#I don’t know how to express my happiness
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derealizationns · 2 days ago
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"intimacy"
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characters - katsuki bakugou x fem reader
synopsis - katsuki’s tough facade crumbles as soon as you two are together, and he loves every second of it.
genre - fluff!!! so much fluff 🥹
warnings - none 🫧
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katsuki loves intimacy. he definitely won’t show it, but he’s all for it. that boy is so used to being tough and everything, that it makes him crave those tender and gentle moments.
just imagine simple things like making dinner. the world seems silent, the only things you can hear are the shuffles of yours and katsuki’s slippers and the raindrops hitting the roof of your shared home. bakugou is chopping food on the counter, with you sitting beside him on top of the island, swinging your legs and just observing his movements.
your presence brings him so much comfort, though you aren’t even doing anything special. just the feeling of domesticity makes katsuki experience some weird warm sensation in his chest. he subconsciously smiles at that. it’s a faint smirk, but you still notice it.
after jumping off the countertop, you wrap your arms around his chest and place your head on his muscular back. he huffs with fake annoyance, but in reality, this gesture makes him incredibly happy.
“whatcha doin’, idiot?” he asks.
you roll your eyes at his question.
“i’m showing love to my incredibly strong boyfriend, don’t pretend that you don’t like it.”
at that moment, katsuki shuts up. he can’t lie to your pretty face, that would be cruel, so he just decides to remain silently enjoying your presence and warmth.
some other day, you are lying under the covers with your boyfriend. it’s saturday afternoon, meaning that you two have a day off, just for yourselves. bakugo decided that both of you should watch a movie that just came out, but truth be told, he didn’t even pay attention to it. the boy is simply staring blankly at the tv, visibly deep in thought. you quickly notice his weird behavior and decide to bring it up.
“kats?” you start.
his attention quickly switches to you, bright red eyes staring into yours curiously.
“what’s wrong?” the question falls from your lips.
his expression changes to one of slight shock. perhaps bakugou didn’t realize that he was visibly zoning out, or maybe he just didn’t expect you to mention it. after a few seconds of silence, bakugo finally speaks up.
“nothin’ is wrong, why you askin’?”
you sigh at his words. he is clearly hiding something from you. just when you wanted to scold him for his obvious lie, he speaks again.
“just thinkin’… ’bout how much i love you, i guess…” he starts, but he’s not looking at you anymore; his eyes are fixed on the ceiling. bakugo feels so embarrassed after he says this. the boy silently curses himself for speaking up.
you look at him confused but can’t deny the warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest. katsuki wasn’t the one to express his love so directly, and that took you aback.
“every memory i have with you makes me feel… weird. like, not bad weird, just… puzzled, i guess? i’ve never felt that way, so it’s hard to exp—” you cut off his rambling before he finishes.
“i know what you mean, kats. every moment, even the simplest and most boring one, stirs up something within you, am i right?”
your boyfriend sends you a shocked look. he didn’t expect you to read his emotions so well. you just said everything right! how is that possible? did you read his mind or something? or maybe… it was because those were the same feelings you have…?
“yeah… i think you’re right…” he mumbles, visibly embarrassed by this conversation, so you think it’s time to cut it off.
“but it’s a good feeling, right? like you’re not… overwhelmed?” you ask him worriedly.
katsuki shoots you a look that you think was supposed to be scolding.
“what? no, you idiot. it’s… it’s good, i like it.”
you smile at his words and tuck yourself closer to him, bathing in his warmth.
“that’s good…” you whisper and feel yourself slowly doze off, as bakugou leaves a soft kiss on your forehead.
you sleep soundly, dreaming about every soft and domestic moment you had with katsuki. and there were many more to come.
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. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ kirara’s notes . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
thank you for reading this, hope you liked it! likes, follows and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🤍🫧
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whorelaud · 1 day ago
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꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 untouchable ¡
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pairing experienced¡roommate¡rafe cameron x innocent¡reader
sunmary rafe guides you through your first masturbation after you told him you've never touched yourself before, his offer tempting you in ways you've never experienced before. your curiosity grows as well as your desire, leading to an intimate moment that changed things between you two.
contains smut! first time masturbating, guided orgasm, fingering, lots and lots of kissing, dirty talk, nipple play, needy reader, player rafe, hes a tease!! he also interrupts reader, uhh thats ab it (i think). wc; 4.2k
a/n hi !! this took two days to write and at least 1-2 months to get out of my notes blaahhh hope you enjoy!!!!
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“Have you ever had someone go down on you?” 
You choked out a snort of disblief, taken aback by the question. Rafe, who was seated inches away from you, chuckled, turning his head in your direction, causing the smile on your face to instantly vanish. 
He wasn’t joking. 
You cleared your throat, feeling heat crawl past your neck, until it eventually settled on your face. You’ve had your fair share of embrassing moments with your roommate, but this? You wanted the ground to split and swallow you whole, too ashamed to respond. 
Truth be told, you’ve never involved yourself in any sexual activities, let alone had someone go down on you. Hell, you’ve barely ever touched yourself before, brushing off your random bursts of arousal whenever you were sexually frustrated
So, the question here was, how were you supposed to tell him that? Reveal that you were a virgin at heart, and that you’ve never had someone touch you intimatly; not that you’ve done it. 
You were painfully aware of how experienced Rafe was, with the latter informing you all about his hookups; and that was besides the amount of girls he brought over. The walls were thin enough to give everything out, their loud moans and whimpers echoing through your ears. In conclusion, you didn’t need him to break down what he was up to. 
“Not that I remember.” You muttered, brushing off the question. 
“What?” He cocked his head to the side, snatching the spoonful of ice cream from your hold. “Who doesn’t remember getting eaten out?” 
“People are busy, Rafe.” You scoffed, licking the drop of ice cream off your thumb. “Not everyone has the time to fuck around.”
“You’re not busy,” he muffled out, tossing the spoon back in the tube of ice cream on your lap. “You don’t go out, all you do is lay around the whole day, then proceed to complain over the fact that you did nothing all day.”
You rolled your eyes, faking an annoyed expression at his words. Rafe adjusted his position, manspreading on the sofa, until his knee was hovering over yours, the contact ceasing the distance between you. 
“I mean, come one…” he trailed off, tone slightly teasing. “I’ve never seen you bring anyone over, are you really not interested in any of that stuff?” 
“How about you mind your business?” You huffed, feeling your ears burn with heat. “Why do you wanna know so bad?” 
“What?!” He defensively shot back, “I’m jus’ curious, besides, you never tell me anything, it’s always me talking.” 
“It’s ‘cause there’s nothing to tell you,” you mumbled under your breath, avoiding Rafe’s gaze. “There, you happy?”
Silence seeped through the air, atmosphere heavy with tension. Rafe‘s lips parted with disbelief, speechles by your blunt response. That was… new, you never brought up your sexual life to the latter before, so to think you were admitting to being a virgin over a silly argument struck Rafe to his core. 
"You're not like, serious or anything, right?” He attempted to laugh it off, smile fading when your expression remained the same. “Shit, you’re being serious.”
Your gaze settled on your hands in your lap, too embarrassed to glance over at Rafe, whose eyes burned holes through your flesh. You could envision the look of disbelief on his face, not having to look to know that he was shocked. 
“Why are you surprised?” You giggled, brushing off the heavy tension seeping through. “You said it yourself, i’ve never really brought anyone over.” 
“I was messing,” he swiftly replied, “I didn’t think you were you know… a virgin.”
“Okay, if you word it like that…” You tilted your head to the side, a tight-lipped smile spreading across your lips. 
“Have you never like, engaged in anything?” Rafe muttered, trying to play off the question as something casual, though you knew it wasn’t. “You know, never gave a guy a blowjob before?” 
Nothing about your roommate asking if you’ve given a guy a blowjob was casual. 
“No.” You shook your head, a snort escaping your throat. 
“You’ve kissed someone before though, right?” He asked, voice lowering with hesitation. 
“I’ve kissed someone before.” You exclaimed, leaning your head back on the sofa. “You already knew about that.” 
“You did tell me,” he nodded his head, “Have you never like…”
“What is it now, Rafe?” You question, teasing hinted through your tone. “Why are you investigating me?”
“‘M not; jus’ curious.” He muffled out, voice barely above a whisper. “Have you never pleased yourself?”
“What?” You ask, coming to a halt. 
The question filled with temptation, something you both chose to avoid for the sake of your friendship. Rafe always playfully flirts with you, using every chance he could to tease you. Those usually end in you brushing it off, not thinking too much of it. 
However, this was personal. He was asking questions that shall be private, not for him to hear, nor know about.  
“Have you never touched yourself before?” He elaborated, gaze flickering to your lap. “You’ve touched yourself, right?” 
You remained silent, blinking far too many times for your liking. You fidgeted with the rings hugging your fingers, busying yourself with the movie displayed on the tv, now long forgotten with the ongoing conversation. 
“Fuck.” Rafe muttered under his breath, throat going dry. “That’s so…” 
“Embrassing,” you cut him off, playing off your embarrassment. “I know.” 
“It’s hot; somehow turns me on,” he corrected, continuing his statement. “Knowing you’ve never touched yourself before.” 
Your head shifted in his direction, a flustered expression spreading across your face as you felt heat settle on your cheeks. You swallowed around your throat, mouth gaping to speak, met with utter silence in return. 
Shivers ran down your spine, the sensation like feathers on your skin. Rafe’s blank expression made things worse, displaying how serious he was being. He wasn’t fucking around, even with how swift the conversation took a turn. 
“Shut up,” you mumbled, clearing your throat. “Quit messin’ around.” 
“Did that get you?” Rafe choked out a giggle, easing the tension between you. 
“That wasn’t funny!” You huffed, lightly shoving his shoulder. “Don’t joke around like that.”
“I mean,” he said, teasingly fidgeting with his tongue. “It wasn’t a joke, but–”
“Rafe!” Your face heat up, flustered expression spreading across your face. 
“Sorry!” He chuckled, drifting off for a moment. His gaze trailed down your body, a sly smirk finding his lips once again. “You need help? I’ll guide you through it.” 
You paused, considering his suggestion for a moment, even if he meant it as a joke. Your lips quivered into a thin line, feeling your throat dry up when his hand found your bare thigh, action teasing, tempting you in ways that were forbidden. 
And before you got time to process the gesture, he grabbed the ice cream tube from your lap, instantly scooping a bite with the spoon inside. It took you a moment to catch on with what he did, attempting (and failing) to snatch it back from his hold. 
“Hey, that’s mine.” You muttered, gaze shifting up to Rafe when he stood to his feet. 
“What’s mind is yours, remember?” He winked, walking backwards to maintain eye contact with you. “We both pay the bills around here.” 
“I paid for that, though.” You argued, mimicking the latter’s action as you followed in his steps. 
“From whose wallet?” He reasoned, causing you to go quiet. 
Right, you did steal ten bucks to buy that from him; though the boy didn’t mind. 
Your shoulder relaxed, defeated by the boy’s response as you watched him enter his room, letting the door shut behind him. 
That was that.
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Later that night, you found yourself slipping under your convers, tempted by Rafe’s words from earlier. Your hands traced down your body, halting around the sliver of skin in between your shirt and shorts. 
Your fingers toyed with the waistband of your shorts, teeth digging through your bottom lip as your hand tumbled beneath the thin cloth, the sensation of your cold fingers brushing over your heat sending shivers throughout your body. 
Your digits lightly traced over your heat, sliding down your folds, inaudible gasp escaping your throat when you noticed how wet you’ve gotten from earlier. Rafe’s words echoed through your ears as your eyes fell shut, imagining him guiding you through your masturbation with his words, the thought spiraling pleasure through your body.
You collected your juices with your fingers, gasping as you traced them back to your clit, the sensation overwhelming you whole. You started off with slow rubs to your cunt, letting your pleasure build up within every touch you committed to. 
You imagined Rafe’s hand instead of yours, rubbing your clit while he whispered praises to your ears. The thought washed guilt over you, aware you were going to regret your pathetic thoughts once the pleasure wears off. 
Imagining your roommate going down on you was your last predicament tonight, yet, here you were, touching yourself while pretending it was Rafe, his words never leaving your mind. You would’ve been down for whatever, the least he could’ve done was push through with his teasing, and you would’ve gladly accepted it. 
But he didn’t, and that made you want him even more. The idea of not being able to have him, not even for a moment, because it was forbidden. You were well aware of that, barely holding back before, whether Rafe stood too close, or said something tempting. 
“Hey, uh, have you seen my green–” Rafe burst through the door, freezing in his tracks once he noticed the state you were in. “Sweatshirt?” 
The covers weren’t much of help, as Rafe instantly realized what you were doing. He gulped, feeling himself twitch in his pants, as his fingers clutched around the doorknob. You immediately jumped out of your position once you spotted him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 
Your eyes trailed down to his torso, feeling heat crawl to your face when you noticed his bare chest, out on display. Right, that was a norm, you should’ve been used to it by now.
“What the fuck, dude?” You shot back, heavy breaths escaping your throat. “Can’t you knock?”
“Hmm?” He hummed, too hazed up to process what you were saying. “Right, sorry, I– I should’ve knocked.”
You felt so exposed under his gaze, tugging your bottom lip with guilt as you caught sight of his face. Maybe that was meant to happen, a sign that you shouldn’t have crossed the invisble line you created, pleasing yourself over the thought of your best friend. 
“What do you need?” You muffled out, gulping when his eyes flickered down to your lips. 
“Well, I was jus’ asking if you’ve seen my sweatshirt, but…” He trailed off, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “You seem busy.” 
“I was sleeping.” You replied, though the excuse was not much help. “You– you interrupted.”
“Clearly,” He cocked his head to the side, seeking your gaze with his own, a desperate exhale escaping his parted lips when your eyes wouldn’t meet his. “I’ll leave you to it, then…”
He trailed off, hinting something with his tone. He hesitated to leave, still clutching into the door handle while he stared at you, waiting for you to at least say something, stop him before he does anything stupid and ruin your friendship in the process. 
However, you didn’t, leading the latter to shut the door, the gesture causing you to wince. You gulped, observing as Rafe came to a halt, his back to the door, with his hand yet wrapped around the doorknob. His lips parted with an exhale, fingers finding his jaw as he busied himself with his chin. 
And if you didn’t know him any better, you would’ve thought he was nervous. But he wasn't. You knew Rafe, he was your roommate, after all. 
“What are you doing?” You questioned, voice low enough he could barely hear you. 
Rafe remained silent, leisurely approaching you with haste. Your gaze followed his every move as he came to a halt around the edge of the bed, now towering over you. You fluttered your eyes up at the latter, breath hitching when you noticed the look of despair on his face. 
His fingers hovered beneath your chin, thumb slightly tracing your bottom lip, the fraction causing your mouth to part. He tilted your head with the fingers around your jaw, cursing under his breath once he caught sight of your hazed state, too far gone to comprehend your surroundings. 
“You need help with that?” He questioned, gaze flickering to the shorts that hung low on your waist, able to see them now that he was in your presence. 
“Huh?” You questioned, vision going blurry when his thumb grazed over your teeth. “What do you mean?”
He groaned when your tongue darted out, licking a stripe of his finger, the gesture bold, encouraging him to continue. And he did, inserting his thumb inside your mouth, the sensation of your hot spit coating his finger earning a shuddered exhale out of the boy. 
You swirled your tongue around the digit, driving Rafe over the edge. He imagined your lips wrapped around his cock instead of his finger, the dirty thought causing him to twitch in his pants, fully hard hard by now. 
“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispered, withdrawing his finger from in between your lips, and replaced it with his own as he captured your lips in an open-mouthed kiss. “Can’t believe you’ve never let anyone touch you before.” 
“Is it that hard to believe?” You hushed, lowering your tone to match his. “Are you gonna tease me over it?”
“While that does sound tempting right now,” he smiled over your mouth, littering wet kisses in between his sentence. “I’ll pass, ‘rather focus on you, doll.”
Your face heat up at the pet name, too flustered to respond. You were still in disbelief over this, whatever it was, not expecting anything like this to happen between you two. Fuck, Rafe was kissing you, and you were totally in for it, in fact, your body was speaking faster than your mind, following your needs before you could process it. 
“I’ll guide you through your first time, baby.” He muttered under his breath, knee finding the space in between your legs. He captured the corner of your lips in an open-mouthed kiss, one of his hands toying with the strap of your bra. “Let me make you feel good.” 
“You know,” you trailed off, enjoying the sensation of his fingers tracing the bare skin around your shoulders, the contact like feathers to your flesh. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” 
“Why not?” He asked, hands shifting down to your waist, barely above the hem of your top. “It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong, ‘m only helpin’ you.”
“Jus’ shut up n’ kiss me.” You slurred, wrapping both arms around his neck as you ceased the distance between you. 
A content hum left Rafe’s throat, pressing you down to the bed with the hands around your waist. The latter hovered over you, angling his head to the side to deepen the kiss. A gasp escaped your throat as he nibbled on your bottom lip, the unexpected gesture causing you to part your mouth. 
Rafe saw a chance, and took it, tongue invading the inside of your mouth with the access you granted him, your fingers toyed with the bozzed hair at the back of his head, almost yelping when his cold fingers made contact with the sliver of skin around your stomach. 
You’ve never been touched by a man like this before, Rafe was exploring parts in your body that were meant to be hidden, not for his gaze to admire. Multiple times he had to hold back, watching you innocently walk around the house with a set of pajamas that barely covered anything, revealing all your curves. 
You drove him crazy, with everytime you moved, slightly teased him, told him things no one should know, he wasn’t able to handle it, not with how oblivious you were to the hints he kept dropping. And if he rubbed one out to the thought of you, he wasn’t mentioning it; not to you, that’s for sure.
His fingers toyed with the waistband of your shorts, withdrawing from the kiss to glance down, making you feel shy under his gaze. He tugged the elastic down your side, hissing when his fingers made contact with the warm skin hidden underneath. 
“Fuck, baby.” He groaned, “Get these off, need to see you s’ bad.” 
You moaned at the remark, letting your eyes fall shut as he tugged your shorts down, levelling them with your knees, until he could get a good view of your dripping cunt. A shuddered sigh escaped his lips, fingers instantly finding your folds. 
You gasped at the sensation, arching into the touch, chasing after your pleasure when he moved his hand up your sides, pressing your hips down to the bed. 
“Stay,” He whispered, lips ghosting over yours. “I’m supposed to be helpin’ you, ‘member?”
Right, that skipped over your head. 
“Well then, hurry up and do it.” You whined, almost yelping when his hand hovered over your heat. “Fuck, Rafe, please.”
“Please what?” He question, a teasing grin forming on his lips. “Use your words, baby.” 
“Touch me.” You demanded, words slurring out of your mouth. 
“You know I can’t do that.” He chuckled, retrieving one of your hands from around his neck. “S’ supposed to be your job.”
He guided your hand down to your heat, pressing your fingers to your clit. You moaned, leaning your head back as Rafe moved your digits over your cunt, using his hand to lead you through the rhythm, slow and steady, not too much, in case you grew sensitive to it. 
You desperately shuddered under the touch, gasping when Rafe pressed his hand over yours, the gesture spiraling pleasure throughout your body. His face nuzzled into your neck, littering wet kisses to your throat as he continued pleasing you with his guided hand, leisurenly picking up his (your) pace. 
“Fuck,” you whined, nails digging into the blade of his shoulder, well aware he was waking up with bruises with how much pressure you were applying. “Feels s’ good.” 
“Yeah?” He muffled against your neck, teeth grazing over flesh, before he nibbled right under your jaw. “Am I making you feel good, baby?”
You hummed, too accompanied with your pleasure to respond. You arched into the touch, muffled whines the only thing leaving your throat as Rafe’s fingers traced over your folds, until they found your entrance. 
“Fucking hell,” he grunted, withdrawing from the crook of your neck. “You’re so wet for me, doll.”
Your face heat up at the words, turning your head to the side to avoid looking at the latter. One of his hands slid underneath your shirt, kneading your boob with his fingers. Everything felt overwhelming, whether it was the hand guiding your fingers on your clit, or the one squeezing your breasts, it was too much for you to comprehend with a hazy mind and a blurry vision. 
He managed to get your shirt off with a bit of shuffling, and a bit of help from you; of course, leaving you in only your bra. His mouth salivated at the sight of your breasts, now half on display, only for him to see. 
He swallowed around his throat, fingers toying with the thin material of your bra, using the digits to tug it down, until it exposed your nipple to the chilly air, causing goosebumps to break out across your chest. He rolled it with his thumb, fascinated with how perfectly your boobs sat. 
You jolted under his touch, becoming sensitive to the finger flicking your nipple, growing even more surprised when he leaned down, taking your tit in his mouth. His tongue swirled over your now hardened nipple, letting his spit coat a stripe of your chest. 
Your back arched into Rafe’smouth, eyes forcing shut as his hand found your back, unclipping your bra with a swift gesture. He let the cloth hang loose around your chest, finger dipping beneath the straps around your shoulders, letting them fall down your sides. 
“God,” he grunted, his hot breath fanning over your boob, while his hand toyed with the other, squeezing and kneading the plump flesh. “You’re a fucking mess for me.”
You whined in protest to his words, feeling your pleasure build up, sensing your climax in the process. Rafe’s mouth found your lips once again, capturing them in a lustful kiss. He licked into your mouth, tongue gliding over yours as it met his half way through. 
“I think I’m…” you spoke in between kisses, “Rafe– fuck!”
An audible gasp escaped your throat when Rafe circled your entrance, lining his finger up with your hole. And without a warning, he slipped a finger inside, the new found pleasure mixed with pain alluring you into his trap. 
This was exactly what he wanted, to have you a flustered mess under his touch, show you how good he could make you feel, even if it was wrong, forbidden; in your words.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, parted lips ghosting over yours. “Wanna fuck you so bad, doll.” 
You whined over the statement, picturing the idea of Rafe fucking you stupid, until you no longer were able to remember your name. His finger moved inside you, letting you get used to the digit moving in and out of you. Your hand was back to your side by now, letting Rafe lead you through your built orgasm. 
The latter lined another finger with your hole, slowly letting it insert inside you, using his thumb to rub your clit, merely to distract your mind off the pain, and focus on pleasing you. His pace was slow, steady enough it drove you crazy. 
His fingers continued pumping in and out of you, with you relaxing into the touch once you slightly got used to the digits stretching you out. Rafe picked up his speed when he noticed that, hand growing sloppy inside your dripping hole. 
“Rafe–” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m so fuckin’ close.”
He hummed, littering open-mouthed kissed to your lips as you gasped into his mouth when his fingers hit your g stop. And you were so closer, with his fingers inserting in and out of you, while his thumb rubbed your clit, chasing after your pleasure. 
