#navigator iris | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

withleeknow · 6 months ago

Text

somewhere only we know.

pairing: ot8 x reader (ot8 in the sense that there's no name mentioned so you can imagine whoever you want) genre/warnings: established relationship, (tooth-rotting??) fluff, half a second of angst if you squint; this is pretty self-indulgent and also i just randomly wanted to write it this way. kinda similar to this but not really word count: 0.6k note: again, imagine whoever you want! mimo is on the cover just for illustrative purposes and also he's my guy so what did you expect from me lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

the waterfront on the tail end of a sunset walk. your hand tightly intertwined with his. sharing strawberry tanghulu and tasting the fruity sweetness on each other's lips. neighborhood children rushing by in a hurry to make it home for dinner. 7:12pm, his jacket around your shoulders to keep you warm as dark blue begins its descent for the evening. the wind and her gentle kisses upon your hair. you stop to take a picture of the sunset but he stops to take a picture of you. a rose-colored blush when he tells you you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. love, love, love. him, the stars shining in his eyes before they have to come out and paint the sky. mismatched footsteps and twin smiles.

the middle of your apartment's entryway, not even making it into the living room. your arms around his neck, his hands on your waist and in your hair. a long trip coming to a stop, a big suitcase abandoned by the door. the scent of his familiar cologne that you've yearned to touch for weeks now. 1:19am, wide awake. somewhere in the world, iris by goo goo dolls is playing on repeat. i missed you's and i love you's and fresh tears. feeling like you could hold him like this for hours until the darkness outside falls away. no more facetiming with seas of distance between you. chests pressed tightly together, no space, all love. sweet nothings whispered right next to your ear. home is where the heart is, and your heart is home.

the park five minutes away from his parents' house. your head on his chest, both of you on a large picnic blanket laid out on green, green grass. his heartbeat under your palm, your mind somewhere up there among the clouds. sleepy and lax under the influence of the sun. 3:29pm, an iced matcha latte and a slice of lemon cheesecake sound absolutely divine right about now. there's an urge to voice that thought, but you know neither of you can be bothered to move. his lips pressed against your forehead, then a tender "i could stay like this forever."

the convenience store just around the corner. a spontaneous snack run in the middle of the night because you were craving sweets. empty streets but your hearts are full. the cashier's ringtone is a song that you both hate. 12:22am, no worries in your head. tomorrow is still the weekend. banana milks and chocolate ice cream. he falls for you all over again when you aren't looking, and tells you "nothing," with a coy smile when you ask why he's staring. time works differently at night, almost like it doesn't seem to pass at all. there's no logical explanation to why you feel like you're on top of the world at midnight in sweatpants; maybe it's just being with him, maybe it's just being in love.

your favorite bar on a rainy evening. the argument was stupid, but it was heated enough for you to storm out. only red on your mind; forgotten weather forecasts and forgotten umbrellas. stubborn and angry and alone. the fight was your fault anyway. 8:18pm, a bottle of soju for company. ignoring his calls and texts when your phone lights up with his name. heavy raindrops loud enough to hear from inside your shelter, heavier heart. the way his face fell when you said what you didn't mean. why did you say that? forty five minutes and the bottle is almost empty. far too tipsy to pay attention to the chime of the bell by the door, but sober enough to recognize his presence when he sits down next to you. his rain-dampened hair and your fragile, wounded pride. the apologies are quiet, uttered into the space between the two of you, only for his ears. forgiveness in the form of gentle fingers holding your own. "it's getting cold," he says. "let's go home."

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader

282 notes · View notes

zorkaya-moved · 2 years ago

Text

GI: HEADCANON — The childhood fame of the twins. Sirin and Alkonost. Local common knowledge for any character within Snezhnaya.

I take Snezhnaya’s fame of Zarina to be only local, not international, as her fame as a doctor/researcher/scholar. Thus, ONLY PEOPLE FROM SNEZHNAYA (civilians, Fatui, Harbingers, Tsaritsa) know these tales about the Sokolov twins Zarina and Victor.

