#I wrote a lot more than I meant to here but I can't say I didn't expect it in all honestly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prismatoxic · 3 months

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okay, shipping brainrot from my last post aside, i'm still thinking about the shapeshifter arc. the other sites i use don't have inline posting or do but it's clunky, so i guess i'm theorizing here. some of this may seem obvious; bear with me, i'm not trying to be patronizing, just working through things. this will probably be long.

(edit: i've since learned there's canon explanations for all of this. regrettably i don't like them. enjoy my ideas of what would be better maybe? but keep in mind i wrote this before i knew it had been explained anywhere else.)

(edit again: i've done a 180 and come fully around on the canon explanations! i have a lot of thoughts about them but this isn't the post for that. anyway i'm disabling reblogs, sorry. you can still look at this if you want)

laios reveals what he knows of shapeshifters, and that they function on memory:

no one ever really suggests in chapters 39 or 40 who thought of which fake except in the case of which ones laios must have thought of, but i want to posit who i think each one came from, and what it means narratively if i'm right. so, mostly a thought experiment/character study that i could be wrong about or that was never meant to be clearly defined in the first place. but maybe fun to think about? (i'm sure other people have done this before too, but i think it'll be fun to write up.)

from the outset, i think it's worth mentioning that chilchuck knows all three laios fakes are, in fact, fakes. two chilchucks say this, but the one on the right is the real one. senshi and marcille immediately corroborate this, though we can't tell which of them it is except that it's not any of the really obvious fakes.

what i think this suggests is that, brought to the surface, the warped perceptions of the rest of the party that chilchuck, senshi, and marcille have can be easily discerned when compared with the real thing. each of these laioses is from one of them, but they immediately figure out none of them are right with the real laios right there in the room. this is important.

as for who's who...

i think it's fair to assume that giant laios is from chilchuck. laios is the tallest member of their party, at six feet; while chilchuck sees marcille and senshi as their correct heights, laios is a giant to him, and his bulky armor doesn't help. that's why, even if this is his perception, it's glaringly obvious that it's wrong as soon as it's made physical. it's the only big one, and easily falls into the camp of "doesn't seem to know much about monsters" that the others also do.

stupid laios is, i think, from marcille. because the giant one is so likely chilchuck's and i don't think senshi sees laios as someone who stupidly wants to eat everything (even if senshi's opinion of him isn't stellar right now, "i have to eat it" wouldn't be paired with being an idiot to senshi), it tracks that marcille would be the one to remember him this way. to someone who doesn't appreciate their monster eating and otherwise thinks he's an idiot just as much as the others do, dumbly muttering about eating things seems like a reasonable portrayal of laios.

feminine laios, then, is from senshi. i think his physical perception of the other party members is the most off-base; this is likely because he's known them for the least amount of time, and his idea of what they look like is based more on their races than anything else. i think the resemblance to falin might not be intentional--someone suggested to me the other day that the dwarf perception of tall-men is probably more feminine in contrast to how Macho dwarfs are. i think that makes sense (if it ever comes up canonically, i haven't seen it yet). laios and falin do just... look like gender-swapped versions of each other, also. so if senshi sees laios as a feminine person, well... that just winds up looking like falin.

so this leaves us with only the real laios. confronted with their perceptions of him, his friends can immediately tell all three are incorrect.

moving on, we eliminate the three most obvious fakes from the rest of the party, starting with marcille:

if we take into account what i just said about senshi, i think this is his. racial stereotypes about elves being what they are, him not knowing the party as well as the other members do... she stands out, and that's why.

now this is where things start to get interesting.

the next two fakes to be eliminated aren't so blatantly incorrect that they can be struck right out at a glance, but it's not hard to notice the flaws when you look closer, and chilchucks A and B are the ones to point it out. chilchuck is naturally observant; most of his fakes seem to emulate this. (the one who addresses the fakes is A, the real one, but B is proving himself able to pick up on the things A notices. this is important.)

notably, chilchuck and senshi assume these must be laios's versions of them.

we can assume this is correct, if we want to. we can take the framing of this as being an intentional reflection of the truth.

or... or... we can look a little deeper. we can wonder if, perhaps, this isn't a reflection of laios, but a reflection of his friends and what they think of him. laios may not immediately notice the problems, but i don't think it's because he doesn't remember these details. i don't think laios sees much of anything in vague terms; he's observant in his own right, but in ways he doesn't really recognize, nor does anyone else. i think he was so focused on their faces and mannerisms that he didn't notice the bigger picture, glossing over something because so many other factors are at play.

senshi and chilchuck think laios doesn't take notice of things, but the vast majority of the shapeshifter arc is about them and marcille not trusting laios's judgement as it is, given how things went recently. is it possible there's more to their assumptions here than what the text explicitly says? i think so!

so then who do these two belong to? marcille, i think.

if we assume dumb laios is hers, then we can also assume her perceptions of the others are kind of broad and vague. she doesn't think poorly of them, necessarily (at least not in as obvious a way as she does with laios, who, i'll remind you, she's currently upset with), but she doesn't commit unimportant details to memory, like chilchuck's neck band or the damage to senshi's helmet.

we've got three more "obvious" fakes to get through, and laios offers another lore tidbit on how the shapeshifters work:

anyway, the first of the next round is marcille again, setting the stage for how these three next fakes are eliminated.

marcille changes her hairstyle all the time, so this isn't a surprise. the last one pictured here winds up being our next fake, as indicated by her grimoire:

so the fake marcille in this section is the one with the most visibly different hair texture (who even draws attention to this), and the spellbook that's woefully incompetent. i think she's from chilchuck.