Your legs trembled as you came undone, shuddering in Rafe’s arms as he walked you through your orgasm. He slowed down his pace, chuckling as a content hum escaped your throat, pulling him down for a quick kiss.
It was sweet, lingering for only a moment before Rafe pulled away, smug smile ghosting over your lips. He withdrew his fingers from your entrance, with you already missing the warmth of his fingers inside. 
He traced his hand over your figure, coming to a halt when he reached your mouth. He parted your lips with his fingers, a silent demand that you shall not deny. You took the digits in your mouth, gliding your tongue over each one, tasting yourself on them. 
Rafe smirked, watching you with despair, a look of want you only got to experience whenever he was hitting on other girls. Yet, here he was, fucking you with his fingers until you came undone. 
He withdrew his fingers, replacing it with his own mouth as he pulled you in for another kiss, this time to taste you on his lips. He smiled against you, satisfied now that he’s able to savor you whole, having explored every inch of your body; though he knew that wasn’t enough. 
“That felt good,” he started, rubbing his thumb over the corner of your face. “Yeah?”
“Mhm, I must say…” you trailed off, slightly growing flustered by his gaze as it burned holes through your skin. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“You think?” He snickered, thumb brushing over your lips. “Should we give it another go, now that you lost your jerk-off virginity?”
“That’s lame,” You chuckled, a knowing smile suppressing its way across your lips. “Hmm, who knows, maybe that’s not the only virginity I’ll be losing tonight.”
“Okay, that’s a lame way of telling me you want me to take your virginity.” He grinned, amused by the embarrassed shove you gave to his shoulder. 
“My god, shut up!” You blushed, hiding your face with your hands. “That’s not what I was sayin’.”
“No yeah, definitely.” He nodded, attempting to get your hands off your face. “Don’t be a brat, baby, look at me.” 
Your hold fell loose around your face, letting Rafe move your hands off, revealing the smile tugging at your lips. He mimicked your action, expression switching into something serious, all while maintaining a teasing grin still. 
“You know, that wasn’t such a bad idea.” He pecked the corner of your lips, leisurely trailing down to your throat, until he nuzzled in the crook of your neck. “Maybe we should test it out.” 
“Test what out, idiot?” You grinned, tilting your head to give Rafe more access to the side of your neck. 
“Lots of stuff,” he muffled, “I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back, now that I got a taste of you.” 
“So, don’t.” You shot back, mouth moving faster than your brain as you responded. “Don’t hold yourself back, ‘m all yours.”
And that was the only sign Rafe needed, ceasing the distance between you before capturing your lips in a kiss, one you don’t think you’ll be able to forget.
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illbegottenfaith · 3 days ago
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bad day - theo nott x reader
a visit from your boyfriend perks you up even on the most frustrating of days
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a/n - my first theo nott fic! I’ve written for other fandom(s) so this was a nice change, hope you enjoy :
tropes/warnings - established relationship, a pet name here or there, nothing overwhelming, fluff, comfort, nothing 18+ but a brief alluding to it
word count - 1k
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“Off.”
As a general rule of thumb, you were typically the clingier half of your relationship with Theo. There was something about the feel of his skin against yours and the way his touch grounded you that made you feel safe and cared for in ways you were still too embarrassed to express out loud. Theo was always happy to indulge, casually draping an arm across your shoulders and rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder.
However, like all rules, it came with its exception - particularly, when you were studying. You needed to focus on your work, and that wasn’t exactly possible with the delicious warmth of Theo pressed against your back or hip. For the most part, he stayed well away when you needed him to, but something about the adrenaline of Quidditch practice made him extra excitable. Which was how you found yourself pouring over a hellish Charms essay in the Slytherin common room late one night, when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your middle and a familiar weight rest in the crook of your neck.
“Theo, I mean it,” you whined as he slid into the seat next to yours, refusing to relinquish his hold on you, effortlessly dragging you onto his lap. Your irritation evaporated at the sight of his boyish blue eyes and his sloping smile. It was a problem, really, how you could never stay mad at him. Merlin knows his ego is bad enough as it is.
“Hey, doll.” His nose nudged yours and you finally relented, wrapping an arm around his neck as he kissed you. His face felt cool against your warm forehead, and he smelt pleasantly of some non-descript yet refreshing soap. 
“My neck is killing me,” you mumbled against his lips as you broke apart. Theo leaned back to get a better look at your wan face, distractedly running a hand down your spine.
“Have you had dinner yet?”
“Yes,” you frowned, “with you. Remember?”
Theo stared at you blankly. “Y/N. I’ve been at Quidditch practice for the past four hours.”
“What are you talking about? We had dinner, then we came up to the common room, and it was, y’know, freezing, and I said I needed to buy more fleece-lined tights, and you started saying something about liking me best without any tights, but then those fifth-years started wrestling each other over that game of -“
“- Gobstones?”
“Exactly!”
“Babe, that was last Thursday.”
Your face fell. “…it was. Merlin.” Theo watched, amused, as you let out a string of curses under your breath as you flipped through your planner, scowling. “It’s this stupid Charms essay that’s doing me in. I haven’t had my head on straight all week. Remember when I wore my earmuffs to breakfast on Tuesday?”
“Mhm.”
“Made a proper arse of myself at 8 in the morning. And I genuinely thought I saw you just an hour ago. I don’t know what came over me.” 
“I didn’t know I was so forgettable of a boyfriend,” Theo teased, as you buried your face into your hands. 
“Stop. I feel awful enough already,” came your muffled voice. Laughing, he took your hands in his own, his features softening at the exhausted look on your face.
“Rough day, baby?” You groaned, burying your face into his chest as he wrapped his other arm around you. Before meeting Theo, you took pride in how fiercely independent you were. Even now, you were more than capable of handling your daily stresses just as well as the next guy, but you still had the tendency of being tightly wound more often than not, and sometimes it just felt nice to have someone hold you while you cried about how awful life was. No one could help you or get you to decompress the way Theo did.
“Rough week, more like,” you mumbled into his collarbone. He hummed sympathetically, hand still running up and down your spine.
“You didn’t say a word.”
“It could have been worse. I thought I’d just…you know. Deal.”
You could hear the amused lilt to his voice. “Deal?”
“Deal with it. On my own, I mean.”
His hold on you tightened a fraction. “Have dinner with me.”
“Didn’t you eat before practice?”
“Hm. Have supper with me.”
“Theo.”
“What?”
You sighed. You were never one to turn in an assignment late but, Merlin - he didn’t make things easy for you. 
“I really need to get this essay done.”
“So you’ll get it done. After supper. I could take a look at it for you. Or your neck. Or both.”
You snorted. “Yeah, sure, because a distraction is just what I need now. You don’t even take N.E.W.T level Charms.”
“So you find me distracting?”
You pressed your lips together, biting the inside of your cheek. “Let me put it this way. If I, um, ‘have supper’ with you now, this essay will not reach Flitwick’s desk by 10 am tomorrow.”
Theo didn't look too happy about anything you were saying. “So what do you want me to do?”
You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Like any other guy, Theo could only sympathise for so long before he was bursting with advice or solutions. You glanced at the clock, getting the distinct impression that he was valiantly trying to stifle a yawn. 
“Go, leave, shoo. Get some rest, read a book, start a fight with some fifth-years, I don’t know. I just need to bully myself into finishing this. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“But I don’t want to start a fight with some sticky-fingered Gobstones-playing fifth-years.”
Still, he reluctantly slid you off his lap, pressing a kiss to your forehead before briefly disappearing. He returned with a huge, ancient book whose weathered cover seemed somewhat related to Potions. He arched an eyebrow as you made a face at it.
“What’s that?”
“What’s that?” You shot back, looking greatly repulsed by the gnarly volume.
“Some light bedtime reading material,” he quipped. You watched his face nervously, the tell-tale signs of fatigue knitted into the creases of his achingly beautiful face.
“I mean it, Teddy. You really should go to bed.”
“Can’t. I’ve got a date in an hour.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah. I’m taking this really pretty girl out for supper.”
You rolled your eyes as Theo settled into his seat, cracking the disfigured tome open.
“Smooth-talker.”
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samandcolbyownme · 2 days ago
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Summary: Who knew you could find a lot more than a basketball game at The Garden.
Warnings: Swearing, heavy flirting, mostly fluff
Word Count: 2.4k | unedited
⊹₊。ꕤ˚₊⊹
“We should probably go find our seats.” You nudge Laura, “I think the game is about to start.”
“We have time, relax.” Laura laughs, “Have you ever been to a basketball game like this before?”
You shake your head, looking around, “No, the only basketball game I’ve been to was my high school team, who absolutely sucked.”
“Well, the Celtics don’t suck.” She looks at you, “That’s who you’re rooting for, right?”
“Well yeah, obviously.” You shake your head and pull your phone out of your pocket. You snap a picture of the court, tagging the team before posting it to your Instagram story.
“Alright. I’ll catch you guys later.” Laura turns around, “I’m so glad you got offered courtside seats.”
“Yeah, I don’t know how. They just dm’d me asking if I wanted to come, I figured it would be fun and I know you like them so.”
“I could kiss you right now.”
You laugh, “That’s okay. I’ll just settle on you buying me dinner afterwards.”
“Oh that’s a good deal.” She glances back at you as she walks towards the steps. You follow her down and find your seats at the end of the court.
You look around, feeling kind of underdressed at some of the other girls are dressed up, heels and all.
“Stop that. You’re good.” Laura nudges you, “You dressed perfect.” You furrow your brows, “How do you know when I do that?”
“I know you.” She smirks, “A little too well, at that.”
“It’s kind of scary.” You laugh, turning your attention back to the court.
Halfway through the first quarter, you pull out your phone, snapping a picture of your jeans, sneakers, and the game that’s going on.
Taking a video and adding it too while you’re at it.
You’re an influencer at a popular basketball game, might as well give them the publicity you think they invited you for, right?
“This is actually quite entertaining.” You lean in to Laura, booing when the crowd boos. You were getting into it.
You bring your phone up, smirking as you see an Instagram notification - Christopher Sturniolo replied to your story.
You angle your phone, smirking at Laura, “Look who just-“
“Girl, you better get on that.” She nods, “What did he say?”
You tap on it, biting your lip as it opens into the thread, if you look closely I’m in the background of that video.
You click on the story and rewatch it, smirking when you see a quick glimpse of Chris. You swipe out and type back, Look at that, you are. Enjoying the game so far?
As you stare down at your phone, Laura nudges you and you look over at her, then to the direction she’s pointing.
A smile washes over your lips as you see Chris, Nate, and Matt on the Jumbotron.
You watch as they all smile and wave and then sure enough, your face is on it. It rapidly changes to a smile, to a shocked expression, then to a happy expression as you and Laura both wave.
“Oh my god that was embarrassing.” You mumble as you sink down into your chair, “I didn’t expect that.”
“We’re beautiful women sitting courtside at a Celtics game, what did you expect, y/n?” Laura laughs and cheers as Nick and Mikayla appear on the screen.
You clap and yell before returning your attention back to your phone, reading Chris’ message, I am, you?
You tap the screen, tilting your head slightly, It’s definitely something new. I’ve never been to one of these games before, but it’s exciting. Go Celtics!🍀
“Oh my god.” You lay your hand over your face, “I’m so stupid. You would think, just by how this conversation was going, I never spoke to this man before in my life.”
Laura turns your phone towards her and she can’t help but giggle, “Noo! That was cute!” You roll your eyes at her and look up at the game that has restarted.
You couldn’t help but find yourself looking for Chris through the moving bodies on the court. It’s not that you and Chris have history, per se.. it’s more or less feelings that neither of you have displayed for one another, yet.
You’ve done a video with them before, and you’ve stayed friends with all of them afterwards, and surprise, you’re more close with Chris than the other two.
You look down at your phone as it vibrates and you can’t help but smile as you click on Chris’ message, Atta girl, but we gotta get you to some more games. You’re from Boston for Christ sake lol.
You smirk as you answer back, Is that you offering to buy my ticket? Because if so, count me in.
“Was that.. too straight forward?” You look at Laura and she shakes her head, “You know what you want, and I say you just better go for it.”
You chew on your cheek, the smirk returning to your lips as you watch the chat bubbles bob up and down before his message comes through, I’ll take you to every one of their games if you don’t mind traveling.
“Oh he is so into you.” Laura mumbles with a smirk, “Ask him to go to dinner afterwards, it can be as a group or whatever so it’s not awkward.”
“I will, just.. give me a second.” You go back to typing out your response, If you think I’d have an issue with traveling, then you clearly don’t know me at all lol
You weren’t even interested in the game anymore, you were more interested into talking to Chris.
Chris responds, there’s another game here on the 12th, I can get us tickets right now. Or the 13th at the Barclays Center in Brooklyn.
You take a deep breath, Why not both? I can get the Brooklyn ones if you want?
You hit send and you bounce your leg, trying to keep your heart from racing out of your chest. You glance over the court, seeing Matt and Nate pick on him for smiling so hard.
“How’s it going?” Laura asks and you shrug, “May have just planned out one if not two dates.”
“look at you go, girl.” She smirks at you and your phone vibrates, sending an excited chill up your spine. He sends a screenshot of the gotten tickets and you smile as you shake your head, Looks like it’s a date, or dates? I don’t know, but I’m excited to understand the world of basketball better.
You look around, clapping when the fans wearing Celtic clothing clap. Your attention is ripped from the game instantly as soon as you feel the vibration, hell it wasn’t even on it anyway, Well, since we finally scheduled a date, I guess it’s safe for me to say you look gorgeous tonight.
You purse your lips as your cheeks heat up, It was safe before, way before lol, but thank you. You look good in green, it almost makes up for the shots you took earlier.
You and Chris are always teasing each other, so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for one of you to start picking.
You look up, watching him cover his face as he laughs, turning to tell Nate and Matt, what you assume is what you said you saw.
Ohh fuck, you saw that? Now it’s even more embarrassing.
You can’t help but giggle, You were under a lot of pressure, we know lmao.
It’s almost like Chris wasn’t interested in the game either anymore, he would answer back almost instantly, Yeah, the pressure. We’ll go with that. Do you have any Celtics merch?
You glance down from the game, Look over and see.
You set your phone down and move your hair out of the way of the Celtics logo on your white crew neck. You stare over at Chris and he gives you a smile, raising his hand to give you a thumbs up.
He looks back down at his phone and yours vibrates, I like that also you know what I just realized? I have your number, why are we talking through insta?
You laugh slightly, I honestly have no idea.
Right after you hit send, you get a text from him, Hi.
You smirk, Hi, how’s the game?
“Moved onto texting I see.” Laura teases as she sits back down, “Here.” She hands you a drink, “Figured you could somehow manage to quench your thirst a-“
“Alright.” You cut her off, “You’re going to make me blush even more.” You laugh and take a sip before you steal some of her popcorn, “I didn’t even know you left.”
“You’ve been glued to your phone, I didn’t want to interrupt anything.” She smirks and shakes her head, “It’s about damn time something happens between the two of you.”
“Shut up.” You roll your eyes and look down at your phone, I don’t know, I haven’t been paying that much attention to it honestly.
Same here. I’ve been a little distracted, you look around, realizing that it’s halftime, “Huh, halftime. That was fast.”
“Well th-“
“Can it.” You laugh, “I know.” You look down and bring your phone up to read your new text, Distracted by what, ma?
You glance up at him, smiling slightly when you see Chris actually paying attention to the game. You look back down and type, Oh you know, just by this cute guy finally asking me out on a date, I’ve only been waiting for.. oh I don’t know.. months now.
You hit send and immediately look back up, giving Matt a weird face when he looks at you with a smirk.
He laughs and your attention turns back to Chris, who immediately picks up his phone and starts smiling like an idiot, Months huh? Man that guy fucking sucks.
You let out a slight laugh, He definitely made up for it though, well almost….
You look up, watching some of game while it takes Chris all of two seconds to reply, Almost huh?
You answer back just as fast, I mean, yeah. He bought me tickets to see two basketball games and I’m just hoping he’d ask me to dinner after this one, but we’ll see how it goes.
Your heart was racing. You’ve always thought that the two of you were better off as friends, but now that you think about it, you were always each others, just never official.
“God you guys just need to meet at half court and have a passionate kiss.” Laura smirks, tilting her head, “That would actually be so romantic, all of the people cheering you guys on.” She sighs, “I need to find a boyfriend.”
You laugh, “As much as I would love that, I think we’ll settle on keeping the pda to a minimum.. for now.” You smirk and look down at your phone, Do you want to grab dinner after this y/n?
I would love to, Chris, you smirk and nudge Laura, “I have a date after this.”
“About damn time.”
“You’ve said that already.” You laugh, looking around. You clap and cheer, glancing up at the scoreboard to see the Celtics leading, “Hey, we’re winning.”
“I’ve known that.” She laughs, “I’m not in world Y/n Sturniolo.” She looks at you, “That has a nice ring to it.”
“Don’t rush things.” You look away, tilting your head as you think about it, “It does though, doesn’t it.” You laugh, looking back at her.
You look down, tapping on the text, If you want you can meet me over here when the game is over, that way we’re not swimming through the crowd up there trying to find each other.
Laura and I drove separate, so that works out perfect, and hey. Celtics are winning!!
“I guess it’s a good thing we drove separate.” Laura laughs and you show her your phone, “I literally just said that to Chris.”
She laughs, “Oh my god.”
You laugh, shaking your head, “We are one.”
“Kinda scary.” She looks at you and you both break out into laughter, quickly switching to cheering and clapping when the Celtics score more points.
You could really get into this basketball scene.
You get another text from Chris, that’s because you’re just a lucky charm🍀
You smile, We’ll see if that’s the case on our second and third date. You set your phone down, turning towards Laura, “Is this actually happening?”
She nods with a smile, “It is. Do you want me to pinch you?”
“No, no.” You stop her as she reaches over and you laugh, “I believe you.”
Chris texts back, I’m ready for this game to end now haha, you glance up at the scoreboard, texting back, Just a little bit longer, I think you’ll make it.
You see the texts bubbles pop up, I don’t know, I have a date with this really pretty girl and to me that’s more exciting than this basketball game.
You feel your cheeks heating up and you quietly inhale as you type, Aww, you can be nice.
Yeah I thought the same thing about you.. kidding kidding.
You laugh, shaking your head and you jump slightly as the buzzer goes off. The fans uproar with excitement as the Celtics win and you stand up, cheering, clapping and jumping around with Laura.
You bring your phone up, Guess what? Games over.
You tuck your phone into your pocket and look at Laura, “Do you want to walk over with me and then we can all walk out together?”
She nods, “Yeah, that’ll probably be best.”
You make your way around the court, weaving in and out of people while you look for Chris through the crowd. You spot him, keeping your eyes locked on his as you lead Laura with you.
You give him a smile as you walk up to him, “Hey.” You look at Nate then Matt, giving them a smile, “Hey, guys.”
Chris immediately takes your hand into his and interlocks your fingers, “Ready?”
You give his hand a squeeze and you nod, “Ready.”
⊹₊。ꕤ˚₊⊹
Thank you so much for reading, I know absolutely nothing about basketball, so sorry if nothing makes sense, but I tried to just keep it focused on texting Chris. I hope you enjoyed! I love you and I will catch you in the next one! 🖤
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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katiascraft · 10 hours ago
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“If I define her I limit her” | CL16
Parings: Charles Leclerc x Actrees!Gf!Reader.
Summary: you go together to the Gladiator || premier because your best friend Paul Mescal invited you. You didn’t expect Charles being so sweet talking about you on interviews.
Word count: +1k.
Warnings: none! Just fluff and more fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.
Author’s note: I HAD TO DO IT. so I was inspired not only by Charles looking breathtakingly beautiful but from Chino Darin I LOVE THAT MAN 🫦 now I gotta go back to study UNLIVE ME Don’t forget to like, reblog, comment! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)
MASTERLIST
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You were so excited to assist at the premier of the movie your fav person alive aka your bestie aka paul mescal was starring in. He invented the ferrari boys alongside you. Everything was so elegant - you were lucky enough to be wearing a high fashion valentino black dress - you felt a little intimidated like every time you stepped on a red carpet. Of course, you are an actress but still couldn't get used to this side that is part of your job.
Charles holded your hand gently at the red carpet while you were walking into the people circulating there. Behind you were Carlos and rebecca. But when you say Gracie - paul´s girlfriend - you part ways to say hi. Unfortunately Charles couldn't go with you because a reporter asked him and Carlos to join for a brief interview.
“Good evening, gentlemen. Looking good as ever i can see” the reporter said causing charles to giggle a little.
“What can I say ? We sweat all year so it's good to smell good once in a while,” Charles said, making the reporter laugh along with carlos. He asked a few generic questions about the break until the last three races of the championships and the invitation and expectations for the movie.
“So Charles, what's your favorite thing about london?” the reporter asked, making Charles smile but he didn't have to think about it.
“To be honest, my wife” he said grinning, making Carlos giggle a little looking at him. He has love written all over his face.
“How romantic, is she your wife already?” The reporter moved the microphone closer thinking he had breaking news. Charles laughed, nodding.
“I mean , not yet but she will, of course” he answered nervously and blushing like a little kid in love. That's the effect you had on him.
“How wonderful it is for you to say your favorite thing about London is your girlfriend. How would you define her as a person or professional?” the reporter was just as in love with him probably as you were.
“Oh well, if i define her i limit her to be honest. She is amazing at everything she does. As a person and as a professional” Charles answered without thinking. He couldn't define you, how could he? You were this huge force that made him feel things he didn't even know he could feel. You were so powerful in his eyes. Magical. He couldn't define you because defying you would be an actual crime. You're bigger than everything.
“Oh mate” Carlos expressed, making Charles giggle.
“What a lovebird, did y/n come with you?” the reporter continued.
“yeah yeah i don't know exactly where she is now but somewhere around here. We were invited thanks to her to be honest,” Charles explained.
“Lets see if we can find her in a minute.so carlos…” the interviewer followed with some questions around Carlos now. Charles listened to him but his mind was on you. He looked around looking for you just to see you. He spotted you after a few minutes talking lively with Grace and he smiled to himself. You looked so beautiful and happy.
You started going your way after a little chat with Gracie and found charles and carlos along with rebecca on a corner waiting for you. You walked across the carpet straight to them. When Charles saw you coming his face lightened up in adoration.
“Hey gang, let's go” you said happily, taking Charles hand in yours. So you found your way into the carpet. Flashes met you when you entered the photo section. You posed with Charles smiling for the cameras. Everyone screaming your names for your attention so they could get a picture of you. You still got nervous with this. But having him next to you just made everything better. You felt more relaxed. More secure and confident.
