to take care of you. You’re familiar with my special drawer, aren’t you?”

—

FIN. xx

#pedro pascal #writing #fanfic #smut #author #romance #pedro fanfic #dieter bravo #dieter bravo the bubble #the bubble

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underratedgrapeju1ce · 3 months ago

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Yo,I REALLY love your "Shipwrecked 64" Fan art, especially how you draw Giovanni the goose,I really need more of him and possibly some angst of him,if that's even possible

Please take your time and take care of yourself❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

"if angst of gio is possible" do you have ANY idea who you're talking to? :) anything is possible.

i appreciate the kind words ^^

#answered asks #shipwrecked 64 #sw64 #giovanni goose

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janayuga · 1 year ago

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POKEMON MASTER EX SPOILER

How are people still in denial over the fact that all 4 Rocket executives are madly in love with Giovanni? I mean look.

My mind will forever rot in Gio x Admins hell, and Pokemas is serving me some good-ass food💜

#pokemon #pokemon spoiler #pokemon masters ex #pokemas #rocket admin archer #team rocket admins #rocket admin ariana #rocket admin proton #rocket admin petrel #team rocket proton #team rocket ariana #team rocket archer #team rocket petrel #team rocket #pokemon giovanni #rocket leader giovanni #i multiship giovanni

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isitthemoon · 2 years ago

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my secret admirer

haknyeon x reader (request, thank you for the birthday wish, dear anon!)

genre: slight mystery (not really), fluff, cutie haknyeon, bff kevin, just a lot of surprise, getting together-ish, texting au-ish notes: haknyeon just gives me orange/tangerine vibes like he is the brightest, cutest soul ever i wanna smooch him... word count: 2.7k

music played in your ears as you watched lazily as your pen rolled and rolled, all the way to the edge of the table. you didn’t flinch as it fell and made a loud, clattering sound on the wood floor. though, you did jump when you noticed people around who were also studying at the library, turn to look at you with sharp eyes.

you slightly bowed your head, apologized, and bent down to pick it up. you sighed, tired as you slumped back down onto your seat. you were so tired from studying constantly and having to finish up last-minute projects, feeling the life slowly leave your soul as you played with the hem of your papers, yawning.

but then, your phone lit up and you see it’s from him.

or he’s also known by his contact name which is “tangerine🍊”

your best friend, kevin, once saw a notification pop up from him and he thought that you were the weirdest person ever for texting someone named tangerine. though you explained it was a nickname, he had stumped you with his next question.

“what’s his real name then?” he asked.

you paused, thinking for a second. you furrowed your eyebrows, “i don’t actually know?”

“y/n,” he gaped at you in disbelief. “are you kidding me right now?”

the guy who goes by the name of tangerine is a complete mystery to you. and usually, you wouldn’t talk to literal strangers with an anonymous face. but here’s the catch: he’s your secret admirer! you felt giddy just thinking about it.

he had even admitted to it.

it all happened when you had just woken up from a nap. you were exhausted and drowsy, with your hair all over the place. you blinked your eyes blearily and that was when you saw that you had gotten a text from an unknown number.

unknown: hi y/n

you vividly remembered freezing, feeling fear rush through you. did you just gain a stalker? you hesitantly texted back.

you: hi who’s this

unknown: you don’t need to know that

you cringed.

you: ur really creepy right now

unknown: no no no no i promise im not a creep (T⌓T) i just wanted to talk to you but i dunno how to approach u ╥﹏╥

you giggled softly, finding the emoticons cute.

you: do i know you?

unknown: you may have seen me around campus, but i wont tell you who i am. im…. shy (*^.^*)

you smiled like an idiot at your screen.

you: ok, what should i call you

unknown: hm, let me think

unknown: how about

unknown: yours?

you recalled widening your eyes and sitting up in bed at that moment.

you: wow thats bold

unknown: ill always be bold for you

you: bro

unknown: i think ur really pretty, can i be ur secret admirer?

you paused.

you: sure, whats your favorite fruit

unknown: tangerines, why?

you: that’s your new name

tangerine🍊: i still think being yours would be better

you: dont get ahead of yourself

tangerine🍊: i saw these beautiful flowers and they remind me of you <3

you: oh thank you

and you would never admit that you had zoomed in on the picture. but, not on the flowers, but the pretty hand that was holding the stem of the tulip. oh, how you so badly wanted to know who he was. your studying was long forgotten.