he's observant, as i said before; even if he didn't commit her hair to memory, he did remember the stuff she's said about how important hair is to magic. maybe that's why the texture is so striking. more importantly, chilchuck isn't wary of magic quite the way senshi is, but he also doesn't understand it. the general tone of the low-quality grimoire also just... sounds like the way he'd frame something like that. (plus, the "how to turn back time" bit is a thing he specifically called her on when she suggested it a few chapters ago.)

so the next fake chilchuck and senshi are revealed via their tools:

i think the chubby-cheeked chilchuck with the simple lockpicks is from senshi, and i think the ordinary-looking senshi with the simple cookware is from chilchuck. the former speaks for itself--senshi sees chilchuck as a child, and knows absolutely nothing about picking locks. as for the fake senshi, chilchuck has a decent mental image of him but knows nothing about cookware.

so now we're down to the final three fakes, and there's only one person left who they could be from: laios. nobody thinks this, not even laios himself, but i want to explore the concept because i think it has extreme merit. the three remaining fakes have some key similarities between them, namely in that they're all close enough interpretations that making a distinction is difficult. they look a tiny bit different, but both the real people and their fakes make plausible cases for why they're the actual person. i want to talk about why i think laios is the one who made that so, and what that means about him.

chapter 39 ends with all his companions--real and fake--doubting his skills. seeing a pattern?

chapter 40 opens with laios determined to regain his friends' trust in him...

...while his friends (and their fakes) talk about how he's liable to like the fakes more, because they're monsters.

this is a needlessly cruel interpretation of laios, but after how things went post-falin-rescue, it's not a surprise. they see him as reckless and single-minded, more interested in the things he's weird about than in the people around him.

laios is really bad at talking about what he's thinking--not because he's hiding it, but because it doesn't occur to him that it's important. meeting the lunatic magician in the paintings is a prime example of this, but he does it a lot. they likely have no idea why he told toshiro about falin and the black magic; to them, laios was being flippant with sensitive information, not worrying about their safety. to laios? he was trying to get help. he trusted toshiro, and his perception of their friendship made him think the information would help them gain an ally who cared about falin as much as they do. he wasn't trying to put falin or marcille in danger--far from it, in fact. but he didn't tell his friends about his thought process. he didn't think it was important to share.

(he's autistic but we all know this. moving on)

so, we have laios's plan: the pairs cook together, while he watches for behavioral differences to discern who's who. it doesn't occur to him, or anyone else, that the people he's watching for mistakes are his own perceptions of his friends. and now we get into the meat of why i wanted to write this post.

assuming i'm correct... let's talk about laios's view of his friends, and how he challenges those perceptions.

starting with my favorite, chilchuck:

chilchuck A, of course, is in fact the real one. this is a pretty significant character moment for him too, in my opinion; we know he has difficulty expressing his emotions, and that a lot of his conflicts so far have stemmed from that. the fact that "chilchuck B asked for help with a menial task" is a gotcha moment to him is... telling. not only because it's so obvious to him, but because it's not obvious to any of his companions. he thinks they know this about him, but he's never openly expressed anything to make them think this is an issue he'd have, in addition to having sought help in the past.

his "convictions and pride and all that" seems to them like someone trying to convince them of something, not someone reminding them of facts he assumes they know.

anyway, back to laios. if we accept that chilchuck B is made from his memories, this suggests several things. first of all, chilchuck B is, despite his softer eyes and willingness to ask for help, still a fairly accurate portrayal of chilchuck. he's easily annoyed and he's observant, two traits chilchuck is known for. i think the reason chilchuck B has the kinder eyes and the more gentle disposition is because to laios, those things are indicative of someone being a good person, and he very much thinks chilchuck is a good person.

we know laios isn't especially good at reading people in general. thus, his idea of who his friends are is skewed in broad strokes, but not in the ways they think. he knows who chilchuck is, but he also associates chilchuck with his own ideas of what makes someone "good", which results in a chilchuck who's less rough around the edges. confronted with this--the real chilchuck asking him if he can tell--laios compares the two and thinks, reasonably speaking, the nicer one who trusts him has to be the friend he respects so much.

senshi and marcille also want to accept this chilchuck, likely for similar reasons. they also respect and care for him; they've seen him go through a lot. laios's ideal of him is just that, ideal. in a roundabout way, it's only their deep fondness for who chilchuck really is that makes them want to see him this way.

next up, we have marcille.

the fake, marcille A, is a radical departure from what makes chilchuck B a fake. laios notes that the real marcille is exactly the same as she always is. the reason, then, that marcille A confuses him--and the others--is that after everything they've been through, their perception of her has changed radically.

if we look back to senshi and chilchuck's marcilles, it's readily apparent when they're eliminated that both interpretations hinge on the knowledge that she performs black magic. senshi's tries to use it to prove herself; chilchuck's has a grimoire loudly proclaiming it's what she does. contrast this to marcille A: she doesn't mention black magic at all, and her grimoire looks strikingly similar to the real one.

that's because laios doesn't think her performing black magic changes anything about who she is. her doing so proved her to be just as dedicated to falin as he himself is, and the knowledge that her goals involve it doesn't faze him. (additionally, marcille has been teaching him magic, and falin had tried in the past. though his image of a grimoire is flawed to someone experienced, to anyone else it looks fine.) thus, marcille A isn't a flagrant black magic wielder; she's someone who's been fundamentally changed by what they--and falin--went through.