When you finished the photo section another round of reporters was set. This time you knew you couldn't escape. A reporter a few feet away from you called you so you looked at Charles to check if he wanted to join or wait but he confidently followed you along.
“Good evening guys, how are you feeling about tonight?” she asked firstly. You smiled. Charles let you answer he knew you were the star tonight. And also, this was not his element.
“We're excited. I'm anxious to watch the movie already. I know it's gonna be amazing” you said sweetly gently stroking charles hand with you to calm your nerves and his. It's probably the first time you are being interviewed together.
“y/n i dont know if you heard but charles” she started talking to you but then directed to charles “ you mentioned she was your wife and couldn't define her because i quote if i define her i limit her. She is just amazing in everything she does. y/n what do you have to say?” she asked you. You looked at Charles in a sweet simple surprise but flustered. Your thoughts all over the place and your cheeks turned red.
“Oh wow, what can I say? I have the best husband in the world that's for sure” you said proudly making him giggle. “And I can say I love him and I'm so glad he's here with me. But I couldn't define him either. He is everything and more to me” your answer made charles smile so proudly and fondly. His eyes went crystal looking at you. He was so in love with you. Just as you were. He was the love of your life and you loved that you could be yourself with him with no filters and this life that was as complicated as his.
“Oh wow, such lovebirds! You guys need to win couple of the year!” she said excitedly, making you both giggle and thanked her to start walking again.
“Babe you really said that? I want to cry, you can't be so cute. I love you with every fiber on my body. Stop being so perfect it should be a crime” you made him laugh looking at you so enamored.
“Of course, cherie. You are the most amazing person I know and I admire you so much. Im proud of you” he said to lean over you and kissed you gently.
“I love you charlie. You're the best that ever happened to me” you responded in his lips and giggled.
You will need to fix your lipstick before the next interview.
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katsu28 · 1 day ago
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summer's golden haze - chapter four
pairing: lando norris x reader
summary: a confession, a second first date, and the start of something special. (4.8k)
a/n: happy birthday landooo!!! my gift to him is a girlfriend 🙂‍↕️
previous chapter | masterlist
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A loud clang from the kitchen startles you from your sleep, blinking awake to a still dark room.
Your head throbs a little bit, but the headache isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. It’s easy to ignore, especially since your mind is occupied by the snoring boy sprawled out under you. 
Lando’s fast asleep on his back, one arm slung over your torso loosely while the other hangs off the end of the sofa above his head, legs tangled with yours. You don’t remember cuddling up like this during the night, but you’re not complaining. He’s warm and comfy, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest soothing. 
You almost don’t want to get up, but your curiosity about the noises coming from the kitchen wins out in the end. Very carefully, you wiggle out from under his arm, peeling yourself away from him as slow as you can so as to not wake him. 
Once you’ve successfully extracted yourself, you can’t help but drop a kiss to Lando’s forehead before you go, pushing his curls away from his browline to do so. He lets out a little sigh, rolls onto his side, but remains deep in slumber as you pad out of the room. 
The ruckus turns out to be Camille puttering around the kitchen making coffee—an essential hangover cure.
“Sorry, sorry, I was trying to be quiet. Did I wake you?” She hisses, cringing. You wave an absentminded hand, stifling a yawn as you plant yourself on a stool at the counter.
She slides a mug of coffee towards you and you gladly accept, leaning over the steam wafting from the piping hot drink. It’s taking all of your willpower not to gulp it all down in one go and burn your throat. 
Camille lets you sip and sit as you attempt to wake yourself up a little more, but you can tell she’s dying to say something. You sigh. “Say what you wanna say.”
“Oh thank god. I hate you for making me wait more than five seconds, but whatever. Anyways, Lando stayed over last night?”
“Mhm, yeah. He did.” You bob your head noncommittally, staring hard at the dark liquid in your cup. Despite your laser focus, you can still feel Camille’s eyes boring into the top of your head, and when you finally do look up at her, she’s looking at you very pointedly. “What? We talked for a bit, and then we fell asleep.” 
“And that’s all that happened?” 
“Uh…” Your voice goes higher pitched than necessary, one eye squinting shut. You want to tell her everything, but you haven’t had the chance to speak with Lando yet. You’re not sure what “everything” entails yet.
Lando shuffles into the kitchen right at that moment, rubbing furiously at his eye with one hand while the other scratches at his stomach aimlessly. He extends his arms high over his head in a loud yawn and stretch combo, in doing so revealing a strip of tanned torso that has you nearly choking on your sip of coffee. 
That earns you two confused, yet amused looks, for wildly different reasons. 
“Hot.” You say lamely, in a very poor explanation. Lando’s expression turns slightly smug. “The coffee. Burned my tongue.” 
“Morning, sunshine!” Camille chirps happily. Knowingly. She beams at Lando and it stops him in his tracks, blinking unsurely at her chipper form like he’s hallucinating instead of responding. “Cool, just stare at me like I’m an alien.” 
“Sorry, I just—how are you not hungover right now? You could barely walk straight last night,” He asks incredulously. 
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She hums, winking at him. 
Lando pulls himself onto the stool next to yours with a groan, but doesn’t hesitate to give you the best smile he can muster in greeting. “Morning. How’d you sleep?” 
“Good,” You say softly, wrapping your hands around the mug in front of you. “You?” 
“Really good. Best sleep I’ve had in months, actually.” 
“On a shitty couch with no back support? Interesting.” 
Lando checks to see that Camille isn’t paying any attention before he responds. “Maybe it was the company.” 
You feel your cheeks blaze hot under his intense gaze, but you can’t bring yourself to break eye contact with him. You still need to address what happened last night. It’s still something you haven’t quite wrapped your head around yet, and you feel the need to stall so you can gather your thoughts some more. 
“Coffee’s fresh on, if you want some,” You blurt. 
Lando takes your reaction in stride, as if he senses you need time. “Oh, that sounds amazing right now.” 
Instead of going to pour himself his own cup, he eases yours out of your hands and takes a hefty sip from it in one fell swoop, before you can even tell him it’s just coffee. He doesn’t like plain black coffee. Then he shudders, face scrunching up in adorable disgust. “Blegh. Needs milk. Sugar, too.” 
“That’s because it’s mine, and I happen to think it’s just fine the way it is, thank you very much.” 
“You don’t wanna share?” 
Your nose crinkles in the same way his had a few moments ago. “Not if you’re going to dump a fuckton of sugar in it.”
“Not a fuckton! Just a spoon or two. Maybe three.” 
“Get your own, Norris.” You roll your eyes playfully, and Lando cocks his head in challenge, lifts your mug back to his lips for another long sip, this time obnoxiously loud. Paired with the adorable crooked troublemaker’s grin, you have to fight the need to kiss him again. 
You want to, but you can’t. Not yet. 
Samira and Maren trudge in a little while later, looking much worse for wear than you all. Neither of them even have it in her to reply to any of your good morning’s, only to make it over to pour themselves a generous mugs of coffee. 
“See, that’s what I thought you lot would be like right now,” Lando says, waving a hand at your two zombies of friends. “That’s what normal people are like after hitting up four bars in a night, you psychopaths.”
“If my head wasn’t pounding right now, I’d punch you in your pretty boy face,” Samira grumbles, glaring at him through bleary eyes. “What’re you even doing here, anyways?” 
“Who d’you think brought you all home last night?” 
“Then why do I remember Max doing a horrible rendition of We Belong Together by Mariah Carey?” Maren groans, face screwing up in confusion. 
In perfect timing, you hear the front door open, and then Max’s booming voice.
“Your savior has arrived!” He saunters into view with his hands behind his back, as if he’s hiding something behind him. The closer he gets, the more you can smell something mouthwatering wafting from whatever he’s just brought. 
“Speak of the devil and he shall appear, I guess,” Camille chuckles. 
Max juts his lower lip out, smacking one hand over his heart. “Aw, you guys were talking about me? All good things, I hope.” 
“Always, mate,” Lando assures him, but not without shooting you a cheeky wink as soon as his friend turns away. 
“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Samira grits out, glaring at no one in particular. “You’re all being way too loud right now.” 
“Guess that means you don’t want the food I brought?” 
“...What is it?” 
“Sugar and carbs.” 
“Hand over the box right now and you’re forgiven.”
The four of them get into some other conversation quickly after that, giving Lando the privacy to lean over towards you, lips nearly ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Think we can slip out and have that talk now?” 
You cast a glance at your friends fighting over the pastries in the box. They won’t even notice you’re gone. 
Lando’s mouth is on yours as soon as you’re out of sight and earshot, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You almost forget what you’re supposed to be doing, but catch the thought at the last second before it slips away. 
“Mm, Lando, hold on—” You mumble, splaying a hand flat across his chest. He lets out a distracted sound of question, squeezing at your waist. “Less kissing, more talking,” You chide. 
Lando pouts, but obliges, taking a step back to put just the smallest bit of space between you. “Fine, fine, I’m listening.” 
“Look, I don’t—I’m not normally one to do things that scare me. And when you told me who you were, I immediately shut down because I thought no, that’s not me. I can’t do that, that’s too scary to be me. I wanted to play it safe.” 
His heart beats strongly under your palm, if not a little quicker than usual with your fingers curled into the softness of his rumpled jumper.
You’re not looking at his face right now. With how vulnerable you’re being with him right now, you aren’t sure that you’ll be able to utter the words if you look him in the eye. 
Instead, you’ve got your gaze trained on his hand on top of yours, the collection of bracelets on his wrist that you remind yourself to ask about another time. 
“Getting to know you, realizing how much I like you, I think it also made me realize that life is too short to always play it safe. Some people are worth stepping out of my comfort zone for. What we are, what we could be—you’re worth stepping out of my comfort zone for,” You say softly, but firmly. 
It’s nothing but the absolute truth. You’re putting yourself out there in a way you’ve never had the courage to do before. But Lando, he gives you courage. He makes you want to try. 
“So this is me, doing something scary, asking if you’ll…take a chance on me?” 
Only then do you muster up the courage to look him in the eye, and when you do, you’re met with the biggest, most smitten grin you’ve ever seen grace his face. Dimples on full display, eyes squinted with happiness, he’s smiling so hard it almost looks like it hurts. 
“I’ll take every chance I’ve got on you,” He says earnestly, cupping your face in both hands. “And if I’ve got none left, I’d find some more, ‘cause you’re worth it a hundred times over.” 
“Sorry it took me so long to figure my shit out,” You say sheepishly. 
 He gestures towards himself suggestively, waggling his eyebrows. “I knew you couldn’t resist all this for long.”
“You’re so dumb,” You scoff, shaking your head at his antics. Even so, your affection for him has never been clearer. You may say he's dumb (you know he isn’t), but he’s yours now. He’s yours now and you've never been more excited to see what’ll happen. 
“Well, you like me, so…guess you’ve just got to deal with it.” 
“Yeah? And what do you think I should do about that?” 
“What do I think? You wanna know what I think? I think you should…” He trails off, pushing in closer, closer, closer, until his mouth hovers a millimeter from yours. Careful fingers tilt your chin up to guide you the rest of the way, meeting your lips gently. 
You’d kiss Lando all day if you had the time, just because now you can, but there’s still the issue of the when and how you’re going to tell your friends. Reluctantly, you pull away. “We should get back before they notice we’re missing.”  
“Probably, yeah.” You wait for him to move but he doesn’t. He just looks at you like he can’t believe you’re real. 
“What?” You reach up hastily in an attempt to smooth out your hair. “Do I look okay?” 
“You look perfect.”
“Stop being so sweet. I mean, do I look like I’ve just been kissed within an inch of my life?” 
“I’m taking that as a compliment.” 
You press one more quick peck to his lips in lieu of a response, giving his hand another squeeze before turning on your heel to head back. Lando follows behind like a puppy, close but not too close. 
All eyes are on you the second you step back into the room, four pairs flicking from Lando to you, back to him, then back to you. Granted, it probably would’ve been a smarter idea to return at separate times so as to not raise suspicion, but it’s too late for that now. 
“...What?” You try for a lighter tone to throw them off, tilting your head to the side. 
One second passes. Two, three, four seconds. You almost think you can pull this off. Then—
“You fuckers!” Maren huffs, seeming much more alert and awake now. “You couldn’t have waited another day to get your shit together?” 
Definitely not the reaction you were envisioning in your head, if you’re being honest. 
“‘Scuse me?” Lando asks, looking both bewildered and a little bit offended by the outburst. He aims a sideways glance at you for an explanation that you can’t provide.
All it does is confuse you, but for some reason, Samira begins to giggle uncontrollably. Even Max looks a mixture of happy and smug. 
“I just lost thirty bucks to Max because of you two!” 
“You bet on us? What the fuck, mate!” Lando exclaims incredulously. 
Max lets out an offended noise from the back of his throat. “You expect me not to take my chances on easy money? Get real, mate. I can give you a cut of it if it gets your knickers out of a twist.” 
“What they mean is, we’re glad you finally figured out you belong together,” Camille says earnestly, only a tad apologetic. Lando takes this moment to sling an arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his side and pressing a kiss to your temple. 
“Right, well, in other news, I actually came over here with a purpose other than providing joy to everyone,” Max interrupts the tender moment, clapping once. “Lando, we’ve got Keegan’s thing today, so we gotta, y’know—gotta get going, yeah?” 
Lando inhales sharply, shoulders slumping. “Right. Fuck, I forgot about that.” 
“Yeah, I know you did. Too busy wooing your lady and all,” Max teases, aiming a wink in your direction that has you throwing up a playful middle finger at him. Lando turns to face you, frowning. 
“I’m sorry, I’ve gotta—I wish I could stay, I really do. I totally spaced on this thing one of our mates has going on today, we promised we’d go—” 
“It’s okay, Lando,” You say, endeared by his scrabbling for an explanation. He didn’t really need one to begin with, but it’s cute that he feels the need to explain himself. “Go do your thing. I’ll see you when you’ve got time.” 
“You’re the best. How did I get so lucky?” He sighs, dramatically dreamy. Humor twinkles in his eyes. 
“Bye,” You chuckle, moving to peel yourself away from him. You want to get in on one of the pastries Max had brought before they’re gone. 
“Wait, wait.” Lando slips his fingers through yours, tugging lightly to stop you before you can get even a few steps away. “Before I go. Do you have any dinner plans tonight?” 
Your brows pinch in the middle. “No. Why?” 
“I want a do over of our first date. One that doesn’t end in…y’know.” You hum in thought, like you’re even contemplating turning him down, and he lets out a little frustrated whine that makes you giggle again. “Come on, let me take you out. Wanna wine and dine you properly, baby.” 
The term of endearment rolls off his tongue so easily, so casually, like he’s called you it all along. It makes you concede. 
“Where are we going?” 
“That’s for me to figure out before tonight,” He hums. You raise a semi-skeptical brow. “I’ve got ideas, I swear! Just wear something pretty and be ready by seven. I’ll be by to pick you up then.” 
“Okay.” You nod. Lando perks up, beaming bright. He kisses you again, briefly but enthusiastically, before turning to follow Max towards the front door. “See you tonight. And you better not be late!” 
“Wouldn’t dream of it!” 
The rumble of a car driving away echoes out soon after the two boys disappear from sight.
You sigh lightly, returning your attention back to the enticing box of pastries on the counter. You pray the one that had been calling your name in the little peek you'd gotten when Max first handed them over is still there. 
Your hand gets smacked as you eagerly reach for the box, not hard enough to bruise but hard enough to make you curse. You look up to see all three girls waiting expectantly for you to fess up and tell them how you’d gone from awkwardly avoiding Lando to what they'd just witnessed. 
“Can I at least eat first?” They shake their heads firmly, and you whine. “What? Come on, I’m starving!” 
“Explain, then eat.” 
Your shoulders creep up towards your ears in a shrug. Seeing as it was kind of just a gut feeling more than anything, it’s a little hard to articulate with words. You try your best at it anyways.
“I…realized I was making a mistake by walking away because I was scared. You guys know I’ve never been great with change, but I dunno, maybe change is okay sometimes.” 
“Oh my god, our girl is growing up.” 
-------
The closer it gets to seven, you find your nerves growing with every tick, tick, tick of the clock. You’re not even sure why. It’s just dinner, and it’s just Lando. You’re comfortable with Lando. You like Lando. 
So why does it feel like you’re about to do something so much bigger than that? 
Dinner might as well mean canon event in your mind. Things with Lando are literally brand new, not even a full day old yet, but it feels like something monumental. Your first date ended in shambles (thanks to your own doing), so the urge to make sure this one goes perfect is high.
The pressure is on, and you don’t do too well under pressure. That doesn’t even include the fact that your feelings for him are stronger than anything you’ve felt for anyone before. 
The moment Lando pulls up in front and you lay eyes on him climbing out of the car though, all your worries start to melt away. He looks so happy to see you again, even though you haven’t even been apart for a full day. It makes you remember that there’s no reason to get all worked up about anything with him.  
“Hey, you,” He says, leaning in to wrap an arm around your waist as soon as he’s close enough. “Missed your face today.” 
“Just my face?” You tease.
Lando’s head lists to one side, nose scrunching adorably. “Maybe other parts of you too.” Your eyebrows lift towards your hairline amusedly at his words and he groans, nudging you gently in the ribs with a large hand. “Oh, get your head out of the gutter! I didn’t mean it like that.” 
You giggle, dotting a kiss to his pouting lips. “So what’d you come up with for our second first date?” 
“Why don’t you get in the car and see?” He offers out his arm and you take it gladly, accepting his help into the car too. You think he’s about to start the car when he slides into the driver’s seat, but he catches you by surprise by sneaking in another kiss instead. “You look amazing.”
“You clean up pretty well yourself,” You shoot back. He’s gone for simple but put together with a classic white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and some dark trousers, and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t pull them off fantastically. 
“All for you, baby.” He grins, winking boyishly. “I got us a reservation at the nicest restaurant in town. Well, nicest according to the loads of travel blogs me and Max looked at. Fancy seeing if Greek summer gal dot com knows what she’s talking about?” 
“With a name like that, how ever could she be wrong?” You play along, lacing your fingers through his. He dots a kiss to your temple. 
Lando chats about his day on the way into town, all the way until his phone rings. His brow furrows, and for a split second you think it might be work calling again. If it is, you have half a mind to answer it yourself and chew them out. 
“Sorry, d’you mind seeing who it is?” Lando lifts himself off the seat, shoving a hand into his pocket to squeeze his buzzing phone out and passing it to you. A wildly unflattering photo of Max flashes across the screen. 
“It’s Max. Want me to answer?” You offer, giggling at the silly sight. He nods gratefully, keeping his eyes on the road. You tap the accept call button, putting the other boy on speaker. 
“What’s up, mate?” Lando says, hitting you with a ‘get a load of this guy’ sort of look. “Kinda in the middle of something here.” 
“Yeah I know, that’s why I’m calling. You can’t go to that restaurant.” 
Lando’s expression morphs into one of confusion, one you’re sure that you’re mirroring as you squint back at him. “Uh…sure we can. I made a reservation, everything’s set already.” 
“I know, asshole!” Max huffs. “Someone must’ve leaked your name on the reservation to the press or something, ‘cause I just drove by a few minutes ago and it’s crawling with people. Like, swamped with paparazzi and fans.” 
Lando’s knuckles tighten on the steering wheel, face screwing up into something between anger and despair. “Shit. That’s not good.” 
“Just thought I’d let you know before you get there,” Max says. He sounds guilty, but he has no reason to be. You’re glad he’d been able to get a hold of Lando beforehand. “You can still go out, just…maybe find somewhere else to go, I dunno.” 
“Thank you, Max,” You chime in. 
“Yeah, thanks for the heads up, mate. Cheers.” 
Lando flicks on his blinker to pull off to the side of the road the first chance he gets after Max hangs up, and when he does turn the car off, he immediately goes to bang his head against the steering wheel. “This is so bad,” He groans. 
You smooth a hand down his back in an attempt to soothe him. “It’s fine, Lando. We can just go somewhere else.” 
“I wanted this so badly to go perfect, and again, I’m the reason why it’s all going to shit.” 
“It’s not going to shit. And you wouldn’t be the reason for it, even if it was,” You insist firmly. He straightens up in his seat, turning to face you with doubt crinkling his face that you immediately want to rid him of. Your hand finds his, prying his fingers off the steering wheel to intertwine. “I mean it. I don’t care that we’re not going to some fancy restaurant. All I care about is that we’re together.” 
Lando squeezes your hand, bringing it up to his lips to press a grateful kiss to your knuckles. “You’re too good for me, you know that?”
“I know.” You shrug, feigning nonchalance. It makes him chuckle, brings back the twinkle in his eye.
After driving for a bit, you eventually find yourselves at a little gyro spot to grab some food. You push open the door to get out once Lando has put the car to a stop, but at the very last moment, you turn back to face him. 
“You should probably stay here,” You say, gnawing on your lip. 
Lando pouts, but doesn’t make a move to exit the car. He must know it’s for the best. Even so, he digs out his wallet, pressing a few bills into your hand. You click your tongue, giving your head a shake. “Don’t look at me like that. I asked you to dinner, I pay for it.”
“Alright, fine.” 
“Mint. Get me something good?”
“‘Course I will. Salmon, right?” You quip, smiling innocently. His hatred for fish is something you’ll never tire of poking fun at him for. 
“Don’t even joke about that, you monster!” Lando exclaims, slapping a dramatic hand over his chest. You laugh out loud. “And don’t you think about getting fish either, or I’ll never kiss you again.”
“Well, someone’s dramatic!”
“I’m serious!” 
You leave him behind at that, giggling to yourself about his theatrics.
The lady working the counter in the little mom and pop gyro shop is very kind, compliments your outfit and calls you a beautiful young woman while you wait on your food—even gives you an order of veggie kroketes, on the house.
She kind of reminds you of your own mother, whom you make a mental note to call when you have the time. You’ve been having such a good time here, you’ve nearly forgotten the rest of your world outside of it.
You wind up finding someplace not far away to enjoy your food once you’ve gotten it. A hidden spot, a little off the road—not a place anyone would come across unless they were looking hard enough. Perfect for two people who’d rather not attract attention. 
Lando procures a beach towel from the boot of the car for the two of you to sit on as you eat. 
“I’m sorry about the restaurant again. I usually don’t use my actual name when I do things like that, but they were just about booked up and I really wanted us to go, so I did,” He sighs, tracing a finger along the patterned cotton. “I had no idea it’d get leaked, I swear. Guess I should’ve seen it coming.”
“Does that usually work? Using your name to get things.” 
Lando’s cheeks flush pink and he smiles guiltily, ducking his head momentarily before nodding. “Usually, yeah. I don’t do it often though. Almost never, really. Only for special things, and this…well, I wanted it to be just that. Special.” 
