#its not the same as a cafe trust me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

solelifauna · 18 days ago

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Yandere Batfam & Neglected Reader Prt. 4

Unemployment was not on your bucket list.

The rest of your shift dragged on, each minute weighed down by the persistent presence of Dick, Cass, and Damian. They loitered, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on. It was unnerving, knowing they were there—observing, calculating. You tried your best to ignore them, focusing on the customers and getting through the shift, but their eyes on you were impossible to shake.

Eventually, you glance at the clock. Your shift is finally coming to an end. A wave of relief washes over you. Soon, you’ll be out of here. You’ve been expecting a call from Alfred any minute now, either letting you know he’s “on the way” or already outside waiting for you. You clutch onto that thought, hoping for a quick getaway.

But that’s when you feel it, a firm hand on your shoulder. You flinch, startled, and whirl around to find Cassandra standing right behind you, her eyes sharp and her smile almost unsettling in its warmth.

“Y/N,” she said softly, her tone gentle but somehow–wrong.

“Can I–um–help you?” you ask, your voice betraying your unease. Cass is just as overtly intimidating as the others, if not more so. You know who trained her, you know what she's done, what she's capable of.

“We’ll take you home,” she says simply, the statement hanging in the air like an unbreakable decree.

You blink, not sure if you’ve heard her right. “What? I—Alfred’s picking me up,” you stammer, trying to figure out why the hell they’d want to take you home instead.

Cass’s smile doesn’t falter. “Change of plans.”

You glance past her toward the table where Dick and Damian are waiting. They’re already standing, Dick’s usual smirk plastered on his face, while Damian looks like he’s already irritated by the mere suggestion of you being in the same car as him.

“Uh..” You contemplate walking home, imagining the quiet and cool Gotham air being far more appealing than sharing a car with these three. Maybe it’s not that far to walk? Maybe you’ll survive the trip on foot? But you know better than to argue with them—not when Dick is involved.

With a resigned sigh, you nod. “Okay, I guess. I still need to get my bike though.”

Cassandra hums in approval.

The walk to the car was stifling. Dick led the way, his usual playful grin in place, but there was an intensity behind it that made your skin crawl. Damian followed closely, his silence more oppressive than any words he could’ve said. When you reached the sleek black car, one of Bruce’s more extravagant vehicles, your hesitation grew, but there was no turning back now.

As you slip into the backseat, you find yourself next to Damian, who's already glaring out the window like you’re the most offensive thing in the car, and the leather seat that smells faintly of expensive cologne. Cass takes the passenger seat, her calm demeanor oddly comforting despite the situation, while Dick slides into the driver’s seat.

The car hums to life, and soon enough, you’re speeding through the streets of Gotham. The tension inside the vehicle is thick, almost unbearable. You stare out your window, watching the city blur by, trying your best to disappear into the seat.

“Y/N,” Dick’s voice broke the silence, far too casual for the tension in the car. “You didn’t tell us you were working at that cafe.”

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to say much. “Didn't think I needed to? Why does it matter?”

Dick’s eyes flicked to you in the mirror, a glint of something dark behind his seemingly easy going demeanor. “It seems as though there's a lot of things you haven't told us (Y/n), hmm?”

He just completely ignored your question, and like an idiot, you dignify his question with your own response.

“I don't know why you in particular care, considering you haven't bothered to in the past four years.” You remark, crossing your arms.

Dicks smile only widened as he cooed at your response. “Oh I don't care (Y/n), but you can't just do whatever you want, right? Your last name’s still Wayne last time I checked, do you know what that means?”

His eyes flicker to you, staring at you through the rear view mirror. You just shrug nervously, you had no idea where he was going with this.

“It means you’re not allowed to just fuck off and do whatever you want. What happens when you’re working and a rouge or random criminal recognizes you? It’ll be our job to drag you back.” He says smiling all the while. Dick doesn't really curse, not like this anyways, and it's starting to scare you.

There was something sinister beneath his seemingly friendly demeanor. The way he was talking about you, it made you feel more like a possession than a person. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, eyes flicking to Damian and Cassandra. None of them seemed to be fazed by Dick's words. It was like they all understood something you didn't.

"Look," you muttered, "I just needed the job, okay? I didn’t think it was a big deal."

He just nods, “Which is why you'll be putting in your two week’s notice.”

Hold the phone.

“I'm sorry what?”

“I'm sure I spoke clearly, didn't i?”

“I'm–I'm not quitting my job.”

“Yes you are. In fact, you're going to call your boss and let them know right now.”

“You’re fucking crazy if you thin–”

“I'm not asking (Y/n).” He says, a certain edge to his voice. “Call your boss.”

You’re scared. You don't know why he’s doing this. Shaking, you pull out your phone, staring at the screen as if it could somehow save you from this situation. You know they won’t let you get out of this. Not with the way Dick’s smile is hovering on the edge of something dangerous, not with Damian’s silent approval and Cassandra’s eerie calm. The power dynamic is suffocating—this isn’t a request; it’s an order.

“Call,” Dick says again, his voice now a warning.

You swallow hard, your fingers trembling as you scroll to your boss’s number. You want to refuse, you want to stand your ground, but the fear of what would happen if you did keeps your rebellion at bay. You press the call button, and the phone rings in your ear.

“Hello?” your boss answers, their voice friendly and unsuspecting.

“Hey Daniel, it’s Y/N,” you say, your voice shaking. “I—I’m sorry, but I have to put in my two weeks’ notice. I—uh, I can’t work here anymore.”

There’s a pause on the other end. “What? Y/N, is everything okay?”

No. “Yeah, it’s fine,” you lie. “I just… something came up, and I can’t keep the job.”

Your boss hesitates, clearly concerned. “Are you sure? If this is about needing time off, we can work something out—”

“No, I’m sure,” you cut them off, glancing at the rearview mirror, where Dick’s eyes are still watching you with that unsettling intensity. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

You hang up before they can ask more questions. There’s a sick feeling in your stomach, like you’ve just lost something.

Dick hums in approval. “Good. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You don’t respond. You’re too numb, too angry to even find the words to fight back. The rest of the car ride is silent. When you finally arrive back at the manor, you slip out of the car without a word, making a beeline for your room. You can hear them behind you, talking quietly amongst themselves, but you don’t care. You just need to be alone.

The worst part was, you didn't even get to go back for your bike. Gotham wasn't exactly known for its secure parking spaces, especially for a bike left unattended for hours. By now, it was probably stolen or stripped for parts. Another loss to add to the growing list.

You collapsed onto your bed after a long, hot shower, letting the steam wash away the dried coffee and lingering bitterness of the day. The frustration and humiliation clung to you, but you tried to push it all aside as you buried yourself in mundane distractions. Homework? Done, though half-heartedly. Your phone? A welcome relief, a way to escape the reality of what your life had become.

The phone call with your friends was a lifeline. You started by relaying the bizarre events of your day—Dick showing up at your workplace, forcing you to quit, the awful encounter with the Karen who’d thrown coffee in your face. Arya and Ethan were outraged on your behalf, their voices rising with indignation as they expressed disbelief at how ridiculous your life had become.

“What is wrong with him?” Arya had exclaimed after you explained how Dick had basically forced you to quit. “It’s like he gets off on controlling you.”

Ethan chimed in, his voice laced with sarcasm. “It’s the Wayne family, what do you expect? They think the world revolves around them.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics eventually, giving you a break from the heavy reality of your situation. Arya’s excitement over the girl she liked responding to her Instagram story was a welcome distraction. She went on a rant about how this girl was clearly the one, and you and Ethan couldn’t help but exchange amused glances over the phone. Arya’s giddiness was infectious, and soon the three of you were laughing—deep, real laughter that made you momentarily forget about everything.

But, as with all good things, the fun came to an end with a knock at your door. You sighed heavily, already knowing what was coming.

"Master (Y/n), it’s time for dinner."

The familiar voice of Alfred carried through the door, his polite yet firm tone unmistakable. You groaned, dragging yourself off the bed with all the enthusiasm of someone heading toward their own execution. Dinner meant facing Dick, and after the day you'd had, that was the last thing you wanted to deal with.

You swung open the door, forcing a smile for Alfred, though you knew he could see right through it. "Hey Alfie, how was today?"

Alfred smiled, ever the picture of calm. "All good in a day's work, Master (Y/n). Might I inquire how work today was?"

You couldn’t help but grimace at the mention of work. "It... it was alright," you said, though the weight of your words made it clear that was a lie. Alfred’s raised brow told you he wasn’t fooled.

"Well," you sighed, the reality sinking in further as you spoke, "it doesn’t matter anymore anyways. I quit today."

Alfred’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "But my dear, I thought you adored working there? Whatever did happen?"

You couldn’t hold back the bitterness in your voice as you answered, "Dick."

Alfred’s eyes softened with understanding, and the sympathy in his gaze was almost too much to bear. "Ah, I see. I’m sorry you’ve had to do so," he said, and you could tell he genuinely meant it.

"It’s not your fault, Alfie," you replied, feeling a pang of guilt for dragging him into your mess. "Which is why I wanted to ask if I could have dinner in my room today? I don’t think I’ll be able to stay civil with Dick sitting there."

Alfred gave you a sad smile, one that only deepened the dread in your chest. "Usually, it would be more than allowed," he began, his voice gentle, "however, today your father has requested that you attend dinner no matter what."

Your heart sank. "What?"

"Yes," Alfred said with a hint of regret in his voice. "Unfortunately, you don’t have much of a choice today, my dear."

You stared at Alfred, dumbstruck. Since when did Bruce care whether or not you were at dinner? He barely acknowledged your presence most of the time, and now suddenly it was a demand?

Alfred gave you one last apologetic look before he turned to leave, his footsteps fading down the hall. You stood frozen in place, disbelief washing over you.

What the actual fuck is happening?

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katsu28 · 2 months ago

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rain, rain, (don't) go away

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: you put your trust in a handsome stranger in the midst of a bit of bizarre wet weather. what could go wrong? (4.6k)

warnings: minimal swearing

a/n: not quite the summer lando series i've been working on but the idea for this came to me in a dream a while ago lmao

It doesn’t often rain in Monaco. Especially not during the summer.

So when you feel a drop splash against your forehead, then another, you’re wildly unprepared. You squint up at the rapidly darkening sky like it's personally wronged you, and you’re met with another raindrop, this time in your eye.

Part of you wonders if you could try and make it home before it starts to pour. The other part knows it would be an impossible feat given your lack of a car and how far you’d have to run in such a short amount of time. Even as you ponder the thought, the occasional drops turn into a heavy drizzle.

You barely make it under the nearest awning before it really starts to come down. All around you are people scrambling to get out of the rain and somewhere dry, caught off guard by the unexpected downpour like you are.

“Crazy rain, huh?” You startle at the sound of a voice from next to you, gaze snapping to your left to see a man huddled under the same awning, most likely having come up with the same idea you did. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologizes, holding his hands up in surrender. “I take it you weren’t expecting rain when you left the house today either?”

You scoff, chuckling. “Was anybody?”

You tear your eyes away from the sky to look at him once more, and to say you’re pleasantly surprised is an understatement.

Your awning buddy is awfully attractive, and looks to be around your age too. A form-fitting black sweater stretches across broad shoulders, paired with baggy blue jeans that might not have worked for everyone, but definitely suits him well. He’s smiling at you too, a lopsided grin that has you intrigued by him. “The one time I didn't check my weather app before I headed out.”

“You actually check the weather app?” He chuckles, tilting his head.

“You don’t?”

“Can’t say that I do. Usually I just trust the vibes when I look out the window. Didn’t really work out today, though.” He holds his palm out from under the makeshift shelter, letting the rain pool in his hand before dumping it on the ground, flicking his fingers to rid them of the excess drops with a scrunched nose. “Is this your first time in Monaco?”

You shook your head, smiling softly. “I live here. You?” He bobs his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s never rained like this though, especially this time of year.”

“If it’s any consolation, I reckon it’ll stop soon. It’s usually pretty quick—”

A bolt of lightning flashes through the sky right at that moment, followed by a clap of thunder not five seconds later. If it continues on like this, you might be stuck here forever.

“Huh! Maybe not.” The man sounds amused, aiming a sympathetic smile at you. You can’t help but chuckle, and you notice it makes him perk up a bit, looking pleased with himself. “Hope you don’t have anywhere to be.”

“Honestly? I don’t. But I’d rather not be standing under this awning til the storm lets up. Could be ages, by the looks of it.”

A stream rushes its way down the street, carrying a sad swirl of leaves down the storm drain at the corner along with it. It seems everyone else has come to their senses and found somewhere warm and dry to wait out the sudden storm because when you look around, the two of you are the only ones still outside.

As if the man can sense what you’re thinking, he speaks. He’s smiling hopefully at you, head tilted invitingly. “There’s a cafe down the block that was open before it started to rain. Care to join me?”

Normally, you’d be wary about a handsome stranger inviting you to an unknown location. This seems like one of those situations you’ve been warned about, but right now you can’t find it in yourself to care. It’s about time you put yourself out there, take a chance for once. You’re pretty sure he won’t try to kidnap you.

“I’d love to.” You reply. You peer out at the dreary grey sky again, lips twisting into a grimace. “Is it just me or does it seem to be raining harder?”

“I say we make a break for it. Run like hell on three.” He says firmly. You nod and he does the same, holding out his hand. You slip your fingers through his without a second thought. “One, two, three—go, go, go!”

You both take off in a wild sprint down the sidewalk, splashing through puddles on your way. He giggles the whole time, peals of laughter bouncing off the cobbled street that sound gleeful. You’re laughing too, because who would’ve ever thought you’d be running through the rain hand in hand with a guy you’ve only just met?

He tugs you along, leading the way to your destination confidently. Well, as confident as one can while being half-blinded by a torrential downpour.

You nearly slip as you make a poor attempt at a sudden stop when he finally slows, and you probably would’ve ended up flat on your ass if he hadn’t grabbed you by your forearms, steadying you with an infectious grin that you can’t help but return.

The bell above the door rings when the two of you stumble inside, soaked to the bone even in the very short time it took to get down the road. But you know what they say, when it rains, it pours.

He shakes the rainwater from his hair not unlike a dog would shake out its fur, and in the process splatters you with the droplets. Normally you wouldn’t be too happy about it, but you’re already drenched and he’s very cute, so you don’t mind.

The place is pretty much empty when you look around, save for a handful of other patrons doing their own things. It’s cute though—cozy and warm, the smell of coffee beans and something sweet floating through the air. You never noticed it before, but it’s exactly the kind of cafe that you love.

The man seems to notice that you’re still holding hands, because his cheeks turn pink and he drops it, smiling rather bashfully.

“Sorry. I’m Lando, by the way.” He introduces himself softly, rubbing the back of his neck. You tell him your name and he repeats it, testing it out on his tongue. You’re not ashamed to admit you like the way it sounds when he’s the one saying it. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

“I’m gonna go order something so they don’t think we’re loitering. Preferably something hot, because I’ve got water in places water definitely shouldn’t be.” He shudders, pulling his soggy sweater away from his torso as proof. “Do you want anything?”

You ponder for a moment before responding. “A latte sounds amazing right now. I’ll pay you back, of course.”

Lando shakes his head, backpedaling towards the counter. “My treat. You just sit there and look pretty.” You roll your eyes playfully at him, but smile nonetheless. “Oh look, you’re doing great already!”

That makes your cheeks grow hot. You’ve just met Lando and he’s flirting with you, and you don't mind at all. In fact, you have half a mind to flirt back.

He finds you at a table soon after, balancing two cups and a concerningly large paper bag. You pop to your feet, carefully grabbing the bag to ease the load, and peer into it. There’s at least five different pastries inside, all of them looking absolutely mouthwatering.

“I hope you’re hungry. Got convinced to buy a few things by the lovely old lady at the counter.” Lando says sheepishly, sliding into the seat opposite you. “Very persuasive, she is.”

You shrug. “I could eat.”