let's go back to chapter 27:

chilchuck and senshi are appalled, and will continue to be. while they ultimately don't prevent marcille from doing this, and care enough about both her and laios (and in chilchuck's case, falin as well) to be in tentative support, this changes their view of her in a negative way. she's dangerous now, in a way she wasn't before, but she's still marcille--goofy and a little reckless. thus, their views of her, and the illusions that result.

laios's opinion of her changes for the better.

she is, all at once, both competent and loyally dedicated. she will stop at nothing to help falin. whatever goofiness she exhibited before now is gone, replaced by the cold demeanor of someone who is doing something extremely dangerous for reasons that are inherently selfish, but ultimately too important to reject.

thus, we return to marcille A: cold, sharp, dedicated. not reckless or goofy, but methodical and haunted. she may have returned to "normal" since they left the castle town, but laios's opinion of her, and understanding of her love for falin, has been forever changed.

so faced with the real marcille--still silly, still whining, still frequently annoyed with him--he's confused, because that's deeply familiar, but it doesn't line up with what he knows about her now.

the truth, of course, is nuanced--these things are true about marcille, but only under duress; it's similar to how laios becomes a competent leader when the going gets tough. she has this within her, but it's not her default state of being. still, the shapeshifter picks up on the strongest memories laios has of her, this new interpretation of someone he thought he knew.

now then--onto senshi, the punchline of this particular joke about the differences between the copies. i still think it says a lot.

i think this one speaks for itself, though i find chilchuck's agreement interesting. senshi is the newest member of the team; little is known about him. laios happily notes that senshi "always looks cool" while chilchuck says he looks normal (and chilchuck B insults the real one). laios sees senshi this way because he thinks senshi is cool as hell, and this manifests in an idealized version of a face he's not as familiar with as he is with chilchuck and marcille.

this is clearly comedy, but it also speaks to the same desire to see the best in the rest of the party. marcille is the only one who notices likely because her opinion of senshi isn't so romanticized. chilchuck's senshi, of note, wasn't a perfect replica: we don't see much of him after the obvious fakes are hauled off, but he's a little squashed (he's the top one):

which indicates that chilchuck's visual memory of senshi is already flawed. if we compare this to giant laios and the marcille with the unique hair texture, it tells us chilchuck's attention to detail is more specific than the others'; he can remember the hole in the helmet, the importance of hair, but he doesn't quite see the bigger picture. giant laios is also surprisingly... rugged? which i imagine has to do with chilchuck's perception of him as a tall-man. (or maybe how he clearly has trouble seeing laios's face half the time, lmao...)

anyway. laios thinks senshi is super cool and chilchuck has an imperfect idea of what senshi look like as it is. (i wonder if chilchuck is some degree of faceblind? not enough to not recognize someone at all, but can't pinpoint specifics.)

and so, we arrive at the moment of truth.

so let's go over what i'm theorizing here... all the remaining fakes are illusions based on how laios sees his friends. the illusions manage to make mistakes that reveal the truth to him, but i think the reason for that harkens back to what laios said earlier... the illusions are being updated over time.

laios isn't considering any of the things that give the fakes away until this moment. if it had taken a little longer to resolve things, maybe they'd have started course-correcting, but they aren't given the chance. laios makes sure they aren't--he acts very quickly. even as he presents the three pairs with his findings, he's aware that everything will fall apart as soon as he does... and he's banking on that. while the shapeshifter illusions defend themselves from being killed, he gets right to the heart of the matter in the only way he knows how: confronting the actual monster involved.

when all's said and done, laios reveals how he figured it out:

potentially of note, all of these details happened before the red dragon fight. chilchuck fighting a mimic and revealing his history with them, senshi gushing about the dungeon's ecosystem, and marcille being attacked by the undine weren't super recent memories. when laios brought them forth in his mind, he had a delay before the shapeshifter updated its illusions.

well... except with marcille. marcille A actually didn't show her hand so easily; it was the real marcille's carelessness that proved her identity.

but what this suggests is that, when confronted with the realities of marcille versus his idealized version of her, laios had to make a choice: did it make more sense for her to have been radically changed by the revival and subsequent loss of falin, or was the presence of a marcille he knew so well proof of an illusion? she was the one who was the most different, and as such, the contrast was the same one that eliminated all three laioses at the start: with the real thing in the room, the fake became apparent.

so, to reach a conclusion: one again, laios has proven he's not as scatterbrained as his companions think, but this time he did so on a more personal level than usual. to them, he reveals that he knows their quirks enough to define them by such when they're otherwise faced with convincing copies. to us, the readers, if we accept what i've suggested here... he's revealed a lot more. he respects, admires, and idolizes his friends, all out of fondness: he wants to see them in an ideal way, whatever that means for each of them as individuals.

anyway thanks for coming to my TED talk

#dungeon meshi #extensive spoilers for chapters 39 and 40 but also a little bit 27 too #I REALLY LIKE WRITING META SORRY. THIS IS LONG #tox.txt

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mrs-bucky-barnes106 · 10 months

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౨ৎ good morning ౨ৎ

summary: reader and bucky are very much in love and have their morning routine down to a tee. bucky manhandles the reader a lot but not in a weird way, just in an "i love you and can't live without you" kinda way.

warning: fluffffff (bucky and reader are EXTREMELY in love and love to show it)

wc: 1.8k

pairing: domestic!bucky x reader

a/n: I wrote this between the hours of 11PM-1AM when i was feeling especially psychotic. I am so sleep deprived I’m sorry. But I just came up with this sweet little scenario and had to write it down. This is why I shouldn’t be allowed to daydream.

playlist:

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You opened your eyes, groaning as soft sunlight filtered through your open blinds. You tried remembering the dream you had just abruptly woken up from. Something about a tall, muscular, brown-haired man. The man of your dreams. The man whose arms were now around you from behind, caging you to his warm chest.