“It is special,” You say, letting your knee bump his. 
He scoffs lightly like he doesn’t think the same, lifting his half eaten wrap in the air. “We’re sat on the side of the road eating takeaway.”
Even a date like this truly is something special to you. Spending time with the person you’ve become so close with in such a short amount of time—the one who makes you feel things you’ve never felt before, who makes you feel like you can truly be yourself—it’s something you were starting to think you’d never have. Lando’s come along and changed all that. 
“Do you think you have to impress me?” Lando doesn’t say anything, just lets his mouth snap shut, but you can see it in his eyes that yes, he feels the need to impress you. You’re not sure why, but you suspect it has less to do with you and more to do with his own feelings. “Because you don’t. I couldn’t care less about your name, your money, or anything else that comes with it. I like you for you, not for what your status can get us.” 
Lando stares back at you long and hard, as if he’s searching you for any ounce of indication that you’re not telling him the truth. You’re certain he’ll find nothing, because even though you’re still getting to know each other—flaws, fears, and all—you’ll never lie to him. 
“I’m sorry,” He says eventually. “I dunno why I thought—” He cuts himself off with a shake of the head. “Y’know what, nevermind. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be better.” 
 “You don’t need to be better,” You hum, resting your head against his shoulder. “You just need to be you.” 
“Has anyone ever told you you’re really good at this pep talk thing?” 
“Never had to give anyone this many pep talks before.” 
Lando pokes his fingers into the ticklish spot between your ribs in response. You reach to bat away his hand, but he moves quicker, leaning in to drag his nose against your cheek. 
“Is now a bad time to tell you I did actually get the fish?” 
Lando rears his head back faster than you could’ve imagined, looking so absolutely horrified at your insinuation it has you breaking composure almost instantly. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was two seconds away from gagging out loud. “No you did not.” 
“I didn’t, but wouldn't it have been funny if I did?” 
“That is so not cool,” He grumbles, lips pulling into a pout. You have the urge to kiss it away and you fight it for a moment, but then you remember you can kiss him whenever you want, so you do. It seems to make him forget about his disgust, because he kisses you back immediately. 
You’re one who’s dazed when you finally resurface for air, but you manage to smile sweetly. “Better now?” 
“Getting there. Maybe a little longer would help.” 
“Just a little longer?” 
“A lot longer works too.” 
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planetpedri · 2 days ago
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Can I ask for PABLO GAVI x reader were the reader is jealous thank you💓
Jealousy, jealousy — Pablo Gavi.
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Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Fem!Reader
Summary: You didn’t consider yourself a jealous person.. but seeing another girl cozy up to your boyfriend was not making you feel very happy.
Word count: 930+
Disclaimer/s: jealousy , banter , light amount of angst if even that to happy ending.
A/N: i lowk hated this sorry but it’s happier than my last post so..
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Your jaw could snap with how hard it was being clenched. It wasn’t unusual for women to show your boyfriend special attention, he was a handsome footballer after all, but you’d never seen such a touchy interaction. You were on a date for God’s sake! Could she not tell?
There was a candle in the middle of the table, he was in a suit, you in a dress, it was quite obvious. The woman, a brunette with the most stunning eyes, had her hand resting on his bicep, giggling as she asked him a question.
If you were in a cartoon, you were sure there would be steam blowing out of your ears. Taking in a long breath, you force a smile before standing up from your seat and walking around the table to where they stood.
“Excuse me?” You butt in politely, though there was a bit of a bite in your words. “Babe, our foods getting cold.” You turn your attention toward your boyfriend, forcing your words out through gritted teeth.
The woman’s face falters, her throat bobbing. “Oh. You’re on a date?” She looks back up at Gavi, disappointment evident in the way her eyebrows furrowed.
“Yeah..” Gavi was watching you curiously, his eyes trailing over your expression. “This is my girlfriend.” His arm wraps around your waist.
A smug smile forms on your lips as you look from Gavi to the brunette. “If you wouldn’t mind, i’d like to steal my boyfriend back?”
“Oh!” Her mouth pursed, “sure.”
Sure? Sure?? Your eye was certainly twitching now. Gavi’s grip on your waist tightened as he let out a nervous laugh.
“Come on..” He urges you, not bothering with a ‘goodbye’ and instead leading you back toward your table.
Once he’d finally gotten you to sit back down, he gives you a questioning look that you don’t even bother to answer. Instead, you pick up your fort and stab into your pasta.
Gavi gulps, “hey..” He sighs, “talk to me, out with it.”
“Why do you let them get so.. touchy?” You nearly snap, “you can say no, you know that, right?” You take a fork full of food into your mouth, chewing aggressively as you stare daggers into the plate.
He knew exactly what you were feeling, he felt it every time a guy got near you. But, fans didn’t exactly respect his wishes no matter how many times he politely told them to give him space. Plus, you knew that. You’d witnessed it first hand on multiple occasions.
“You know they don’t listen.” He frowns, “I told her I was on a date, I did try to escape.”
Your annoyance significantly decreased. You knew very well he was telling the truth, you had no reason to be upset at him.
“Did you hear her say ‘sure’? Like who the fuck—“
A small laugh leaves Gavi’s mouth, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Yeah, then I saw murderous rage in your eyes and knew it was time to go.”
“Murderous?” You scoff, but your mouth twitches. “Well. Can you blame me?”
Shaking his head, Gavi reaches across the table, sliding his fingers through yours. “No, no I cannot. You just need to remember that I do not want attention from them. You have nothing to be jealous about.”
He kisses your knuckles reassuringly, making a smile push past your once pursed lips. “You’re so cheesy… but I know, and I love you dearly for that. Plus, I was not jealous. Just.. annoyed.”
“Hmm,” Gavi shrugs, “sure. Whatever you say, babe.”
Your eyes dart side to side, landing on him with a scowl. “Uhm, I wasn’t?”
“Yeahhh, you definitely were.”
“Was not.” Taking another bite, you wave him away. “Can you just eat?” You ask after swallowing.
Gavi smirks, leaning back in his seat. “Can you admit you were jealous?” He quirks an eyebrow, head tilting to the side.
You let out a defiant laugh. “Funny. Eat.” You point with your fork to his plate. “I am so, so not having this conversation with you.”
“Don’t you always complain—“ He stops mid sentence when your eyes snap up to his, “I mean.. ask me to do things I definitely should already be doing and educating me..” Nice save. “But! You always talk about communicating, and why perhaps aren’t you doing that?”
“I—“ Your mouth clamps shut. “Okay. Well. Oh.” He kind of got you there.
“Fine! I was jealous that stranger woman was touching all up on my boyfriend.”
A wide smile appears on his lips. “That’s kind of cute.”
Yeah, no.
“Why don’t we play quiet time. You stop speaking, and I enjoy my food, yeah?” You take a sip of water, offering him a tight smile.
Doing as you request, Gavi smiles all throughout the rest of the meal, silently. It only lasts for a few minutes, you caved quickly. “We should skip dessert and go home.”
Gavi’s eyes snap up to you. “Huh? Why.. you love desert?”
“Well, you have practice tomorrow, and I have a direct view of that girl and I cannot handle her staring any longer or I will combust.” You nudge your head in the direction behind him.
One thing about your boyfriend was his absolute inability to not be obvious. His head whips around, making direct eye contact with the her. Her glare falters, a small smile appearing on her face. Gavi deadpans, causing her smile to drop.
He turns back to you. “Yeah, we can go.”
You had to forcefully purse your lips to hide the smirk threatening at your face. “Wonderful!
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likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future gavi related posts.
DTS , @halfwayhearted @ar4ujos @sakashq @joaoflms @hrts4havertz @spidybaby @gadriezmannsgirl @unx100to !
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jmkjournalblog · 2 days ago
Text
Dark library
Pairings: Wednesday x F!Reader
Summary: When Wednesday needs help retrieving a forbidden book from the library's restricted section, she enlists Y/n for a midnight mission. Things take an unexpected turn.
A/N: English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes:/
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The night was quiet, save for the rustling leaves and the faint chirp of crickets outside Nevermore’s tall, gothic windows. Y/n lounged in the common room, her gaze focused on the faint shadows that danced on the ceiling, when Wednesday’s familiar, quiet footsteps echoed from the hall.
“There you are,” Wednesday said, her voice as steady as ever, but her eyes held a glint of urgency. “I need you for something.”
Y/n’s lips curled into a grin. “You sure you don’t just want me for something?” she teased, standing up and brushing the dust from her jacket. She let her gaze linger on Wednesday a little longer than necessary, just to enjoy the way Wednesday’s expression barely shifted.
“Hardly,” Wednesday replied, unfazed. “I need a book from the restricted section of the library. It contains records on past incidents at Nevermore that could prove useful to my current investigation. You’ll help me retrieve it.”
“Wow, how romantic.” Y/n smirked, leaning closer to her. “Most people would settle for dinner before dragging me into a dark library at night, but I guess this works too.”
Wednesday gave her a sidelong look. “If you’re quite finished with your verbal theatrics…”
Y/n chuckled and threw up her hands. “Alright, alright, lead the way. You know I love a good thrill.” She winked and followed Wednesday out into the corridor.
They moved quietly through the shadowed halls, Wednesday’s gaze sharp and alert, Y/n walking beside her with an easy confidence. She kept glancing at Wednesday, amused by her serious focus.
“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re looking for an excuse to spend time with me,” Y/n whispered, grinning.
Wednesday shot her a glare. “If I were, you’d be the last to know.”
“Ouch.” Y/n held a hand to her chest, feigning injury. “You wound me, Addams. But hey, if it gets me a midnight adventure with you, I’ll take it.”
Wednesday rolled her eyes, but a tiny smirk slipped through. She paused at the corner leading to the library doors, turning to Y/n. “You’ll need to keep quiet once we’re inside,” she instructed, her voice a low whisper. “The restricted section is guarded by a sensor. The last thing we need is for someone to come investigating.”
Y/n’s grin widened. “Don’t worry, I’ll be as quiet as a grave.” She tilted her head, watching Wednesday with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Although if we do get caught, I’d be more than happy to take the fall for you. I’ll tell them I couldn’t resist the thrill of sneaking into a dark library with Nevermore’s finest.”
Wednesday raised an eyebrow, clearly unamused. “You’re insufferable.”
“Admit it, you love it.” Y/n winked and gestured for her to lead the way.
Wednesday pushed the heavy door open just enough for them to slip inside. The library was vast and dimly lit, rows of ancient bookshelves stretching up into shadows. The restricted section was tucked away at the back, behind a wrought-iron gate marked “Authorized Personnel Only.” Wednesday stepped confidently through the aisles, with Y/n right beside her, her eyes darting around as if savoring the thrill of breaking the rules.
“Tell me, Wednesday,” Y/n murmured, her voice soft yet playful in the quiet. “Why risk getting caught? What’s so special about this book?”
“It contains details of past incidents that were erased from the school records,” Wednesday replied, her tone as steady as ever. “Disturbances that the administration deemed too dangerous for the general student body to know about.”
Y/n raised an eyebrow, leaning in. “Dangerous, huh? You know how to pick a page-turner. I’m intrigued.”
“Good,” Wednesday replied without a hint of a smile, moving ahead and scanning the shelves with a precise gaze. She motioned to a shelf near the top, where a dusty, ancient-looking book was wedged between two thick tomes. “That’s the one.”
Y/n gave a mock sigh, looking up at the book. “Conveniently placed just out of reach. I don’t suppose you’d let me lift you up there, would you?”
Wednesday’s lips pressed together, giving Y/n a deadpan look. “I’ll pass. I trust you’re capable of retrieving it yourself.”
With a grin, Y/n reached up, stretching to grasp the spine of the book, which was heavier than it looked. She handed it down to Wednesday, who began inspecting the cover with fascination.
“Can’t wait to see what secrets you find in there,” Y/n whispered, leaning close enough for her shoulder to brush against Wednesday’s.
Wednesday glanced sideways at her. “Stay focused. We’re not out of here yet.”
But as if on cue, the sound of footsteps approached. A flashlight beam cut through the darkness, and the library door creaked open. Wednesday’s eyes widened slightly, recognizing the telltale click of Thornhill’s heels echoing through the library.
“Perfect timing,” Y/n muttered, her voice tense but tinged with amusement. “I guess we didn’t make it out in time.”
Wednesday looked around quickly, her gaze steely. “We can’t let her see us with this book. Hide it, quickly.”
Y/n’s mind raced, and then, in a flash of reckless inspiration, she slid the book beneath her jacket and turned to Wednesday with a glint in her eye.
“Trust me,” she whispered. And before Wednesday could protest, Y/n stepped in close, wrapping her arms around her and pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss.
For a second, Wednesday went completely still, her dark eyes wide in shock. But then, against all reason, she let herself fall into it, her lips pressing back with an intensity that surprised them both. Y/n’s fingers traced along Wednesday’s jaw, tilting her head gently as they moved even closer. It was magnetic, a stolen moment hidden in the shadows—and as the flashlight swept over them, Thornhill stopped, her silhouette freezing in the doorway.
The teacher cleared her throat, and Y/n reluctantly broke the kiss, glancing over with a look of feigned guilt. “Oh, Miss Thornhill,” she said, trying not to laugh. “I—I didn’t think anyone would be here at this hour…”
Thornhill sighed, her face unreadable in the dim light. “The library is closed. You know the rules. Both of you, out. Now.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Y/n said, reaching for Wednesday’s hand and pulling her quickly toward the door. As soon as they were out of Thornhill’s sight, she burst into quiet laughter, the thrill of the moment still making her pulse race.
“Well, that was one way to keep us from getting caught,” Wednesday muttered, eyeing her with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.
Y/n smirked, her voice low and teasing. “Admit it, you didn’t hate it.”
Y/n still had that mischievous glint in her eye as they hurried down the hall, her fingers entwined with Wednesday’s for a moment longer than necessary before she let go. The book was still safely tucked under her jacket, but all she could think about was the kiss. She couldn’t help but glance over at Wednesday, her smirk deepening when she noticed a slight flush on Wednesday’s usually unflappable face.
“Looks like I’ve found a new way to keep you quiet,” Y/n murmured, teasing.
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “Enjoy your moment of amusement while it lasts. Next time, there are far less…invasive ways to avoid getting caught.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Y/n whispered, her voice soft and dangerous. But before Wednesday could respond, they turned the corner into the common room, where Enid and Yoko sat on the couch, deep in conversation. Both girls looked up as they entered, their expressions quickly turning to curiosity as they took in Y/n’s and Wednesday’s flushed faces.
“Um…what exactly were you two doing?” Enid asked, eyebrows raised as she took in the sight of the two slightly disheveled girls.
Yoko smirked, her red-tinted glasses slipping down her nose as she eyed them. “Yeah, you two look…intense.”
Y/n, still slightly out of breath, let out a laugh, shrugging her jacket to adjust the hidden book and stretching her arms over her head with an easy, casual confidence. “Oh, you know, just breaking into the library, dodging Thornhill, making out in the shadows…” She shot Wednesday a teasing glance, savoring the way Wednesday’s expression stayed carefully neutral.
Enid’s jaw dropped, her eyes going wide as she looked between the two of them. “Wait—what? You’re kidding, right? Y/n, please tell me you’re joking.”
Yoko chuckled, clearly amused. “Oh, I’d believe it. They’ve got that ‘just made out and got away with it’ look.”
Wednesday, finally breaking her silence, fixed them both with her signature deadpan stare. “Believe what you want. Y/n has a…vivid imagination.”
“Oh, come on, Wednesday, don’t be modest,” Y/n interrupted, grinning. She leaned casually against the wall, looking perfectly unbothered by their friends’ disbelief. “I think Enid just doesn’t want to believe her best friend is such a good kisser.”
Enid blushed, clearly flustered, and Yoko snickered. “I’m calling it—Y/n’s telling the truth.”
Y/n shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes catching Wednesday’s in a playful, lingering stare. “Guess it’ll just stay between the two of us, then.” And with a satisfied grin, she strolled to her room, leaving Wednesday, Enid, and Yoko to process what exactly had happened.
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eelnoise · 1 day ago
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only this moment
zoro x gn!reader cw: fluff, first kisses, you and zoro are a little drunk an: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BEAUTIFUL BELOVED AMAZING SWEET BOY. sorry it's a day late :( high key the prequel to this fic and it's sequel (both nsfw!) but more a fun fact than a requirement btw. wc: 4.2k
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It's Zoro's birthday, and while he's never been one to make a fuss about it, this year the ship is conveniently docked for the night, giving the crew the perfect opportunity to celebrate. He doesn’t exactly mind—and it’s not like he can avoid it—he’s not used to the attention such a day brings. Leaning against the railing and staring off into the sunset, he remains quiet, distant in the way he always is. 
But there’s a softness in the way his gaze lingers on the crew, their laughter and warmth filling the air beneath the fading light of the setting sun. The comfort it brings doesn’t feel strange anymore. It’s simply a part of his world now, like the rising and setting sun—familiar, irreplaceable, and quietly essential.
He’s snapped out of his thoughts by the unmistakable sound of your footsteps approaching, your voice cutting through the noise of the crew. “You alright? Are they too much for ya?”
Zoro glances over his shoulder, his usual deadpan expression in place, but there's a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes as they land on you. "Nah, they’re not botherin’ me," he grumbles and shakes his head, his act deliberately nonchalant. “I’m alright.”
He’s good at hiding it, at playing off the unfamiliar tug in his chest every time you speak to him like that. But the truth is, he’s not used to the way your presence settles something in him, not used to how easy it feels just to be near you.
You smile, and it’s effortless, like you’ve known him for years, and maybe you have, but there’s something different about it tonight. Something that makes him feel strangely exposed, even though you’re only a few feet away. He’s used to being left alone, used to carrying the weight of his thoughts without anyone noticing, but with you, it’s like he can’t hide behind his usual walls.
Coming to a stop just next to him, Zoro turns around to properly face you and notices that you’re holding something behind your back. His brows furrow slightly, his eyes narrowing in a way that makes you think he’s already figured it out, even when he hasn’t.
“What’re you hiding?” he asks, his words slow and steady, but there’s a hint of curiosity beneath the surface—he’s trying too hard to play it off, and he still can’t quite mask it.
“I know you don't care much for gifts or whatever but—” His attention sharpens, but he doesn’t press. Instead, he just crosses his arms, a half-smirk tugging at his lips, like he’s willing to let you have your fun for now. But even then, his eyes don’t leave you, waiting, just a little too interested.
With a sly grin, you reach behind your back and pull out two bottles of sake, one in each hand. “I remembered how much you liked that sake from the island we visited last month,” you say, holding up the bottles for a closer look. “Thought it’d make a good birthday gift. Y’know, some good memories.”
You glance at him, offering a small, almost shy smile. There’s no big gesture, no over-the-top presentation—just something simple that you thought he'd appreciate.
Zoro is speechless, his arms still crossed over his chest, trying to keep his composure and not let on to how much the gesture seems to throw him off. He’s not used to being on the receiving end of things, and gifts are especially new territory. For a long moment, he just stares, his eyes flitting from the bottles in your hands to your face, like he’s waiting for the punchline. But it never comes.
He wasn’t expecting anything. He didn’t want anything. Still, as you stand there before him, looking so genuine and kind and truthful, something within him swells. A warm feeling blossoming in his chest.
Zoro swallows, his words a little rough, more vulnerable than he wants them to be. “Didn’t have to do that,” he mutters, but there’s a quiet fondness in his expression that contradicts his words. He holds out his hand, silently asking for the bottles, waiting patiently for you to hand one to him.
You offer a bottle, and he takes it from your hands, his fingers brushing yours for just a second. He hesitates, clearly unsure of how to respond, before muttering, “Thanks...” in that awkward way he does when he’s caught off guard. But then, as if a thought suddenly strikes him, he looks up, a hint of something softer in his eyes.
“Hey... you wanna share a bottle?” he asks, his tone casual, but there's an underlying sincerity there. He quickly clears his throat, as if the offer itself was a bit more vulnerable than he meant it to be. "I mean, you went out of your way to get it for me. Least I can do is share."
The way he says it—slightly gruff but definitely not uninterested—makes it clear that he doesn't want you to walk off just yet. It's not just about the sake. He wants you to stick around.
You grin, “Of course I do, in fact…” trailing off, you quickly produce two shot glasses from your back pocket—stashed just for this very instance in mind. The small glass makes a soft clink against the wood as you slide one over the railing to Zoro with a knowing look. “I figured you'd be in the mood for a drink," you add, gesturing for him to have the first pour.
He catches the glass between his fingers and uncorks the bottle to pours the clear liquid gently into the small glass. Raising it to his lips, he swirls it slightly before taking a sip. The alcohol burns pleasantly down his throat, warming him from the inside out. He lets out a satisfied sigh, his shoulders relaxing a bit.
"Not bad," he comments, raising his glass in a silent toast before taking another drink. His eyes linger on you, studying your face in the fading light. "You know me well," he adds, his expression  thoughtful, as though he's still processing the simple truth in the words. 
Zoro tilts his head slightly, studying you in a way that's both casual and strangely intense before handing the bottle over to you. He watches you closely as you fill your glass up, his focus once again lingering on your face, as if trying to read you.
You take the bottle with a small, knowing grin, your fingers brushing his as you accept it. Your glass is already in hand, and you pour a generous amount, the clear liquid catching the last of the fading sunlight. As you bring the glass to your lips, you meet his gaze, holding it just long enough to make him wonder whether you’re savoring the moment or just being playful. The warmth of the alcohol spreads quickly, but it's not enough to dull the sharpness of the connection between you both. 
The night stretches on and the deck clears out, leaving  Zoro and you settled into a comfortable rhythm, now relaxed with your backs against the hull, the warmth from the alcohol fighting the chill of the crisp sea wind. The conversation has shifted from casual banter to deeper, quieter exchanges, though neither of you is particularly worried about keeping things serious for long.
But now, his eyes are fixed on you in that way he always has when he's trying to figure something out—or just when he's being his usual teasing self. You’ve had a few too many, and while you’re not exactly stumbling, your laughter has taken on a loose, carefree quality—and for a moment he’s so taken with you he doesn’t catch the smile in his cheeks.
Zoro’s expression doesn’t escape your notice, making your brow furrow. “What’s with the look?” you ask, flashing a playful grin.
He smirks, taking another swig from his glass before leaning against the railing. “You’re such a lightweight, ya know that?”
“Anyone’s a lightweight compared to you, dude.” You reply, rolling your eyes slowly, but with a touch of amusement, you let out a little laugh. It’s hard to stay annoyed with that smug grin of his.