You’re not sure how long you sit there, chatting with each other like you're the only two in the world. It’s surprisingly easy to talk to him too. He’s funny and quick-witted and he talks very animatedly with his hands, you notice. You find it cute.

Lando tells you about himself, asks about you and your life story, and you find yourself settling in nicely with his friendly nature. This isn’t a date by any means, but he makes it feel like one by the way he truly pays attention to you and what you're saying, nodding along closely with rapt attention. As far as listeners go, he's a fantastic one.

You’ve also learned a lot about him. He was born and raised in the UK, but moved here a few years ago for work. What exactly did for work, he wasn’t too forthcoming with, but you don’t pay it any mind. You’ve just met, after all. You’re not expecting him to tell you his whole life story.

But it also doesn’t feel like you’ve just met. You aren’t sure why, but Lando has this way of making you feel like you’ve known each other for ages, of making you feel comfortable and at ease with every word out of his mouth.

Your clothes and hair have just started to dry out a bit, and you’re having a great time. Such a nice time, you don’t even notice the girl approaching your table. Lando sees her before you do, and he smiles politely.

“Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you guys, but are you Lando Norris?” She asks hopefully. She looks young, maybe fifteen or sixteen. Her eyes flick to you, and you can tell she’s nervous, so you smile back. You’re confused to say the least, but you remember what you were like at her age. She reminds you a bit of yourself.

Lando nods. “I am, yeah. What’s your name?”

“Valeria. But everyone here just calls me Val. I’m the owner’s granddaughter, so I work here all the time.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Val.”

She looks positively starstruck now, hands trembling as she holds up her phone. “Would you mind if I got a photo with you? You can totally say no if I’m interrupting something, I—”

“You’re alright, love, don’t worry.” Lando stands, moving into selfie position next to her. The poor girl’s arm shakes so much you’re positive the photo won’t turn out clear at all, so you slide out of your seat too.

“Here, let me.” You take the phone gently, motioning the two of them to scoot closer to get them in frame with each other.

Val looks a combination of relieved and grateful, while Lando gives off nothing but a cool, albeit reserved, confidence. The same kind of confidence a celebrity might have when approached by a fan of theirs. But certainly Lando couldn’t be famous…right?

You shake away the idea, snapping a handful of photos before passing it back to her, figuring there can never be too many to choose from. She beams bright, hugging him quickly, then to your surprise, gives you a hug as well.

“Thank you so much! I’ll get out of your hair now. Enjoy your food!” With that, she hurries away with a bounce in her step, disappearing into the kitchen.

You turn to Lando with arched brows. “That was interesting.”

“So interesting.” He echoes, but his tone makes it sound like he doesn’t quite agree.

“What are you, famous or something?” You mean it as a light jest, but Lando looks guilty for some reason. He beckons for you to take your seat again, sliding back into his own before offering you a sheepish smile.

“Um, there might be something I haven’t told you yet.”

“Shit, are you actually famous?”

“...Yeah, kinda.” You arch a curious brow, and he sighs, but not in exasperation. “I’m a Formula One racing driver. For McLaren.”

Formula One…racing…it all sounds slightly familiar, but you can’t quite place it. Then it dawns on you.

Lando isn’t just a local celebrity—he’s literally world famous.

You’ve heard your friends talk about the races before, a few of your relatives who keep up with the sport, but you’d never paid it any mind. It just wasn’t something you could see yourself being interested in. That really famous race that takes place here in the streets every year that makes traffic an absolute fucking nightmare the whole week, Lando drives in that race, and countless others around the world, if you recall your limited knowledge correctly.

He’s…cool. And he’s sitting right here with you in a tiny cafe, and you had no idea who he was.

“Oh my god, you must think I live under a rock or something! This is so embarrassing, I—”

“No, no! I’m not—I don’t go around expecting everyone to know who I am, I swear. It’s just that most people usually do recognize me, and it saves me the whole ‘having to tell them I’m famous’ thing, which always just makes things really awkward, and…yeah.”

“Things don’t have to be awkward.”

“No?”

“No. We don’t even have to talk about it.”

“We don’t?” He sounds a tad wary, but when you nod, the tension in his posture melts away. Relief floods his features at once. “Thank you. It’s actually quite nice to meet someone who has no idea what I do. Makes me feel normal for once.”

“Glad my lack of sports knowledge makes you feel like a regular guy,” You joke, nudging his foot with yours under the table. He gives you a light kick in return, infectious smile back in full bloom once again. You quite like it when he smiles.

You’ve just moved on to a new topic that has nothing to do with Lando’s job when his phone buzzes, making him jolt in surprise. He digs it out of his pocket, and when he sees the name flash across the screen, his eyes go wide.

“Sorry, hang on. I’ve gotta get this.” He says, hitting the answer button. It’s a quick phone call, and you try your best not to eavesdrop, but whoever is on the other line has Lando worked up when he hangs up.

“Everything okay?” You ask lightly. Lando bobs his head quickly.

“Yeah, it’s—I, uh, I’ve gotta go. I forgot about a work event, apparently. That was my press officer, wondering where the hell I am and how fast I can get there.” He sounds disappointed, smiling almost sadly. “So much for feeling normal.”

You try your best not to let your face fall when you nod. “I should get going too. Get home before the next freak summer rainstorm.”

It’s nice when you step outside. You tilt your face up towards the sky, feeling the sun warm your face. This is the Monaco you know and love. Though if it hadn’t rained, you would’ve never met Lando.

He turns to face you, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Thanks for the nice afternoon. I had a good time.”

“Me too.”

“Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“Maybe you will.”

“I certainly hope so.” He says softly. You shift slightly on the balls of your feet, suddenly feeling awkward. You’re not sure how to leave things with him, and it looks like he feels the same by the way he mirrors your actions. “Um, I really should leave, so…goodbye, I guess?” The look on his face tells you that leaving is the last thing he wants to do, but he has to.

“Bye, Lando.”

“Bye.” He echoes, one more time before turning away from you to head down the street.

You can only bring yourself to wait a few seconds before you call his name again. He turns around instantly despite his hurry, meeting your gaze. You want to say something to him that’ll make him remember you, because chances are you’ll never cross paths again. If you were brave enough, maybe you'd even ask him for his number. But you’re not, so you don’t. Instead, you just smile at him.

“Thanks for the latte.”

If he’s disappointed, he hides it well. He smiles back at you, warm and bright like the sun beginning to peek out from behind the clouds. “Of course.”

You watch him walk away, fighting that pesky little feeling in your gut telling you that you’re making a mistake by letting him go. It’ll go away soon, and you’ll go on with your life like you’re meant to.

-------

You find yourself going back to the same cafe often, whenever you're out and want a little treat before you go home. The pastries are always still as delicious as the first time you had them, and you’ve become well acquainted with the staff as the time goes on.

Oh, and that feeling you had when you let Lando leave without a word?

It never went away. It’s still here, worming its way into your thoughts every chance it can get.

You’re a little embarrassed to admit that every time you walk into the cafe, you hope you’ll see Lando. It’s wishful thinking more than anything, hoping he’ll be there when you go. He’s probably busy doing his thing anywhere but here, busy racing around in the world to the tune of thousands of screaming fans. You’re not sure if he even remembers you, or the afternoon you’d spent together.

Why would he? In the world of Lando Norris, world famous Formula One driver, you’re probably just a speck of dirt in his rearview mirror.

The thought gets pushed to the back of your mind as you step up to the counter to order. Val beams at you from behind the register.

“Hey, Val,” You greet the young girl warmly, returning her smile. You’ve become quite fond of her and her youthful energy, and she always brightens your day. “How’s business going?”

“Oh you know, same old.” Val waves an absentminded hand in the air as she keys in your usual order with the other. Her smile turns mischievous at the same time, like she knows something you don’t, and you narrow your eyes at her, already knowing what she's going to ask. “Have you heard from Lando?”

“No, I haven’t. How’s summer school going?”

She makes a funky face at you, rolling her eyes. “Boring. Way to change the subject though.” Before she can press any more about Lando, someone calls her name from the kitchen. “Ugh, I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfy, wait for your order, you know the drill!”

You chuckle to yourself, heading straight for your usual table by the window to wait for your name to be called.

You like to sit while you enjoy your food and drink, watching the people and cars go by outside. The streets of Monaco are always busy and bustling, but being in here feels like a pocket of peace.

“Is this seat taken?”

Your brow crinkles at the sudden voice, because you know for a fact there are at least four or five other empty tables available other than the one you’re currently sitting at, but this person chose to to ask you.

Pocket of peace…disrupted.

You let out a short sigh through your nose, turning your head from the window to politely tell them to find another seat, preferably at a table that isn’t yours, and that’s when you see him.

Lando is grinning at you when you look over, lopsided and endearing just like the first time you met him.

“Oh fuck!” You can’t help the expletive that falls from your mouth at the sight of him, even though there’s a thousand other things you’d told yourself you’d say to Lando if you ever saw him again. He’s got his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants, and he’s rocking on the balls of his feet slightly like he’s nervous as he waits for you to do something other than curse at him. “Lando! I—you—hi.”

“Hi,” He echoes, shoulders creeping up towards his ears. All you can do is stare at him, wide eyed in disbelief. “Mind if I sit?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, yes, you can sit.” You fumble over your words like you’re not used to speaking, feeling your cheeks flame embarrassingly hot. Lando just chuckles, sliding into the chair across from you. “Um, so how’ve you been?”

He rubs at the back of his neck, bobbing his head. “Good! Bit busy. We had a triple header the last three weeks, so it’s just nice to be home again.”

“Oh, I bet. I don’t think I’d be very good company if I couldn’t sleep in my own bed for three straight weeks.”

“That’s fair. Though to be honest, I’ve gotten scarily good at falling asleep anywhere. If it’s a flat surface, I can nap.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned.”

“Impressed would be mint. Otherwise I just sound like a dumbass.”

You laugh at that, and in this moment, you realize just how much you’ve missed Lando. No matter how many times you’ve tried to convince yourself to forget about him, to convince yourself that there was no point in pining after someone you’d only spent a few hours with, it all came back to this. You missed him because you like him.

“I need to tell you something.” He blurts suddenly, bracing his elbows on the table.

You nod, expression turning thoughtful. Whatever thoughts you’re having about liking Lando can wait. “Sure, go ahead.”

“This is gonna sound unbelievably weird and maybe even a little bit creepy, but I need to get it off my chest or else I think I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Lando looked nervous. The bouncing of his leg you can feel under the table and the way he plays with his fingers supports your theory.

You cock your head at him, reaching across the surface to steady his fidgeting with a hand over both of his. His gaze snaps down to your touching hands, and you can see him visibly gulp.

“What’s going on? Are you okay, is something wrong?”

He shakes his head quickly. “No, nothing’s wrong. Everything is…the opposite, really. Everything is right. Meeting you, finding my way back to you—here of all places. I don’t believe in fate or anything like that, but this sure feels like something along those lines.”

“Lando, I—”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that afternoon. I tried everything. Nothing worked. I couldn’t get you out of my head.” He confesses. His fingers curl around yours gently, thumb stroking over the ridges of your knuckles. “If I’m being completely with myself, I think it’s because I didn’t want to get you out of my head. And I just got off the plane an hour ago, but instead of going home and passing out like I usually do, I came here, hoping that somehow, you’d be here too.”

“Can I say something now?” You ask lightly, stifling a giggle.

His cheeks flush an embarrassed pink, and he motions for you to go ahead. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. I talk too much when I get nervous. I’m working on it, I—fuck, sorry again. You go. I’ll shut up.”

“I still think it’s cute.”

“Is that the only thing about me you still think is cute, or…?”

That gets another laugh out of you. You chuckle, giving his hand a squeeze. “Not at all. I still think all of you is cute, and…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either. We haven’t known each other long, but I really like you, Lando.”

“I could kiss you right now.”

“What’s stopping you?”

You don’t have time to second guess your newfound confidence before he’s leaning across the table, sliding a large hand over your jaw and pressing his lips against yours. Lando kisses you softly—gentle, like he’s worried you’ll pull away if he’s too forward with it.

You’re fully aware that you’re smiling like a madman against his lips, but in your defense, he is too. His eyes open slowly when you pull away, almost tentatively as if he’s not quite sure what just happened actually happened.

He leans back just enough to study you, letting his gaze flit around your face, taking in every detail he possibly can. All while he grins larger than Cheshire cat, like he’s a kid whose parents just told them they could get whatever they wanted at the candy shop, instead of kissing you for the first time.

“I was gonna be nice and bring you your order, but it looks like you’ve already got something sweet.” Val’s voice cuts through the moment, and when you look over at her, she looks over the moon.

“Lando, you remember Val, right?”

“Uh huh,” Lando hums, holding out his hand for a fist bump that she happily gives him. “Thanks again for the heads up.”

“Hold on, what? What heads up?”

The two of them share a look, like they’re debating whether or not to tell you their secret. Then Lando sighs, giving her a go ahead nod, and she squeals, setting your food down.

“Okay, so you know how you come in here all the time after work? Well me, being the keenly observant, brilliant young mind I am, noticed a pattern. You come on the same days, at the same time, and you never stray.” She explains excitedly, all but bouncing on the balls of her feet. You aim a questioning glance over at Lando, who just gives another amused nod.

Val continues excitedly, “So I’m expecting you today, right? But then the door opens and guess who walks in? Lando! He asks me if you’ve ever come back here after that one day and I’m like oh my god, you have no idea! So I tell him to wait a half hour for you, and now you’re both here and my matchmaking skills can be put to rest.”

“Are you being serious right now? Really, I can’t tell.”

She tilts her head, popping a hand on her hip. For the same girl who’d been so nervous to meet Lando just weeks ago, she’s got a surprising amount of sass in his presence today. “Why would I not be serious? I’m basically a genius, and I expect to be invited to the wedding. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Alright, that’s enough, cheers, Val!” Lando blurts, shooting her a pointed look.

“Can I get paddock passes for making this whole thing happen? Preferably Monaco but I could probably make it to Monza too. Imola is a little far.”

Lando blinks at her for a few moments, probably seeing if she actually means it. When all she does is raise her eyebrows, he concedes. “Maybe. I’ll make some calls, see what I can do.”

“Fantastic. Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone!”

You both watch as she all but skips happily off, then turn back to each other.

“She’s…definitely something,” You sigh, shaking your head. Secretly, you owe her everything.

“Eh, I dunno. Kid’s growing on me.” He reaches across the table, lacing his fingers through yours with a fond twinkle in those pretty eyes of his.

“How serious are you about those paddock passes?”

“I mean…she did help me out massively. I’d have missed you if it weren’t for her.” Lando shrugs, rubbing an absentminded thumb over yours. “I hope you know I would’ve come back until I found you again. Everyday, if I had to.”

“Me too.”

If you’d told your past self that a bizarre summer rainstorm in sunny Monaco would’ve led you to where you are right now, you wouldn’t have believed it. But now, as you sit here with Lando, smiling at each other like complete and total idiots, you’ve never been more grateful for a bit of unexpected rain.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x fem!reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot

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lovelookspretty · 1 month ago

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waking up to you

au!rafe cameron x reader

— in which you wake up in a strange alternate reality that just so happens to be the outer banks universe, and to your disbelief, you’re suddenly in a relationship with the shows most unlikely character, rafe cameron.

warnings: swearing, pretty safe !! lowkey i rushed thru im sorry LMAO

authors note: okay ik im a little late with an update and its kind of shorter but i wanted to get out a part asap. im rewatching the 100 rn and ugh. anyway if u arent part of the tag list yet, feel free to let me know thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3

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you sit at the small table across from rafe, your fork hovering above your plate, but your attention keeps drifting toward the large window facing the street. you can’t help it. john b and jj were out there earlier, just hanging around.

it didn’t seem like they would come in, but you still feel uneasy. your eyes flicker to the entrance every few minutes, waiting for them to either walk in or disappear.