you loved this place. the cafe was the perfect vibe. the drinks were so amazing that you liked to try all of them. and it was never too busy to the point that it got stressful. it often became your go-to study spot. so basically, you’re a regular. there was always the nicest girl who served you your drink every day. you remember her mostly from the pretty, light pink hair color that she had dyed it.

currently, you were waiting for kevin so that the two of you could visit nearby stores. he had complained to you the day before that he desperately needed new clothes. you were also waiting for your drink.

and speaking of,

“iced matcha latte for y/n?”

you startled out of your thoughts. that wasn’t the typical honey-like voice that you heard from the girl. instead, it was deeper and raspier. you turned and approached the counter. and it was like time stopped.

you felt like you were in one of those romance dramas where the two characters would meet for the first time and they just cannot get their eyes off each other. the man in front of you was so… cute? he was also handsome, you must add. he had full, pretty lips and big, yet gentle eyes. he looked good with only a simple uniform on. additionally, his brown hair was wavy and looked incredibly soft to the touch.

he was the epitome of your ideal type, friendly, and looks like a cute golden retriever.

and instead of greeting him nicely like a normal citizen, the only thing that you could blurt out was,

“you don’t work here.”

his hand that was holding your drink was now stuck mid-air. and then he burst out laughing, his eyes twinkling which only made your heart thump even more.

“of course i do. i’m just covering for someone else,” he tilted his head, grinning. “don’t tell me you’ve never seen me before.”

you shook your head, still in a trance.

“huh,” he scoffed to himself, slightly in disbelief. but still, he gave you the sweetest smile. “well, it’s nice to meet you.” he had a slight glint in his eyes, almost like he already knew you. and whether you thought that was odd or not, you didn’t care. what you were more focused on was the fact that you may or may not have developed a huge crush on him.

…

“your drink, y/n,” he reminded, eyeing you teasingly. you blinked.

“oh! r-right,” you grabbed it, almost choking on your spit. “have a nice… day?” you turned on your heel and rushed away where kevin was now waiting for you at the entrance. he waved at you excitedly.

“hey,” he grinned. “did you see the sale going on at-”

but you were quick to interrupt him.

“who is that?” you gestured to the man behind you. he was now cleaning the counters, as beautiful as ever.

“hm?” your best friend peeked behind you. his eyes widened with realization. “that’s… is that haknyeon? what’s he doing here? i didn’t know he had a shift today…”

you gawked at him with confusion.

he was quick to notice and he laughed, “haknyeon’s my roommate.”

“oh,” you were deep in thought. all that was playing in your mind was his beautiful smile and his bright eyes and his-

“why, did he bother you?”

“no, he’s just…” you stammered. “he’s cool, i guess.” and as you were leaving, you couldn’t help but take another peek at him. your heart was thumping the whole day after, just at the thought of possibly seeing him again.

tangerine🍊: matcha latte or chai latte?

you: matcha latte of course, are u kidding me

tangerine🍊: hm.. then ill make sure to keep that in mind for our future dates

you: ive never seen u yet, how are you so sure ill go on a date with you?

tangerine🍊: maybe you did see me (*ﾉωﾉ)

you: what

tangerine🍊: nothing! i will now make a chai latte since you hate it so much

you: i never said i hate it. and you can make drinks? are you a barista at a cafe or something?

you: don’t leave me on read

you: youre a menace

haknyeon let out a huge breath after holding it for so long. he flipped over on his bed, burying his face in the pillow as he screamed into it until his face was red (as if he wasn’t blushing already before).

“are you okay?” kevin eyed him, looking up from his computer.

“im fine,” he breathed out. “i just almost got caught.”

“did you commit a crime or something?” kevin widened his eyes.

“oh no,” he giggled. he then looked off into the distance with dazed eyes. “i’m just in love.”

“oh my god.”

it’s odd, how kevin, who was your best friend for who knows how long, has never invited you to his dorm before. you’ve known him since the two of you were just playing and running in the playground. he’s been by your side forever, rooting for you and hoping you’d do the same. but his unvisited dorm status has now changed as you were now standing right outside his room.

once he heard your knock, he flung open the door and smiled widely.

“y/n!” he threw his arms around you. “i missed you!”

you giggled, slapping him playfully, “kev, it’s only been two days.”

“still,” he glared. he stepped aside, “come in!”

you were incredibly surprised to see how neat the small room was. everything was folded, not a single piece of dirty clothes on the floor, nor were there empty iced tea bottles that kevin always loved to drink.

you turned to him with a baffled smile, “since when were you so neat?”