There's a dare in his poise, playful and teasing, but with an edge of something else—a spark of excitement, a hint of mischief. With his back pressed against the cool, rough wood of the wall, he shifts just enough so his gaze locks with yours.
Zoro chuckles, low and deep, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Maybe so, but I bet I could still outdrink you any day."
There's a challenge in his tone, playful and teasing, but with a hint of something else—an edge of excitement, a spark of mischief. With his back pressed against the cool, rough wood of the ship, he shifts just enough so his look meets yours.
"What do you say? Think you can handle a little competition?" he asks, a hint of teasing in his words.
You nod eagerly, your eyes lighting up with the same mischievous energy. A slow grin spreads across your face, the alcohol lending you the courage to match his boldness. "Oh, I'm game," you reply, shifting slightly closer, your thigh brushing against his as you adjust your position. "What are you thinking?"
Zoro's eyes glint with mischief, his lips curling into a sly smirk. "Simple," he says, his voice low. "We take turns guessing something about each other. If you're wrong, you take a shot."
He tilts his head, his gaze never leaving yours. The mischief in his eyes still lingers, but there's a lighter edge to it now, a playful gleam that makes the moment feel less intense and more... electric in its own way. The air between you shifts, not a spark, but something that quickens the beat of your heart.
The thought of being so close, trading secrets and truths, sends a little thrill through you. Even in the dim light, you can see every detail of his face, his expression open, his eyes sharp with interest. It's intimate in a way both familiar and new, and your heart hammers in your chest. 
“You're on," you reply, the words coming out a little more breathless than you intended. "But don't think I'm gonna go down easily."
Zoro’s smirk deepens, his stare never wavering from yours, the tease in his eyes sharp and unwavering. He leans in slightly, a flicker of amusement dancing in his look. “Let me guess," he says smooth and confidently. "Your biggest fear... it’s not something simple, right? Nah, I bet it’s something that really gets under your skin." He pauses, studying you with a critical eye, before letting out a slow breath. "I’m gonna say... it’s being helpless. Not being able to protect the people you care about."
His words hang in the air, his eyes still locked onto yours, as if he's daring you to confirm or deny it. The intensity of his gaze is almost too much, but you can’t help but feel a strange warmth at the fact that he’s thought so deeply about it.
A shiver runs down your spine at how close he is, the way his voice wraps around the words, and the sheer truth of it all. You swallow, trying to keep your expression neutral as you meet his eyes.
“Damn," you murmur, a hint of surprise in your voice. "That's more accurate than I care to admit. How the hell did you guess that?"
Zoro laughs, "Maybe I just know you that well, eh?" He playfully nudges you, the alcohol, and you, are calming him more than he'd like to admit. He's very comfortable in this moment, and it's something he can't deny to himself, so why not indulge in the rare privacy? "Drink up." He adds with a nod.
A soft laugh escapes your lips, the sound a little shaky. "Seems like it," you mutter, the reality of how well he knows you sending a strange wave of heat through your chest.
Following his instruction, you swallow down a hefty gulp of liquid courage, the burn of the alcohol sliding down your throat. You exhale, the feeling only adding to the flutter in your stomach.
"All right, my turn," you say, trying to steady your voice despite the flutter in your chest. "I've got a pretty good guess for you, too."
Zoro leans back slightly, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. "Alright, let's hear it," he replies, low and curiously, the challenge in his tone still present but tempered by an edge of amusement.
"I think..." you begin taking in his relaxed, more casual expression. It makes you smile, and you don't think about trying to hide it, either, "You're a big softie, and I think that you know it."
The  smile falls, and he looks almost surprised, like he wasn't expecting you to be so perceptive. But then, his eyes narrow, and his smirk returns, only with a flicker of something softer. "Oh, so we're gonna play like that, huh?" He chides, his playful act never faltering.
Mhm," you confirm with a nod and a sly grin. "Now answer the question, softie."
Zoro clicks his tongue in annoyance as he realizes you’ve caught him in a rare moment of vulnerability. He runs a hand through his hair, his chuckle low and almost reluctant.
“Dammit,” he mutters, shifting against the railing with a sigh. He falls silent, studying you in the dim light like he's weighing whether to keep up the act. His gaze softens just slightly as he exhales. “Alright, fine, you got me,” he admits, the words gruff but unavoidably sincere. “Guess I do have my moments.”
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with that," you note, tilting your head slightly and softening your tone, a playful glint in your eyes. You scoot a little closer, your inflection gentler now, as if you're letting him in on something only the two of you share. "Makes you human, you know? And honestly, it’s kinda... nice, seeing you let your guard down for once."
Zoro's lips twitch in response, a strange vulnerability in the way he responds to your words.
"Yeah, I guess it does," he replies, scratching the back of his head. He looks away as if embarrassed by the admission. "Still, I'm not about to go around announcing it to the world—I have an image to maintain, ya know."
You catch the flicker of that vulnerability, and the teasing smile on your lips softens just a bit. “Your secret is safe with me,” you assure him with a wink. “You can keep being the big, tough guy on deck, but I won’t spill.” You give him a playful nudge, your tone light but warm. “Now drink up, softie—let's see how long you can hold onto that image.”
Zoro lets out a rough laugh, the sound just a touch shaky, as if he's more affected by the moment than he'd like to let on. He takes the glass and tips it back, taking a long swallow. "All right, then. My turn to guess, huh?
A soft hum of amusement escapes your lips as you watch him drain the glass. "Mhm," you confirm with a nod, a small, satisfied smile on your face. "Let's see what you've got."
Zoro sets the glass down with a soft clink, his eyes locked on your face. A smirk twists at his lips, and he leans forward, resting his chin on his hand, his expression sharp and playful.
"I think..." he begins, his voice dropping slightly, "you're a lot more observant than you let on. You catch things that I wouldn't dream of, and sometimes, you just know what I'm thinking before I do. But, you're also pretty damn stubborn."
Your eyebrows arch at his observation, both impressed and slightly taken aback. It's eerily astute, and you know you can't deny it. With a sigh, you lean your head back and tilt your head toward with a wry smile.
"Oh? What kind of things do you notice that I catch?," you murmur, unable to hide the hint of surprise in your reaction. "And someone has to be stubborn to put up with you." You add with a tease.
Zoro chuckles, the sound low and throaty. He leans in close, a teasing smile on his lips. "Oh yeah? And who said I need putting up with?"
He tilts his head, studying your grin for a moment  before continuing. "You're smart," he remarks thoughtfully. "You pick up on things the rest of the crew doesn't, like when I'm irritated or when I'm lying. It's a pain in the ass."
The truth falling from his lips hits you hard, he feels genuine. Totally real and just honest with you right now. It dawns on you that Zoro lets you see him this way, and to deny the butterflies in your stomach would be a lie to the world.
"Leaves an impression though, yeah?" You force out, though the words are slightly sheepish. "I mean, we're here talking now, so you must like me enough to keep around."
Zoro's laugh is softer this time, a hint of something warm and almost fond in his expression.
"Yeah, I guess I do," he admits, shaking his head slightly. The night's quiet around you, except for the soft sound of the waves lapping against the hull. "You're stubborn and annoying as hell, but... yeah, I like you."
"I'm glad," you reply, letting the playful tease linger. You shift a little closer, your voice softening, but the warmth is still there. "It's nice 'putting up with you,' even if you make it way harder than it needs to be." You let out a small laugh, meeting his gaze with a fond smile. "But I guess someone has to deal with you, right?"
Zoro rolls his eyes playfully, as the gesture makes you giggle. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, don't get too cocky about it," he replies, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
But then there’s a stillness between you two. A quiet that feels different from the rest of the night. His attention lingers on you, the air thickening in a way that makes everything feel closer—heavier, more intimate.
You’re not sure when it happened, but suddenly, you’re sitting so close that you can feel the warmth of his body against yours. His breath brushes against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as he tilts his head down, his eyes locking intently onto yours. He can’t help but notice how your presence seems to fill the space between, how the world around you fades to just the soft rhythm of your breathing, the quiet pulse of the moment.
Time seems to slow as your proximity to him registers fully. Zoro's heart skips a beat as he realizes how close you've gotten, the feel of your warm breath against his skin causing a shiver to race down his spine. Instinctively, he wants to pull back, to distance himself from this vulnerability, but something holds him in place.
Despite every instinct screaming at him to pull away, he finds himself stuck in place. Your proximity is intoxicating, making his heart race in his chest. And then, without a thought—pure impulse—he leans in.
His lips meet yours, firm and sure in a kiss that's both unexpected and exhilarating. The rest of the ship falls away, and now, it's just him and you, the alcohol loosening his inhibitions and fueling the fire that's been quietly building between you.
Zoro's hand moves almost on its own, reaching out to tangle in the soft strands of your hair, pulling you closer against him. The heat of the moment, fueled by the alcohol and the low thrum of tension that's always hung between you, is overwhelming. It feels both familiar and completely new, and his mind struggles to keep up with the onslaught of feeling.
It's slightly awkward, he isn't sure exactly what he's doing but gets the jest of it, the initial clumsiness rapidly melts away as he gets lost in the kiss. It's clear he's never been in this exact situation before, yet his instincts guide him as he lets himself be swept away by the moment.
His other hand moves to your waist, pulling you flush against him, the feel of your body against his suddenly more electrifying than anything he's ever felt.
As he pulls you against him, his arm wrapping around your waist, a low rumble of appreciation escapes his throat. The feeling of your body against his is electric in a way he's never experienced, the heat between you growing hotter with each passing moment. It's different from a fight, but the adrenaline feels just as battle would. 
He pulls away from you and there’s a beat of silence. The world seems to pause around you both, and for a moment, neither of you knows what to say. Zoro’s hand is still tangled in your hair, his fingers brushing lightly against your scalp as if he’s holding onto something grounding. His breath comes out in a shaky exhale, his eyes never leave yours and they’re flickering with something unreadable.
"I... I, uh..." he mutters, his words stumbling in a way that's completely out of character for him. The usually confident, aloof first mate is blushing like a damn tomato, and it makes something warm stir in your chest.
You can't help but smile, the cool night air doing little to quell the warmth spreading through you from that kiss. It's an unexpected, but not unwelcome, shift in the air between you. "It was nice," you say, your voice soft but steady, letting him know you're not about to make this more awkward than it already feels, "But I understand, we’re both probably a little... off balance right now."
Zoro glances at you, a flicker of relief in his eyes before he looks away again, clearly trying to regain some of his usual composure. "You... should probably get some sleep," he mutters, his gaze darting to the deck, clearly embarrassed by his own reaction.
You chuckle softly, though there's no judgment in it—just a quiet understanding. "Yeah... yeah, you're right. But no worries, I’m not going to hold it against you," you tease, the teasing lightness still there, but without any pressure. You're still floating somewhere between cloud nine and feeling completely grounded in the moment.
Zoro exhales, a little too sharply, before he slowly releases his grip on you, his hand drifting back to his side. There's a beat of silence as he clears his throat, looking sheepish for the first time tonight. It’s kind of cute, honestly.
"Here, let me..." he starts again, his words are rough but calmer than usual. "I’ll help get you to bed."
He reaches out for your hand, his fingers firm but careful as he takes it in his own. The gesture feels different now—gentler, more deliberate—and it makes your heart skip a beat. It’s endearing, how much he’s trying to be careful with you, and for once, it’s nice to see him not so sure of himself. You feel a little giddy, but you don’t pull away.
He guides you slowly across the deck, the atmosphere still charged with unspoken tension. As you walk, you can feel his gaze flick to you every so often, as if he's checking to make sure you're alright.
The sound of footsteps on the deck is the only break in the silence. Finally, you reach the door to your quarters, and Zoro stops, turning to face you.
He stands there, still holding your hand, clearly at a loss for what to do next. The low light catches his features in a way that makes him seem more vulnerable than usual, and for a brief moment, he seems unsure of himself—something you don’t see often. His mouth opens and closes as if he’s trying to find the right words but keeps getting stuck.
“You… you, uh, you get some sleep, okay?” His voice sounds softer than it’s ever been, a little awkward, sure,  but there’s a gentleness to it that you weren’t expecting. It's like he wants to make sure you're okay after everything.
You smile, your heart fluttering at how cute he's being. "You too, Zoro," you reply, squeezing his hand lovingly and flashing him a warm, sweet smile. “And happy birthday.”
Zoro’s face flushes a deeper shade of red, and his ears go a bit pink too. It's so obvious now how much the night has affected him. He quickly looks away, mumbling something too quiet for you to catch.
“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, his demeanor a little gruff but still somehow tender. He glances at you again, then looks away quickly, embarrassed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?.”
You give him one last smile before you turn to leave and Zoro watches you disappear into the room beyond, his heart beating a little faster than usual, and the warmth from your smile lingers with him long after you’ve disappeared into the night. He stands there for a while, staring at the spot where you were standing, and when he finally heads to his quarters, the usual brash first mate is nowhere to be found.
When he settles in his own bunk, Zoro's mind keeps replaying the moments with you. He can't help but smile—just a little, but it's there, soft and real. He lies in the dark, still feeling the warmth of your hand in his, and it brings an unfamiliar but comforting warmth to his chest. It’s not something he’s used to, but... it feels nice.
Zoro drifts off to sleep with a small, genuine smile still on his face, the first real one he’s had in a long time.
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@tetzoro here is ur tag hehe
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candycandy00 · 2 days ago
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Once Upon a Time - A Choso x Reader Fanfic Part 1
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Retold fairytales featuring the JJK men! This is Rapunzel featuring Choso! While gathering herbs in the forest, you stumble into the garden of a strange man living in an abandoned watch tower. He talks often about his three little brothers, but you’re beginning to suspect they’re no longer there. 
Read Sukuna x Sleeping Beauty Here!
Read Gojo x Cinderella Here!
Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Reader as Rapunzel. Reader has long hair (she kinda has to for this story) but no other distinguishing physical characteristics. Choso as a classic Yandere. Possessive behavior. Toxic love. Manipulation. Reader is locked up. Mentions of characters dying before the story began. Bondage (not used in a sexual context… yet).
Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear!
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You bend down to pick some of the herbs you just found, carefully placing them in your basket. These will be perfect for several different medicines you make for the other villagers. You can’t believe what a treasure trove you’ve found. How have you never seen  this place before? 
The basket is feeling heavy on your arm by the time you finish, but you’re so happy with what you’ve gathered that you don’t mind the extra weight. You pick one last handful and turn to head back through the woods and to the village. 
That’s when you see him. A pale man dressed in black, dark hair pulled into strange ponytails on each side of his head. He’s standing directly in your path. 
“Why are you in my garden?” he asks. His tone is curious, not accusatory.
You freeze in place. This is a garden? And it belongs to him? You dip your head in a slight bow. “I’m very sorry, sir. I didn’t realize this was your garden. I picked a lot of your herbs,” you say, holding out your basket. “Would you like to keep them?”
He stares into your basket, then at your face. “What do you want herbs for?”
“I make medicines,” you tell him. “Tonics, ointments, all sorts of things.”
He’s silent for a moment, then asks, “Could you make some for me?”
“Of course,” you say, happy that he’s apparently going to let your accidental theft slide. “What kinds do you need?”
“Something for scrapes and cuts. I have three little brothers and they’re always getting hurt while playing in the woods.”
You smile. “Alright. I’ll make some and bring them back to you, as a thank you for the herbs.” You glance around the forest. “Where is your house?”
He hesitates for a few seconds, as if reluctant to reveal where he lives. You’re just about to offer to meet him here in a few days when he turns and begins walking through the woods. “Follow me. I’ll show you.”
You tag along behind him, waiting for a house to come into view. You really didn’t know anyone lived out here. But instead of a house, he leads you to a clearing with an enormous tower standing in the middle of it. 
“You live here?” you ask, using your hand to block the sun as you squint upwards, trying to see how high it goes. 
It’s made of stone, gray in color except for a deep red door and matching red shudders all the way up at the top. A window? But why so high? The grass around the tower is thick and unkempt, wild rose bushes climbing the sides, going at least thirty feet up. Red and white roses are blooming beautifully, making the tower look like something from a dream. 
When you step closer, you notice there are black roses blooming here and there. What an unusual color! 
The man opens the red door, made of heavy wood, and motions for you to come inside. 
You follow in behind him, finding a living area with chairs, a fireplace, a rug, and a desk.  Off to the side is a cozy little kitchen with a stove and a small table with four chairs crowded around it. 
“Do you live here by yourself?” you ask, looking around. 
He looks at you with a slightly confused expression. “No, I have three little brothers, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right! I’m sorry, I forgot.”
But the tower doesn’t look like three kids live in it. Things are too neat and orderly, and there’s only one place setting on the table. Maybe they’re just very well behaved. 
He notices you glancing around and says, “They’re out gathering wood for the fire right now. They’ll be home soon.”
You nod, then look straight up. “What’s up there?”
He follows your line of sight, tilting his head up. “A couple of bedrooms shared between us,” he answers. “This used to be a watch tower during the war. My brothers and I found it abandoned a few years ago and moved in.”
“That was fortunate,” you say. “I bet they love playing in this tower.”
He smiles, the expression lighting up the room. He has a really nice smile. “Yes, they love it here.”
You smile back, then start toward the door. “I’ll make some medicines for you and come back in three days. Is that alright?”
“Yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you.”
As you step outside, you turn back to wave goodbye to him. He waves back, and you leave. Walking back through the woods, you half expect to run into his little brothers, laughing and playing. But you never see another soul until you reach the village. 
In the comfort of your own home, you remove your bonnet and let the long ponytail slip down your back and hit the floor. Even with the ends looped around and tied at the top, your hair brushes the wooden floorboards as you move around the room, assembling your tools. Pans, bowls, a kettle of water set to boil, stone cups and mortars. 
As you begin your work, you realize you never asked the man for his name. 
Three days later, when you return to the tower, the man meets you at the door with a smile. He really does look so kind when he smiles. You wish he would do it more often. 
“I brought the medicines, uh… sir,” you say, holding up a leather bag. 
“Choso,” he says. “My name is Choso. And you?”
Feeling just a bit shy, you avert your eyes as you tell him your name. You’re not sure why you didn’t realize it last time, but he’s very handsome. Even the faint dark circles under his eyes can’t diminish his lovely face. 
“Come in, please,” he tells you, opening the door wider and stepping to the side to give you room. 
Once inside, you go to the kitchen and begin pulling the glass bottles of medicine from your bag and sitting them on the table. Choso walks over and listens intently as you explain their uses. 
“This one is great for scrapes and minor burns or cuts. Wash the wounded area first with warm water, then apply the salve. Bandage if necessary. This one here helps with a cough. Give them one spoonful before bed. Oh, and this one relieves itching from bug bites or rashes they might get from plants while playing.”
You pick one bottle with a purple colored liquid inside. “This will help them sleep, but it’s strong. Only a few drops into some water or milk, okay? Otherwise they’ll be knocked out all day.”
Choso looks at you warmly as you finish explaining them. Then thanks you again. “These will be a big help. My little brothers can be unruly at times.”
You look around the room. “Are they out today?”
Choso nods. “They went to fish in the stream nearby. They should be home later.”
“That’s a pity. I’d like to meet them someday,” you say. 
As you start to head for the door again, Choso places a hand lightly on your shoulder. “Wait. Would you like to join me for dinner? My brothers will be late, so I’ll just give them leftovers.”
Your eyes shift to the stove, where iron pots and pans are sizzling and steaming. You realize then that you can smell food cooking, and it smells delicious. There’s definitely some sort of bread baking, and you’re fairly certain an onion has been sautéed. They’re warm, comforting scents. They remind you of when your parents were alive. 
“Are you sure you’ll have enough?” you ask. 
“There’s plenty,” he replies, gently ushering you to the little round table and pulling out one of the chairs. “My brothers don’t eat much. You know how kids can be picky eaters.”
You sit down in the offered chair. “Alright then. Thank you.”
“Oh, thank you,” Choso says, filling a plate for you. “I haven’t had company for dinner in a long time.” He pauses, seems to think of something, then adds, “I mean I haven’t had a guest for dinner in a long time.”
You look at the plate filled with piping hot food that he sits in front of you. “This all looks incredible!” 
Choso fixes a plate for himself and sits down next to you at the table. “I hope you enjoy it,” he says before beginning to eat. 
Everything you try is divine, from the freshly baked bread to the fried potatoes with onions to the seared pork loin. You wonder how his brothers could possibly be too picky to enjoy this, but you suppose there’s no accounting for kids’ taste. 
After finishing your meal, you stay for a little while to chat with Choso. He’s not overly talkative, but he’s friendly enough, and seems to genuinely enjoy your company. He asks you questions about your medicine making, the village you live in, and eventually reaches the topic of family. 
“My parents died when I was sixteen,” you tell him, “and I have no siblings. My only relatives live so far away that I never see them, so it’s just me.”
His expression softens. “Don’t you get lonely?”
You place your elbow on the table and lean your face onto your hand. With your other hand, your fingers trace over a name childishly carved into the wood. “Yuji”. It must be the name of one of his brothers. You can imagine a little boy doing that, and Choso gently chastising him for it. 
“Sometimes I do,” you answer. “Sometimes I miss having someone to tell my problems to, or something fun or interesting will happen and I’ll want to go home and tell my parents, but there’s no one there. Most of the time I’m fine, but sometimes at night the house is so quiet, all I can hear is my own breathing, and it feels…” You stop and look at Choso. His eyes have a strange intensity to them as he stares at you. 
“I’m sorry,” you say, feeling embarrassed, “I shouldn’t have rambled on like that. You have your brothers, so it must be hard for you to imagine what I’m talking about.”
All at once his expression returns to its normal warm and kind one. “Ah, you’re right. I’m sorry for asking something so personal.”
“It’s fine,” you tell him. “I’m an open book. Ask whatever you want.”
“Really? In that case, why do you keep your hair so long?” he asks. 
You took your bonnet off to eat dinner, and it would be strange if he hadn’t noticed how long your ponytail is. You reflexively reach up to touch where it’s looped and tied at the back of your head. When loose, your hair drags far behind you. 
“My parents come from a very isolated clan, where a person’s hair is considered their spirit. Hair is sacred to us, so I’ve never cut it since I was born.”
His eyes seem to follow your hair from your head down to the floor. “It’s very beautiful,” he says. “I’d love to see it let down.”
You blush at that remark. He couldn’t know it, but in your parents’ clan, only your spouse is allowed to see you with your hair completely loose. Though your parents left the clan, they raised you to respect many of their customs. 
“Maybe someday,” you say with a faint smile. “Letting my hair down is a very… intimate thing.”
Choso’s pale face turns slightly pink. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay, you didn’t know. The clan was a bit strange.”