As stated in my verse, the Sokolov twins - Zarina the older and Victor the younger - are natural-born hunters, and they have been known as such ever since they were kids. The young legends, the young prodigies, the young warriors who caught the eyes of many when they were growing up. Both Zarina and Victor, since their childhood were the best hunters in their village and then slowly but surely climbed the ranks to becoming one the best hunters in Snezhnaya altogether. As kids of merely ten, they were able to hunt for beasts and monsters that would take a team of veteran hunters to take down all because of their natural skillset and their skills. They were fast, they were clever, and they were tiny devils that scared the older generation of veteran hunters. The kids would not brag, the kids would not boast about their hunting skills, and the kids would simply come in and out to get rewards to bring home to their ailing grandmother to help their family.

As the twins grew up, they became known not only for their hunting skills but also for their charisma upon becoming teengers. They weren’t afraid to speak against others who they thought were incorrect, and they were able to prove it all too easily, but… they were also not getting into fights they could not win. Simply stating: the people of Snezhnaya know how talented the twins are on the battlefield and in hunting, but they also speak of how smart and intelligent the kids are in strategy and general learning capacity. Perhaps, that’s why they were invited to join the Fatui at such young ages, but two twins decided to walk separate ways.

Victor Sokolov quickly rose up to become a captain of one of the Fatui legions, working below Harbingers and refusing to get higher since he fell in love and didn’t want to leave Snezhnaya borders more than he had to, all to take care of his younger brother and court his beloved Margarita. It’s a well-known tale in Fatui about how infatuated Victor is with the young maiden who works as a baker in her family’s store. Victor has been asked countless times why someone with his skillset doesn’t want to go higher, and his answer? He said he wanted more free time to do what he wanted, and pushing forth to become a Harbinger isn’t something he ever really wanted. That’s why this young man has become one of the most prominent trainers and captains of the Fatui, the ever-charismatic devil in disguise. Everyone in the Fatui knows how much he loves to fight, how much he enjoys hunting, and how damn irritating he is in hiding his skills until he really has to take on the mantle of the warrior. The Fatui recruits have to go through him first and foremost before proceeding to become members of the Fatui. The Fatui agents also say how Victor and Tartaglia are similar in their bloodthirst. Still, it’s also well-known that Victor fully supported Tartaglia’s ascension to become a Harbinger when others questioned why Victor wouldn’t step up with his skills and true abilities. Once again, Victor refuses to step up because he’ll lose his free time, and he better stay in Snezhnaya and work on internal training and battles because he has family obligations. For any Tartaglia rpers, Victor could’ve been one of the people who trained Ajax before he became a Harbinger since Victor is - just like Zarina - 27-28 years old. If you're interested, it can easily be discussed.

Zarina Sokolova, unlike Victor, was known as the ‘quiet’ kid. Victor was the friendly and charismatic boy since childhood, while Zarina was the cold and calm one, too mature for her own good since her young days. People would say that she was an intimidating child, but she was taking care of her family first and foremost. It’s not a secret that the one who strategized the most and was studying the most was Zarina, who spent less time with other kids and others to concentrate on learning more. This is why people in her village and in Snezhnaya were surprised to hear that she changed upon her return from the Akademiya. The people of Snezhnaya see Zarina as another ‘hero’ because of her inventions and her study in medicine. Before civilians and Fatui agents, this woman was someone who went out of Snezhnaya to bring new knowledge and learn new ways to help them. Women are especially grateful to Zarina’s studies (as all across Teyvat), but so are hunters and Fatui agents, as their battles and fights leave them injured, hurt, and more. Certain people do know her of her… truer nature, of course, they do not forget that she was a huntress and that she is still very capable of making people bend their knees before her. Certain others say that she is intimidating, her fame and her presence are oppressive to them when she speaks as if she makes one obey her words. Since the majority of her time has been in Sumeru, the people of Snezhnaya will be able to say that Zarina is a huntress through and through, a true Snezhnayan icon in terms of survival and someone who chose the path of 'goodness' to help others. Well, that's common knowledge, right? The public doesn't need to know of her darker wishes. Her reputation is essential.