You turned around to find Bucky gently stirring in the light of the sunrise. You reached your arms out around his shoulders as he slowly blinked his eyes open. You were both morning people and were glad for it because it meant the two of you were in sync. Neither of you got much sleep, what with Bucky being plagued by his nightmares and you by your insomnia. However, you were in it together, making hell sightly more endurable.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he mumbled with a sweet smile, burying his face in your chest. You squirmed slightly in his arms as his thick beard scratched your chest. You were coming to like his grown-out facial hair. It made him look like a soft teddy bear rather than a violently beautiful Greek god. Yes, you quite preferred this look to his freshly shaven one with his chiseled cheekbones and jawline of steel on full display. With his beard, he looked somewhat more approachable, more domestic, and more lovable than ferociously intimidating.

“Good morning, my moonlight,” you whispered. He was the moonlight to your sunshine, the darkness to your light. He complimented you so perfectly that it sometimes made you want to cry.

Bucky interrupted your thoughts by pulling your body on top of his. “Mmh, I love you so much,” his voice was slightly muffled as his face was still smushed against your chest, and he wrapped his thick arms around your back, securing you in place on top of him.

“I love you too, baby boy,” you combed your fingers through his hair. It was much shorter than it used to be, but it was starting to grow out like his beard. You were not complaining, however. The long summer days the two of you spent swimming in the pool caused his hair to curl at the ends, and it was a lighter shade of brown now than it was during the colder months.

“Wanna stay here with you forever,” Bucky mumbled into your chest, peppering sweet kisses to your neck and jawline before lazily moving his lips all over your face.

“C’mon, Bucky, you say this every morning,” you giggled. “We gotta get up soon, bubs. We have things to do and people to see.” You pushed his face away, scrunching your nose when you caught a whiff of his morning breath.

“They can wait,” he muttered, half-heartedly batting his arm at the air like a petulant child. You almost giggled but caught yourself. You couldn’t encourage him on like this. You actually did have a lot of errands to run later in the day and a long to-do list to accomplish. While you wanted nothing more than to indulge Bucky (because, duh, why would you want to do anything but lay here in your soft bed, basking in the morning light with the man you loved), you knew you needed to be an adult and put your responsibilities first if you wanted to prevent your life from falling apart. You decided to give him ten more minutes. After that, you would force yourself to get up.

You almost fell back asleep, tangled up in his arms. In fact, you probably would have if it hadn’t been for your grumbling stomach. You were past the point in your relationship where this embarrassed you. In fact, you were grateful to your stomach for choosing to be so loud because otherwise, you might not have gotten out of bed all day.

But before you could leap out of bed and berate Bucky for almost making you fall asleep again, he leaped up, carrying you like a child. Of course, he would get up when you were in danger of being hungry. “Can’t let my pretty doll starve, now can I?” he smirked down at you.

“Barnes, you have five seconds to put me down!”

“Five, four, three, two…,” Bucky ran into your shared bathroom, clutching you in his arms like you were a football. “…one! Touchdown!” he plopped you down on the toilet’s closed lid, holding onto your shoulders for balance as he let out a belly laugh.

“I hate you,” but you were smiling a mile wide even as you said it.

“Aw, that’s too bad, doll,” Bucky fake-pouted at you, backing away out of the bathroom. “Because I lava you very very much.” He said the last part in his silliest baby voice, scrunching up his face to give you air kisses as he turned to leave.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help grinning like you had won the lottery. Truthfully, you had won the lottery because if wealth was measured in happiness, you were ecstatic, floating above everyone else. It was the same silly routine every morning, with Bucky forcing you to cuddle him in bed for at least a half hour and then bolting up with you in his arms whenever your stomach grumbled. He knew you were grumpy when you didn’t have any food in you, so he started on breakfast when you got ready in the bathroom. When you offered to switch roles, he said this was optimal since you liked to brush your teeth before breakfast, and he brushed his teeth after. Your heart melted at the memory. Your boyfriend got your breakfast ready for you when you came downstairs. Every single morning, without fail. It was the little things that made you fall in love over and over.

You finished your skincare routine and headed downstairs to find the same scene as every morning: Bucky with a kitchen towel over one shoulder, plating whatever he made for breakfast. Today, he had made a fluffy stack of pancakes and scrambled eggs. He had even gone the extra mile to put spinach and chopped tomatoes in the eggs and had added fresh berries and banana slices on top of the pancakes. The sight of the sticky sweet syrup oozing down the sides of them was enough to make your mouth water.

You snuck up behind him and snaked your arms around his torso. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” you punctuated each one with a kiss to his shoulder blades and neck. “Did I tell you how grateful I am to have you in my life?”

“Only about a HUNDRED TIMES A DAY,” he turned around quickly in your arms, grabbing you under the thighs to lift you up. He clasped his arms together, forming a sort of seat in midair. You threw your arms around his shoulders and crashed your lips onto his, melting into him, his pillowy lips warm on yours.