You leave later that evening, still seeing no signs of his brothers. 
Over the next few weeks, you visit Choso often. He lets you raid his herb garden in exchange for making medicines for him, and you always stay a couple of hours to have dinner with him and talk. 
Choso is still a little quiet, but he’s an excellent listener, always seeming engaged with whatever you talk about. The only topic that makes him chatty is his brothers. He loves telling you stories about their mischief. He clearly loves all three of them, but he seems to have a soft spot for the youngest, Yuji. 
But the more time you spend with Choso, the more you talk to him, the more you start to suspect something terrible. 
Maybe his brothers are gone. 
You’re not sure if a relative might have taken them in, or if they simply ran away to one of the nearby villages, or… if they’re dead. But you’re starting to believe they don’t live at the tower with Choso anymore. You’ve never seen them even once, despite visiting at different hours on different days. Choso always has plenty of food to share, and you’ve never seen any evidence of them still being there. 
You can’t ask Choso about it. Whatever the truth may be, it’s obvious that Choso doesn’t want to deal with it. He’d rather live the lie that they’re still with him than face the truth, and it’s not your place to try to change that. 
So you go along with it. You don’t act suspicious when he says they’re out playing in the woods. You don’t ask any questions about what they’ve been doing lately. It’s none of your business anyway, though it does make you sad. 
One night you end up staying at the tower a little later than usual, wrapped up in a conversation with Choso. When you head home, it’s dark out, and the woods seem a little creepier. 
You start to walk the familiar path to your village, but you hear a wolf howl in the distance. Another wolf howls, then another. It sounds like there’s a pack on the path you need to be on. Deciding to take the long way around, you step onto a different path, one that would take around the other side of the tower. 
On your way, you spot a small clearing. The full moon shines down through the trees, illuminating three identical objects. Stepping closer, you realize what they are. Small cross shaped grave markers. There are no names on them, but the fact that there are three sends a chill down your spine. Three graves for three little brothers? 
You can’t be sure, so you choose to ignore them for now. You’ve already decided to go along with Choso’s sad lie, so what’s the point of saying anything now? 
Continuing on the path, you hear wolves howling again. Are they on this path as well, or did they catch your scent and follow you? 
The air is unseasonably chilly, feeling like winter despite being early autumn. The trees are still full of leaves, and during the day their foliage creates a rainbow of lovely colors: golden yellows, burnt oranges, lush reds. But tonight, they just look dark brown. 
You wrap your thin cloak a little tighter around yourself and hurry along, hoping the wolves are farther away than they sound. Your footsteps are nearly silent on the soft forest floor. It rained yesterday, so the ground is still slightly damp, and the woods still have that earthy smell that always follows the rain. 
A howl again, stopping you in your tracks. Should you run? Or go back to the tower? You’re not sure which option is safer, especially in the dark. It’s hard to judge exactly where you are on this unfamiliar path. 
You hear a growl, and it’s definitely close. Close enough to make your heart pound wildly and the hair on your neck stand up. 
A twig snaps somewhere behind you, and more than one growl can be heard. It sounds like you’re surrounded! As the first wolf emerges from trees to your right, you let out a terrified scream. 
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Choso is cleaning up after dinner, humming quietly to himself as he washes the plates he and his guest ate from. 
He finds himself smiling often these days, feeling happy and content for the first time since… 
No, he refuses to think about that right now. He has someone to talk to, to eat dinner with most evenings, to share things with. He’s not alone anymore. 
He’s never really had a guest before she wandered into his garden, and every day since he’s thanked the stars above for sending someone so lovely. She’s sweet and honest and talks to him about her life and seems to actually care about what he has to say. 
And she’s beautiful. 
Choso hasn’t been with a woman, or even been interested in one, in years. Before finding the tower, Choso sometimes sold his body to make enough money to feed his brothers. He didn’t hate it, but most of the encounters felt hollow to him. 
Now, for the first time since he was a teenager, he feels actual desire for someone. But he’s not sure how she feels about him. Maybe he can figure it out if he spends more time with her. 
A shrill scream pierces the night, causing Choso to drop the plate he was washing. A tiny piece of it chipped off. 
He pauses, listening carefully. He hears another scream, and this time he’s certain. It’s her. She’s in trouble! 
Terrible memories flash through his mind as he runs for the door and throws it open. Other screams, calling for Choso to help, begging to be saved as he ran toward the sound. This time, he’ll make it! This time, he won’t lose anyone!
He sprints through the forest, following her voice, tearing through the trees and ignoring the branches scratching his face. 
Another sound fills his ears. Growling and snarling, the snapping of teeth. He knows what makes those sounds all too well.  
As he breaks free of the tree line and onto a path, he sees her. She’s lying on the ground, curled up to try to protect herself, as a small pack of wolves circle her. In the small patches of moonlight, Choso can see that her cloak is torn and there are bloody marks all over her. There’s blood soaking into the dirt beneath her, and she’s alternating between screaming and whimpering. 
Choso yells at the wolves as he rushes forward, kicking the closest ones away. They turn on him, baring their teeth, but he glares at them with the sort of animalistic rage they can understand. They whine as they slowly walk away, leaving him to crouch down and pull her into his arms. 
“I’m here! I scared the wolves away!”
She looks up at him with a tear-streaked face, terror in her eyes. “Choso?”
“Yes, it’s me!” he assures her. “I’ll take you back to the tower to bandage your wounds. It’s closer than the village.”
With that, he scoops her up and carries her back to his home, lying her on a rug in front of the fireplace. She’s awake, thankfully, and fully alert. 
“I’m going to take off your cloak. Is that alright?” he asks. 
She nods, raising up to help him remove it. Then he begins looking over her wounds. They’re not deep, though they are bloody and look quite painful. Choso breathes a sigh of relief to know they’re not life threatening. Unless they get infected. 
He looks from the bite marks, mostly on her shoulders, hands, and calves, to her face. “We should really clean these,” he tells her. “But I don’t want to pull up your dress or your sleeves without permission.”
She gives him a weak smile. “It’s okay. Get some of the ointment I made for you. It should help.”
He leaves to get the ointment from the kitchen, as well as some cloth and warm water. When he comes back, her bloody dress is lying in the corner, and she’s sitting up on the floor in a thin but modest slip. It’s sleeveless, falling to knee length, and it perfectly reveals her wounds. 
Choso doesn’t take the time to stare or blush. This isn’t that type of situation. His only concern is bandaging her up and ensuring her safety. 
With her directing him, he cleans the bite marks and applies the ointment, then carefully wraps them in cloth. One arm had to be wrapped from shoulder to fingers, but the other only had a couple of scratches on her shoulder. Both calves had bites that required bandages, and one foot was bruised. 
Choso steps out of the room while she examines herself for any hidden wounds, and is relieved that she found none. When all is finished, they sit together by the fireplace. 
“Thank you for saving me,” she says. “Those wolves would have killed me.”
“I would never let that happen,” he tells her, looking her in the eyes. 
She looks surprised by that comment, but then smiles in that sweet way that has captivated him. “You’re a wonderful person, Choso. You know that, right?”
He feels himself blush a little. “I’m not. I’ve had… many failings. But I’m glad you feel that way.”
They talk a while longer, sticking to light topics that occasionally make her giggle. He thinks she’s marvelous when she laughs, like a bright ray of sun in his dark world. He can’t imagine his life without her in it. He can’t fathom going back to the crushing loneliness. If anything ever happened to her…
His thoughts freeze when she reaches up and begins untying her hair. He watches in stunned silence as she pulls out pins and thin ribbons, finally letting it all come pouring down, fanning out around her. It shimmers in the flickering light of the fireplace, almost seeming to glow. 
It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 
Then he remembers all at once what she said about her hair before. Letting down her hair is intimate to her. It’s not something she does for everyone. Does that mean she feels comfortable with him? That she trusts him? 
He wants to touch her hair, to run his fingers through it, but he doesn’t want to offend her. Instead he stares at it in wonder. 
She looks a little shy as she asks, “Do you want to touch it?”
“May I?”
She nods. 
He reaches up close to her face and touches one shiny lock, moving his hand down to run over the fine tresses. It feels magnificent. But most wondrous of all is the look on her face: heated, flushed… aroused?
“You’re so beautiful,” he tells her, his face close to hers. 
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You don’t know what you’re thinking. Letting your hair down? In front of a man who is not your spouse? Your parents would be turning in their graves. But in the moment, it just felt right. 
There’s no point in denying it to yourself any longer. You’ve fallen for Choso. When the wolves attacked you, all you could think about was how sad you were that you’d never get to see him again. These past few weeks you’ve spent visiting him have been your happiest since your parents were alive. 
And unless you’re reading him completely wrong, you think he feels the same way. So when he leans close to you and tells you you’re beautiful, your natural reaction is to kiss him. 
It’s not a deep kiss, just a soft, slow kiss to his lips. When you part, he’s looking at you as if you’re a goddess that has descended to earth. Then he kisses you back. 
In a whirl, you’re wrapped in each other’s arms on the rug, his hands in your hair, his mouth on yours, his body pushing against you. While kissing you, his hands move down to your shoulders and slide the straps of your slip down your arms. You feel the silky fabric glide down over your breasts, revealing them to Choso before the slip is pulled down your hips and off your legs, finally discarded near your dress. 
He pulls back to look at you with awe, and you feel like some rare treasure, almost too precious to be touched. Choso’s touches are so light and gentle, it feels like he’s afraid he might break you. So when he stares at your panties, clearly wanting to remove them but hesitating, you pull them off yourself. 
Choso removes his own clothing, displaying his surprisingly well toned body. You had no idea he was hiding such a perfectly sculpted torso beneath those loose fitting clothes. 
He eases you onto your back, then softly pushes your legs apart before positioning himself between them, a little too far back for what you’re expecting. Then he scoots back a little more, bends forward, and kisses your exposed pussy. 
The action sends a shiver down your spine, and soon you feel his fingers opening your slickened folds so that his tongue can reach the most sensitive parts of you. Your back arches off the floor as pleasure radiates through your body. His thumb strokes you, his tongue massages your clit, and one of his fingers slips inside you. 
“Ch-Choso!” you cry out between gasping breaths. His eyes flick from his work at hand to your face, but he never stops. Not even when you cum, trembling and panting. And soon enough, with his lips wrapped around that tiny little bundle of nerves, you cum for a second time. It washes over you, making your entire body tingle, your wounds forgotten and lost in a sea of ecstasy. 
He takes the time to lick up any juices, as if he can’t bear for a single drop to go to waste, before pulling back and sitting on his knees. That’s when you notice his erection, already twitching and leaking. 
You raise up and reach toward him, but he gently catches your hand and smiles at you. “It’s alright. You don’t have to do anything. It’s enough for me to know I’m giving you pleasure.”
It doesn’t look like it’s enough. He looks like he might burst. You slip your hand free and reach out again. This time he doesn’t stop you as your fingers brush over his tip. He sighs, his eyes closing, as your hand glides down his shaft. “I want to make you feel good too,” you tell him. “I want us to feel good together.”
His eyes open and he looks at you, a soft blush across his face. “Do you mean…?”
You lie back on the rug, your thighs parted. “Make love to me, Choso. I want to feel you inside me.”
His eyes shine in the fire light, and you think there’s only one word that could describe his expression: love. You look back at him, hoping your expression mirrors his. Because now you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you love this man. 
You’re not entirely sure how this will all work out, if you’ll be able to convince him to move to the village and live with you, or if you’ll end up living in the tower with him. And you don’t even want to think about how to deal with his grief over his brothers right now. But you want to help him. You want to put in the effort required to make this work. 
He moves closer to you, crawling over top of you while bracing himself with his arms, ensuring he doesn’t let his weight rest on your body. Every move he makes seems to revolve around not hurting you, and you’ve never felt so cherished, so protected. 
He leans on one arm while his free hand moves down between your bodies, positioning himself. Then, he pushes in. In true Choso fashion, he’s careful and slow, afraid to cause you discomfort. You wrap your arms around his neck and look up at his face. He seems strained, as if he’s using all his willpower to hold back. 
“You’re not hurting me,” you tell him, pulling him closer. “Please, I want you deeper, harder.”
He hesitates for a moment, staring at your face. Then all at once he plunges in, all the way, making you gasp and tighten your grip on his neck. “Sorry,” he mumbles, but you shake your head, bucking your hips up to take him even deeper. 
When he starts thrusting, you moan out his name, your nails scratching at his back, your body rising to meet him each time. His bare chest brushes against yours, one of his hands at the back of your head, holding you snugly, his fingers laced in your hair. 
“I love you,” he mutters into your ear. “I love you so much!”
You shudder as he hits an incredibly sensitive spot. “I love you too, Choso!”
He thrusts faster, deeper, groaning when you clench him. His body is scraping across you, creating delicious friction against your clit, making you whimper into his shoulder. 
Within minutes, you cum again, squeezing him tightly, almost sobbing. You feel so overwhelmed with pleasure, with love, that it feels like you’re unraveling in his arms. 
A little after, you feel Choso pulsing and twitching within you before strings of hot cum fill you up. You stay latched onto him for a while, reluctant to let go and be out of his arms. 
When you finally part, you both sit in silence, only breathing, until the two of you regain your strength. Then Choso helps you clean up before sitting back down on the rug beside you. 
Feeling a little awkward after all of that, you decide to make light conversation. 
“I think I can make it home tomorrow,” you say. “I have a lot of medicines to make. The villagers can get impatient. Would you like to come visit me sometime? I can show you how I use your herbs.”
He looks at you for a moment, a strange look on his face. “Are you sure you should try tomorrow? You’re still hurt.”
“I think I’ll be alright, thanks to you. None of the wounds hinder me from walking.”
He’s silent for several seconds, then says, “The wolves might come back.”
“I don’t think they’re as active during the day,” you reply. “Maybe you could walk me home.” You add the last part as a way to invite him. You really hope he’ll take a liking to the village. 
He smiles, but there’s something off about it, as if the emotion isn’t genuine. “Sure. I can walk you home.”
Did you do something wrong? He’s being strangely closed off. He seems to be avoiding your eyes as he stands up. “I’ll fix you some tea.”
You nod, suddenly feeling insecure. When he returns with the cup, you’re so distracted that you barely glance at it before taking a long drink. 
Maybe, if your mind hadn’t been elsewhere, you would have noticed the strange smell. But even so, you definitely notice the taste. How could you not? It comes from something you made after all. But why would Choso put the sleep aid medicine in your tea? And if it’s strong enough for you to taste this clearly, he must have used way too much. 
Oh no. This will knock you out for at least a day! 
As your vision gets fuzzy, you drop the cup and try to look at him. “Choso? Why…?”
His face looks pained. “I’m sorry, but it’s too dangerous for you to go home. Let’s wait until you’re healed up, okay? I’ll take good care of…”
You black out before you hear the rest of the sentence. 
When you awake, you’re lying on a straw mattress on the floor of an unfamiliar room. There’s a blanket over you and a soft pillow beneath your head. 
You sluggishly pull the blanket off and sit up, holding a hand to your head. You feel groggy and tired, your muscles sore. Looking down at yourself, you see that your bandages have been changed and your slip, the only clothing you have on, has been washed. 
But most alarming of all is the metal shackle on your ankle. There’s a long chain attached to it, so long that you can’t yet see the other end. Underneath the shackle, strips of cloth are tied around your ankle, probably to keep the metal from bruising your skin. 
You get to your feet and look around. The walls are gray stone. There’s a small dresser and mirror off to the side, a shelf lined with books, and the mattress you just got up from. On the dresser there’s a basket of fresh fruits and nuts that can be found in the forest. And on one rounded wall, a pair of deep red shudders. 
Gathering your strength, you walk over to the shudders and open them. As you suspected from the minute you stood up, you’re in the top of the tower! You look down, the cold wind hitting your face and blowing your hair around wildly. It’s a straight drop, not a single foothold in sight. 
You glance at the only door in the room, noticing the numerous locks attached to it. The terrible truth sinks in to your drowsy brain. 
You’re trapped here. Choso has effectively taken you prisoner, and you have no idea why.  
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daisymbin · 3 days ago
Text
disasters & love languages - kwon soonyoung
warnings: mentions of being burnt out (reader), basically breezing through life instead of living it.
pairings: kwon soonyoung x reader
genre: comfort, fluff
wc: 1.6k
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friday. the end of a long, draining week, and you barely have the energy to keep yourself upright as you step out of work. exhaustion clings to you like a heavy fog, making every movement feel sluggish and burdensome. soonyoung has noticed. he’s been paying close attention for days now—how the brightness in your eyes has dimmed, how you’ve been quieter and more distant, and how you come home every evening looking worn out and defeated. it worries him more than he lets on.
he’s always loved the way your smile lights up a room, how your laughter makes everything seem brighter. but lately, your smiles have been few and far between, and he feels a pang of helplessness each time he catches the tired slump of your shoulders. soonyoung isn’t the best at fixing things, but if there’s one thing he knows how to do, it’s making people you smile; even if it means making a mess or doing something ridiculous.
so he decides he’s going to surprise you. the plan forms impulsively, and he spends the afternoon looking up recipes, convinced that cooking you a homemade meal is the perfect way to lift your spirits. but now, as he stands in the middle of a kitchen disaster zone, he wonders if he might have made things worse. flour dusts every surface, and the smoky smell lingers stubbornly despite his frantic efforts to clear the air. he’s waving a dish towel over a pan that nearly caught fire, his heart sinking.
then he hears the front door open, and his heart skips a beat as panic pumps through his blood. he’s not ready—there’s flour in his hair, and he’s positive he looks like he lost a battle with an entire pantry. still, he forces himself to spin around, dropping the towel and trying to wipe the guilt off his face. you stand there, looking surprised and exhausted, and his chest aches. now he's sure he's definitely made things worse.
“soonyoung?” you call, your voice soft but weary, and he feels a pang of guilt. you already look so tired; the last thing you need is to come home to this mess.
he jumps, flustered and sheepish. “oh my god!” he yelps, eyes wide with surprise. “you’re home? already?” he wasn’t expecting you so soon, and he’d hoped to have everything perfect before you arrived.
“yeah,” you reply, stepping cautiously into the chaos. you take in sight of the flour, the scattered ingredients, the way soonyoung looks like he’s been through a warzone, and your exhaustion temporarily gives way to confusion. “what… happened here?”
soonyoung’s face flushes, and he scratches the back of his neck. “um, okay, so don’t be mad,” he starts, looking absolutely guilty. “i was trying to cook for you. you know, to make you feel better. but…” he glances at the smoking pan, his expression crumpling with disappointment. “i kinda… ruined everything.”
he waits, he waits for the disappointed sigh, the yelling, the scolding, he waits for your cry even. he's holding his breath, but when he hears your laugh—a real, genuine laugh—the weight on his chest lifts a little. he watches your face light up, and for the first time in days, he sees you looking actually happy. it’s worth every bit of the mess he made.
“ruined?” you repeat, a laugh bubbling up in your chest despite your exhaustion. you take in the sight of him, messy and exasperated, and something in you cracks open. “it looks like you tried to summon the kitchen fire spirit.”
soonyoung groans, his shoulders slumping. ��i swear, the youtube chef made it look so easy! how was i supposed to know that oil splatters like that?” he pauses, looking at you sheepishly. “and that flour… uh, explodes if you spill it near an open flame?”
“soonyoung-ah!” you exclaim, half-laughing, half-horrified. “you almost set the place on fire?”
he winces, holding his hands up defensively. “only almost,” he says.
"please dont tell me you set the smoke detector off.." you pleaded, “it only went off once, I swear!" he squeezes his eyes shut, "but I managed to stop it! I handled it!" & he waits again.
but you giggled, and a smile tugs at your lips despite your exhaustion. the sight of him, messy and stressed and so very soonyoung, breaks through some of the numbness that’s been weighing you down all week. “you did all this… for me?” you ask, stepping closer.
he looks down, his cheeks flushing as he nods. “yeah,” he says quietly. “you’ve been so burnt out, and i just… i wanted to make you happy. but now i ruined everything, and the kitchen’s a disaster.”
your heart swells, and you reach out to take his hands in yours. his fingers are warm, a little sticky from whatever he’d been cooking, but you don’t care. “you didn’t ruin anything,” you say softly. “in fact, you being an absolute disaster somehow cheered me up. that fire alarm thing was kinda funny.” you swallow the laughter bubbling in your chest.
he looks up at you, hope flickering in his eyes. “really?”
“really,” you say firmly. “come on, let’s clean up this mess, mhm?”
his smile is small but genuine, a hint of relief washing over his features. “yeah, okay.”
he follows you as you start tackling the mess together, and it’s not easy. flour and oil end up everywhere, but soonyoung keeps you laughing every few minutes. he cracks jokes or tells stories about his cooking misadventures, and at one point, he tries to explain the youtube recipe he followed. & can you believe? he even searched up gordon ramsay! all this, complete with wild hand gestures. you had to stop scrubbing the counter several because you’re laughing too hard, hands clutching your tummy.
“and then the guy on the video said to ‘sauté gently,’” soonyoung says, miming an exaggerated stir. “but i guess i was too rough with it or something? and boom! oil explosion.”
“how do you even sauté ‘gently’?” you ask, giggling.
“i have no idea,” he replies, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “it’s like they expect me to have chef-level skills or something. obviously, i don’t. that’s why i’m watching stupid videos on youtube.”
finally, after what feels like forever, the kitchen is somewhat back to normal. you collapse onto the couch, sighing in exhaustion, and soonyoung drops down next to you, looking equally tired but content.
“i’m sorry for making such a mess,” he says, his voice softer now. “i really did want to make you feel better.”
“you did. i do feel better,” you assure him. “even if it wasn’t the way you planned.”
he’s about to respond when he suddenly brightens, as if remembering something. “wait here,” he says, jumping up and disappearing into the other room. you watch him go, curiosity piqued, until he returns with something hidden behind his back, you hear the ruffles as he walks.
“close your eyes,” he instructs, bouncing on his feet.
you raise an eyebrow. “should i be worried?”
“dont be stubborn & just trust me,” he whines, his eyes wide with excitement.
you close your eyes, and a moment later, he gently places something heavy in your hands. “okay,” he says. “open.”
your mouth falls open at the sight. in your hands is a bouquet—not of flowers, but books. all ten of them, ones you’d mentioned wanting to read in passing, thinking he wasn’t paying attention. they’re carefully chosen, wrapped, and tied together with a ribbon, arranged like a flower bouquet. you’re stunned, your heart swelling with emotion.