In general, the reputation of both Sokolov twins is highly positive within Snezhnaya.

The Snezhnayans know both as “Sirin” (Zarina) and “Alkonost”. In Slavic Mythology, those are the names of heavenly birds that sing about despair and happiness, respectively. With how cold and calm Zarina was a child, the nickname of ‘Sirin’ follows her in the lands of Snezhnaya still, and the same goes for Victor, who has been the more flamboyant and excitable one out of the twins.

#❄ ― HEADCANONS. ╱ the cold，pure flame of conquering is what I was destined for.#( navigation pages: verse centric; )#❅ 𝐕. GI: SUMERU AU ⤻ the frozen moon’s daughter‚ ichor spills in the iris of your serpent eye. ❞

0 notes

emjayewrites · 20 days ago

Text

swift pursuits • ibou konaté (1/6)

SYNOPSIS: Fresh off Olympic gold, sprinter Iris "Dash" Dashiell reluctantly joins football star Ibrahima Konate for a high-profile campaign. Despite her having a boyfriend, Iris can't ignore her growing attraction to Ibou as they navigate fame's pressures together. Ibou finds himself equally drawn to the vibrant athlete, but with careers and hearts on the line, will they risk it all for a shot at love?

WARNINGS: cursing, football b.s., instant attraction/friends, and other things I’m not revealing just yet — minors dni (18+)

PAIRINGS: Ibou Konaté x Iris "Dash" Dashiell (fc @/cardineal)

TAGLIST: @trentswrld @trenterprise @kj77 @2serenity0 @saturnville @judes-hoe

A/N: Shoutout to @lev-1-1 for the inspiration! This is my first (and perhaps only) Ibou fic! I don’t know a lot about him besides what I’ve Googled and what he shares on his IG but I’m digging tf outta him. This is a work of fiction and please let me know if you wish to be added/removed from the taglist. Also, this synopsis and theme of the story is inspired by Offensive Formations by Christina C Jones. Dividers by @inklore

CHAPTER 1: The Whirlwind

Iris Dashiell's legs were on fire, but she couldn't stop now. Not when she was this close. The finish line blurred in her vision as she pushed herself harder than she ever had before. The roar of the crowd in Paris's Olympic Stadium faded to white noise, and all she could hear was the rhythm of her own heartbeat.

One more hurdle.

As her feet touched down on the other side of that final obstacle, time seemed to slow. Iris leaned forward, chest first, arms back. In that moment, she wasn't Iris anymore. She was pure speed. She was "Dash."

The moment her torso broke through the finish line, reality came crashing back. The stadium erupted, and Iris fell to her knees, gasping for air. She'd done it.

Olympic fuckin’ gold.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Iris 'Dash' Dashiell has just set a new Olympic record in the 200-meter hurdles!"

Tears streamed down Iris's face as she stood, her braids coming loose from her ponytail. She looked up into the stands, searching for her family, her team. Instead, her eyes locked with Serena Williams, the tennis legend giving her a standing ovation. Iris's heart swelled. This was everything she'd ever dreamed of.

But dreams, as Iris was about to learn, have a way of shifting once you achieve them.

The next few hours passed in a blur. Interviews, drug tests, more interviews. By the time Iris finally made it back to the Olympic Village, her phone was blowing up with notifications. Congratulations from fellow athletes, messages from old friends, and, of course, her cousins asking if she could hook them up with some of that "Olympic money."

Iris groaned, tossing her phone aside. She just wanted to sleep for a week.

A knock at her door jolted her from her thoughts. "Yo, Dash! Open up, girl. We're celebrating!"

Iris recognized the voice of her teammate, Zoe. With a sigh, she hauled herself off the bed and opened the door. Zoe burst in, followed by a couple other members of Team USA.

"There's our golden girl!" Zoe whooped, pulling Iris into a hug. "Girl, you were flying out there! Even Allyson Felix was shook!"

Iris couldn't help but smile. "For real? Allyson said something?"

"Check your DMs, sis. Everyone's talking about you."