“me?” he froze. and then he shook his head, “no way, would i ever be the neat one… that was haknyeon.” he rolled his eyes, gesturing to the folded blankets and fluffed pillows, “he insisted that our dorm be neat for our guest. which, i don’t understand because when he has sunwoo over, he doesn’t care at all how messy it is. maybe it’s cause he knows it’s you…”

you didn’t think too much of the odd statement and just laughed quietly. you sat on kevin’s bed, taking one of his plushies and squishing it roughly in your hand.

“so,” you began. “what show did you say we should watch again?” you looked up at him. but kevin was staring at his phone, an utter look of panic in his eyes. “k-kevin?”

“i, uh- i’ll be right back,” he jerked a thumb to the door. “may have taken someone else’s package. i was wondering why i ordered like one hundred packs of cookie cutters… who even needs that?” and he was out of the door after grabbing the brown box, the metal sounds jingling inside. you could even hear the footsteps running down the hallway.

you yelped, “wait-” you sighed, sinking back down on the bed in defeat. you took this chance to look at the area a bit more closely. it was a lot different from your dorm. their dorm was a bit more cluttered but in a colorful way. kevin had some art supplies laid out on his desk, as well as an unfinished coffee from this morning.

you turned to the other side of the room, which you assumed was haknyeon’s. there was the cutest pig plushie on his bed, and on his desk… was a whole pack of macarons.

you laughed, it reminding you very oddly of a certain secret admirer. it was his favorite snack, he absolutely adored rambling on and on about them, even rating each macaron he ate from one to ten. on some days, he would randomly send you a picture and caption it “you have to try this when we go on our date, one day >.<”

you opened your phone and texted him.

you: what’s your favorite flavor of macarons?

suddenly, a ping came from his bedside table. you paused, your body going rigid when you noticed how a phone had immediately lit up as soon as you pressed send. you tilted your head. that’s not kevin’s phone, but haknyeon’s.

maybe it was just a coincidence?

you walked over and you read the contact name that popped up on the phone.

prettiest in the world (y/n) 💗

you took in a small gasp as your eyes shifted from your phone to his. with your heartbeat thumping, you rushed and sent another text to him. and soon enough, his phone sounded once again.

you yelped. all the dots began to connect in your head. the glint in his eye at the cafe, kevin’s constant complaining of his roommate being on his phone late at night…

he’s your-

the door suddenly opened. you whipped around, expecting it to be kevin, but instead, it was him. he looked like he had just come back from running after class, books in his hand and his mouth huffing for breath. he looked attractive. and also cute. you’ll never get over how cute he is.

he pointed at you, smiling funnily, “you’re here… and kevin’s not here?” he looked at you with awe. “he must trust you a lot.”

“i- you-” your cheeks began to flame red as you stuttered. you pointed at his phone, handing it to him.

he looked at you with surprise. “i knew i left it here!” he groaned, taking it from you. he turned it on. when he saw the notifications from you, he immediately froze. his mouth pulled into a sharp line as he slowly looked at you, his eyes darting.

you simply stared back, mouth wide open. the cute guy from the cafe, your best friend’s roommate, was your secret admirer? the one that you’ve been talking to for almost two months now?

“i- i can explain!” he panicked, his hands flailing helplessly. then, they clasped together, almost in silent prayer as he gazed at you with pleading eyes. he took a deep breath before rambling like an absolute maniac, “i am… i am your secret admirer, here in the flesh. but please hear me out! i’ve known you for a long time because i always see you on video call with kevin. and then i saw that you started coming to the cafe i work at and i-” he stammered, his cheeks turning redder by the second. “and then i thought that you were the most beautiful. like an angel who fell from the sky and- oh, im rambling. but i- i didn’t know how to approach you so i got your number through kevin’s phone so-”

“you’re my secret admirer?’ you asked in utter disbelief, completely disregarding his sob story.

he blushed, looking away as he shuffled on his feet.

“maybe…?”

you gaped at him. but your lips slowly grew into a bright smile.

“thank god, you weren’t some old creepy guy,” you sighed in relief. “i’m glad that my secret admirer is a cute one.”