“soonyoung-ah…” you whisper, looking up at him with grateful eyes. “you got me all these?”
he nods, his smile sheepish but hopeful. “i know you’ve been feeling down, and you love reading, so i thought… maybe this would help? we can lock ourselves in all weekend and read, if you want. i don’t enjoy reading as much as you, but i’ll do it for you.”
tears lightly prick at your eyes, and you bite your lip to keep them at bay. “you’re so sweet, you know that?”
“no, i didn’t even do much… this is just a fraction of what you deserve,” he says immediately, his expression earnest. “you’ve been working so hard, and you deserve a break. i want to be here for you. even if it’s just to sit and read, or… or to burn the kitchen down just to see you smile.”
you laugh, the sound breaking free and filling the room with warmth. “there’s no way we’ll finish all these books by sunday night,” you tease, looking at the enormous stack.
soonyoung’s face lights up with a grin of love and adoration. “then we’ll just have to stay in next weekend, too.”
“and the weekend after that?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.
“and the one after that,” he agrees, leaning closer until his forehead touches yours. “as many weekends as you need to feel better, i’ll spend all those weekends with you. & all the weekends in my life."
you smile, feeling lighter than you have in days. “thank you.”
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lunarubra · 23 hours ago
Text
I just have to start by saying—how awesome is the name Shadow?? I feel like my own name, Ari, suddenly pales in comparison! xD
Thank you so much for giving my little fanfiction a chance! It makes me incredibly happy to know you're enjoying it. It feels like I started posting it ages ago, though it's actually been less than half a year.
Jiyan is a bit of a mess at the beginning, and I'm glad you noticed that even at her lowest points, she's still seeking comfort in things beyond her work and research. That complexity means a lot to me as a writer.
One of my absolute favorite things is writing scenes where Cillian gets teased. He’s so humble and grounded—it makes those moments so much fun to craft! I’m thrilled you enjoyed that part too!
I’m also genuinely touched that you’re reading my story, even though it’s not focused on your usual favorites blorbo, also because I know RPF is not everyone cup of tea. I don’t have the words to express how much that means to me.
I hope you continue to enjoy the story and the background of my OC. I'm always here if you ever want to chat about it!
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Hi :) this is the first chapter of the Shadow of the Sea, let me know what you think about it in the comments. A big thank you to @cillmequick for beta-reading and being the sweetest person ever. I wouldn't have published it without her assurance that it doesn't completely suck.
Pairing: Cillian x OC (Jiyan)
Summary: In this AU set in 2010, Cillian has just finished filming 'Inception'. He has never been married, and after a few disappointing relationships, he finds himself feeling blocked in his personal life, even as his career continues to rise.This is a completely fictional story, not based on real life. I wrote this with the utmost respect for the man and his family.
Warning: Homesickness, Family Distance, Mention of Sexual Assault (not between OC and Cillian), Sexual Harassment, Date Rape Drug/Roofies
Words: 2700
Next | Masterlist
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Chapter 1: Eire's Depths
Closing the laptop with too much force, Jiyan started massaging her temples, hoping to alleviate the tension and praying she wouldn't have to deal with a migraine anytime soon.
The library was silent; the only sound was the rain against the windows, soothing the last students. Even if the new semester just started, there were only a few people left in the study area on a Saturday afternoon. Most students had already headed to the pub for a pint or were getting ready for the clubs later.
Jiyan checked her phone, noticing too many messages she had been ignoring since the morning. Sighing, she opened her brother's chat and found three unread messages.
14h11: Ready for a call later?
16h22: Mom is pacing, almost started ironing. You need to call tonight.
18h42: Seriously sis... if you don't call tonight, I will sedate her and take the first plane to yours.
Jiyan chuckled and quickly answered Mikael.
19h13: Ironing, huh? Almost need an intervention.
19h13: Will call soon, little bro. Don't despair.
Clearing the table of books and notes, she put her laptop and the last few things away in her backpack.
Outside, it was raining. Again. 
And it was dark. Already.
Coming from a country where the sun kissed Jiyan's skin almost every day, the continuous rain on this island pierced her heart each time. She was tired and hoped to get home, have a cup of tea, and finally make the call she had been postponing for the last two weeks, perhaps even forgetting what she was doing on this verdant yet depressingly weathered island.
The ride to her place was fast, and the bus was on time, something she was gradually getting used to. Entering the small studio made her feel restless and anxious, intensifying the pressure on her temples. Looking around the space she had started calling home in the last few months did ease her discomfort a little. 
Having spent her childhood moving to different countries, Jiyan was acutely aware of the housing crises almost everywhere. Still, she was taken aback by the difficulty of finding a flat in Dublin.
After a month spent in a hostel dorm and countless useless house visits, her desperation reached a point where she considered a dubious Craigslist post seeking help in renovating an old studio. 
When she first checked it out, she realized the studio was actually above a car repair shop, and apparently, no one had lived there for about 30 years. Sean, the guy who owned the shop, almost cracked up when she asked about costs and materials. It took her a good 5 minutes to persuade him that she was capable of almost any woodworking task and that she could undertake the restorations in her spare time and during weekends if she could live there. They struck a deal: Sean would foot the bill for materials, and until the renovation was done, she'd cover her living expenses by doing all the work herself.
After two months of solid effort, she'd managed to put in new wood floors, set up a functional bathroom with a brand-new shower, and even start building herself a kitchen. Sure, the place was small, didn't have central heating, and still looked like a bit of a mess, but the one thing that sealed the deal for her was the wood stove. It reminded her of her mom’s cabin up in the mountains, where she'd spend lazy afternoons by the fire, lost in a good book with a cup of tea in hand. So, if she could bring a bit of that cozy feeling into her new place, she figured she'd be all set, even with juggling her university work and research study.
It took a couple of minutes to get the fire going and put the kettle on for some fresh mint green tea. Once she finished her first cup, she dialed her little brother's number.
"Finally, are you becoming such a loser that you're spending your Saturday at the library now?"
"It's called work, Mika. Something you'll learn soon enough."
"Yeah, of course, like I'm not living with a psychopath right now. She almost started ironing the bed sheets, Aji. We need an intervention here, immediately. Mom never cleans; she moved from Turkey because she couldn't stand spending her time cleaning. You need to convince her that you're fine."
"I am fine," Jiyan repeated for the thousandth time. "And Mom moved from Turkey because we're Kurds, and she wanted to avoid spending her time in jail for teaching her language in school."
"You're fine?" Mikael said incredulously. "You're living in the land of Mordor. It's been a week since you've seen any sun; I checked the weather!"
"It's not that bad. I'm starting to like the rain," Jiyan said, convincing no one. "And I like the job."
"Is that Aji?" she heard her mom in the background, stealing the phone from her brother.
"Aji, how are you?" her mother's worried voice asked.
"Hey Mom, I'm good. Mika told me you need an intervention."
"Your brother should be studying for his finals, focusing on his Latin test," Jiyan's mother said after a pause. "It's been weeks since we've heard from you, Jiyan."
Jiyan stared out of the window, feeling guilt and pressure rising in her chest.
"I'm sorry, Mom. It's just... I'm super busy with work and renovation here. I started building the kitchen from scratch, and most of the time, I forget to check my phone. I'm fine, really," she tried to reassure her.
"You're avoiding, little star, and today is a difficult day for you. You should be here, not alone on an island without sun," her mother insisted.
Jiyan really didn't want to have this conversation; she moved to this island to avoid this topic.
"It's all good, Mom. It's not a big deal," she said. "Also, I'm meeting new people; it's a good change," she added, feeling the lie stinging her tongue.
She heard her mom sigh. "I miss you, little star."
"I miss you too, Mom. Also, Mika, I need to go now. I'll call you next week."
"You do that, or I'm sending your brother there to check on you."
Jiyan chuckled and smiled. "We'll lose him at the first change of trains."
"Every battle has its losses."
Now really laughing, she closed the call. "Love you, Mom."
"Love you too, little star."
Jiyan put down her phone, staring again at the window. She knew she needed a distraction and couldn't spend the rest of the day inside alone. Not even building furniture could distract her today. 
She put on her jacket and boots, grabbed the keys, almost sprinting outside in the rain. 
Again.
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Snap.
5 points.
Snap.
5 points.
Snap.
15 points.
Sighing disappointedly, Jiyan walked over to the dartboard to retrieve the darts. It had been two weeks since she discovered this pub near her place. The music was usually pretty good, and it could be a cozy spot during weeknights. It wasn't usually too crowded, which suited her just fine. She'd come in to have a soda and play darts, avoiding the regulars and the occasional group of tourists who tried to strike up a conversation.
She knew she stood out as a woman in a pub on a Saturday night, playing darts alone. That night, she had already dodged two American tourists who tried to flirt and offer to "teach her" how to play. 
On the other hand, the regulars, after giving her strange looks for the first couple of nights, now hardly noticed or bothered her, accepting the odd loner who didn't drink beer and spent hours throwing darts. Tonight, unfortunately, the pub was busier than usual, with some tourist groups disturbing her vibe.
Feeling a presence behind her, she tensed up immediately.
"Hey, baby, what are you drinking? Can I buy you the next round?"
Jiyan turned around to face a stranger who looked like the typical Chad character from any American high school drama.
"No thanks, I'm good," she replied shortly, turning back to focus on her game.
"Come on, I saw you looking at me. You were checking me out, I saw you."
"Excuse me?" she said, annoyed, not having a clue what he was talking about.
"Yeah, when you went to order your drink, you smiled. The guys and I are having a blast; you could come join us. I promise you a great night."
Jiyan took a deep breath, trying not to get too annoyed. "Listen, Chad, if that's even your name—I don't care. I'm not here to make friends or have a good time with your guys. I was having fun until 30 seconds ago when I didn't even know of your existence. Can we go back to that, please? Thanks, bro."
"My name's not Chad," he replied, irritated.
"Yeah, sure, whatever," Jiyan said dismissively, hoping the conversation would end there, and she could get back to her new form of therapy: throwing darts.
Chad returned to his table muttering something about a "stupid bitch," but Jiyan didn't have the energy tonight to educate a stranger about basic respect and boundaries.
She took the last sip of her lemonade and headed to the bathroom, ordering another one from the bartender. When she returned, finding the new bottle of lemonade near the dartboard, she resumed her evening.
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Cillian was onto his second pint when his attention wandered again to the peculiar woman in the far corner of the pub, throwing darts.
She seemed to be in her late 20s, sporting a hand-knit beanie that partially obscured her long dark hair. Her frame was small, drowned in a pair of jeans and an oversized dark hoodie. Each time she retrieved her darts from the board and turned around, Cillian found himself momentarily distracted from the conversation, captivated by her large green-leaf eyes.
Despite her efforts to blend in with her dull, oversized attire, every straight man in the pub couldn't help but notice her attractiveness.
Dermot, noticing Cillian's repeated glances, remarked, "She's new around here, lives in the area, spends her nights alone playing darts. Connor was annoyed the first night because she doesn't drink or eat, but apparently, she tips well, so we see her almost every night now."
Cillian raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Do you stalk all the newbies at the pub? Should I be worried? Should I give Connie a call?"
Dermot chuckled. "Like you didn't glance in her direction every five seconds. Just doing you a favor, pal."
Snorting, Cillian covered his blush with a sip from his pint. "I was just curious, and I wasn't staring at her the whole time."
"Sure, sure. Maybe we don't need to worry about you after all. You've been holed up in your basement for a month, and now look at you! You should go talk to her."
Cillian shook his head. "I'm gearing up for the new role, and it's been busy..."
Dermot glanced at his friend. "It's okay, you know, to try again? You're not a bad guy, and not all stories work out, mate."
Cillian looked down at his pint, taking another sip. He hadn't wanted to go out tonight and dwell on his last relationship. After a couple of weeks of seclusion, he was finally finding his balance. It wasn't that he missed her; they both knew the interest had faded months ago. They had reached a point where they were uncomfortable around each other and only ended up hurting one another.
He was just tired.
At 34, he was already questioning if this was it, his life—filled only with jobs he loved and relationships that would fill his life for a few months before inevitably ending.
Glancing up, he noticed a tourist from a nearby table approaching the young woman. Dermot and he said nothing for a moment, watching with interest. She appeared mostly annoyed and seemed to handle the situation well. After a brief exchange, she returned to her darts, and the guy slunk back to his table looking disgruntled.
Dermot chuckled after a sip from his pint, jesting, "Or maybe not the best idea, it looks like not even your piercing blue eyes would work this time."
Cillian snorted. "I think Enda would kill me if I showed up tomorrow with anything less than perfect condition. He owns me until the end of this play."
"Best not risk it, then."
They spent the next half-hour joking, with Dermot updating Cillian on Corinna and their new pregnancy. Cillian tried not to glance at the dartboard anymore, but he couldn't help but notice the American guy hurrying back to her corner after she ordered something from the bar, only to return to his table before she came back. Hopefully, he had finally realized she wasn't interested.
Around 11, they both decided to settle the bill and end their Saturday night.
Connor asked if everything was okay, and they both tipped him generously. It had taken some time for Cillian to find a place where no one cared about him or his career, and he didn't want to ruin it.
While Dermot quickly went to the restroom, Cillian cast one last glance at the dartboard, only to find the corner of the pub empty, with only her half-drunk bottle remaining.
Connor followed his gaze and grunted. "She forgot to pay, these damn tourists."
Surprised, Cillian looked at him. "I can cover her tab..."
"Why should you?" interrupted Connor, waving his hand dismissively. "She's here most nights; it will be covered, don't worry."
While waiting for Dermot, Cillian's eyes wandered to the American group's table, where they were laughing and shaking their heads conspiratorially. He noticed almost immediately that the persistent guy was missing and a bad feeling washed over him.
"Ready? Conie's going to kill me if I get home too late again, and maybe this time I can avoid sleeping on the couch," Dermot said, noticing Cillian's worried expression.
"What?" he asked Cillian.
Shaking his head, Cillian replied, "Nothing, let's go. Goodnight, Connor."
"Goodnight, lads."
Stepping outside, the cold, fresh air jolted Cillian awake. The street was quiet, unusually empty for a Saturday night. Glancing around before bidding farewell to Dermot, something caught his eye. In the corner of the street near the alley that led to the back of the pub, he noticed a jacket he recognized from inside. Dermot was saying something to him, but he wasn't paying attention, drawn closer to the alley where he found the guy from inside with his arms around an intoxicated young woman. She seemed unaware of what was happening and unable to stand on her own.
"Hey! What are you doing to her?" Cillian exclaimed, getting the guy's attention.
The guy jumped, almost letting the girl fall to the ground.
"Just helping her, man," he replied quickly. "Mind your business and go back inside."
Dermot, who had reached Cillian by then, also saw the scene unfolding before them. "What the fuck is happening here?"
The guy appeared more concerned now and, realizing Cillian wasn't alone, released the woman he was carrying, pushing past Cillian to leave the alley.
Cillian quickly moved closer, trying to catch her before she hit the ground. She now looked unconscious, and he gently laid her down, checking her vitals.
"What the fuck, man, this is so fucked up," Dermot said.
"Dermot, call 999. I'm not sure if she's breathing properly," Cillian said, alarmed. "Who knows what the fuck he gave her."
He wasn't paying attention to his friend but was focused on trying to make her a bit more comfortable. After a few moments of cradling her head, he noticed her scrunching her nose and grimacing. She opened her eyes, and Cillian found himself momentarily lost in them.
"Hey," he said softly as she stared at him. "It's going to be okay, alright? Just breathe; the ambulance is coming."
She didn't respond, just continued gazing at him with those beautiful green eyes, looking a little confused.
"It's going to be okay," he repeated, even softer this time. "I'm here. You're not alone. Just rest."
And she smiled, causing his heart to skip a beat, before closing those bright jade eyes once more.
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Thank you so much for taking the time to read. Your feedback, in any form, makes me happy. See you at the next one :)
amazing dividers from cafekitsune
91 notes · View notes
leggerefiore · 3 days ago
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so I have an angst request that I’m wondering if you could do. I love the fankids but I’m wondering if for some reason the fankids end up in another world. Where they don’t exist. Their respective parents exist but due to some nonsense (Cyrus and his refusal to stop, Grimsley cheating, Nanu pushing reader away) their parents never got together and now they are stuck in such an unfamiliar place without the comfort of their parents. They stay with reader and the pokemen realize that in another world they are happy and have a loving family. So lots of angst from all sides until one day the real parents come to rescue their children and take them away. Leaving the people in this weird world confused and in despair. Hope that makes sense! Idk why I am in such a mood lol
cw: angst, some (not) parental arguing in cyrus's part, cheating in grimsley's, fankids amuck
characters: Grimsley, Cyrus, Nanu
i wrote this for no one to read lmao. changed the request a bit sorryyyy
interesting
♠️Grimsley❤️
♤ Nero held tightly onto Morrigan as they looked around at their surroundings. It was still Alola, same as ever. A place he originally had been upset about moving to, yet now it was a comfort to see. The Ultra Wormhole had been a surprise, both had not been expected such a thing to just pull them in. Nanu had warned them – Telling them stories of fallers without memories ending up in unknown places. They had not had their memories scrambled, at least. Well, he had not. Morrigan had fallen unconscious. It seemed that it likely had just looped them back around. He bravely supported his twin on his shoulder and headed towards the nearest pokemon centre.
♡ Yet, as he headed to the one near the Tapu Village, he passed a familiar man. A man who was just about to walk past them when he felt his annoyance spike. How could he ignore his son and daughter like that!? It was frustrating enough that his father never seemed to learn from his mistakes. His glare seemed to make the gambler come to a stop. “… May I help you?” he asked, “Are you playing the hero to a helpless damsel with the hopes of winning big in the end?” Nero felt like gagging. That was his sister.
◇ “… You're not funny, dad,” Nero grumbled, “Help me with Morrigan. She's been unconscious for a minute, and I'm seriously worried.” He went to move his sister to the older man, but Grimsley took a step back. Icy blue eyes observed him for too closely before switching to Morrigan. He cocked up a brow and brought a hand to his chin. “… Dad,” Nero urged, “Seriously. Help. This is your daughter. Don't you care about her?” This once more caught the gambler off guard. There was much pondering.
♧ “Can you tell your parent I don't appreciate being informed of such a monumental thing in this way?” was Grimsley's reply, “Do they want child support or something? I'm completely broke these days. They played their hot hand too late.” Nero felt frustrated. Was he mocking them? This truly was not the time. He felt Morrigan begin to stir. Her head lifted as she looked around and grasped her head. Then, her gaze landed on Grimsley.
♤ “Dad!” she smiled and moved to hug the gambler, “Nero and I got pulled into one of the Ultra Wormholes!” Grimsley awkwardly dodged her affection. She tilted her head, unsure if this was her dad messing with her. “… Well, I guess it was mostly my fault,” she admitted, “The thrill of whether we would end up in some strange alien world was too much to resist.” His expression was strange at her words. She shrunk back. He almost looked like he was regarding her as one might an insect.
♡ “… I don't know what lies you have been fed,” he let out a breath, “But, I have little interest in being a dad. I doubt you're my only children out there. Just because I had some on and off again relationship with your parent doesn't mean I'm interested in you.” He shook his head. Morrigan took a step back, confused. It was the first time in her like in which her father had ever spoken so harshly to him. Nero stepped forward and stomped a foot at him, already sick of his shit. Whatever game he was playing at, he was taking too far. Being cruel to Morrigan for seemingly no reason and insulting their other parent was too much. Grimsley actually looked a bit intimidated. “… They should have told you this. I made that clear before we broke up.”
◇ Both stood shocked. Broken… up? Neither could recall their parents being unhappy with another despite the circumstance that had happened to them. In fact, if anything, their other parent had been happy Grimsley had more time to lavish on them. Both looked at one another in horror at the thought. This had to be another world. Or Grimsley was really messing with him, but both could tell his expression was too real. “… What?” he questioned, cooking a brow at the twins, “Did they not tell you? Apparently, when I started dating them, I wasn't supposed to keep sleeping around.” Nero had to be physically held back. Though, it did confirm that this was not their world.
♧ Before the situation could intensify any further, a familiar voice called out their names. Both stood astonished when their father seemingly appeared with you in strange not-quite spacesuits. The other Grimsley took a few steps back when his counterpart removed his helmet. “… Oh, man, you two actually nearly gave me a heart attack,” he seemingly ignored his lookalike to approach the two kids, “You certainly did Nanu. The old man was calling all the shots on your missing investigation. Didn't think he was that attached to you both.” He brought a hand to rest on each of their shoulders. Morrigan soon shoved Nero out of the way to cling to Grimsley. Nero watched as the other one observed how you approached them, too, smiling softly. He should have felt at ease.
♤ “… What a situation,” the other Grimsley remarked, placing a hand on his hip. It was clear that he could comprehend this scene. Yes, he understood Ultra Wormholes thanks to Nanu's badgering about avoiding them, but here stood a testament to something far greater than his understanding. Something inside of him twisted at the sight of the happy family. It was something that he never desire, but he could observe the genuine smile on his counterpart's face. “… Did something happen to your head?” he questioned his alternate self.
♡ That Grimsley managed to escape his daughter's hold. Turning to his counterpart, he tilted his head. “… Nope,” his simple reply was with a shrug, “I fell in love. I simply couldn't resist them, and now I've built myself up something. It's better than any high from a thrill.” He pointed the twins to follow you as he headed away. “When you really want something as yours… It drives you into a special kind of madness.” He bid his counterpart farewell and walked over wrap an arm around his partner's waist.
That Grimsley pondered if he could have ended up like his counterpart.
🌌Cyrus🛰
☄️ Cyllene would admit she was perhaps a little too playful. Even if she was a child, there were certain things she knew better than to do yet still did. Engaging with Palkia was chief among them. The legendary had opened a portal, and she, curious crawled in. Which led to her seemingly being atop Mt Coronet. She was lost as to what had happened, but simply assumed that Palkia had created a portal to the top of the mountain. She opted against thinking too much on it, as nothing was immediately odd or uncommon. That was until she found herself riding the train back towards Veilstone. Most people glanced at her strangely. It made her a bit nervous, but she otherwise made her home trip as normal.
☄️ The glances in Veilstone were far more intense as she was spotted by some Galactic grunts. She tilted her head at their reaction. They gazed at her like some unexpected oddity. She ignored them and simply made her way to apartment her family resided in. It was only as she approached the door that she realised she did not have her key. Nervously, she brought her tiny fist to knock against the door. It was quiet for far too long until the speaker beside the door beeped on. “… Are you lost?” It was unmistakably the voice of her father, “There is a police box just a few buildings down. They can help out find your parents.” Cyllene stood stunned. Her eyes went wide, and her heart raced in her chest. Her father was not one for such jokes. Tears burned her eyes.