As if on cue, Iris's phone buzzed again. This time, it was her boyfriend, Marcus. "Babe, you killed it! I'm booking my flight to Paris right now. We gotta hit up some clubs, show you off!"

Iris's smile faltered. She loved Marcus, but right now, a club was the last place she wanted to be. Before she could reply, another message came through. This one from her manager, Jamila.

"Iris, darling! Fantastic job today. I've got Good Morning America and The Today Show. We're going to strike while the iron's hot. I'll send you the schedule in the morning. Rest up, superstar!"

Iris felt her chest tighten. The whirlwind was only just beginning.

"Hey, you good?" Zoe asked, noticing Iris's change in demeanor.

Iris forced a smile. "Yeah, just tired, you know? It's been a long day."

Zoe nodded, understanding in her eyes. "I feel you. We'll let you rest. But tomorrow, we celebrate for real, a'ight?"

As her friends filed out, Iris sank back onto her bed. She should be on top of the world right now. So why did she feel like she was about to be swallowed whole?

Her eyes drifted to the gold medal sitting on her nightstand. It glinted in the low light, a symbol of everything she'd worked for. But as Iris drifted off to sleep, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of a whole new race. One she wasn't sure she was prepared to run.

The next few days passed in a whirlwind of flashing cameras and rapid-fire questions. Iris felt like a hamster on a wheel, running from one interview to the next, her smile growing more strained with each passing hour. But just when she thought she couldn't take another minute, she found herself face-to-face with none other than Snoop Dogg, Team USA's unofficial ambassador.

"Yo, Dash!" Snoop greeted her, his signature drawl instantly putting her at ease. "Girl, you was flyin' out there! Had me thinkin' you had wings on them shoes!"

Iris couldn't help but laugh, her first genuine smile in what felt like forever. "Thanks, Uncle Snoop! I still can't believe it happened."

"Believe it, baby girl. You earned every bit of that gold. Now, let's talk about that race. Break it down for the Doggfather."

For the next fifteen minutes, Iris found herself actually enjoying an interview for the first time. Snoop's laid-back style and genuine interest in her sport made her feel like she was just chatting with an old friend. By the end, she was even teaching him her pre-race dance routine, both of them laughing as Snoop tried to keep up with her quick steps.

As the interview wrapped up, Snoop gave her a fist bump. "You keep doin' you, Dash. The world ain't ready for what you got next."

Iris held onto that feeling of joy as she was whisked away to her next appointment - a meeting with her management team. She arrived at a sleek conference room, where her manager, Jamila, was already waiting with several others.

"There's our golden girl!" Jamila exclaimed, pulling Iris into a hug that smelled of expensive perfume and ambition. "We've got big news, darling. Huge!"

Iris sank into a plush chair, bracing herself. "What's up?"

Jamila's eyes gleamed. "We've just locked down a major deal. A campaign for Pulse Athletics. It's going to run for the next three months, really capitalizing on your Olympic momentum."

"Three months?" Iris felt her chest tighten. "But I was hoping to take some time off, maybe visit my family—"

"Oh, sweetie," Jamila waved her hand dismissively, "there'll be time for that later. This is your moment!"

One of the other team members, a young man with thick-rimmed glasses, chimed in. "The best part is, you'll be working with another star athlete. It's a collaboration that's going to break the internet."

Iris perked up slightly. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad if she had a partner to share the load. "Oh yeah? Who is it?"

Jamila beamed. "Ibou Konate!"

Iris blinked. "Who?"

The room fell silent for a moment before Jamila let out a forced laugh. "Oh, Iris, you're such a kidder! Ibou Konate? The Liverpool defender?"

Iris shrugged, feeling suddenly out of her depth. "Sorry, I don't really follow soccer."

Jamila's smile tightened almost imperceptibly. "Well, darling, you're about to become very familiar with Mr. Konate. This campaign is going to be huge for both of you."

As her team launched into the details of the campaign, Iris found her mind wandering. She tuned back in just in time to hear Jamila say, "You'll meet Ibou next week for the initial photoshoot. I have a feeling you two are going to hit it off!"