“stop glancin’ at the damn window, y/n, i can . . . feel your worry from here," rafe mutters, his voice low and rough, but there’s a hint of something softer there. he doesn’t even look up from his plate, just keeps cutting into his food like it’s nothing, but his words hit you harder than they should.

you blink a few times, then drop your gaze to your plate, the food suddenly less appetizing. it’s not like you can explain it to him—that you’re afraid of seeing john b or jj or that they might somehow sense that you’re not the same y/n they used to know. you’re not sure they’d even care, but the thought of facing them right now, of fumbling through some conversation, makes your stomach twist.

still, you force yourself to eat, to appear normal, though the tension buzzing between your shoulders doesn’t fade.

when you and rafe finally step out of the cafe, your eyes immediately search the street for the van. you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you see that it’s gone. maybe they left. maybe they figured it wasn’t worth it. either way, relief washes over you, but it’s fleeting. you get into the car quickly, a little too quickly, as if you’re still afraid they might show up.

rafe slides in beside you, his movements slower, more casual, and turns the key in the ignition. the engine roars to life, but the radio stays off, just like it was earlier.

the drive home is quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the car as it rolls down the streets. you stare out the window, trying to keep your mind from spiraling, but the silence feels suffocating. eventually, you speak, your voice hesitant, unsure, “remind me why ward and rose hate me again?”

you regret the question the moment it leaves your mouth. you should know why. y/n would know exactly what’s going on between her and rafe’s parents. but you’re not her, and you need answers.

you hold your breath, waiting for his response, and in your peripheral, you see him furrow his brows, his hand on your thigh loosening like he’s pulling back, even just a little.

for a second, you think you’ve blown it, that he’s going to catch on, but then he speaks.

“they don’t hate you,” he says, his tone sharper than before. “they just . . . my dad thinks you’re in it for the money, remember? the cameron wealth. he just doesn’t trust you. and you know how rose is. she just agrees with him as long as she gets her allowance from ward cameron.” there’s a bitterness in his voice when he says his father’s name, like it’s coated in something darker. “seems a bit fucking hypocritical if you ask me.”

in it for the money? the words bounce around your head, disorienting you. you weren’t expecting that. your eyes drop to the dashboard, and you try to wrap your mind around what he’s saying, but it feels wrong. that’s what they think about her. not you. it’s hard to remind yourself of that, to separate yourself from the y/n everyone else knows.

at least, that’s what you think this is. that there was a version of you living in this world, the right version. but something must’ve been two nights ago and there was just . . . you don’t know. you can’t accept that this life is yours. you’ve never lived it.

you hesitate, then whisper, “do you . . . agree with them?”

the question hangs in the air between you, and for a second, you think he’s not going to answer. but then the car comes to a sudden stop as he pulls up in front of the house, slamming on the brakes harder than necessary. he turns toward you, eyes sharp, focused. there’s a pause, a heavy silence.

“no,” he says, shaking his head slowly. “i don’t. you know that.”

you look at him, trying to read his expression, trying to understand why he’s so sure. there’s something there in his eyes, something unspoken that makes your chest tighten. but you don’t push. instead, you just nod, swallowing the lump in your throat.

you step into the house and the door clicks shut behind you. the echo of your footsteps fades as you make your way upstairs, shoes dangling from your fingers by their backs.

when you reach rafe’s room, you drop the shoes in the closet with a soft thud and let yourself fall back onto the bed. the mattress bounces slightly under your weight, the cool sheets brushing against your skin as you settle in. you fish your phone out of your back pocket, unlocking it with a quick swipe.

a few notifications pop up on the screen—most of them unimportant, just the usual, but two names catch your eye. one from your mother, another two from jj.

your thumb hovers over jj’s messages first, curiosity or maybe just habit pushing you to open them: ‘ hey how u been? ’ followed by another message, ‘ saw u at driftwood lol ’

you grimace. please stop talking to me, you think, and you almost consider typing that out for him, but you just swipe the conversation away. it feels wrong, ignoring him, but it’s safer this way. at least for now.

you tap on your mom’s message, her name flashing up on the screen. it’s a simple ‘ hello? ’ sent after a previous message asking if you wanted to video call tonight. guilt tugs at you for not answering sooner, but you quickly type a response: ‘ i’ll be there ’

you drop the phone onto your chest and close your eyes, the tension slowly leaving your body.

rafe comes into the room just a minute after, dragging his feet as he enters, and flops down on the bed beside you with a heavy sigh. he’s on his back, his arms thrown up to rub his eyes. the weight of the day is already too much, you can tell.

you roll onto your side to face him, watching the rise and fall of his chest for a second. he looks tired—more than tired—and for some reason, you feel this sudden pull to comfort him. maybe it’s because you’re realizing that you’re stuck here for longer than you ever imagined, or maybe it’s because, despite everything, there’s something grounding about feeling him next to you. something real.

you slide your hand over his stomach, feeling the firm muscle under his t-shirt, and trail your fingers up to his neck. his skin is warm, smooth.

he smells like fresh ocean air mixed with something expensive—sandalwood, maybe, and a hint of cedar. it’s clean, masculine, and comforting in its own strange way. your hand rests against the side of his face, and you lean in, pressing your cheek lightly to his shoulder, inhaling deeply as if trying to memorize it. the scent of him feels like an anchor to this new world, even if you don’t fully belong in it.

rafe’s eyes flutter shut, his face softening under your touch, and after a quiet moment, he murmurs, "i love you."

the words catch you off guard. you blink, your heart skipping for a second as reality slams into you. you don’t really know him—at least not this version of him. not like that. and yet, you have to play the part, don’t you?

“i love you,” you mumble back, the words feeling foreign on your tongue, like they don’t belong to you. but even as they leave your lips, your mind is already spinning, thoughts racing faster than you can keep up.

a million things zip through your head at once—what if this is it? what if you never find a way home? what if you’re stuck here forever, living this life that doesn’t belong to you, loving a man who isn’t really yours?

it’s terrifying—the possibility that you might grow attached to this place, that you might actually start to like it. and then what? if you ever do go home, what happens? will you feel crushed by the weight of leaving it all behind? will you go insane, trying to navigate two lives, two versions of reality?

maybe you have nothing to worry about. maybe everything will work itself out.

but maybe you have everything to worry about.

you sit up slowly from the bed, careful not to disturb rafe as he drifts deeper into sleep. you slip away from him quietly, your feet making no sound as you pad across the room to his desk. sitting down, you lean forward, resting your elbows on the cool surface, and run your fingers through your hair. you’re tired—bone-tired—but sleep feels far away, unreachable. you need something, anything, to distract you.

your eyes open lazily, glancing at the surface of the desk. it's clean, organized, too neat, really, for someone like rafe. there’s not much on it aside from a few pieces of mail. you sift through them halfheartedly—most of it is boring stuff, some bank letters, a couple of magazines.

some are even addressed to you. they’re opened already, though, and there’s nothing of importance. not that you expected there to be.

pushing yourself up from the desk, you wander around the room. it’s yours too, right? or at least it feels that way, with how much space you apparently take up.

your fingers trail along the dresser, the faint creaking of the drawer breaking the silence as you pull it open. inside, neatly folded, are your clothes—well, her clothes. the y/n from this universe. it feels strange, surreal, knowing this other version of you needed extra room for her things. maybe she had more stuff and she just wanted more space.

your mind drifts back to what rafe said earlier. that ward and rose didn’t like you. didn’t trust you. they thought you were just after their money, like some kind of gold digger. you snort at the thought—it’s ironic, really. considering how ward and rafe were obsessed with finding literal treasure in the show. maybe everyone in this family, including her, were a little too focused on gold.

closing the drawer, you step toward the closet, opening it just as carefully. it’s split down the middle, half filled with rafe’s clothes, the other half with yours. the dresser must’ve just been for overflow.

you shake your head, closing it softly and moving back toward the bed, your gaze trailing toward your phone. it's sitting on the bed next to rafe, tempting you, but the thought of waking him just to grab it doesn’t feel worth it.

you sit down on the floor instead, crossing your legs and staring blankly at the room around you. bored. that’s all you are—bored and stuck.

your choices are limited. you can’t go downstairs and risk running into ward or rose, can’t hang out with anyone yet, and leaving for a drive without telling rafe seems . . . wrong. maybe this universe’s y/n felt the same way. maybe she felt isolated here, bored out of her mind. maybe she lost it at some point. maybe—

god, stop, you think to yourself, shaking your head.

you stare at the floor for a while, trying to focus on the wood grain beneath your fingers, but your gaze eventually drifts to something under the bed. boxes, mostly, a couple of old board games, but something else catches your attention. something wedged between two boxes.

curious, you lean down and reach for it, your fingers brushing against the cover of what looks like a journal. you pull it out, wiping a thin layer of dust from the top as you grimace. “gross,” you mutter under your breath. guess rafe doesn’t clean under the bed often.

lying down on your stomach, you run your hand along the outside of the journal. it’s worn but intact, the pages thick and sturdy under your fingertips. you never took rafe as the journaling type—he doesn’t seem like someone who would sit down and pour his thoughts onto paper. but here it is, in your hands. something personal. something that might give you a glimpse into his mind, this world, this version of him.

you hesitate for a moment, staring at the journal as your thumb traces the edge of it.

you open it, flipping past the first few pages with a lazy flick of your fingers. the familiar scent of old paper wafts up, and you wrinkle your nose at it. laying your head on your fist, you hold the journal open with one hand, skimming the neat, familiar handwriting.

it’s strange seeing rafe’s thoughts laid out like this—stranger still because you never imagined him as someone who would keep a journal at all.

but he does. and he’s detailed.

each page is filled top to bottom, crammed with his thoughts, feelings, and observations. day after day, entry after entry. it’s more than you expected, almost overwhelming in its depth. he didn’t just write about major events or things that stood out—no, he captured everything. the small details. the mundane moments. he seemed obsessed with recording every second of his life.

as you glance at the dates, your brows furrow. the entries are more recent than you thought they’d be. flipping back to the beginning of the journal, you see that it starts in early may. a sharp contrast to what you remember from your own life—your real life—where you had left in the middle of september. it’s jarring. maybe time works differently here.

and then, something else catches your attention: the handwriting.

it’s familiar. too familiar. not just because it’s rafe’s, but because there’s something about the way the letters curve, the way the words flow across the page.

you sit up a little straighter, squinting as you begin to properly read through the entries. your eyes scan the first entry dated may 12.

‘ 05/12

i don’t know why i’m even bothering to write this down. everyone says journaling is supposed to help or whatever, but all i feel is frustrated. it’s like everyone around me has it together, and i’m the one constantly getting in my own way. or maybe they’re the ones in my way. i don’t know. it’s hard to tell these days.

i’m trying, though. i think? i mean, isn’t this part of trying to get better? to work through my issues instead of ignoring them? i just don’t get why it feels like such a chore. i’ve spent so long pretending everything’s fine, so maybe that’s why this whole “self-reflection” thing is pissing me off. i’m not used to it. i’m not used to being told that i need to change, when i feel like i’ve been doing fine. they’re the ones who need to stop acting like i’m the problem. i’m not perfect, sure, but who is?

whatever. maybe i’m just overthinking it. i know i need to be better, but it’s hard when people keep pushing me into a corner, expecting me to react the same way i always have. i don’t want to be that person anymore, but it’s like, what’s the point of trying to change when no one’s even going to notice? or worse—they’re gonna keep treating me like i’m the same person no matter what i do.

i don’t know. this is stupid. but maybe it’ll help if i keep writing. or maybe not. we’ll see. ’

you blink at the page, your brow furrowing in confusion. why is rafe trying to change? change from what?

you try to shake off the unease and flip through the pages, skipping a few until you reach another entry. this one’s dated august 3rd.

‘ 08/03

i swear, sometimes i feel like no matter how hard i try, people just refuse to see it. today was fucking awful. jj and i got into it again, and i don’t even know how it got so bad so fast. i’ve been trying to be better. i’ve been trying to show up, to listen, to be the kind of friend everyone says i should be. but jj? he just doesn’t get it. he always wants to bring up the past, like i haven’t already said sorry a million times. like i haven’t tried to make up for everything. what more do they want from me?*

and the worst part is, he made me feel like i’m the bad guy. like i’m still the same selfish, narcissistic person from months ago. but i’m not. or at least, i’m trying not to be. but how am i supposed to change when people like him just won’t let me? he said i’ve been a bad friend. me? a bad friend? maybe i haven’t been perfect, but who has? i’m doing the best i can, and it’s not like everyone else is a saint. but no, it’s always me who gets the blame.

honestly, i think jj just made everything worse. i was starting to feel like i was making progress, and now? i don’t know. i feel like i’m back to square one. all i wanted was to fix things, to show i’ve changed, and instead i’m just stuck here, trying to explain myself to someone who clearly doesn’t care.

whatever. i’m done trying to explain myself. if people don’t want to see that i’m trying, then that’s their problem, not mine. ’

your heart races as you read the entry. wait . . . this is familiar. the mention of jj. hold on.

you flip through a smaller chunk of pages, eager to find the last written entry, and stop on september 17.

‘ 09/17

i’ve done everything i can. i’ve changed. i know i’ve changed, but no one else seems to think so. it’s like no matter what i do, i’m still the same person in their eyes. the selfish one, the one who only cares about herself. it’s not fair. i’ve been working so hard to be better, to be different. but every time i walk into a room, it’s like they’re waiting for me to mess up again. waiting for me to be the person they’ve decided i am.

i just wish they’d give me a break. i’m not that person anymore. or at least, i’m trying not to be. it’s exhausting, having to prove myself over and over again. i thought things would be different by now. i thought people would see that i’m not the same. but all i get are those looks. like i’ve done something unforgivable. like i’m still the villain in their story, no matter how hard i’ve tried to rewrite mine.

i don’t know what else to do. i’m tired of fighting for people to see me. maybe i’ll never be enough for them. maybe they’re just waiting for me to screw up again, to prove that i haven’t changed at all. but i have. i have changed. i know it.

god, i just wish i could do something big. something to show them all at once that i’m not who i used to be. i’m better now. i just don’t know how to make them believe it. ’

your blood runs cold as you read the last line. panic surges through you, and you glance around the room as if seeking an escape. you scan the pages, your eyes racing over the words, your heart pounding against your ribcage.

you were absolutely wrong. this isn’t rafe’s journal.

this is hers.

@v2los @cosmixstar @meeuhsworld @httpsdrewstarkey @lovdrew @lilithblackkk @rovckwells @cherrylooney @iissza @namelesslosers @cocolovey @rafeyswrd @odairtrqsh @gretag13 @vivian-555 @lunaleah @smol-coffee-addict @twinge-vix @behindviolettwrites @avngrssckr @stonerroadbull @cali-888 @coquettajob @simpingcorner @nymphetkoo @pinkpantheris @ilyrafe @romaescapes @cold-soup1223 @inaluvrsworld @rafesweetie @faephoria @solo-pitstop-vibes @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @drewsephrry @sgecorrow @rafesgiirl @ravisinghs-wife @booksntings @tinyfairies @maybankslover @honeyluvsatj @darleneslane @alysaaaa444 @w4nnabeurs @watersquirtpewpewboomm @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

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fyodoro · 5 months ago

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UNEXPECTED LOVERBOY

-> in which you overhear your calm and secretive boyfriend gushing over you like there’s no tomorrow (1.1k wc)

Cw) gn!reader, manga characters (no spoilers), sakura still malfunctions when it comes to romance topics

Calling Hayato Suo an enigma would be an understatement.

Not a soul knows what lies under that eye patch. He’s calm, collected, and composed at almost all times, but it was a task of its own to grasp why. It’s impossible to catch him eating anything other than teacakes, and he often replaces his meals with a hot cup of tea. He claims to be on a diet, but every diet needs some protein incorporated into it.

Everything there is to know about Suo can be followed up with the same question: “Why?” and “What?”

However, there was an exception to his mysterious nature: You.