You barely noticed that he had backed into the fridge until you felt the cool metal against your back through Bucky’s thin cotton T-shirt. You continued kissing him voraciously and suddenly remembered Tony scarfing down a Burger King cheeseburger when he had returned from his brief kidnapping in the desert.

You broke away laughing at the mental comparison you made of yourself kissing Bucky to Tony when he was starving after being in the desert.

“Whatcha laughin’ at doll?” Bucky panted, a slight smile creeping onto his lips.

“Oh, nothing,” you panted back. “Just shut up and kiss me.” You were back to business, your lips back on his, feeling like a dog deprived of its bone. Bucky opened the refrigerator door, never once breaking the kiss. You kept your eyes closed, one hand still raking through his soft hair as you used the other to grab the milk carton from the door. You secured it in your hand without faltering, then brought your hand back to rest against his shoulder blade as Bucky shut the door and walked you back over to the counter. Once you safely sat down, you pulled away, gasping for air, desperate as a fish out of water for more of him. His hands were on your hips, his name was on your lips, over and over again like your only prayer.

Bucky grabbed his mug of coffee from where he had left it in the coffee machine and brought it to where you sat, a bright smile adorning his face. You returned the grin and poured a smidge of milk into his cup. When you had first started living together, you were aghast to find that Bucky drank his coffee black without a single drop of milk or spoon of sugar. It had taken some convincing, but you were thrilled when he finally agreed to stop torturing himself and drink his coffee with milk like a normal human being. Although he still used less than a tablespoon of milk and no sugar or creamer, it was a start.

You, on the other hand, were the exact opposite, preferring matcha as your morning drink of choice, which required your mug to be 95% full of milk with the other 5% being, of course, the matcha powder, ice cubes, and copious amounts of honey to satisfy your sweet tooth.

“Oh, I heated up some water and mixed in the matcha powder for you already,” Bucky pointed at the mug beside you, his other hand still warm on your thigh.

“Thank you, bubs,” you leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. His cheeks pinked at the suddenness of it, and he ducked his head, shying away from your gaze.

“Aw, it’s nothin’,” he smiled up at you, eyes sparkling beneath his thick lashes. “Here, lemme get you some ice.”

The momentary loss of his hands on your thighs made you whine slightly, but he was back as soon as he left, ice tray in hand.

“Here you are, babycakes.”

You took the tray, beaming at him, then plunked precisely three heart-shaped ice cubes into your cup. You handed the tray back to Bucky, and he left to return it to the freezer before returning to stand between your thighs from where you sat on the countertop. You poured a generous amount of milk into your cup and reached for the honey to drizzle some in. Stirring your drink, you clinked your mug with his before taking your first sip.

You sighed reveling in the mild sweetness of your drink. It was just the way you liked it.

"Alright, doll, let's get some breakfast in you before we run today. We doing intervals or easy?"

"I actually wanted to go for a long run, Buck," you held his gaze from behind your mug.

"Cold plunge after?" he smiled already knowing your answer.

"Yes," you nodded your head vigorously, giddy at the prospect.

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amomentsescape · 5 months

Note

Thank you for replying to my question! In that case could I request a Bruce Wayne imagine. One where the reader graduated college, bought a car & is now working a lot at her job. She’s been a bit stressed bec she hasn’t taken a break. Bruce surprises her at her job once her shift ends to take her on a date. & her coworkers & friends start teasing her. Basically Bruce wants her to destress and have fun. Then he expresses how proud he is of her. Just him being a supportive and loving boyfriend.

Also if you could throw in the reader’s friends asking if Bruce bought the car & if she’s gonna quit working bec he’s rich. But she says no to both bec she wants to make her own money & work hard. (Bruce ends up hearing this & it just confirms to him how she loves him for himself and not the money)

Sorry if it’s long lol!

More Than Riches

Gotham! Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary: Even with Bruce as their partner, Reader still aims to do what they want with their life and love Bruce earnestly at the same time.

Warnings: Overall fluff with maybe one or two bad words

Word Count: 849

A/N: Thank you so much! Based on your request, I wrote it as more of a drabble since my version of an imagine usually only comes with about a paragraph of writing like this. But if you'd like a condensed version that's made into an imagine, let me know!

The past few months have become all blurred together in your mind. To be honest, you were certain that you've spent more time at work than you have at your own home.

Adulthood wasn't quite what you had expected it to be. Graduating college and jumping straight into the workforce seemed like everyone's ideal, but this meant that you hadn't gotten an opportunity to take a breather.

But you supposed this is what you signed up for. A car loan wasn't going to pay itself. But even then, there was something fulfilling about what you did. Being able to be independent on your own terms gave you a sense of security you never knew you desired.

With that being said, you still wished you had a little more time for yourself and your boyfriend.

The thought of him almost made you a little emotional. You two haven't had much quality time together recently and yet, Bruce had been nothing but supportive towards your ambitions.

He told you time and time again that if you ever needed help with anything, all you had to do was ask. It truly felt nice to have someone on your team for a change.

You looked up at the time and realized that your shift was finally over.

You sighed and wandered back to clock out and grab your things when you heard hushed whispers and giggles.

Your coworkers were all huddled together, talking to each other like they were sharing a secret.

"I can't believe- oh! (Y/N), get over here! The Bruce Wayne just walked in. I can't believe it!"

Your eyebrows furrowed together. "I thought I was supposed to see him tomorrow..." you said under your breath.

When you looked up, all eyes were on you.

"You know him?" one of your coworkers asked eagerly.

You gulped. "Well, yeah. He's my boyfriend..."