Iris nodded, forcing a smile. As excited as she should be about this opportunity, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was losing control of her own life. But this was what she'd worked for, right? This was what winning gold meant.

As she left the meeting, Iris felt a headache coming on. All she wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep, but as she approached her hotel room, she could hear a familiar voice from inside.

"Yeah, yeah, that's right! Your boy is in Paris with the Olympic champion! Iris 'Dash' Dashiell, aka the fastest woman in the world, aka my girl!"

Iris closed her eyes and took a deep breath before swiping her key card. The door swung open to reveal Marcus, her boyfriend, lounging on the bed with his phone held high, broadcasting yet another Instagram Live.

"And here she is, folks! The golden girl herself!" Marcus exclaimed as Iris entered the room.

Iris forced a smile and gave a half-hearted wave to the camera. "Hey everyone," she said, her voice lacking its usual energy.

Marcus jumped up, still filming. "Babe, you won't believe all the stuff that's been arriving for you! Check it out!"

For the first time, Iris noticed the array of gifts scattered around the room. Under normal circumstances, she might have been excited, but right now it all felt overwhelming.

"And look at this!" Marcus continued, seemingly oblivious to Iris's fatigue. He gestured to a stunning bouquet of yellow and white roses. "Guess who these are from? Go on, guess!"

Iris sighed. "I don't know, Marcus. Who?"

"Beyoncé!" Marcus practically shouted into his phone. "That's right, Queen Bey herself sent flowers to my queen! How dope is that?"

As Marcus continued to catalogue the gifts for his followers, Iris sank into an armchair, her eyes fixed on Beyoncé's flowers. Any other day, she would have been over the moon. Now, she just felt numb.

"Marcus," she said quietly, but he didn't seem to hear her, too engrossed in his livestream.

"Oh, and check out these sneakers from Nike! Limited edition, not even out yet. That's how they do when you're dating a champion, you feel me?"

"Marcus," Iris said again, louder this time.

He finally looked at her, lowering his phone slightly. "What's up, babe? You good?"

Iris opened her mouth, then closed it again. What could she say? That she was exhausted? That all of this felt like too much? That she missed the days when it was just about the run, not the fame?

Instead, she forced another smile. "It's nothing. I'm just tired."

Marcus nodded, his attention already back on his phone. "No doubt, no doubt. You've been grinding hard. But hey, that's the price of greatness, right? Speaking of which, we got that club appearance tonight. It's gonna be lit!"

Iris felt her heart sink. Another appearance. Another night of smiling and waving and pretending she wasn't bone-tired.

As Marcus resumed his commentary for his followers, Iris's eyes drifted back to Beyoncé's flowers. They were beautiful, no doubt. But right now, all she could think about was how much she missed the simple beauty of the wildflowers that grew near her childhood home.

She closed her eyes, trying to recall their scent, the feel of grass under her feet as she ran through the fields. For a moment, she was back there, free and unburdened. Then Marcus's voice cut through her reverie.

"Yo, Iris! You gonna get ready? We gotta leave in an hour!"

Iris opened her eyes, the hotel room coming back into focus. The gifts, the flowers, Marcus with his ever-present phone – this was her reality now. With a heavy sigh, she pushed herself up from the chair.

"Yeah," she said, heading towards the bathroom. "I'll be ready."

As she closed the bathroom door behind her, shutting out Marcus's voice and the glare of his camera, Iris caught her reflection in the mirror. The face that looked back at her was one she barely recognized – the face of a champion, they all said. But right now, she'd give anything to just be Iris again.

With another deep breath, she turned on the shower. Time to get ready for another night in the spotlight.

The studio buzzed with activity as Iris walked in, her steps heavy with exhaustion. She'd barely slept in the last week, thanks to Marcus's insistence on hitting every hot spot in Paris, not to mention the endless amount of interviews and press junkets. As she approached the set, her eyes landed on a tall, striking figure chatting animatedly with the crew.

That had to be Ibou Konate.

Damn, he's tall, Iris thought, her neck craning as she took him in. At 6'4", Ibou was a whole entire tree, making her feel like a shrub in comparison.