Of course, you didn’t know that. Hell, even Suo failed to notice his quite obvious soft spot for you until now. But as Nirei’s eye glittered with joy as he scribbled new notes onto Suo’s page in his notebook, and Sakura’s pupils shrunk with his cheeks flaunting a new shade of red, everyone knew.

Hayato Suo’s in love.

“(Name’s) a beauty, really. They may be rough around the edges at times, but I’ve never met anyone with a soul like theirs,” he babbled uncharacteristically.

He brought his teacup to his lips with closed eyes, missing the baffled expressions on everyone’s faces. But the moment he opened them, he couldn’t help but quirk a brow. “What’s with the shocked faces?”

Umemiya coughed into his hand graciously. “We’re just a little surprised, that’s all,” he began, too immersed in the conversation to notice you entering Kotoha’s cafe. “It’s not often you ramble like this.”

“I didn’t know Suo could be so open about his feelings,” Nirei exclaimed with a smile. “You must reallyyyy like (Name), huh?” he questioned, holding his pen in one hand and notebook in another as if this were an interview.

Suo’s head tilted. “Of course I do, that’s why I’m dating them.”

“You’ve been rambling on and on about (Name) for almost 10 minutes, it’s gross,” Sakura grumbled with flushed cheeks.

“But we wanna hear more! Keep going,” Nirei added.

Everyone looked at Suo attentively, including you. Somehow, the group failed to hear the bell chime when you entered the cafe. You’re clueless as to what’s going on, but it didn’t take a genius to realize it had something to do with you considering the amount of times your name was thrown around.

“My, if you insist,” Suo chuckled. “But I fear I’ve already said it all, unless I forgot to mention how cute it is when their cheeks puff up when they’re annoyed?”

Sakura held his head in his hands in fear that it’d melt off with how hot his face felt. “No, you didn’t. But we get it! You love (Name)!” he shouted.

“They’re impossible not to love,” Suo commented with his usual calm smile.

“That’s just Sakura’s romance sensor going haywire,” Kiryu teased. “Don’t mind him.”

The split-haired boy sulked in his seat, trying to dismiss the heat he felt on his face. “You’re all so…”

His voice trailed off, catching a glimpse of your frame standing behind Suo.

“Su-“

“Trust me, if you were in my shoes you’d be doing the same thing. (Name’s) one of a kind, not to mention beautiful. I can’t imagine a life without them, honestly.” The brunette went on, unbeknownst of your looming presence behind him. “Anyone can fall in love if their heart is stolen.”

“Someone like Suo being so head over heels in love… it must feel like a fairytale for (Name),” Umemiya chimed.

“Oh trust me, it does.”

Everyone’s heads turned to face you, except Sakura, who had noticed you seconds prior.

“(Name)?!”

“I didn’t know I could be such a fun subject of conversation, Hayato.” you teased, hands resting on your boyfriend’s shoulders as you leaned down to his ear.

He gulped, hiding his flustered heart through his relaxed exterior.

“We were just talking about you!” Nirei said happily. “Is it true? That Suo never lets you hold doors open, and holds them open for you? Or that he gave you his umbrella when it was pouring rain because he’d rather get soaked than risk you getting sick?” Oh! What about-“

The boy in question sat in silence, allowing Nirei to ask his heart away to confirm that this wasn’t one of his absurd lies.

You nodded at the blonde. “Yes, yes, yes, and yes. Except he technically kept the umbrella- he just held it over me so my hands wouldn’t get cold,” you corrected, recalling the awful weather of that day.

“What a romantic~” Tsubaki swooned.

“I try my best,” Suo smiled shyly.

“Suo never talks about his life! This is the most he’s ever told us, (Name)! Does he talk to you about his personal life?” Nirei inquired politely, trying not to make you feel pressured into answering.

You thought for a moment. For one, you felt honored that Suo didn’t wanna keep your relationship a secret like the rest of his life. But the blonde’s question made you realize something yourself- you really didn’t know much about your boyfriend’s personal life.

“Well… what can I say? He’s a mystery to everyone, including me.” you replied unsurely, glancing at Suo from the corner of your eye.

“Interesting…”

Nirei wrote something down in his notebook, and you didn’t bother looking. Instead, you held eye contact with Suo. He didn’t have to speak for you to know what he was thinking.

He wasn’t hiding anything from you. He just didn’t like talking about his past, and you understood.

“My love, you know more about me than anyone else in this room,” he stood after finishing the contents of his teacup. “After all, you were the one who told me to take baby steps, correct?”

You vaguely recalled those words. It was weeks ago, but he felt guilty for not telling you or anyone else about his history. In response, you told him to take as long as he needed, and baby steps were always the first steps.

“I did,” you affirmed. Your voice was soft, but it didn’t hide your intentions of making his heart pound a little harder. “But I didn’t think I'd catch you gushing over me like you’ve lost your composure~”

Suo almost broke, and you laughed.

“Woah, is Suo blushing?”

“Who could blame the guy? It’s the most open he’s been with us,” Hiragi commented with truth.

Kotoha giggled from behind the counter. “Not to mention how close (Name) is to him right now, it might be too much for the poor boy to handle.”

The red in Suo’s cheeks slowly faded, and he let out a small sigh. “I’ll see you all later, we’re gonna get going now,” he waved.

The two of you walked out hand in hand, and everyone else was left either baffled, confused, or unphased. Unless it was Sakura, who was somehow all three.

Little did you know, Nirei left a small comment on the corner of Suo’s page in his notebook.

‘Quite the loverboy.’

#wind breaker #windbreaker #windbre #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker x reader #windbre x reader #windbreaker fluff #suo hayato #suou hayato #suo x reader #suo hayato x reader #suo fluff #dor writes

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honeytonedhottie · 3 months ago

Text

how to be a whole new student this school year (A MASTERPOST)⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀📔

HOW TO BE BETTER THIS SCHOOL YEAR ;

TAKE ADVANTAGE. take advantage of extra credit opportunities, make sure to advocate for urself and take advantage in any way that u can. by simply doing ur homework you'll have a much better grade in the overall class which gives u wiggle room to make a mistake. but if ur slacking off on ur homework, ignoring extra credit opportunities AND doing bad on tests then ur basically setting urself up for failure. and by doing the opposite then ur setting urself up for success.

something i've noticed (and im guilty of this too sometimes) is that i spend so much time making my notes aesthetically pleasing that i forget to actually go over them which defeats the whole purpose of notes. theres nothing wrong with having fun and creative adorable notes that spark joy and happiness but PLEASE actually use them, trust me you'll love them more…💬🎀

furthermore understand that getting good grades isn't as daunting and difficult as u may have imagined. just remember to always do ur homework, take advantage of extra credit, projects are an easy test grade, and get things done as fast as u possibly can.

FIND WAYS TO STAY MOTIVATED ;

the best way to stay motivated is through ROMANTICIZATION. when u learn to enjoy going to school, your going to be motivated to do well in school. because school is so IMPORTANT not only for ur education but also ur future. so take school seriously. and if u wanna become an academic weapon for the long term the best thing u can do is learn to make the best of, and enjoy it. some ways to romanticize school include ->

♡ create a school playlist that embodies the school vibes that u wanna have : i have lots of new jeans in my school playlist : i rly like the songs cookie, ditto and hurt for when im at school

♡ creating a study blog or study group to hold urself accountable in a fun and healthy way

♡ ur appearance : if u go to a school where u dont have to wear uniforms, i strongly recommend getting dressed and getting ready meticulously bcuz when u look good, u feel good, and therefore u perform well. if u do wear uniform, wear accessories or hairstyles that make u feel and look pretty. i wear leg warmers with my school uniform and my signature is hair clips and barrettes.

♡ read at school : i always walk around with a book bcuz i like to read a lot but if reading isnt ur thing, listen to a podcast about something that interests u (i rly like true crime)

♡ take pride in ur notes : invest in cute stationary! i swear, sometimes i dont feel like studying but since my stationary is super cute and pink i get motivated to study just by looking at it lol. invest in quality stationary that u love and make ur notes look pleasing to you, and also effective. effective + aesthetically pleasing.

♡ doing homework/studying in the library : or at least changing the scenery and location that u do ur homework from time to time. do yk how boring it is to do work in the same place every single day? give urself a break from the places u see all the time and spend time studying or doing homework outside of ur home. in a cafe or in the library, inside or outside, just change the scenery a bit

♡ start a video diary : i started a little video diary with my friends so that we can remember our school memories. i just think its rly cute and a great way to bond with ur friends, make memories, and romanticize school.

try and formulate a PASSION for learning as a way to cultivate the school romanticization attitude. be passionate to learn and be an academic weapon…💬🎀

CHANGE UP ROUTINES ;

in my next point i talk about the importance of routines but its also important to change little things about ur routine. dont go and change the whole structure of ur school routine but make sure to add little changes to spice things up and not keep urself like a hamster on a wheel. i find when i do this i just feel a lot better and its easier to romanticize.

MAKE A REGIMEN ;

make a pretty basic routine to stick to, to make sure that u balance school and personal life. having a routine can make falling into line and following through with tasks a lot easier. its easier to do things personally when u MICROMANAGE urself. at least from my own personal experience.

ABOUT STUDYING ;

every single day study (at least for a little bit) ofc this will vary depending on ur personal schedule but the goal is to do a little bit of studying everyday, and if that isnt possible, designating 3 days a week to a thorough studying session.

the way that i divide my time with a study session is 40 minutes of work time and 20 minutes of downtime. during the 40 minutes of work time u need to LOCK IN. lock in on whatever assignment needs to be complete or lock in on whatever material it is that ur studying. ofc this'll differ between all subjects but dont study all subjects in one night!! thats ambitious, but i find it'll just burn u out so stick to studying for 2-3 subjects max.

HOW TO STUDY WITHOUT BURNING URSELF OUT ;

♡ get off ur device. literally put the phone down. 9 times out of 10 the burn out that ur feeling is just the dopamine detox and laziness

arguably, the most important aspect to prevent burn out is ENERGY management. when ur burnt out u can literally feel ur energy tank on zero, so regardless of all the study techniques, however effective they may be, if u can't even muster up the energy to do them then they're useless…💬🎀

♡ get PRODUCTIVE rest. what is productive rest? scrolling endlessly on tiktok is NOT productive rest. productive rest is actually letting ur mind and body REST. like, taking a nap, indulging in self care, or whatever relaxes u.

STAY ORGANIZED ;

find a tool and stay ORGANIZED. i personally use notion. and on my school notion i create a space for me to write my own notes, a calendar to put important academic dates, resources like passwords and logins, and a to-do list where i can put down some of my assignments. keeping everything organized is so so important. its non digital as well, make sure to keep ur desktop space organized, ur supplies and physical notes organized also. the more organized the better.

SOME POSTS FOR RESOURCES ;

how to get good grades without excessive studying - by yours truly

ways to romanticize school - @4theitgirls

studying methods + tips - by yours truly

youtube channels to help u out this semester - @4theitgirls

creating a study schedule and routine - @prettieinpink

how to study like rory gilmore - @itgirldiary

my studying plans as an accounting major - @iluvprettygirls

citation resources - @workitgurl

how to get good grades without excessive studying - by me

khanacademy.org

coursera.org

annualreviews.org

google scholar - research

google calendar - organization

notion - organization

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zhongrin · 2 years ago

Text

“you’re not going out like that.”

— you say with a pout and a glare.

or, you stop him before going out because of his clothes.

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, xiao, scaramouche, childe, diluc, pantalone

◇ tags ◇ modern!au, fluff, reader is not ‘controlling’ if that’s what you’re afraid of seeing

◇ a/n ◇ can you buy a zhongli irl off amazon or something i'm asking for a friend- /j

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli raises his eyebrows, questioning ambers seeking an explanation from you.

with a sigh, you stalk towards his side and pinch the thin material of his shirt, berating him nonstop over how the temperature has started to drop outside and how he’ll catch a cold if he doesn’t bundle up.

he lets you drag him back to the bedroom and smiles softly as you rummage through his coats and sweaters, all the while still lecturing him about the importance of his health now that you’re both getting older.

what you don’t know is that he does this purposefully so that you’ll fuss over him. call him whipped, but he adores seeing you care for him like a mother hen; he may trust your love in all its entirety, but he certainly doesn’t mind getting a reminder of it every now and then.

it’s the same reason why he leaves his tie a little crooked every morning: just so you could scold him for how he’s gotten lousy ever since you both got married. he would always chuckle and apologize, but inwardly he just can’t help it; surely all husbands want to be spoiled by their lovely spouse?

childe giggles and winks towards you before gesturing to his outfit with a flair as if he’s in a fashion show model which to be fair he kinda looks the part.

“awh, why not? don’t you want to show off how good this boyfriend of yours look?”

“you mean announce to the whole world that i’m dating a fuckboy? no thanks.”

the brunette pouts at the half-serious, half-joking expression on your face and positions his hands on his hips like a petulant child(e), “oh, i’m sorry that i’m hot and i’m unashamed of it! besides, what can they do? grope me?”

you roll your eyes and slip your hands through the wide gap by the sides of his clothes to grab onto his chest.

childe freezes like deer in headlights, but regains his composure quickly; in a blink, he gives you a playful grin, but before he can utter anything scandalous, you pull him into a kiss and uses the element of surprise to steal his breath away.

and when your boyfriend ends up sprawled under you on the couch fifteen minutes later, you don’t miss the winning smile and happy wrinkle of skin spread across his freckled cheeks.

honestly, he could’ve just told you (you know, like a normal person) if he didn’t actually want to go out, instead of always pulling stunts like this.

kunikuzushi stares at you with half his mouth open, clearly surprised and offended at your statement and the insults you blatantly threw his way right after.

what do you mean he looks like a sleazebag? sure, it’s a hoodie from yesterday(’s yesterday), but it looks fine! it smells bearable! it’s comfy! he’s too lazy to change out of it! not when it’s just a trip down to the nearby cafe!

archons, he’s just a common engineer who builds robots, not some high-strung profile in some fancy mafia organization… is what he insists, and he continues to groan and bemoans his fate even as you brought a change of clothes for him.

he might as well be a cat with how he bristles at your threat of running a bath for him, but he quietens when you double the threat with an offer to ‘scrub his poor scalp clean’.

“….. do it then,” he challenges, crossing his arms like a true brat™️, although his eyes are shining with excitement.

you two end up getting takeouts that night.

xiao pauses from putting on his watch and looks at you quizzically.

why would a dress shirt and slacks be an unacceptable fashion choice? last he checked, you were both just going to visit that favorite restaurant of yours.

the man blinks owlishly at the adorable way you stomp your feet and points to the accessories you’re wearing. he cracks a momentary smile when he recognizes them as the ones he bought for you last week; it’s just as he imagined, they look lovely on you. however, the said quirk of his lips disappears as you tell him that he’s forgotten to wear his matching ones even though he had promised to.

“ah,” he scratches his cheek, “i forgot… tsk, alright, alright, i’ll go change. this outfit won’t work with those colors, let me just-”

you end up late to your reservation and were unable to get a table, but seeing the content smile on your pretty lips when you saw the ‘date night!’ selfie you took on the fast food parking lot in his car, he thinks it’s all worth it.

your smile is always worth it.

“why not-”

“you’re a fashion disaster!”

diluc freezes and honestly if it was anyone else he would have ignored them and stormed off in embarrassment.

but this was you. you matter. your opinions matter. he doesn’t want to embarrass you.

“is… is it that bad?” he asks with a blush on his face as you throw his old coat onto the bed and unbuttons the plain shirt he always defaults to wearing.

your rich but struggling-with-fashion boyfriend watches and listens, as silent as a timid bunny, as you tell him the latest trend and the ‘boyfriend look’ or whatever it was called. he's just helplessly nodding and obeying as you hand him the change of clothes, hoping that will lessen the frown between your brows.

“is this a… bracelet?”

“it’s a choker, luc.”

“but they’re so short.”

“it’s supposed to rest around your throat, dear.”