“yeah,” he casually agreed. “you wouldn’t want some cree- wait. what?” he sputtered, turning even more pink. his eyes were wide. “y-you think i’m cute?”

you nodded, winking, “you’re really cute. i even might have developed a crush on you when i first met you. i’m glad it’s you.”

he laughed, loudly, “that’s so…” he looked at you fondly. “that’s amazing. i can’t believe i- oh i think i just won the lottery. uh so, should i properly greet you now?” he giggled adorably. “hey y/n,” he took your hand in his, making you sputter. he pressed a soft kiss to the back of it, just like a prince. “i really like you and i would love to not be your secret admirer anymore.”

you giggled, your heart soaring.

“so, would you maybe… want to go on a date tomorrow, mr. tangerine?” you laughed. “or should i say, haknyeon?”

he smiled dearly as he bowed, making you laugh even more. “i would love to, your highness. and soon, can you call me yours?”

you swatted him away and glanced at him shyly.

“maybe…”

haknyeon🍊💗: did you get home safely? i had an amazing time with you ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

you: i did!! amazing date, definitely topped the last one

haknyeon🍊💗: wow are you seriously ranking them rn

you: i am. i want to go on all sorts of dates with you since you’re mine

haknyeon🍊💗: am i… am i finally.. (gasp) yours?

you: yea

you: you are awfully dramatic, you know that

kevin was startled at the sound of haknyeon screaming once again in his pillow.

he groaned, “is it y/n again?”

“mhrbrmnghm,” he hummed, garbled into the pillow.

“at least be grateful i invited them over in the first place…”

#this is.... 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺#i have no words #😭💜#🌙 gio talks

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aheathen-conceivably · 9 months ago

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🍭💜🤍🩶🧸 for jo and gio >:) <3

Ya know, I thought I wasn’t gunna do any more of these but then I got this one and well, who can resist JoxJoe?

🍭 What's something they can never agree on (big or small)?

Ummmm, life? 🤣

Like really in a grand scheme, Gio and Jo do not share a vision for the future. It’s part of the reason they avoid talking about it so much, and what lies behind most of their fights. Both of them want to be the one to decide what the other does, and that idea of “power” insofar as who gets to make the decisions and who’s vision wins out is something that hangs over their heads at nearly all times. The crossroads of peace that they are currently at is because Jo has given herself over to his vision of the future, and much of their best times in New Orleans were because he was doing the same then too.

💜 How do they silently show love or affection towards the other?

I don’t think Gio and Jo are the type to spend much time in silence (oh what a difference to our other couple). They quite literally always have something to talk about or something to say, and are both usually full of energy and liveliness. Even in conversation I don’t think small smiles or looks would suffice, and they’re both people who show their affection through touch.

For both of them, but Jo in particular, she will especially show her affection by staying in bed with him in the morning. She’s someone who wakes and immediately rises to her feet, so to stay there in quiet and just let herself be held is the ultimate display of her love.

🤍 What is their favorite or most admired quality in the other?

So I think that while Jo and Gio have great difficulty agreeing on what they want to do with their lives together (ahem, see question one), they immensely enjoy the other person and want to be around them as much as possible. Both of them are very joie de vivre sort of people who enjoy living life to the fullest and have fun doing so together.

On a deeper level, Jo loves Gio’s infectious positivity and humor. He’s a guy who dreams big, and has no trouble talking about all the things he envisions with an infectious sense of wonder and charm (it’s following through on those ideas and making the right choices in pursuing them that he lacks). Josephine herself is more action oriented, so that wondrous, dreaming side of him is very enchanting to her (and also why she’s drawn to Zelda). She also loves how willing he is to talk about it. Emotional expression comes easily to Giorgio, and Jo admires him for it because she knows it’s a strength she lacks in herself.

Conversely, Gio admires how willing Josephine is to go after what she wants. She lets very little stop her, and does everything with optimism and vigor. Her optimism is particular is something he finds attractive, because even when she’s knocked down she’s able to stand upright and keep walking. It’s why her depression really triggered his guilt, because he finally saw a side of her that he didn’t know existed. But this in turn only strengthened that admiration as he realized that when she does stand up and keep walking, she does it totally and with self determination.

🩶 Which one apologizes first? How do they apologize?

Like actually says “I’m sorry”, owns up to their mistakes and explains themselves? Gio. Only Gio. Josephine will not apologize (although she’s ~kind of~ trying). A full apology is something she sees as a power grab, a moment of “giving yourself up” to that person and she simply will not do it. She has…other methods that she uses to show Gio she’s sorry 😂

🧸 BONUS! Include one of your favorite moments between them!

Y’all ready for another montage? Cue the music…

#Giorgio Mistretta extra #Josephine Duplanchier extra #god I love them help #ask game #simblr ask game

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