As if sensing her gaze, he turned, and Iris felt her breath catch slightly. Ibou was undeniably handsome, with rich brown skin and a dazzling smile that seemed to light up the room. His hair was cut short on the sides, with tight, well-maintained waves on top. A neatly trimmed goatee framed his full lips, giving him a look that was both rugged and refined.

"Ah, you must be Iris!" he called out, his French accent rolling pleasantly over the words. He strode towards her, hand extended. "I'm Ibou. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Iris shook his hand, noting the warmth of his grip. "Hi," she replied, her tone cooler than she intended. She was just so tired.

If Ibou noticed her less-than-enthusiastic response, he didn't show it. Instead, he grinned even wider. "I heard about your races. You were like lightning out there."

Before Iris could respond, a peppy woman with a clipboard bustled up to them. "Great, you're both here! I'm Ana, your social media manager for this campaign. Let's get you two briefed!"

She ushered them to a quiet corner of the studio. "So, here's the concept: 'Dare or Double Dare.' Over the next three months, you'll be challenging each other to various dares - could be eating weird foods, pulling pranks, doing crazy exercises, you name it! We'll capture it all for social media, of course."

Ibou's eyes lit up. "Sounds fun! I'm always up for a good prank."

Iris, however, felt her heart sink. Three more months of this circus? "And this goes on after the Olympics?" she asked, trying to keep the dread out of her voice.

Ana nodded enthusiastically. "Yep! Right through to the middle of Ibou's season. It's going to be epic!"

As Ana continued explaining the details, Iris felt her attention wandering. She was vaguely aware of Ibou cracking jokes, his laughter infectious enough that even in her exhausted state, she found the corners of her mouth twitching upward.

Suddenly, a commotion near the entrance caught her attention. Marcus had arrived, and he did not look happy.

"Yo, who's this dude?" he demanded, eyeing Ibou like he was sizing up competition.

Iris sighed. "Marcus, this is Ibou. He's my partner for the campaign. Ibou, this is my boyfriend, Marcus."

Ibou, ever pleasant, extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, man."

Marcus wasn't having it. He ignored Ibou's hand, his eyes narrowing as he clocked how Ibou was looking at Iris. And yeah, maybe there was a hint of something more than professional courtesy in that look, but right now, Iris couldn't bring herself to care.

"Marcus, chill," Iris hissed, embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

But Marcus was on a roll. "Nah, I see how he's looking at you. I'm just supposed to be cool with that?"

Iris felt something snap inside her. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the pressure, or just the way Ibou towered over Marcus's 5'10" frame, making her boyfriend look like he was picking a fight with a redwood. Whatever it was, she'd had enough.

"You know what? Just... just head out, Marcus. Please."

"Are you serious right now?" Marcus's voice rose, drawing stares from the crew.

"As a heart attack. Go."

For a hot second, it looked like Marcus might pop off. But then he turned and stormed out, muttering curses under his breath.

What the fuck is he on today? Iris turned back to find Ibou and Ana staring at her, concern evident on their faces. "I'm sorry about that," she said, feeling suddenly drained. "Let's just... let's get this shoot started, okay?"

The next hour passed in a blur of poses and outfit changes. Iris tried to focus, to summon the energy and charisma that had become her trademark. But as the bright lights beat down on her, she felt herself growing dizzy.

The room started to spin. She heard Ibou's voice, sounding worried: "Iris? Are you alright?"

And then the world went black.

When Iris came to, she found herself cradled in strong arms. She blinked, her vision clearing to reveal Ibou's concerned face looking down at her.

"There you are," he said softly. "You scared the shit out of us."

Iris tried to sit up, but Ibou gently held her in place. "Easy now. The medic's on his way. You fainted - probably from exhaustion and dehydration."

Feeling embarrassed and vulnerable, Iris closed her eyes again. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Non, non, don’t apologize," Ibou insisted. His voice was soothing, almost melodic. "Tell me, what do you like to do to calm down? To relax?"

Iris found herself answering without really thinking. "I... I like to take walks in the wildflower fields on my parents' property in Virginia. They own a horse ranch."