“oh.”

he’s not sure whether he looks okay or not, but judging from adelinde’s messages bombarding his phone that night, gushing about how proud she is to ‘see that the young master has grown to be able to comprehend fashion trends’ after seeing your instagram stories, he thinks he should just ask you to pick his clothes from now own.

when you tell him he looks like he’s about to brave the cold of the mountains in dragonspine, pantalone hums and tilts his head in thought.

perhaps the coat was too much, he agrees as he discards the thick materials. but you huff and press him to remove his gloves and overcoat, and while he understands that he might have gone overboard in dressing up, given how he’s used to the biting cold of snezhnaya’s freezing climates, he can’t help but smirk at the way you’re hurriedly unbuttoning his clothes.

“my, you look quite desperate for me, sweetheart. are you sure you wish to go out tonight? if you'd like, i can always tell them to send the chef over so we can-”

he chuckles when you hit his chest playfully and lets you modify his clothing as you see fit.

well, no matter. if he gets cold he can always buy a coat outside….

... he still ends up sweating like crazy and he does not understand how you can be perfectly fine in this horrendous heat.

calm down pantalone it’s only like 34 degrees celcius.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #zhongli #zhongli x reader #childe #tartaglia #ajax #childe x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #pantalone #pantalone x reader

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neonovember · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I hope you’ve been doing okay! I saw that you had requests open and I also saw that you take requests for Carmen? If it’s totally okay of course to request for him! I got into the bear a few days ago and my brain has been filled with nothing but thoughts of Carmy. Would it be okay just requesting something that’s just Carmen being worried/concerned about the reader? He just always sees whenever there’s that tiredness to them when it looks like it’s a bad day, that slump in their shoulders that all too much reminds him of him a little sometimes, just bringing them into the office and his eyebrows are furrowed with that look of concern and his eyes the same, maybe unexpectedly just wrapping them in a hug (Your writing is so cute btw!) 💕

to carry and to bear

ask, it will be my infinite quest to fulfill! love this request so much and i loved writing is even more. i'm going to be so annoying when s2 comes out, especially since i love carmen's character so much! thank you for your request anon <3

carmen berzatto x reader

warnings: richie (yes he’s a warning), unresolved anxiety, horrible customers, fainting

word count: 5k (short for me lmao)

a/n: you know i love a character when i'm completing fics in under a day..lets pray this momentum keeps going

Wrapping yourself tight against the chilly wind of the unforgivable Chicago weather, you watch the city coming alive in the early morning as you walk down the concrete sidewalk of the Beef’s city corner.

Merchants and gazebo have begun to set up shop, their bright red vendor stands a stark contrast to the grey haze of the windy city. Corner stores and cafes have begun to uncover their blinds, dusting away the sliver of droplets that had long since evaporated after a heavy downpour the night before.

it’s slow though.

The mass of cars and yellow cabbed taxis haven’t yet filled the gravel roads, and the surging rush of traffic and uncontrollable road rage the beef windows have been accustomed to viewing hasn't filled the air.

The pinch of cold begins to itch against the cracks in your outerwear. Your trusted winter jacket and gloves had been left at the bottom of your laundry basket and instead you were forced to throw on a flimsy polyester jacket that provided absolutely no warmth.

Your fingers are stuffed into your pocket, trying to hide them from the cold but it is no use. They shake against the freezing air of wind as you push past huddles of men chain smoking and passing coolers of steaming coffee on street corners.

You’re about to go ask for a cup, despite Carmen's disgruntled comments of their huddled group festering near the restaurant. They were a pack of wolves, and whilst Sydney's sandwiches had fended them off for a while, the hole in the Beef’s window was still fresh. Like a cycle, more and more had begun to trickle in from alleyways, leading to customers steering clear from the nearby streets.

Carmen didn’t even like you walking to work this early, you get it, despite being daylight, Chicago had a way of defying social norms. You had paid some attention to the increase in robbing and attacks that had begun to frequent news reports.

It wouldn't have been a problem, walking was always voluntary for you as you had a perfectly fine working car that would drive you to and from your destination with as little as a rumble from its engine. And yet, that seemingly perfect car decided to break down on you this morning, leading to an overheated engine and a smoke filled hood.

So not only did you have to pay for a towing truck to drag away your car to an auto shop you couldn't afford to afford, but you were late. And you hated being late.

Not to mention your sister had called you late last night, asking to stay for a couple nights after her good for nothing boy-friend you would rather call a child had kicked her out after a fight.

She had rambled for nothing short of 2 hours after you had gotten home from the Beef late last night, and the pull of sleep had begun to weigh on you. The exhaustion and deprivation had written itself in the slug of your limbs and the slump of your shoulders.

You had to come in today, there were no rest days even if the Beef wasn't neck deep in debt and Cicero didn't have you all on a leash. Especially if you wouldn't allow yourself one. You had that in common with Carmen, you frequently ignored your own needs for your craft, the same insatiable passion and need for perfection driving you to exhaustion.

The familiar chime of the Beefs wooden doors hit your ears, and you shake off the cold of the city streets, the Beef is warm and you're grateful, sighing as the heat of prepped ovens and oiled pans defrosts your face.

It takes a second before you walk into the busy kitchen when the sound finally reaches you. The screeching sound of Richie's voice bickers with Tina about the next door convenient store being turned into a “pretentious hipster coffee shop that is legally selling dog water to unassuming Chicagoans”.

Dragging on and on about the invasion of gentrification that will soon take out all the good businesses that had been around since his grandfather had come from Sicily. Richie was not from Siciliy. In which Carmen mirrors your thoughts and yells that he is not Italian, and his obsession with the European country has been bordering on creepy.

Ebra is reciting an article about a culinary student that had gone rogue and murdered their entire class, giving pointers on how he himself had to patch up an entire unit of people stabbed by a bent corkscrew. The loud conversations and untethered yelling across the kitchen combines with the malfunctioning arcade that has begun to re-circuit the same sentence for 20 minutes now, digs a deep burrow into your temple.

You stand at the entrance of the kitchen, watching the commotion of early morning prep with a tight grimace, your head begins to vibrate a little, the start of a headache you won’t be relieved from spreading and you have to swallow down the exhaustion that begins to seep in at the sight.

Sydney brushes past you, greeting you with a hello and one of her charming smiles before muttering about throwing that arcade machine out the back. You giggle and it hurts, but you do it anyway because, fuck, you would help her.

You step into the kitchen, and the crew each turn to greet you good morning as you walk past them into the locker bay stuffing your bag and shoes into the cabinet before quickly changing.

Your phone reads 7am and you stuff it into the pocket of your hung jacket before slamming the locker shut. Carmen peeks his head around the corner, nodding at you as you put on your non-slip shoes, calling your name when you don't notice, you flinch before peering up and Carmen waves trying to get your attention.

“Mornin’ chef, didn’t think you were coming in” Carmen remarks, raising his eyebrows as he leans his shoulder against the wall.

“Morning, yeah, sorry about that, uh- shit happened and I had to deal with it all at once. Won;t happen again” You reply, biting back a yawn, before letting your feet fall to the ground.

“It’s all good,” Carmen replies, nodding, wiping his hand on the white towel hanging on his shoulder that was already smudged with stains.

“Just shoot me a text or call next time, yeah?” Carmen replies

“Will do chef” You reply, smiling, before peering out to see Sydney carrying a basket of ingredients

“New recipe?” You ask, nodding towards Sydney, and Carmen nods, running a hand through his curls as he leans forward.

“Well call it trying something. Not yet finished, just needs some minor tweaks here and there” Carmen replies

“I can help Sydney out if you want?” You reply without a second thought.

You already had prep and a marinade you had to make for Cicero’s function he had conveniently told Carmen about the night before, but helping out was second nature to you, it was a part of this family's culture.

Carmen shakes his head, his eyes falling to your slumped shoulder, and the slow but tight blinks you tended to do when you were exhausted.

The second he had peered his head around the corner and saw the slug of your limbs he knew something was up, but he also knew he couldn't force you to relax, you were worse than him, always taking on so much, filling up your cup until it was overflowing.

“No, no, it’s alright, besides, that marinade isn’t going to be easy, I should be asking if you want me to help out” Carmen replies, chuckling, scratching his neck as you curve your mouth into that smile he loves so much. You could be half-dead and he still stares at you like you were the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen.

“I think I’ve got it handled. I remember having to make something similar back at Le Bleu, you just got to get the temperature right or the entire thing gets spoiled. Having more than one person just makes it more confusing. besides, don't you have that meeting with the vendor today?” You reply, and Carmen sighs, nodding

“Yep, hopefully this place looks stable enough to get him to sign, you know I can’t deal with corporate bullshit. Sydney should’ve met up with them, fuck any one other than me” Carmen replies, shaking his head as he fidgets with the hem of his apron.

Despite his numerous accolades, and world renowned talent, he only ever felt at nature in the kitchen. High function parties and elusive dinner bars were things he despised, feeling out of place despite it being thrown in his name.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself, you're the face of this place Carmen, you’ve transformed it, you oughta show them the Beef is the best investment they’ll make. Hell you’re the best investment they can make” You reply, and Carmen ears perk at your reply, smiling fondly at your comment. He didn't deserve your praise, and he hated the way the sound of your lips curving around his name shoots through him.

“Are y'all going to get to work or continue eye fucking?” Richie calls, as he passes by the locker bay, and Carmen immediately shakes his head muttering a fuck you before nodding to you, and heading back to his station. You get up from your seated position on the bench, dusting and ironing out the creases in your apron before mentally going over the things you had to complete before opening.

Prep vegetables, then start the veal stock for Cicero's marinade. You had to complete it early, since it had to be chilled for at least 5 hours, any less and the fat would congeal and turn into a complete mess you didn’t have time to fix.

You walk towards your station, stepping over sauce that had spilled onto the tile floors, this crew was amazing in their craft, but god were they messy. You bump shoulders with Sydney as you begin to grate and cut root vegetables and herbs, you have to force your eyes open, blinking several times before dipping your hand into an ice water bucket and wiping your face with it.

Sydney converses with you, and it wasn't that she was boring, in fact you both frequently spend time even out of the restaurant as friends. But you can’t even try to decipher what she says, just sounds coming out of her mouth that you pack away in order to get your job done.

Just cut the vegetables, finish the stock, cut the vegetables, finish the stock, you repeat it like a mantra in your head, unaware at Sydney calling your name. She reaches forward, pressing a soft hand to your shoulder to get your attention.

“Hey, did you hear me?” Sydney replies, concern written across her features as she peers at your disoriented state.

“Huh? Sorry, what did you say?” You reply, avoiding her gaze. You feel her penetrate through you, pitying the exhaustion on your face, probably realising you were a shit chef who couldn't even handle a couple responsibilities.

“I was asking if you could grab me some of the sauce I made yesterday from the storage fridge. You alright? You seem a bit..” Sydney starts, before you cut her off quickly

“Just had a long night, didn't get much sleep” You reply, rubbing your eyes with a hand. What has gotten into you? You weren't foreign to a few sleepless nights and a few too many deadlines you had to meet, hell your entire college and culinary life had been exactly that.

“That’ll kill you, you know” Richie butts in, reaching for a crab cake Sydney had prepared before being swatted away with a wooden spoon.

“What?” You ask, already regretting asking Richie to elaborate on what was clearly some elaborated story he had got stored away

“Go without that good old shut eye a few nights too long and you'll start hallucinating shit, not fucking with you you, don’t you know about the Russian sleep experiment-?” Richie rambles

“Ah here we go” Sydney replies, rolling her eyes

“You think because you went to Paris or whatever prestigious tight ass school you know everything? It’s real, happened right after World War 2, Russians got a bunch of people and just made them not sleep for like months, they starting turning into fuckin' aliens and shit-” Richie continues, ignoring Sydney's sly remarks about Richie's facebook usage.

“Richie c’mon, you know that shits made up” You reply

“Don’t matter, didn’t I tell you about my week long bender during college? Starting seeing my great aunt from the corner of my eye, and I swear she is still there-” Richie replies before getting cut off my Carmen calling his name

“Stop distracting my chefs Cousin”

You chuckle, shaking your head as Richie mutters about the fall of democracy and wipe your hands across your towel.

“I’ll go get your sauce Syd” You reply, and she smiles in gratitude as you turn towards the storage room. The cold air of the fridge wakes you up a little, and you rest your head against the door of the storage fridge, sighing in frustration. Talking to Richie was exhausting in itself, and when you were already running only fumes and second hand smoke you felt like it took the last bit of energy you had left.

You grab the container of sauce written with “DO NOT TOUCH” on its front, it's wrapped in cling film, with no lid and you're careful not to drop it everywhere. It wasn’t heavy, per se, just filled to the brim and without careful steps it was close to tipping out. You walk out of the storage room carefully, before turning towards your station.

“Corner!” You yell, twisting around the corner of the kitchen, before you slam straight into a tall body, jerking back and inadvertently spilling the sauce all across the kitchen floor and onto your shoes. You feel it sink into your socks and drip down your apron, eye twitching in frustration as Marcus starts apologising profusely, you ignore him, dropping down to your knees and reaching for paper towels. You start wiping away the sauce, as Marcus drops down to your level and tries to help, you shake our head looking up at him.

“Stop, Marcus, just stop. I can do it” You reply

“But-” Marcus protests

“We don't need two chefs to clean up a one person job, alright? You need to finish prep” You reply, letting the towels soak up the sauce. You grieve for Sydney, not all of it had spilt, but a quarter of a container wasn’t enough to get through the morning rush, let alone the entire day.

You ignore the spilt sauce all over your clothes, you didn’t have time to change now, rushing back to your station before telling Sydney about the spill

“You serious? I thought I could leave early today, got a friend's birthday” Sydney replies, pinching the bridge of her nose.

You instantly feel guilty, you should've been more careful, and now Sydney would have to pay for it.

“Hey, I got it, let me take that new recipe off your plate. That gives you enough time to get to the party?” You reply

Sydney looks up, rising her eyebrows “No, no I couldn’t possibly ask you to”

“Nonsense, I owe you anyway, remember when I had to leave halfway through the morning to get my sister?” You reply, with a tired smile before Sydney wraps her arms around you, you rub a hand across her back. You can’t really feel her arms around you, it’s like all your senses are delayed, you ignore it as you get back to work, now with another task on your plate.

You finish chopping the vegetables after a short while, usually you were the fastest in the house, but today you lagged behind, finally carrying the vegetables to Carmen who looked at you strange, his eyes staring through you, he swallowed like he was going to say something as you walked away, before stopping and continuing stirring the stock on the stove

By the time the Beef opens, you're still elbow deep in work, you've stayed silent most of the time, waving off Marcus’s apology and instead working, not stopping since you started. You skipped breakfast, and you hadn't gotten a chance to eat, and just when you're about to make yourself something, Richie calls your name from the front counter.

You walk towards the front of the Beef, wiping stains on your apron to look a little presentable to the outside world. Richie stands at the register, flicking a pen in his hand, a look of annoyance on his face.

“What's up?” You ask Richie, as a tall man dressed down in a polo sweater and khakis stares down at you in anger. He’s familiar, someone you had served when Richie had to take his smoke break, and he scrutinises you as you smile at him.

That’s the only way you could communicate with these people, any hint of anger and you’d be written of as angry and unable to control your emotions, you lost your last job because you defended yourself anyway.

“This guy said he came in and you made him something he apparently didn't like, but finished anyway” Richie replies, a knowing look passes between you both and you sigh, you don't have time for this.

“Morning Sir, May I ask what’s the problem” You ask politely

“You suggested to me a dish from the menu, alright, YOU, not me, so don't go blaming me for this, and look what I got, not only does it have nuts, which i hate, it's spicy. Way too spicy, I want a refund, NOW” The man replies, seething, his yelling catches the attention of other patrons, and Richie begins to reach under the table for a bat.