You suddenly felt hot.

Your coworkers were absolutely stunned at this.

"You're kidding. You're in a relationship with the city's rich boy?!"

You just nodded, not sure how to respond.

"Oh my God. Then why the hell are you working here? He could literally pay all of your bills and then some! I bet your car is already paid off because of him, huh?" they giggled.

You almost wanted to roll your eyes at this. You were your own person. You didn't need saving, and you didn't need the man you love paying for everything that you could have earned yourself. It just didn't feel right to you, but to each their own you supposed.

"I'm actually paying off the car myself. And why would I not want to work? I enjoy putting in this effort to support myself and see the impact I'm making. He can do what he wants with his money, and I'll do what I want with mine. Now, if you excuse me, I am going to clock out."

With that, you grabbed your bag and jacket and walked over to the entrance, finally seeing that familiar face you love so much.

The moment he caught sight of you, his eyes lit up, a soft smile spreading across his lips.

"There you are. I was starting to wonder if I came at a bad time."

He leaned down and gave you a gentle kiss on the cheek, taking your hand in his as you both exited the building.

"I'm sorry. I just wasn't expecting you today," you answered honestly.

His smile widened. "I wanted to surprise you. I know things have been busy and stressful for you recently, and I was hoping a date night would alleviate some of that."

You stopped walking and looked at him, your stomach doing a couple flips.

You just kept staring at him, taking in just how perfect he was for you. He knew how to make any bad moment better in an instant. It's like he always understood what you needed even when you didn't know it yourself.

"What is it?" he chuckled nervously, a little bit shy from your gaze.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," you responded softly.

This made his cheeks go all rosy, causing your heart to speed up. He was perfect.

"I could say the same for you," he reasoned.

His hold on your hand tightened as he pulled you into him, holding your body close to his.

"I overheard what you said back there, about me."

Now it was your turn to blush.

"Yeah?" was all you could produce.

"Yeah." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "I'm so lucky to have found someone like you. You're one of the only people I know that makes me feel seen as me, not just by my last name."

Your eyes met his at this. "Bruce, I'd love you even if you were just an average person like me."

He leaned his face a little bit closer to yours.

"You're not average, (Y/N). Not to me."

He then pressed in a little further and joined his lips with yours, kissing you like it was the first time all over again.

#bruce wayne #batman #bruce wayne x reader #gotham bruce wayne #gotham fandom #gotham x reader #gotham #batman x reader

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reflections-in-a-critical-eye · 6 months

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10 Jikook Fanfictions Part 1

I said I'd make a list before the end of the year and I kept my promise. Now, it's difficult to choose, especially when I have more than 300 bookmarks and unfortunately I also started doing that some year and a half ago. Safe to say, there's probably plenty of good fics I read that are now lost. Anyway, enough with the boring chit chat, here's 10 random jikook fics in no particular order and most likely, several other parts will follow, probably next year 😉

1. Dead in the Water

It's been a couple of years since I read this and honestly, I barely remember much, but what I do know it's that it had an impact on me. Usually fics that have death as a central theme end up resonating with me, but perhaps it's because I've always been attracted to more darker fiction. This one is gritty and there's a lot of pain and I must have cried a lot (those tend to stick in my head)

2. we're holding hands beneath the silver screen

I think this story is taking place in the 90s (you'll see that a lot of the fics I recommend are taking place in the past). I think I ended up reading everything ChimneyCricket wrote, but this one remained a favorite. Coming of age during a summer in Jeju in the 90s. Apart from the theme, it's the writing that made me stick with it.

I'm not the biggest fan of young adult stories. Or better yet, it's not something that I'd go to as a preference. When I do, it's more of an indulgence and thankfully, I found some writers (like this one) who can do a really good job with the genre.

3. Stockwell

Another writer that I've become a big fan of after reading one fic of theirs. And I think it might have been Stockwell that did it for me. I like that it's fanfiction with adult themes for an adult audience. And I also resonate with a lot of the cultural references and themes. I will also admit that this fic leaning into the enemies to lovers trope was a selling point because I'm a sucker for it. I can't help myself.

4. Burn for You

This is a complete self indulgence for me and I embrace it. Just like watching Bridgerton is a guilty pleasure for which I don't actually feel guilty (and the inspo for this fic). This story has everything and I must say the combination of lust, fear of revealing feelings, rumors, proper behavior and hidden romance is a lethal combination!

5. Light of a century

I might have recommended this story before, but it being inspired by Up on Poppy Hill is not just due to the plot, but the writing is able to evoke that studio Ghibli mood. This fic is to be read on a hot weekend afternoon.

6. Map of the Soul

This might be one of the most complex fanfictions I read due to the amount of research needed, but also in the depiction of political contexts and identity politics. Most of all, I like it because as much as relationships are a vital part of the story, there is an entire world surrounding the main characters. Events and other people that have also room to develop and not just remain props that advance the story.

7. Proceed with Caution

I don't know what snatchim did with this fic, but it's the only one I ever reread multiple times and I'll probably do it again in the future. I don't even reread books from my library, let alone fanfics. But Proceed with Caution did it for me. Perhaps it's because of the process of Jungkook inevitably falling for Jimin and even though it's a bad thing considering the context, it's so good. Maybe it's the image of Jimin with a bellybutton ring or maybe because the picture of hot Californian days in the 70s is so vivid, it feels like a nostalgic Paul Thomas Anderson movie.