☄️ “… F-Father…?” her voice was small. The PA system was quiet for but a moment. Then a reply. A simple questioning, “Pardon?” Cyllene moved closer to the speaker, knowing it doubled as a camera. “… Dad…” she begged, “Please…. please don't tease me…” She felt like crying. More silence followed before the door clicked open to reveal the man who was no doubt her father. He was wearing more casual clothing and his hair was unstyled, but it was him. She clung to his legs and felt herself begin to cry. Why was he being mean to her?
☄️ This Cyrus stood stunned, however, at this little girl who stood outside his home. He was no fool. The resemblance was plain as day. This child was a relative of his, if not directly related to him. Some horrible sense of empathy burned in his hardened heart as she wept. Instinct got the better of him as he knelt down and rested a hand on her back. Her reactions… They reminded him of someone. He swallowed. Judging by her age… It was not illogical to assume a possibility that she was… He sighed. “There, there…” his voice was soft, “… Are you claiming that you are my daughter?”
☄️ Cyllene nodded. She could not fathom her own father not recognising her. Had he attempted to mess with the Lake Guardians once again? Her panic led to her gripping his arms tightly. “Father…” she mumbled. His eyes went wide. Another question came from him. A question about her whole parentage. Cyllene blinked at this one. “… My other parent is…” A familiar name left her. Cyrus was frozen by her words. His theory… It was correct. How could this be? The question was about to leave him before he finally motioned her in the apartment.
☄️ Cyllene was further shocked at the state of it. There was no trace of family home she had come to know. Nothing of the small projects she had worked on with her father or the bed for Weavile in the living room. It was dark and seemingly mostly unused. Slowly, it finally set in about what had occurred. She felt sick. All she wanted was her Rotom toy or her bed or for her father to sit her in his lap and explain a star map to her. Instead, she was stuck with an alternate reality version of her father. One who clearly did not recognise her. More tears escaped her eyes. This Cyrus seemed to attempt to comfort her again.
☄️ Forcing down her torment, she was faced with a situation. Yet, before she could be given a chance to explain, her father had out his phone and was making a phone call. His tone was reserved, but Cyllene recognised the voice on the other end of the call. A demand was made for them to meet him at once. Seemingly, they relented after a bit of back and forth. Cyrus informed her she would be back with her other parent soon enough. Yet, they needed to have a chat before he handed her back off. Cyllene felt bewildered. There was no time to object when he grasped her hand tugged her along to a certain building in Veilstone. There stood another, waiting with their arms crossed and clear frustration on their face. Though, this was changed when they saw Cyrus approach with Cyllene.
☄️ “Why did you fail to tell me of our child!?” Cyrus's voice was a rare kind of loud and aggressive. Cyllene was startled away from him due to it. Her other parent stood shocked, too. Their eyes went to Cyllene and back to Cyrus. A simple response of not knowing failed to appease the man. The two soon fell into an argument, making Cyllene curl into herself. Panic burned inside her and made her arms feel numb. All she could do was tap to two stones she found on the ground together. It only seemed to grow worse and worse until finally a voice cut through the fighting.
☄️ “Cyllene.” Her head whipped up as tears fell from her eyes. There, approaching from stairs leading up to the Galactic building was another Cyrus. His gaze was firmly on her. Her legs had never moved so quickly. This version of the Galactic Boss caught her and held her tightly to himself. Another person ran up the stair to them. You. Her eyes burned as you brought a hand gently to comb through her hair. The alternate pair of you both came to an abrupt silence.
☄️ “… What is this?” the Cyrus of this world asked. The Cyrus she knew shook his head. “… Pointless to discuss such things. The idea of parallel worlds existing is something that you are no doubt aware of,” was his reply, “It seems we are two versions of the same person who engaged with different choices. Intriguing.” He clutched Cyllene tighter to himself. The other Cyrus nodded. The other you stood shocked at how close you were to your Cyrus. “… I apologise. We will be correcting this error,” with those words, Cyllene was lifted into the air and carried away by her father to a nearby portal.
Somehow, she felt as if those two had been changed by the experience.
🐈‍⬛️Nanu❤️‍🩹
🌑 Ohi'a would admit what he did was dumb. And, without a doubt, would piss off his dad. The geezer probably would be ready to kill him and then himself if he learnt that he got pulled in an Ultra Wormhole. It really had not been his fault. A toddler almost pulled in, and he dumbly rushed over to push them out of the way. He, instead, was sucked in. Yet… Despite all the horror stories of fallers and Miss Anabel's own existence, he did not fell discombobulated nor without his memories. Looking around, in fact, he still just seemed to be in Alola. The same as ever. He shrugged it off and headed back towards the Po Town police station. He needed to discuss whatever happened with his dad even if it was going to be a pain in the ass. He could already feel the hardened glare of the Kahuna piercing his soul.
🌑 He found himself approaching the station, seeing a familiar man and girl outside the door. Both turned to glance at him strangely. Ohi'a cocked up a brow at them. Acerola approached him with a bright smile and asked if he was lost. He was bewildered. Lost? He lived here. His gaze drifted to his dad, who was trying to pretend that he was not there. “… Huh?” he finally spoke, “… It's me. Ohi'a. I live here.” Acerola's head tilted while Nanu's attention finally shifted onto him.
🌑 “… In Alola?” Nanu finally cut in, carefully treading over, “Where, boy? You aren't trying to join Team Skull, are you?” His hands were in his pockets. Those crimson eyes stared into his own matching ones as if attempting to intimidate him. Ohi'a's nose scrunched up. What? He was acting extremely suspicious towards him. Why? Acerola was even treating him like an anomaly, too. It stung more than he would like to admit. Was this some kind of punishment? It was not like his father at all. Nanu could be a bit of a hard ass, but nothing cruel. Something was wrong here.
🌑 “… No. I mean…” Ohi'a trailed off, pondering what to say. The idea of parallel realities was no unknown to him. That one trainer on their island challenge had told him about their travels in the Ultra Wormhole. An alternate reality, far into the future of a destroyed Hau'Oli city. He stiffened up. Bringing his hand to the back of his neck, he sighed. “… Look, I don't think you'll believe me, but I fell through an Ultra Wormhole,” he explained. Nanu tensed up visibly at his words. “Through some struck of luck, I still have my memories,” he met his gaze, “… No idea what's going on in this world, but in mine, you're my old man.”
🌑 Nanu registered his words in an instant. The suspicion towards him somehow seemed to both fall and increase. Shaking his head, a sigh left him. Acerola gasped at Ohi'a's words and looked between Nanu and him. The Kahuna motioned for him to follow him into the police station. He waved Acerola off, too. Both of them sat in the station for a moment in silence. Ohi'a took in that it seemed much more… different from his memories. A single couch for sleeping. Nothing really to survive on. Some take-out and instant ramen about. “… So, can I ask who your other parent is?” he finally broke the silence. Something told Ohi'a that he already had an idea. His reply of a certain name only got a nod. “Figured…” He sighed, “… Am I a happy family man in your world or something?”
🌑 “… Nope,” Ohi'a replied, watching a Meowth approach him and give his hand a sniff. He brought a hand to pet the pokemon. Its soft fur, a familiar comfort. Nanu observed the interaction. “You're exactly the same, but you're married,” he shrugged, “… I guess you get busy with us, though. Tapu Bulu seems quite happy you had a kid.” Nanu scoffed at that. “I need to get back, you know” he continued, “My parents… They'll end up worried. You seem to think I'm more trouble than I'm worth until something happens to me.”
🌑 Nanu glanced at him. “… Are they happy?” he asked seriously. Ohi'a thought on his family for a moment. It was difficult to tell with how tormented Nanu could be, but he knew his father simply enjoyed the peacefulness of being in a loving relationship. You adored Nanu, often being far too affectionate for either of their tastes, but the small smile on his father's lips. You were happy as can be. Despite everything, he felt his family life was healthy. His parents were in a loving relationship, and they both cared for him.
🌑 “… Pretty much,” he nodded, “… What happened here?” He glanced at the alternate version of his father. Nanu shook his head. Ohi'a felt curious. His father always seemed quite attached to his other parent, typically being quite open to whatever they wanted simply to appease them or make them happy. Granted, it was still in his usual lazy fashion, but it was much like a cat putting up with its owner annoying it out of love. “Are you not together?” Another head shake. Ohi'a felt his heart drop. It was already strange enough being in a world where he did not exist, but his parents not being together felt strangely more difficult.
🌑 Before the conversation could grow any deeper, the door to the station opened, revealing three people in strange suits. Ohi'a recognised them as the attire of the Ultra Recon Squad. Stepping in, one removed their helmet to meet the eyes of the other two. Another Nanu. It felt like something out of a bad movie. “… There you are,” he walked to Ohi'a, “… You're more trouble than you're worth, boy.” The boy rolled his eyes in return. The other person revealed themselves to be you as you rushed over to hug him. He groaned at the tightness. The third actually seemed to be one of the Ultra Recon members.
🌑 The other Nanu relaxed as the recon member explained that they had a way to safely return to their original world. Yet, he felt himself staring at the family for far too long. Everything he had rejected because he felt so unworthy stood right in front of him. His counterpart met his eye. “Thanks for watching over him,” he nodded, “I apologise if he caused any problems.” The Kahuna shook his head. As the four departed from the station, he sat alone for a moment in deep thought.
Maybe he should contact them. It probably was not too late.
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robinbuckleyluvr · 1 day ago
Text
⊹˚˖⁺ our childhood is gone - steve harrington
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masterlist | requests
pairing: steve harrington x platonic fem!reader
summary: reader and steve end tied up in the secret russian base, where the reader turns to anger and finally confronts steve after he threw out their friendship just for popularity.
warnings: none
notes: i love angst long live angst
word count: 864
⸻⊱༺ 
When she first walked into her new job and saw Steve Harrington, she could not believe it. How could Steve, the most entitled and pretentious guy at Hawkins, end up with a crappy job at an ice cream parlor?
A bit hypocritical to say, seeing as though she had the same job. 
They exchanged a polite ‘Hello’ that first day, but no words were spoken. There was no acknowledgement of their past, of their friendship they once cherished, ever since they were 9 years old. High school had completely turned Steve into a jerk, and she resented him for it. Him and his ‘friends’ would stare and laugh when she’d walk by, just like they did with anyone they deemed ‘uncool’.
What hurt most, was making eye contact with him.
She never once saw an apologetic look from him. Not then, not now, not ever.
Scoops was a dead-end too, as she pretended not to know him, and he did the same.
How they ended up in an underground Russian base, tied to chairs sitting back-to-back with each other, was a question neither could answer. They sat in silence, waiting and fearing whoever was due to come in the room to question them.
“So…” Steve began, attempting to light up the dreary mood.
“So what?” Y/N snapped. Not a single bone in her wanting to be kind to him.
“I just, you know… quite the situation we’re in here.”
“Cut the shit, Harrington. Don’t act like you want to make small talk with me right now.”
Steve sat quiet. They both did for a few minutes. Taking in the gravity of the situation they faced, and the uncomfortable silence that filled the room.
“You know,” Y/N laughed, sarcasm lacing her words, “You really are the same person you were back in high school. When I first saw you here… I cannot believe I really thought you’d changed. But of course, you didn’t. You’re still the same douchebag you used to be… pretending not to know me. You’re an ass.”
Steve was at a loss for words, “Oh, don’t act like you’re a saint,” He snapped, “You ignored me too. I guess you’re a douche too, then.”
“It takes one to know one. I wasn’t the one who went prancing around to the ‘cool’ kids as soon as we entered high school just because I wanted to be ‘someone’.”
“At least I was someone.”
“Harrington, I think you’ll be happy to know, making fun of people doesn’t make you ‘someone’. It just makes you an asshole.” She shot back.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” He muttered under his breath.
“You are fucking unbelievable.”
He rolled his eyes in response, “For the love of God, I’m sorry, okay?” 
“You don’t even know what to be sorry for, Harrington.” She hissed, “A half-assed apology won’t get you anywhere after the hell you made me go through these past 3 years. You know, when I first started high school, I foolishly thought ‘How cool! I have my awesome, cool, friend, Steve Harrington in the grade above me! What could go wrong?’”
Steve laughed, “You did not say that–”
“Of course not, asshole, I was being sarcastic.” She sighed, “I still did not think you and your fucking ‘friends’ would make it hell to walk through those halls. Never had a single day of peace. If you weren’t making fun of the books I carried, it was the way I walked. Or the way I wore my hair. How does doing that to so many people not haunt you, Steve?”
He stared at the floor. His expression dropping with each word she spoke, hurt and sarcasm never leaving her voice.
“Do you not regret it, Harrington?”
They both reflected on the words exchanged, the minutes dragging out before they spoke again. Their minds raced and dwelled in the hurt and regret filling the air.
“I do. I never thought it was going to go that way. I never thought…” He paused, “I never wanted to hurt anyone. But I sat with them on my first day. And suddenly I was part of it, I finally… belonged somewhere. I started playing basketball with them, and before I knew it, I was in too deep. I never planned to make fun of people in the halls, but when you stand there with them, careful not to laugh too loud and… they turn to you and wait for you to make a comment, you just do. ”
“Please,” She huffed, “You’re not getting any pity from me with that fuck-ass story. You threw away years of friendship to make fun of people and shoot balls up at the ceiling? Fuck you.”
“I’m sorry.” Steve responded quietly. “You’re right. I was a coward, an asshole, and a douche. Everything you said,” He sighed, “You are correct about it all. I hurt a lot of people, and I do wish I could un-do that damage. I wish I hadn’t thrown our friendship away either.”
“You were my best friend,” She spoke, her voice breaking, “I wanted to believe in the 9 year old Steve I once met. But you made me feel invisible.”
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azaharinflames · 2 days ago
Note
I’m loving your theories on the whole BuckTommy (sorry Lou ilu but the name BuckTommy has stuck with me) arc. So I have to ask… why do you think people (read: fandom people) are convinced this is the last season? I really don’t see ABC/Disney undertaking this big of a show (money and following wise) and being like “yeah we’ll put time and effort into this production, but only for one season”
Thank you! Glad you love them, I feel slightly less of a clown when people understand how I think lol. Also - I was rooting for Tevan hard, and even Firefly, but I've accepted Bucktommy and now it has a special place in my heart.
As for your question... I think it all comes to change.
Let me explain. For shows to have a long life, they have to change. They have to evolve. We cannot feel as if we are tuning in to the same thing every week, especially when the same thing has long become boring. I will put Modern Family (my ultimate comfort show) as an example: the whole eleven seasons are of constant change. We are growing with the characters, we are happy, frustrated, sad, whatever, with their actions and choices. And because they are changing, we want to tune in next week to see what will be next.
911 has a severe issue of lack of change. The characters go through these cycles constantly; we said Buck was in a hamster wheel, but the truth is that every single character is in there, too. The writers are somehow unable to find new storylines or conflicts, that aren't what we have seen already, only this time with a new context.
This is partly the reason why so many people, and why a big part of the GA, latched onto Tommy and BuckTommy so quickly - because they were a breath of fresh air, and they felt like the much-needed novelty we were all expecting. If we don't have them, we go to the same repetitive stories - with Buck, but with everyone else, too, to be honest.
And if there is no change... people get bored. There are just so many times you can see Henren on the brink of losing their kids, or Buck trying to find the one (it's stopped being cute, especially when he just had the perfect partner for him walk away), Eddie being unable to move on or forget Shannon (because as much as he's 'better' - has he actually dealt with it?), Madney having either a kid storyline or a Dough-influenced storyline, Bathena having issues with communicating... eight seasons is a long time of this. And unless they change it up, just how much longer can they go? We joke about Grey's sometimes, but the fact is that they are constantly changing.
So. That's partly it.
But (without wanting to make this a whole novel), there were also rumors that some cast was hesitant to continue. Take this with a grain of salt, please, but rumor has it that Peter was kind of ready to walk away a while ago. He even has said in interviews he cannot do this for much longer, as 911 is a very exigent show to shoot. He even wanted Bobby to be killed off at the S7 opening emergency. Angela has also expressed a desire to be on Broadway, so that could also be conflicting. Again, take it with a grain of salt.
And as for ABC - you're right, they bought 911. But with the upcoming spin-off, one can't help but wonder if it is not complimentary but, rather, a substitute. Perhaps they are planning on moving someone from the OG there, who knows. The fact is that they managed to catch the audience's attention with the OG, enough that if they lose it but immediately have a variation of it, they might tune in. And this new show would be cheaper than OG is right now because let me tell you - it ain't cheap, as far as I am aware.
If you want my personal opinion on this - I am 50-50. I think it would be a very weird final season if this was the last, but I wouldn't be that surprised if we find out it is. I can see them going for a ninth season, but I cannot see them going further than a tenth, and that is being really generous. If they prove me wrong and are willing to adapt to change, I will happily eat my words.
PS: I do think if this is the last season, or even if we have it in the next couple of years, they could bring Tommy back (if they haven't yet), as a sort of rushed HEA. Kind of playing with the whole 'right person, wrong time', just bringing it to the right time finally.
Thanks for the ask <3
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kyoghurts · 5 hours ago
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春のような微笑み
( a smile like spring )
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you, rumored to be one of the most unapproachable, dismissive people—and even rude, according to a handful of acquaintances—are yet to be proven by your own actions, which are the total opposite of the rumors. perhaps the perception was fueled by brief, impersonal interactions or whispers from those who never truly knew you. sure, your wordings could come off a little harsh, your tone as monotone as a tired teller on a monday morning, or your gaze cold enough to drown someone in antarctica, but those traits don’t define you as a whole. not when they finally saw your frost thaw for the first time.
OR furin boys when they see your soft side for the first time <3
contents. fluff | headcanons & small drabbles. featuring sakura haruka, nirei akihiko, suo hayato, kiryu mitsuki, ren kaji, and umemiya hajime!
notes. title is inspired by the song 二十歳の恋 (hatachi no koi) by lamp! go read this while listening to it ^_^ get cozy and comfy, and enjoy reading this little treat i made. i also based off the reader of myself bc i have the perpetual rbf, unfortunately.
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SAKURA HARUKA’s thoughts would probably spiral, his mind unable to process what he’s seeing. a long, beeping sound rings in his head as he watches you—you—smiling in front of him, your eyes gleaming with a hint of mirth. he’s frozen to the ground, completely lost for words or actions. the moment sinks in, and then—his cheeks flush in embarrassment. what the hell was that?!
things start to change until then, your softness is suddenly at the forefront of his thoughts. everything you do or say starts to make sense.
when you helped a small child who’d fallen off their feet one time, his gaze instantly renders the relaxed expression on your face, and there was warmth in your gesture.
“y-you should smile more often..” he’ll whisper to you when you’re both alone, he’s convinced that you can’t hear him. but really, it does something to your heart, far more than your reactions can show.
NIREI AKIHIKO is completely apprehensive when it comes to you, he’s never personally met you, but the way you carry yourself makes him feel like looking into your eyes would be like inviting a curse. so imagine him turning blank when he finally does, and all he can see is a quiet and grateful look when he instinctively reached out to hold the door open for you one random day while you were running late for your part time job, it felt surreal to say the least.
you were muttering under your breath, cursing your tardiness when you spotted nirei’s familiar figure near the entrance. before you could ask, he’d already moved to hold the door, and you managed a quick, slightly breathless, “thank you so much.” his brain went blank; the quiet, grateful look on your face rendered him motionless, a sense of disbelief washing over him.
imagine also the next day, when you approached him during his patrol and handed him a cold melon soda, his jaw nearly dropped. you didn’t say much, just a simple “thought you might need this,” he stared wide-eyed as you walked away, his heart pounding as he thought, this is a monumental day in my sixteen years of life.
SUO HAYATO is amused, to be fair, he’s turned deaf ears on mumbling rumors. he knows how you operate in just one glance, and doesn’t take your sudden shift in your disposition to be of news. instead, when your eyes light up as he approaches, your body language becoming more open and even chatting more than you usually do, he can’t help but feel a little internal happiness.
he’s a little amused by how you get more animated when you talk, he eggs you on a little, pushing you to talk more, until you don’t even realize it yourself. he can’t help but smile fondly at you, unbothered by how comfortable you’ve gotten, even if you don’t notice it.
hands you a bag of genmaicha without context, the sticky note he left doesn’t help either. it says, “not too fancy or too simple. easy to be around, but has depth that surprises when you least expect it.” and you’re just like “..???” but still appreciates the gesture, hoping you’ll crack this cryptic message once you taste the tea yourself.
(hint: he isn’t really talking about the tea)
KIRYU MITSUKI was subtly wary, both the rumors and you, but it only takes a stray cat to prove all of them wrong.
kiryu couldn’t shake the image of you crouched on the sidewalk, gently stroking the scruffy tabby’s fur, cooing softly like you were coaxing something fragile into trust. you have a thing for cats? he wanted to approach you then. the harsh, cold exterior he’s always seen in you is nowhere to be found, or maybe there wasn’t one in the first place. your resting bitch face just so happened to really intimidate someone without your knowing.
when you looked up and locked gazes, the faintest flush crosses your features, you stood up and brush off the encounter like it was nothing.
by then, kiryu couldn’t help but think of you whenever he sees any stray cats around, even petting them the same manner you did.
REN KAJI and the silence you offer is one he actually enjoys. but oh, when the rest of the furin boys walk ahead as the both of you take your time behind, with the sunset painting your relaxed features in warm glow, he couldn’t help but stare.
it softens the edges around your face, an almost imperceptible smile on your lips. you catch him staring and he immediately looks away. feeling the tips of his ears burn in embarrassment.
he sees in his peripherals the way you tilt your head, a question raised with your eyebrows, enough to acknowledge him without a word.
when he hears you chuckle, ren can’t tell if it’s amusement or something else. but oh, he didn’t know that a chuckle could sound this sweet. not even music could come close to the sound of it.
UMEMIYA HAJIME but instead of a chuckle, it’s a full, hearty laugh — prompted by his ridiculous and stupid jokes while the both of you tend to his plants & veggies
from the rooftop, everything is quieter than usual, only hearing the faint gust of wind and rustling of leaves. the lightness of the moment makes him utter jokes absentmindedly, until you scoff at him, and then he throws in another joke, one after the other
and then he gets startled when he delivers a punchline, startled by how genuine your laugh was. his joke was so ridiculous he had to choke in his own laughter
it feels so much lighter after, a shy smile forming your lips, and hajime feels his heart doing something funny. he clears his throat and pretends to focus back on the plants.
if he could, he wishes to keep this side of you to himself just a little longer. he’ll cherish it every day, and he’s already cherishing it now. a big dumb grin slipping its way while he blushes. he'll probably turn it into a mission to make you laugh like this. it's just so addicting, you look so sweet like this.
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© kyoghurts ⟢ reblogs and likes are well appreciated
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