“Well, you finished it all so I don’t know what you-” You begin before the man cuts you off loudly

“Do you think I give a shift what you think? Huh? Jesus fucking Christ, see you just need to do what I fucking say, not argue. Give me a refund before I get you fired from this shit hole you dumb stupid-” The man yells, loudly before Carmen's booming voice cuts him off

“I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you” Carmen replies, clenching his jaw in way that told you he was trying to hold back the rage from spilling out

“Who the fuck are you?” The man asks

“I own this shit hole you piece of shit, and if you don't get the fuck out of my restaurant I'm going to break every single bone in your face with my bare hands".

“Excuse me?”

Carmen laughs, shaking his head before smiling at the man

“I told you”

Carmen drags the man by his collar, throwing him onto the sidewalk and dragging his body to the alleyway, you fear what he is going to do and Richie raises his eyebrows in astonishment.

“Well shit cousin, you ain't a pussy after all” Richie mutters under his breath

You can faintly hear the sound of splitting skin and the crack of bone, before Carmen storms back into the restaurant, eyeing all the patrons who are following his every move.

“Y'all got that? Anyone mess with my people hear and your walk out on a fucking stretcher” Carmen replies still seething with anger, before Richie claps loudly as Carmen walks back behind the desk.

“Call a fucking ambulance” Carmen replies, rolling his eyes at Richie before he walks towards you, the the tension immediately leaving him as he find your safe and away from that man.

“You alright? He didn't hurt you or anything?” Carmen asks in concern, his eyes darting across your body to see any imagined injuries

“It seems you should be asking him that question” You reply, nudging towards the alley of the Bear, chuckling as you shake your head.

“You didn't have to do that you know, iIcould have-” You start

Carmen looks down at you in concern, shaking his head as he places his hand on you shoulder

“Could've what? He was screaming in your face and I wasn't about to let him think that shit was okay, god, how could you not react?” Carmen replies, looking down at you in concern, shaking his head as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m just so busy, I still- Fuck, i still got to get Cicero's marinade in the fridge, and i need to start on Syd’s broth” You mutter pressing your fingertips to your temples.

“What? You’re doing Sydney’s load as well? Hey, you need to sit down a second” Carmen replies, as you begin to walk back towards the kitchen, with Carmen hot on your heels, asking you to stop and turn to him.

You hear him call your name, but the mountain of tasks that were now even later due to that customer had begun to seize your consciousness.

All you could focus on was the dishes you needed to make and the pain in your temples that had begun to spread down, your vision getting fuzzy around the edges as you try and shake yourself awake.

“Dammit, listen to me! Stop cutting fucking vegetables and listen to me” Carmen yells at you for the first time, twisting your body to face him and you spit out in anger

“What?!”

“What’s gotten into you today?” Carmen replies, yelling

And you don't know why, but that question breaks something in you, and you can't help but let out a short chuckle. Carmen looks down at you in horror, trying to reach for you, to catch you when the inevitable happens and you look at him once before it does.

Before your vision begins to blur and the edges begin to burn like a flame, you try and catch yourself, but it’s too late and you fall into Carmen's arms, wrapped up against his chest as you crash.

Carmen gathers you in his arms, his heart breaking beneath his breasts, holding his sweet girl in his arms as the streams of tears dampen his shirt. The rest of the crew watch on in concern, and Carmen shoes them away as he carries your unconscious body to the office.

“What the fuck Cousin?” Richie calls

“Hey, hey, is she alright? What -what happened?” Sydney replies in horror as she watches Carmen carry you from the kitchen.

“What happened was, ya'll did fuck all when she was practically breaking down trying to finish everyone else's fucking mess. What happened? Are you fucking serious? If i wasn't there, she would’ve fainted into a burning skillet of your fucking vegetables Sydney” Carmen replies, shaking his head, the entire crew goes silent, the only sounds coming from the beeps of ovens and stove tops, and the sizzling of burning food.

Carmen goes quiet, as he assesses your state, there is something unwritten in the way he holds you, and he blinks tight, his face twitching a little as if he had to make sure you were in his arms, the only place he wanted you to be.

“Get back to work” Carmen replies, quietly, a stark contrast to his rage from before, the crew has never seen him like this, his eyes and focus on you, as if he has been seized by this responsibility and dying need to protect you. He can hardly breathe, his arms shaking as he stares down at your sullen and tired face.

“We need-” Marcus starts before Carmen shakes his head

“No, no, enough. Sydney will hold down the fort, this is my responsibility. Get. back to work.” Carmen replies

—-

Carmen wastes no time to gently place your body onto the scuffed office couch, pressing a hand to your head, before reaching for an ice cold container of water, dipping a towel into it before gently pressing it to your forehead.

Carmen shakes his head in anger, he should've seen this coming, he should've noticed from the slump of your shoulder and your one word answers that you were stretching yourself too thin.

Carmen tortures himself as he replays the moments before you fainted into his arms. The way your features twisted into a sob, and the lasts shred of resolve snapped, and you had reached for him, you had reached for him.

You had reached for Carmen when you fell, and something in him broke when he had caught you.

Carmen had been used to his own self-destruction, but as he rested his thumb, rubbing circles and wiping away the tears on your face, he wished himself to change, not just for him, but for you. How could he? How could you be such a poor example to you? This was his own fault, and the reality of that conclusion twists like a knife to his gut.

His sweet girl, his Sunshine, who had thought the needs of this goddamn sandwich shop was more important than her own. You begin to stir in his arms, and the tension and shake of his arms begins to release as you wake up, Carmen eases you into consciousness when you begin to panic.

“Hey hey, I’m right here, you're okay, you're okay” Carmen replies softly, and you squeeze your eyes tightly, trying to understand what had happened and why you felt like your body was filled with lead.

"What, what happened” You reply, looking across the location of the office.

“You fainted, and I carried you to the office because you are not going back into that kitchen” Carmen replies, sitting up from his slumped position.

You stay quiet, confusion lacing your features as you shake your head. You fainted? How did that even happen? You had never fainted in your entire life.

Carmen peers at you, his eyes dancing across your face as your silence frightens him, he wouldn't even recognise you, your usual bubbly, and incredibly chirpy self was not replaced by someone who was so exhausted they couldn’t stay conscious.

“You gotta talk to me baby girl, please, look at me, you can tell me, you can tell me anything” Carmen replies, softly, caressing your hand with his thumb when it begins to shake.

You look up at him, his expression of worry and concern causing your features to twist,

“I um, I’m just a little tired” You reply, the beginning of tears choking you, causing your words to rush out as you try to stop yourself but it is fruitless, and Carmen eyebrows kind of pinch, he kind of frowns a little as he looks at you in that way.

It's all it takes before you sob, and sink into the coach. Carmen gathers you once again in his arms, and scoops your legs so that they lay across his thighs, and your head rests against his collarbone.

“I know baby, I know, I’m sorry, Oh honey I am so sorry” Carmen replies, rubbing your back as you let the last of your resolve sink into his chest, the cry of your tears leaving you speechless.

You can’t stop crying, the cup spilling over and making a big whole mess, snot and tears and heartache and exhaustion dirties Carmen's chef whites and you can't help but grip onto him like he is the only thing tethering you to Earth.

You don’t have to tell Carmen then, he knew the second you walked in, and he knows now when you hold him. There's a certain grief Carmen feels when he looks at you and sees himself, and in a way this is for Carmen too.

You sit like this for a while, you and Carmen. Wrapped in his arms as you lay across his lap, long after the tears had run dry, where you are left with hiccups and the soothing touch of Carmen's hand across your back.

It feels like you two are the only people on earth. Everything is Carmen; its all you smell, all you feel against your skin, all you hear as he whispers into you ear. No one dares to step into the office doors, even when an hour ticks by, even when the trickle of customers turns into a downpour and the orders never end, the family knows that you need this, that your health was better than money, or happy customers and fuck all.

Even after you have cried your eyes out, the responsibility of work begins to weigh on your body, you still had so much to do with so little time

“But the marinade, and- and Sydney's” You begin before Carmen cuts you off with a soft squeeze.

“Richie’ll handle it, and if he doesn't Cicero can go fuck himself. You really think I’m going to let that override you right now? Just forget about the kitchen alright, can you do that for me, pretty girl?” Carmen replies

You nod, the burden that had exhausted you to sickness lifted from your shoulders. You look towards the clock and realise the vendors were coming soon to meet with Carmen, something he couldn’t miss.

“The vendors, aren't they-”

“They came in 3 hours early, it's why it took me so long to get to you when that asshole was throwing a fit” Carmen replies, knowing what you were asking for.

You peek at him in question “Well?”

“They signed.” Carmen replies, rolling eyes and smiling at your delighted squeal

“What did I tell you? Carmen Berzatto is more than-” You start before a yawn stretches through you.

“Alright, alright, enough talking from you. When’s the last time you ate?” Carmen asks

You stop and scratch your head, trying to think and you laugh a little when you can’t remember.

“I don't know” You reply

Carmen’s eye twitches, and he smiles down at you before easing you off his thighs and onto the coach.

“What- what are you doing?” You ask, not even trying to hide the sadness in your voice. You already miss the heat of his chest warm against your cheek.

Carmen smiles softly as he looks down at you, threaded a hand through his head as he wipes down the creases on his apron.

“I’m making you something”

“What? No it’s- it’s okay I’ll eat at family” You reply, reaching a hand out to him

Carmen reaches for your palm, pressing a soft kiss on your the skin of your knuckles before reaching down to kiss the top of your head.

“No you need to eat now, alright? You're going to sleep the rest of the day, and then, and then, you're coming back to my place so I can keep an eye on you. You gonna listen to me or protest?” Carmen replies, eyebrow raised as he crosses his arms. His voice drops down an octane, like it was a command, and you have to bite back the desire floating in your stomach at the way he looks down with his eyes all heavy from above.

“Okay, alright, whatever you say Chef” You reply with a smile, and Carmen sinks his teeth into his bottom lip when you say it like that.

“Just wait a sec” Carmen replies, and as he is about to leave you call for him again

“What are you even making, half the ingredients are gone”

“It’s no problem, it’s your recipe anyway” Carmen replies, with a hint of a smile on his face before he leaves the room. It takes you a while, half because you're exhausted and the other half because you're hungry before the realisation hits you that he's made a recipe for you, about you.

You can't help the smile that stretches across your face, goddamnit Carmen Berzatto, and you say you aren't a romantic.

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alyakthedorklord · 2 years ago

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Welcome to Danny’s

Danny making a cafe/restaurant/whatever named Danny’s, in gotham, while on the run from GIW. A bunch of ghosts visit bc danny also makes ecto snacks from the secret menu in a side room. Due to this, it has the same liminal feeling and insane shit that happens in denny’s parking lots. (It’s like the fun sized and feral au by @nutcase8691 but i have a funny name.)

Sometimes Danny’s holds concerts for a famous rockstar (ember). Sometimes suspicious patrons walk right through a wall (into the ghost section). Sometimes there’s a frankenweenie outbreak if Danny is sleep deprived. It’s always freezing and yet somehow no one ever really gets uncomfortably cold. There’s ice sculptures. Plants that twitch and wave even if poison ivy isn’t around. Astrology maps on the walls that sometimes shift into occult symbols and hieroglyphics. Sometimes, after closing, (which is at the weirdest times honestly its open all night but closes random hours of the day) if you look through the slats in the window blinds it’s like you’re staring into the cosmos.

If you set up a fight (meet me in danny’s parking lot, 3am) there will be a referee even if you didn’t communicate it with the shop. The ref gives weapons, knows first aid, and stops fights if they get too rough. The second the fight is over they vanish into thin air.

Danny’s is neutral territory. Sometimes bad guys try to claim it but danny sets them straight. He doesn’t care if its a gang or a rouge, if they mess with his shop, or with anything/anyone too close to his shop, the Man Himself will emerge with a baseball bat, knock people out cold, stand over their groaning bodies and announce, “welcome to danny’s.” He’s never lost. He took out bane once. The Joker he didn’t even use the baseball bat he came after him with his fists. The joker doesn’t even have to be doing anything if he comes near danny will hunt him down. It’s like he has a radar around the shop. Once a really tired Red Robin herded him into the radar with a confused Red Hood’s help bc he just didn’t want to deal. Danny takes the clown out with a spectacular flying tackle before joker even realizes he’s wandered too close.

Jason goes to check it out later. Comes up to the counter to order and the tiny wayne bait guy behind the counter takes one look at him and goes:

“let me grab the secret menu”

“Uh… no, i just want a-“

“Trust me.” The guy says, eyes turning Lazarus green. “You want the secret menu.”

Part 2 of my ramblings (NOT a proper fic)

#dp x dc prompt #dc dp #dennys #danny has issues with clowns #the secret menu is glow in the dark green #food is the exact same but ecto #dp x dc

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mysunshinetemptress · 6 months ago

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Last Time

Alexia Putellas x reader

Warnings: Its short but its Pure fluff

Alexia sauntered back into your life like a melody you hadn't quite forgotten. You were, sipping your usual latte at the corner cafe, the city's morning hum a steady backdrop, when a familiar laugh shattered the comfortable buzz. There she was, hair a shade blonder than you remembered, eyes sparkling with that same mischievous glint.

You thought back to the last time you had laid eyes on the older girl, there had been a whirlwind of "one too many arguments" and the sting of a love left shattered. But seeing her again, the air crackled with a forgotten electricity. You drop your head slightly praying under your breath that she hasn't seen you, but you forget how observant the Catalonian is and sigh when you hear the chair across from you drag as she sits "Hola Y/n." you look up at the older girl your breath catching in your throat "H....Hi Ale." Alexia's cheeks turn a light shade of pink at the use of her nickname. You fall into conversation, hesitant at first, then tumbling into a comfortable rhythm, like pieces of a puzzle finally clicking back into place.

You find yourself sitting in her kitchen a few weeks later, trying to reconnect trying to navigate who you each are together how you fit into each other's lives as different people than the last time you spent this much time together

"Look," Alexia admitted, her voice laced with a vulnerability you hadn't seen before, "I know we messed up. But this time, there'll be no empty promises." Her gaze held yours, a silent plea for a second chance.

Memories flickered – stolen kisses in hidden corners, late-night talks that stretched into the sunrise. You saw the flicker of change in her eyes, a newfound determination that mirrored your own. This time, it would be different.

There were hesitations, of course. The memory of her leaving in the dead of night was a fresh scar. But with every shared laugh, every unspoken understanding that crackled between you, the trust began to mend. You saw the change in her, a newfound strength in her eyes.

Taking a deep breath, the conversation turned into a whispered promise the words tumbling out, "This is the last time." It wasn't just a declaration; it was a promise, a vow whispered on the wind. "The last time I let you go. The last time I fall for anyone else." You confessed, your voice thick with emotion.

A tear escaped the corner of Alexia's eye, a radiant smile blooming on her face. "Me too," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. "This is the last time. The last time we break each other's hearts. This time, it's forever."

As the months followed there were remnants of the past, shadows of insecurities that lingered. But with each shared smile, each stolen kiss and words of love they seemed to melt away.

One night, as you walked hand-in-hand, Alexia stopped, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears. "Remember when we first broke up?" she asked, her voice soft. "I realized, after the last fight, that I couldn't give you up."

You squeezed her hand, the memory a bittersweet echo. "This time," you murmured, your voice thick with emotion, "we're getting it right. This is the last time, Alexia. The last time falling in love. Because after you, there's no one else."

You had found your forever love, your last love, in the melody of a second chance.

#woso #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #alexia putellas x you #alexia putellas x y/n #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas

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elleluvsjurin · 3 days ago

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losing all my innocence in the backseat

requested

synopsis: you lose your virginity in the back of a car with your gf

pairings: g!p hanni pham x chubby fem!reader

cw: smut obvs, virginity loss, lowercase intended, non idol!hanni, reader and hanni both go to uni, reader’s friends are danielle and minji

a/n: longer fic for you bb’s <3

growing up you never had relationships with anyone, let alone sexual relationships or partners. growing up you weren’t considered “pretty” amongst the other girls in your class so you were mainly ignored until you started dating hanni, your girlfriend. you met her your junior year of high school and started dating your senior year. as if fate couldn’t bring you two any closer, you both happened to apply and got accepted to the same university so of course you guys were always with each other.

everyone knew that you were a virgin, it was really obvious..unfortunately. hanni isn’t a virgin so it’s harder to communicate with her. its not that you don’t want to have sex with hanni, you trust her 100% but you never really thought deep into it, not until your friends mentioned it.

you, minji, and danielle are sitting down in a corner of the campus cafe before minji clears her throat.