"That sounds beautiful," Ibou said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "I'd love to see that someday."

Did he just…? Nah, he’s probably just being nice. "Yeah," Iris continued, surprised at how easy it was to talk to him. "And when I can't do that, I watch anime. Jujutsu Kaisen is my favorite right now."

Ibou's face lit up. "No way! I love anime too! Have you seen the latest season?"

For the first time in what felt like forever, Iris felt herself genuinely smiling. "Not yet. I've been so busy with training and..."

"Say no more," Ibou grinned. "We'll have to watch it together sometime."

As the medic arrived and helped Iris to her feet, she became acutely aware of Ibou's hand still resting on her waist, steady and warm. It felt like a lifeline, grounding her as the world slowly stopped spinning. Suddenly, as if realizing what he was doing, Ibou dropped his hand, muttering a soft "sorry" under his breath.

The medic led her to a nearby chair, quickly setting up an IV drip packed with vitamins and fluids. As the cool liquid began to flow into her veins, Iris felt some of her exhaustion start to ebb away.

"Are you okay to continue?" the photographer asked, concern etched on his face.

Iris nodded, mustering up a weak smile. "Yeah, I can finish."

The photographer shook his head. "Let's take an early lunch break. Give you time to recover properly."

As the crew dispersed, Iris leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. The medic stayed nearby, monitoring her progress. After what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, he unhooked the IV, pressing a colorful lollipop into her hand with a wink. "For being a good patient," he said with a grin.

Iris couldn't help but chuckle as she unwrapped the dum-dum. Who said being an adult wasn't fun?

Once she felt steady enough, Iris made her way to the lunch area, grabbing her phone from her bag before stepping outside. The photoshoot location was a dream - a picturesque Parisian garden not far from the Eiffel Tower. Lush greenery surrounded her, dotted with vibrant flowers that seemed to dance in the gentle breeze. In the distance, the Iron Lady herself stood proud against the clear blue sky.

Her phone buzzed, shattering the peaceful moment. A text from Marcus flashed across the screen, his anger about Ibou evident even through the digital medium. Iris rolled her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips.

Marcus had been... different lately. The clout-chasing, the bouts of jealousy - it wasn't like the Marcus she'd known back home. But she tried not to dwell on it too much. It was probably just the stress of sudden fame, right? Nothing to worry about.

"Beautiful view, huh?"

Ibou's voice from behind her made Iris jump slightly. She turned to find him standing there, two plates of food in his hands. He offered one to her with a smile.

"Thanks," she said, taking the plate. "And yeah, it's gorgeous here."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, taking in the scenery as they ate. Then Ibou spoke up again.

"So... have you seen the One Piece live-action on Netflix?"

Iris shook her head. "Not yet. Is it good?"

Ibou shrugged. "It's alright. I'm not a huge fan, to be honest, but it's decent. The anime is better, of course."

They fell into an easy conversation about anime, debating the merits of various shows.

"Oh," Ibou said suddenly, "about watching the new season of JJK together... maybe we could do a watch party?"

"That could be fun," Iris agreed.

"Great! I'll set it up. Can I get your number? To coordinate, you know."

Iris cocked her head to the side, a small smirk playing on her lips. "I have a boyfriend, remember?"

Ibou’s expression was all innocence. "Yeah, I know. But does that mean you're not allowed to have friends?"

Iris considered for a moment. He had a point, and besides, they'd be working together for the next couple of months anyway. What harm could it do?

With a shrug, she rattled off her number, which Ibou quickly punched into his phone. "Cool," he said, flashing that megawatt smile. "I'll text you so you have mine too."

As they headed back inside to resume the shoot, Iris felt lighter than she had in weeks. Maybe this campaign wouldn't be so bad after all. And hey, it never hurt to have another friend, right?

TO BE CONTINUED….

#emjayewrites #ibou konate #Ibou Konate fanfiction #ibrahima konate #french nt fanfic #liverpool fc fanfic #footballer x black reader #footballer x reader #swift pursuits #Ibou x Iris

89 notes · View notes