8. Dishwater World They Said Was Lemonade

The description does not do this story justice because it's so much more than that. It's a canon compliant thriller with really complicated and complex characters and once again, a story meant for adults who understand that it's fiction. Unfortunately, judging by the comment section, a lot of people cannot distinguish betweem real people and characters. For those of you who might be fans of Korean thrillers, this story might be the one for you. It's also one of my favorite jikook fics as well.

9. souvlaki

Need I say more, considering the description? This is a self indulgence as well, but of a different kind. If I happily read tropey fics, I also like the ones that can sound like a uni course. Set during the 1997 FMI crisis in SK, any reader will get familiar with a socioeconomic and political perspective of that time through the eyes of the main characters. If you're only looking for romance, this one is not for you.

10. you wouldn't remember

I think littleflumes might be currently my favorite writer of canon compliant jikook. I think the author really captured their dynamic in its essence and the room left for fiction perfectly fills in the holes left in the last 2 years and up until the present. But what did it for me, not only with this story, but the others in the series as well, is that it's concentrated almost entirely on the two main characters, almost living in a bubble of their own in which their relationship can be explored.

#m thoughts #jikook #jikook fanfic #jikook fanfiction #jikook au #jikook canon compliant #fic rec #bts fanfic

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madlittlecriminal · 11 months

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Fixing Mistakes ☾ Steven Grant × Female!Reader

Request: no, but they're open for everyone i write for :)

Warnings: donna being donna, marc pops up at the end

note: this has been done a few times before, so im sorry. i just like the idea

credits to @missdictatorme since her fic titled The Shades of the Moon is about steven getting the job as a tour guide. it is smut, so don't read it unless you're 18+

He was nervous to say the least. Donna said the new owner of the museum was making an appearance since she wanted to help them with their employees. He asked Donna about it, and she shrugged. "Might lose your job, Stevie."

So here he was, a nervous wreck while cashing out a customer. Yeah, he wasn't going to lie, as much as he didn't like working in the giftshop, he did like working at the museum. Sadly, he knew that if what Donna said was true, it was because of the number of times he was late. Then it hit him.

Wasn't the owner a man?

He shook his head and began organizing the small figures of the Egyptian Gods and Goddesses when the sound of heels made him confused as he knew one of them were Donna's, but the other was different. "Stevie! This is (Y/N). Her grandfather left her the museum after he passed away." You held your hand out while glancing at his nametag and smiled. "Nice to meet you, Steven." He took your hand and shook it, feeling his heart race at the sight of you.

Hathor blessed you with beauty, there was no denying that.

You broke the handshake and scan the giftshop. When your eyes fell on the stuffed Taweret, you made a mental note to buy it before leaving. She was honestly too adorable, and you didn't care that they were meant for children. "So, I read through your file and saw that Donna here wrote a little note saying that you wanted to be a tour guide?" He gulped before nodding his head. "Yes, I still do actually." You nodded. "Donna, can you give us a minute alone? Meet me in your office." She left and you look over at Steven. While he did sport dark circles under his eyes and baggy clothing, you thought he was handsome.

"So, it's no secret that you're late. A lot. Can you explain that to me?" You grab one of the plushies and bite your lip to hide your smile. "I-I have a sleeping disorder," Steven let his eyes wander a bit, checking you out before snapping out of it quickly. You hummed at his response before looking back at him, your eyes meeting his dark brown ones. "I trust there's a reason you want to be a tour guide and I know Donna doesn't want you to have it because you hardly come on time, but can I ask why you want to be a tour guide?"

He went ahead and ranted about Egypt, telling you everything that fascinated him which left you speechless. "It's just amazing!" You smiled at him. "I love that you know so much about it, Steven, I do. I can't give you the position though because of your tardiness, you know that right?" The smile on his face faded. "Y-yeah, I know."

"However, can you tell me why Donna calls you Stevie? You two don't seem close for her to give you a nickname, right?" He snorted. "She isn't great with names." You tilt your head to the side. "Steven, J.B calls you Scotty. I would get him not being good with names because he was playing a game on his phone when I walked in. Gave him a warning and told Donna she had to be on top of him for that. You work at the giftshop, and she makes you do inventory with her. How does she not know your name? Haven't you corrected her?" He nodded.

"She's just ignorant then?" He looked down and you sighed. "You know I can't have someone like that working here. I know she wants me to fire you, but honestly, I think you can try being on time more than she could be less ignorant." He chuckled at your words and nodded. "I need you to do something for me though before I tell Donna the news of her termination." HIs eyes widened at your words as you placed the plushie on the counter. "Can you ring me out and maybe try to be on time for, let's say...a week? If so, I'll think about that promotion for you." You sent him a wink, causing him to gasp and nod frantically. "I would love that! Thank you, (Y/N)!" You grin as he handed you the plush along with the receipt after cashing you out.

"No problem, but please don't make me regret this, okay?" He ran out from behind the counter and hugged you. You were surprised, but ultimately decided to hug him back...oh man, these baggy clothes did absolutely nothing but hide the fact that he had muscles. "Thank you thank you thank you." You chuckle before pulling back from the hug with Steven and hugging Taweret. "Just please promise me you'll make the effort to come on time. You'd be a perfect addition to the tour guides." With that, you left the giftshop, making Steven fist pump the air. "Honestly, she's 1,000 times better than Donna. I'll try to make sure you get up on time for now on, okay buddy?" Steven looked at the glass counter and raised a brow at his reflection. "I think we both know she's gorgeous, mate. Do you think she'd be interested?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, buddy. I like your suggestion, but patience is a virtue."