“so y/n..” she starts, you perk your ears up when she calls your name. “have you had sex yet?” she asks. your face instantly heats up and danielle gasps.

“minki..she hasn’t or she wouldn’t told us, silly!” danielle beams

“uh..no, we haven’t had sex yet. we haven’t really thought about it.” you admit. danielle pinches your cheeks and smiles.

“our baby is so innocent, it’s all on your time. i don’t want you to feel like you need to rush into it or anything.” she reassured you and scolds minji.

“it was a question!” minji says

“yeah yeah.” danielle waves her hand, “ignoring” minji

“thank you danielle..and thank you too, minji. hanni and i have a midnight hangout planned tonight so we’ll see what happens.” you say, nervously thinking about your girlfriend standing nakedly in front of you.

“have fun. i love seeing the love birds!” minji says with danielle agreeing with her. the three of you bid your goodbyes and go on about your days.

hanni comes to your room so the two of you can dressed together. both of you have private rooms but most of hanni’s things are in your room. she comes in(on the contrary to her copying your key, with your permission of course).

you’re applying your makeup when you see her walk in, she grins happily and hugs you from behind.

“you look so good.” hanni comments, making you smile

“takes one to know one, hm?” you reply and she laughs.

“i guess so.” she says, moving her hair out of her face. “you almost ready?” she asks

“mmhm, I’m doing my finishing touches.” you look at her in the mirror as you’re fixing up your hair.

“stop looking at me like that.” she mumbles softly

“like what?” you say, giving her slight doe eyes. she walks away with a flushed face and you giggle, successfully making your girlfriend blush.

“come on hanni. im officially ready.” you say, getting up from your chair and you grab your purse. she watches how your dress clings onto your body, accentuating your curves.

she grabs her keys and you two walk out to her car. you sit in the passenger seat, of course and she drives. as she drives, you softly grip her thigh and she grunts.

“y/n..what is up with you today?” she says, her accent thickening.

“what are you talking about? i can’t touch my girlfriend?” you say, innocently

“you keep on teasing me.” she admits as she continues driving, her breath hitching.

“you’re delusional.” you say. hanni pulls into an empty parking lot and stops the car.

“why are we even here?” you ask and she looks over at you, fixing the glasses on her face.

“you tell me. aren’t we supposed to be stargazing?” she says, her hands resting on your thigh with her thumb purposely rubbing it in circles.

“hanni im being serious.” you say, getting anxious as its in the middle of the night and you’re two women sitting in the middle of an empty parking lot.

“shut up.” hanni cups your face and she goes in for a kiss, you accept it of course but it catches you off guard for a moment but then you melt into the kiss. the kiss gets steamy, leaving you to grab onto her shirt, her hair, anything.

you two pull away after a couple of minutes, her face is beet red and your lips are puffy. you two sit in silence for a couple of moments before you speak up.

“hanni..I think im ready to lose my virginity.” you blurt out and she looks over at you.

“what? a-are you sure?” she stutters

“yes, im sure. i trust you with my body.” you say

“you wanna do it back here?” she says, motioning to the back of the car.

“uh sure!” you say. hanni locks the car doors, leaning her seat back as far as it could go, coaxing you to do the same.

“im gonna ask one more time. are you sure about this, y/n?” she asks

“yes, hanni pham. now show me the time of my life.” you mutter. she kisses you once more before she gives you a few commands.

“take your panties off for me.” you nod your head, pulling down your panties and handing them to her. she cheekily smiles, putting your panties into her pocket.

“i want you to relax and open your legs up. can you do that for me?” she asks, sweetly

“yes.” you mumble. glad that you wore a dress for easy access. you lean back and you open your legs for her; she eyes you like you’re her prey.

“hanni..i-im insecure.” you start to feel self conscious, as this is the first time that someone has ever seen your body. you start to close your legs and she pries them back open.

“don’t be, im here. you know i love your body from head to toe. don’t you dare close up on me, let me cherish this..you. do you understand me?” she reassures you by kissing your lips. you feel a little better but still self conscious because you’re the only one “half naked” at the moment.

“y-yes, i understand.” you say.

“im going to touch you, ok? i won’t put my finger in yet.” you nod your head, listening to her speak. she quickly finds your clit, rubbing it in figure 8 motions.

“that feel good?” she asks, feeling your breath hitch

“yes..it feels really good.” you reply and she rubs your clit a bit faster. obviously you’ve done this by yourself multiple times but it feels like a whole new experience with someone doing it for you. her fingers on your clit, alone, had your head spinning.

“you’re so wet, y/n.” she whispers in your ear, she softly kisses the side of your face while she plays with your clit.

“want your fingers.” you babble to your girlfriend and she obeys your command. she easily slides one of her fingers inside of your cunt and you groan.

“relax, open up for me.” hanni mumbles as she thrusts her finger inside of you, making you moan out

“a-ah..fuck.” she continues to thrust one finger before she adds another, making you gasp.

“holy fuck.. hanni! warn me next time.” you say, not getting too upset as her fingers feel amazing inside of you.

“yes ma’am.” she mutters as she continues thrusting her long fingers in and out, hitting at that particular spot..perfectly. you start to feel a weird feeling at the bottom of your stomach, a knot.

“i-i think im gonna cum.” you whisper, but of course your girlfriend hears you

“cum for me, cum all over my fucking fingers.” hanni encourages you, pumping her fingers in and out at a quick pace.

“o-oh hanni!” your voice trembles as you start to orgasm all over her fingers, coating them in your slick cum before she pulls her fingers out, making you suck on her fingers. you suck on her finger seductively and she groans, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“are you ready for my cock, babe?” she asks you, sincerely and you nod your head

“yes.” she opens her door, getting the backseat, waiting for you to follow and of course, you do. luckily she has an svu so you two can fit perfectly in the back.

“lay down for me.” she whispers and you comply. you lie down, your back presses up against the car door with your legs wide open, you place one leg on the car seat, near the window next to you and you place your other leg on the drivers seat where the head of the driver goes, hanni lifts your dress up over your butt.

“that’s my good girl.” she says, pulling you into a heated kiss while you cup her face. “need you..” you mumble and she smirks into the kiss. “im all yours.” she replies

hanni doesn’t bother taking her shirt off in case you two get caught so instead she unzips her pants, purposely not pulling them down all the way as there’s not enough space. hanni didn’t wear any underwear so she pulls her cock out through the zipper part of her pants. you blush at the sight of her cock, it’s not too thick but not too skinny but it’s the perfect amount of girth for you. it’s also not too long to do damage but it’s long enough to hit all of your sweet spots.

“ready?” she asks one more time. you look down at her cock as it glistens with precum, ready to be inside of you.

“yes.” you mumble. she kisses your lips as she slowly slides her length inside of you, groaning as she opens you up. your legs slightly shaking as she bottoms out inside you. your first orgasm allowed her to slide in much easier. she stays still for a moment, giving you time to adjust to her.

“God, move…need you to move.” you whimper as she slowly thrusts into you. “f-fuck.” hanni groans, feeling your walls spasm around her.

“faster hanni, fuck.” you moan out. your girlfriend thrusts a bit faster, as she doesn’t want to hurt you. she moves her hips forward and backwards inside of you at a steady pace, looking down at you.

“you look so pretty like this..h-hah~ gonna make me cum.” she whispers as she thrusts into your cunt, forcing you to clench around her from the statement.

“you feel so good inside of me, ni..” her cock twitches at the little nickname that you gave her.

she thrusts a few more times and she starts to rub your clit leaving your body to twitch.

“want you to cum all over me.” hanni mumbles as she continues to pound you out. you back arches off of the seat up under you as you start to orgasm all over her cock.

“a-ah…almost there y/n.” hanni moans, you pull her into a kiss

“mmh- cum in me, ni~” you say into the kiss before she cums inside of your cunt, filling you to the brim.

hanni kisses your forehead before she pulls out of your leaking cunt and she smiles.

“gosh just ruin my pants, why don’t ya!” she playfully exclaims

“oh shut up.” you say, getting up and pulling down your dress, shamefully.

hanni giggles, eventually giving your underwear back to her. “did i at least show you the time of your life?” she asks

“yes, can we go to my room now?” you add

“yeah. come on.” hanni says, getting into the driver’s seat after she pulls herself together, making herself look halfway decent.

the drive is a silent drive. it’s not an uncomfortable silence but a peaceful silence. just you, your girlfriend, and the night itself. hanni holds you hand while she drives, her thumb rubbing lovingly on your hand. she eventually presses your hand up to her lips, kissing it.

“you did so good tonight.” she says as she continues driving towards the dormitory that you stay in.

“thank you. you made me feel so special, i adore you.” you say, blushing as she pulls into the parking lot of the dorms.

“of course, darling.” she pinches you cheek before she gets out of her seat to open the door for you.

it’s past 1 am when you two get back to your room. you and hanni take a shared shower where you two made love…again. the two of you didn’t go to sleep until around 3 or 4 am, knowing damn well the both of you regret each other’s actions in the morning.

#kpop gg #fem reader #wlw post #gxg smut #newjeans hanni #newjeans x reader

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miaoua3 · 3 months ago

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Hey girl i hope u having a great time anwys could u do a minghao hcs? Thank u and i love u mwahhh

heya! i am, i hope you’re having a great time too! and yes, of course i could! love you too, enjoy!💋

Mingaho Boyfriend Headcanons:

•(sfw! hcs):

you two are literally so chill when together - literally embodiment of a steaming cup of teas on a quiet autumn morning, while the other people fall in love because they can tell each other everything and anything, you two fell im love because you can just be quiet and yet be so comfortable in each other’s presence

loves to randomly grab your hand and twirl you around before he starts dancing with you or just slowly swaying your bodies together by the sound of quiet music playing through your apartment❤️

speaking of quiet mornings- that’s his favourite time of the day, because there is nothing like spending some quiet time with your significant other while drinking a cup of tea and cuddling each other, basking in each other’s presence before you have to face the reality of your life and the world

loves buying small gifts for you, just a little keychain here, a coaster there, maybe a little frog plushie, some cute hairpins and scrunchies when he sees them in a shop that he normally just walks buys- he just loves seeing you get so excited and happy about such small things and it warms his heart knowing that it’s the small things that you treasure a lot more than any expensive gift ever

if you weren’t that big of a fashionista before, you definitely became after you started dating hao- he just influenced your style so much that now you dress so similarly and its so cute and cool at the same time

you know the ring his parents gave him when he was first coming to korea in case he needed money so he could pawn it off for some cash? yeah he gifted it to you, said something like “keep this safe for me, i only trust you to do it”❤️

loves nothing more than when he comes home after an exhausting day to an apartment smelling amazingly and you smiling at hime while saying “welcome home”, it’s the little moments like that that he treasures the most and that he will always have with him in his heart

his love languages are definitely word of affirmation and quality time, he just loves telling you how much you mean to him and how amazing he thinks you are, as well as just doing some intimate little things like spending time in a little cafe while talking about your days, all while holding your hand❤️

•(nsfw! hcs):

now this one is one of the members who is into more hardcore shit (if you couldn’t tell by all the fancalls where he asks fans to beg him to do things (minghao im not your strongest soldier, don’t do this to me)), can imagine him being into punishing you when you’ve been a brat, bondage, temperature play, all sorts of things

speaking of-he loves loves LOVES handcuffing your hands to the bed and blindfolding you while he fucks you hard and fast for hours, he will literally use your body for his own pleasure

another one that is into choking, nothing turns him on quite as much as seeing his slender fingers wrapping themselves around your neck and your breathless face beneath him, your glassy eyes begging him to do it again

he is definitely the one that loves to lean i to degradation, except he won’t call you names like bitch and whore, but will instead mock you and humiliate you for being so desperate for him, will just smirk at you while saying “aww, does the little princess want this dick? wants to cum on it and soak it completely? well that’s too bad, you will have to earn it if you’re so desperate to cream all over my dick” just dkdnsldboahs

definitely loves to edge you and delay your orgasms until you are sobbing, begging him to let you cum, it just turns him on to have such a control over you and your body

his favourite place to finish on is your face and your tits, just seeing his cum coat your blushing cheeks and your perky nipples makes him hard enough to be able to go for another 5 rounds, it’s just so sexy seeing you like that, like a painting he himself had the honour of painting

his foreplay starts HOURS before the actual deed, he’s big on foreplay because if you aren’t in the mood he simply won’t find it as pleasurable, so he starts by complimenting you, leaving a little lingering touches on your body like your waist and back, teasing you a bit by letting his hands stray to your thigh, your neck and maybe even your butt, and he will continue to do this, his touches getting progressively more and more bold but still not quite enough until you’re begging him to fuck you stupid💋

because he knows how hardcore he likes his sex, he always makes sure that you are alright about what he is doing and will provide a throughly detailed after care, being so gentle with you while cleaning you up and cuddling you, he’s just so scared that maybe he did go overboard and that you just didn’t want to tell him so you will have to reassure him that you were okay with everything he did❤️

#seventeen #svt #svt x reader #fypシ #tumblr fyp #fypage #minghao #minghao x reader #minghao x you #the8 #seventeen the8 #the8 x reader #svt the8 #smut #svt smut #svt fluff #fluff

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ashton-sano · 3 months ago

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Blue Lock Characters in: Being Jealous

(Characters Inclu.: Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira, Seishiro Nagi, Reo Mikage, Chigiri Hyoma)

Trying to get into the habit of posting more often, so have these headcanons. A Bit short but I hope you enjoy

Yoichi Isagi

-Somehow the worst one on this list

-He's likely to give the nastiest glare to whoever you're wasting your time with (of course when you arent looking)

-Post Blue lock Isagi is kinda the same, Just a lot less subtle. curses and maybe a fight or two if its Kaiser.

"That blonde asshole has no place talking to you, you're mine.."

-Don't be alarmed, he's unlikely to take his jealously out on you

-Unless you're teasing him on purpose, then he might get a bit agitated with you

- "My dear, I'm not too fond of how you let him touch you just then, please stop that."

-He's a two way street, either a sweetheart who tries to dodge around it or a straight maniac who will plot murdering whoever it is.

-Nothing to mistake, he isnt brainless, so theres always a chance he wont care

-He's mostly secure in your relationship with him but could use reassurance in times like that

Meguru Bachira

-Relatively tame for the most part

-If anything, he may get clingier

-He honestly doesnt even acknowledge the person youre talking to at first, he's too invested in you

"Oh, Baby! You busy today? I wanted to try this- hm? Oh, you're talking to someone...? Anyway, its this cool bakery I saw, we should try it!"

-If you aren't giving him your attention, that's when he'd get pouty

-He's a child at heart, naturally he's gonna get upset if you aren't paying him mind, no matter the reason

"Babyyyyyyy, gimme attention...! I dont care who youre talking to, love me!"

-Its cute so you usually give him his way and stop what youre doing

--> Little do you know, he does it on purpose because it always works

-Definitely a michevious little bumblebee

Seishiro Nagi

-Another rather tame one

-Hard to tell if he even cares with how lazy and laid back he is

-It usually never bothers him since he does trust you

"Hm? Your friend asked to hang out today? Sounds cool.."

-Like Bachira, he only cares when it cuts into your time with him, now its something of note for him

-How could you leave your boyfriend for some lame hangout? Playing Video games with him is much more important

"You want me to get off..? No...Not until you promise you'll stay and hang out with me..."

-Please just stay, he might actually cry if you leave (he wont, but it always gets you because you believe him)

->A 6'2" babi, why wouldnt you want to give him what he wants?

- Eventually he makes you forget why you were trying to leave in the first place

Reo Mikage

-Have you seen how he gets with Nagi? Safe to say he wont be very happy

-As mad as he'd be, I doubt he'll make sure you see that

-All smiles and grins when you look at him, what do you mean you swear you saw him scowl at the guy behind you? You're just seeing things love

"Dove, who's this? A..friend? Ah, well im sure we'll get along well, real well...."

-We all know how privledged he is, he would be appauled that you want time with anyone besides him, what could they give you that he cant?

-Granted, he wouldnt give it much thought at first but as you keep focus on this person, itll eat away at him more before he's pouting and begging for you to give him your undivided time

"C'mon Dove, how bout we go to that new cafe you were talking about, hm? No, im not trying to distract you, how could you say that..?"

(Thats definitely what hes doing)

-Eventually he'd bribe or sweet talk you into giving him what he wants

-"Dont ask about where that guy went, hes not important....Now lets go get some ice cream, yeah?"

-A tad creepy and overprotective but with all that money, who is to stop him?

Chigiri Hyoma

The most tame on this list, and by a rather large margin too

-This pretty boy knows you'll eventually give him your attention, nothing to worry about

-If anything, he encourages you to allocate your time doing what you want and speaking to who you wish

-That can change if the person is too touchy with you, however

"Pretty sure they asked you to take your hands off, keep them to yourself."

-He trusts you entirely, its the people you hang around that can overstep and agitate him

-Hence why he's almost always hanging out with you, your friends are his friends right? What better way to show them that you're happily taken then to bring your sweet, beautiful redhead with you?

"Going out sweetheart? Mind if i tag along? I mean only if you don't mind."

-Truly a man who knows his worth, but it would help if you told your especially pushy friends to mind their manners when he's around

-A few of them have actually attempted moves on him once or twice

-We stan a Pretty King 👑

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mt-oe · 7 months ago

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𝙎𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙖 𝙃𝙤𝙩—bandmate mizu

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

I'm so so sorry for not being able to keep up with requests that well. My program is taking a lot of my time and beating the shit out of me (esp. u immunology and serology >:c).

Anyways, here's a sort of prequel for my headcanons because band au Mizu is so yummy.

Enjoy! Mwa mwa:*

warning: not proofread, she/her for mizu, will refer to her as a boy (bc she canonically appears like a man), implied afab reader

"But you're so good at playing the guitar, and you have the charisma too. You should definitely join our band. Even our manager is amazing. She—"

"For the last time, Ringo. I don't want to join your stupid band."

Mizu and Ringo were already getting ready to go home after finishing their term-end project for their elective, which just so happened to be music. She didn't really think it through when she enlisted and just picked whichever she thought was the easiest. Ringo, however, just picked the same elective as Mizu.

She carefully placed her electric guitar in its case, zipping it up and securing the locks before slinging it over her shoulder. "I have better things to do and joining a band is a waste of time," she added as she walked up to the door.

Ringo followed after her, a smile still on his face despite the rejection. "You never know. This might even be your calling," he chimed as they exited the room, making her groan out of annoyance. They headed into the parking lot where Mizu's bike was parked. "We have an audition in a week if you want," he said, waiting for his friend to put on her helmet.

Once Mizu was finished putting on her helmet, she hopped on and leaned forward, pushing her weight to retract the center stand. "Not interested," she groaned out, slightly muffled behind her helmet. Her foot kickstarted the bike on before she revved the engine up a bit.

"Well if you decide to change your mind, just send me a message." Ringo stepped back a bit to give Mizu some space to move. She grunted in response and drove forward, leaving her friend waving and shout goodbyes at her.

What's so great about joining a stupid band anyway?

It's probably just filled with pretentious kids pretending to be as good as their idols but can't even memorize which strings their hammer ons should be.

Another groan escaped her lips the more she thought about the offer. It was annoying. Yet, a somehow, a small part of her wanted to play even more. The desire ringing at the back of her head like an itch she couldn't scratch off.

What if she did join?

What if it was as much fun as Ringo always said it was?

A sigh escaped her lips at how bothered she was by her thoughts. Why was she even thinking about this? She can always play her instruments at home. A crowd wouldn't make a difference, she thought as the wind whizzed past.

Her thoughts continued to race as she drove home. This band thing was stupid. Maybe she shouldn't attend the audition after a—

"Hey goofy boy!" a voice called out.

'What? Me?' she thought, lifting her visor to look around for the source of the voice. Across the stoplight, she saw another woman waving at her enthusiastically. It was almost ridiculous to look at. She raised an eyebrow, looking at her sides and behind her to see if you were talking to someone else before pointing to herself inquisitively.

"Yes you! Across the stoplight! C'mere!" you yelled, signaling her to stop in front of the cafe you were standing in front of, not really caring if other people were looking at you with how silly you were being.

Her blue eyes narrowed at you, clearly suspicious of your intentions. And yet, the way you were smiling and calling her over made her feel...something. Once the light turned green, she drove over to you, pulling up at the lot in front of the cafe.

You walked over to her, letting out a sigh of relief as she kicked the side stands on. "What do you want?" she asked in a low voice that clearly indicated that she didn't trust you even one bit.

"That.." You pointed to the guitar case on her back, making her raise an eyebrow cautiously. What did you want with her baby huh? She was so ready to throw hands.

"What model? And how long have you been playing?" you asked, still pointing to her guitar. Mizu looked over her shoulder being sighing. This was a waste of time. "I'm not inclined to tell you that," she replied, getting ready to kick her side stands off.

You snorted at her cold reply before leaning closer until she was face-to-face with you no matter how much she pulled away. The proximity allowing her to take in your features better and you were quite...pretty?

No. Wait.

Let's focus on how much of nuisance you were being.

Before she could even kick off her side stands, you already blocked her foot with yours. "Join our band," you said in a serious tone, showing her a business card before placing it in her jacket, smile still on your face.

Mizu groaned and rolled her eyes. "No. Now get your foot off before I kick it off," she replied. Yet, you kept your foot in the way of her stands, making her eyebrows knit together. "You look really goofy riding that bike of yours with a huge ass guitar case on your back," you said, eyes glancing at her guitar case before staring into her eyes intently. "You have talent, don't you?"

The smile on your face despite how serious and forward you were being was unnerving. "So what? I'm not going to join your band," she said in a low voice. Indeed, she was quite stubborn, but nowhere near your level. This motorist was the diamond in the rough you were looking for. "Goofy boy, join me in the café. It's my treat."

There was no way she's going into that café just for you to give her your sales talk and convince her to join your stupid unknown band. Not in a million years

—was what she thought.

Yet here she was, helmet off and sitting in front of you with a cup of matcha latte, watching you take a bite out of the cake you bought for yourself. After taking a slow sip, she sighed and narrowed her eyes at you. "I thought we were here talk about your band," she scoffed.

You smiled at her yet again, fork still in between your lips. "You're not going to talk right away, right? So let's take our time." A small 'tch' escaped her lips as she leaned back against the chair.

"Fine. I'll talk," she replied, staring at you up and down. Now that she was able to sit down and relax the tiniest bit, she was finally taking her time to look at you. And you weren't an eyesore at all. In fact, you were really fucking cute.

She's still not joining your band though.

A small giggle escaped your lips as you placed the fork down, resting your elbows on the table and intertwining your fingers together. "What model?" you asked, eyes darting to the guitar case beside your table.

Mizu glanced at it as her hands wrapped around the handle of her cup. "A les paul," she replied before taking a sip. Your smile widened before you took a sip from your cup as well, setting it down when she set hers down. "How long have you been playing?"

"Long enough," she replied, glancing at you, rolling her eyes at how you stared at her with curiosity, as if coercing her to tell more. "Fine, fine...before I started high school. I think. Maybe even longer."

You hummed in satisfaction and took another bite out of your cake. "Any other instruments?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow back at you. "A bass. A mustang."

Silence washed over both of you as you continued to eat your cake, making her feel a bit nervous. A small clink was heard as you put your fork down after taking your final bite. "What's your name, goofy boy?"

"Mizu," she replied before taking her drink into her hands. She downed it in one go, placing the cup down and picking her guitar case up. "This is pointless. I'm leaving," she said in a low husky voice, getting ready to stand up.

It was clear to her that she shouldn't have given so much time to you. She wasn't even interested in joining. Maybe if you weren't so cute, she wouldn't have tried to hear you out.

Before she can even stand up, you beat her to it, pushing her back down on the chair gently. Her eyes widened ever so slightly as you leaned forward again.

"I'll make you a star."

Huh?

Her clear surprise and confusion made you giggle. What the hell were you talking about? You pulled away and placed your hands on your hips, giving her a confident smile.

"Talent recognizes talent, Mizu. It may not be now, but I'll make you a star," you beamed.

Mizu blinked before scoffing. "That's ridiculous," she sneered before standing up and putting her helmet on. "For the last time, I'm not fucking joining your stupid audition."

Was what she said.

But here she was, a week later, sitting down inside the studio hallway. Her eyes watched as the auditionees chatted amongst themselves. Those who were done with the audition complaining about how strict the judge was, who she learned was just one person.

Her nerves were sending jitters to the tips of fingers, her throat tightening up slightly in anticipation. She closed her eyes and took a deep inhale before exhaling slowly. Just as she opened her eyes, she jumped slightly at the sight of a familiar pair of feet in front of her.

"I knew you were going to change your mind," her friend's voice chimed.

Looking up, she made eye contact with Ringo who was beaming at her, drumsticks tied to his stubby hands. "But how did you know where our studio is?"

This was the band Ringo was talking about? Oh boy.

She grunted and handed him the business card you snuck into her jacket. "The address is written there," she said with a sigh. He let out a small "oh" before his eyes widened even more. "So you've met her before," he replied cheerfully, handing the business card back.

"Who?" she asked, a serious yet curious look on her face. He looked confused for a moment before he replied, "Our manager. The one who handed you that card?" She wanted to ask more questions, but then a voice suddenly called for the drummer. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I gotta go. Bye!"

Upon Ringo leaving, Mizu sat back down and closed her eyes again, resting her elbows on her knees.

Some time later, all the auditionees had finished and yet, it seems that all of them had been rejected. "This is a waste of time. I should have left earlier," she muttered to herself.

Just as she was about to leave the studio, her name was called, leaving her with no choice. Slowly, she entered the room only to be greeted with—

"You came!" your voice beamed.

Her eyes scanned around the room to see you sitting down on a chair, holding some papers, as well as the other band members presumably. "And you're the manager apparently," she said plainly. A chuckle escaping your lips as you nodded. "You can get ready whenever you want to."

Once her guitar was plugged in and ready to go, she looked up at you again, waiting for any further instructions. Despite her mind telling her that there was nothing to be nervous about, her gut was squeezing and churning from anticipation.

Should she do her best? Or should she fuck this up?

Your eyes watched her carefully, observing how she handled her guitar. "Play any song you'd like," you said, leaning forward in your seat as you set the papers down on a chair beside you.

No. She didn't want to be in this stupid band. She's not going to do her best.

Why the fuck would she do that?

This wasn't even worth it.

Nononononononono—

She looked down on her guitar before beginning to strum the familiar intro of Smells Like Teen Spirit. Despite her bobbing her head slightly, it was clear through her body language that she wasn't even trying at all.

The smile on your face slowly disappeared until all that was left was an unreadably neutral expression. Once she was done, she looked at you with a bored expression. "Well?"

You sighed at her, giving her the same bored expression back, making her smirk a bit. "Guess I'm not in, am I?" She unplugged her guitar, getting ready to put it back in the case before your hands stopped her.

"Sit back down. We're not done," you said in a serious tone, facial expression neutral yet your eyes told her that you were daaaaaaaamn annoyed with how little of an effort she put in. The look in your eyes, they way you were gripping the neck of her guitar, did something to her. "I don't owe you a performance," she replied.

You glared at her lightly before snatching her guitar from her hands, causing her to glare at you. She tried to grab her guitar back but you kept evading her as you plugged it back in. Once it was plugged back on, you pushed towards her, making her stumble back a bit from how harsh you did it.

"Now sit down and play. Talent recognizes talent, Mizu," you growled at her. The scene causing everyone in the room to go quiet. It was clear to them that you were pissed. "If not, then sell that guitar. You're wasting it."

After all, the only thing you hated more than the equipment suddenly breaking was wasted potential. And Mizu was wasting a LOT of potential.

Your words struck a nerve in her causing her. With a loud screech, she pulled the chair towards her and sat down. "Fine. If it gets you to shut the fuck up."

She looked at you with one final glare as she leaned back, hands beginning to move against her guitar.

She began playing Hotel California, immediately skipping to the guitar rift at the end of the song.

By the normal person's ear, it wasn't anything special. There were more impressive sounding songs out there. But to you, you knew how difficult it was to get the tone of the song right with how slow it was compared to other rifts. If she made a mistake here, a wrong pluck, a wrong drag, a wrong vibrato, the mistake would be so painfully obvious.

And yet, here Mizu was, playing it perfectly with the same angry look on her face. She was damn mad at you for touching her guitar, for pushing her towards your stupid fucking band. And yet, she couldn't help but want to impress you.

Did she really not want to be in the band?

Why was she trying so fucking hard then?

Like her body was moving on its own.

Like her hands were itching to play more.

As she ended the song, she looked down at the ground. Suddenly, the sound of clapping caused her to perk up and look at you. The sight causing her breath to hitch a blush to dust over her cheeks. That was when she knew the answer to her question.

It was you and your proud little smile.

That cute fucking smile.

All the annoyance and anger you held at her melted off during her little performance. You knew you saw talent. The moment you saw that goofy looking motorist with the awkwardly large hard guitar case at the stoplight, talent already hit you like a damn truck.

Although she knew you were satisfied with her performance, she couldn't help but want to try more. She'll try. She'll damn try for the hottest fucking manager she has ever seen. Her earlier hesitations of whether she wanted to join the band or not disappearing.

Call it a gay agenda but she was going to secure this fucking spot. She'll be best fucking guitarist you have ever heard or seen.

Just as you were about to congratulate her, she raised a hand up to cut you off. "Wait—fuck—that was too easy. I... goddamnit. Wait, I'll try doing something harder," she said in a panicked slur.

Her hands immediately went back to her guitar, eyes narrowing in thought. If an impressive guitar rift was what she needed...

Suddenly, she began playing the guitar rift for Free Bird. Eyes glued to her guitar, palms sweating a bit as she hit every chord, every pluck, every fucking bend.

You couldn't place your finger on what it was, but somehow, it felt like she was playing more passionately. Like she was putting her all into this one song. Was it the way she was bobbing her head? Or the way she moved her guitar during every vibrato? Maybe the way her body moved with the music?

Once the song ended, she closed her eyes and let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. You couldn't help but giggle at how flustered she looked, making her blush again.

"Am I in?" she asked, looking at you with hidden desperation in her eyes, making you giggle even more. Her eyebrows furrowed as you continued to laugh, not really answering her question. "Well?"

A gulp went down her throat as you stood up from your chair and picking up the papers you previously held. "Mizu," you giggled out, "You were already in from the moment you tried again."

...

Well that was embarrassing.

You handed her the contract and a pen, humming as she read the content before signing. Looking at her signature, your smile widened. This flustered looking guitarist was exactly what you were looking for and you just hit jackpot.

"You won't regret this, Mizu. I swear." She glanced at you, scanning the big smile you had on your face before looking down at her guitar and unplugging it. "I better not."

Suddenly, you lunged forward at her. Her eyes widened when you suddenly took her hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together. "Talent recognizes talent," you repeated, leaning closer to her, grip tightening with every word.

"I'll make you a star."

She'll be your star.

#bes mizu x reader #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu #mizu x reader #bes mizu #bes x reader #blue eye samurai mizu #mizu imagine #mizu x you #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x fem!reader #bes #Spotify

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