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant #steven grant x y/n #moon knight #moon knight x reader #mister knight #marvel #mcu #marvel universe

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scribbling-dragon · 6 months

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45 and flower husbands (or maybe emberfrost/snowbugs :eyes:) for the ask game!

breath from death

summary:

“Oh, love…” the sheer agony in Scott’s voice is enough to make Tango crack his eyes open, watery from his subsequent coughing fits, tears continuing to bead up as he tries to bring Scott’s shape into focus. When he does, he almost wishes he hadn’t, having to resist the urge to recoil from the way Scott is looking at him.

(ao3 link)

(2,473 words)

hdjsk this was meant to be more angsty than it actually was,, i just made tango into a bit of a loser tbh. but! hope you enjoy the snowbugs (i can't lie the only reason i wrote them is bc i loved the name hdsjhsjk). did i see scott gift tango a heart and go a little silly? yes. yes i did

also! if you liked this and want to send in another request the list of prompts is here! i've got a lotta free time at the moment, so i'll definitely be writing stuff a lot more than i have been recently

“Ooh, Skizz really wasn’t lying, hm?”

Tango glances up at the voice, not even bothering to lean away from the bush he’s made himself a comfy spot against. Or as comfy as he can be when every part of him is in burning pain and agony. But the slight slouch he’s found himself in puts the least amount of pressure on his various injuries and maladies, and so is the most comfortable he can be right now.

“Scott,” he croaks out, wincing a little at how terrible his voice really sounds. He’d been spitting smoke earlier, angry with how much energy it was taking to simply haul himself to his feet. It’s left him with the inside of his mouth covered in ash, and his throat feeling like it’s been rubbed raw. “Good to see you could make it.”

Skizz is somewhere nearby, but not close enough to interrupt if Scott decided he wanted to put him out of his misery right here and now. He’s somewhat caught between being thankful for such a thing, and angry that he couldn’t go on any further.

He’d just be another footnote at the end of a book, another mention; a small aside, make sure to mention the one that almost dies in the most silent and insignificant ways.

He is well aware of his previous contributions to these games. He goes out with barely a sound, and the world carries on without him, continues to spin round and round, maybe a few choosing to mourn him. Be sad over the misfortune of his death, how easily such a thing could have been prevented.

He doesn’t even realise he’s breathing smoke again until Scott coughs, waving a hand in front of his face to waft the smoke away. Tango snaps his jaw shut almost immediately, muttering a quiet “sorry” when Scott continues to cough.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Rough day?”

“You could say that,” he stretches his back out, wincing as it tugs at the edges of unhealed injuries. A stray branch from within the cherry blossom bush scraping a hot line of agony across his spine. He curls inwards on himself with a hiss of pain, tears beading in his eyes at the sudden sting of all his injuries making their protests known.

The small relief from earlier, afforded to him by other servermates, swayed by Skizz’s plea for a small gift of love, a small act of mercy. A better act of mercy would be to put him out of his misery entirely, he thinks humourlessly.

“Hey, c’mon, you're just making this worse for yourself,” a hand lays over the back of his own hand, slowly encircling it before pulling it away. The movements are done with such delicacy, such gentleness, it’s as though he’s made of an extremely fragile glass. Like he’d break if the hands moved him too fast, that he’d shatter into a thousand pieces.

Maybe he would. He feels about ready to fall apart right now, anyway.

“See,” the person – Scott, it’s still Scott, he’s still here, Tango realises belatedly – breathes, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s much better. Now, where has your teammate gotten off to?”

“He, agh,” he coughs again, a small curl of smoke rolling off his tongue as he hacks, one or both his lungs threatening to make an appearance as he doubles over again, stomach cramping with the force of his coughs. “He went to get some resources, something to better survive the next few hours.”

“He didn’t stay with you?”

“The idiot would have,” he scoffs, laughing slightly. He then has to cough again, appreciating Scott’s gentle stroking over the top of his shoulders. He’s nowhere near as warm as Tango himself is, the fire stoked within his core happily blazing away, despite the disrepair of the rest of his body. “I made him leave. I’m dead either way. My death will be nothing to gasp and cry over, better he’s not around when it does happen.”

When he does, he almost wishes he hadn’t, having to resist the urge to recoil from the way Scott is looking at him. His hand is still lying over the top of Tango’s shoulders gently, though no longer stroking to soothe him through a coughing fit.

When Scott had turned up, looking down at him with those gleaming red eyes. Eyes that herald violence, promise it, Tango had willingly accepted his death. Would probably have stretched his arms out and taunted Scott for coming after someone when their guard is so far down that it’s ripped to shreds if even twitching his arms didn’t hurt so badly.

And then he’d just…stood there, crouched in front of him and comforted him as he coughed.

It’s his own fault that his lungs are in such a sorry state, anger over everything about these damn games making his flame burn too hot too quickly. He usually has better control over it, breathes fire for a party trick sometimes, not to clog his lungs with ash. Still, Scott had provided the comfort happily, despite them being on rival teams now, people that should be looking to kill each other. Not make sure that he can breathe and is comfortable and that his ally hasn’t abandoned him.

“Every death is worth shedding at least a tear over,” Scott tells him. His hands have migrated from his shoulders to cradling the back of his neck, now kneeling in front of him instead of crouching. Tango almost wants to tell him that he’ll stain his jeans with grass and mud; they may already be wrecked beyond repair, ripped in ways that aren’t purposeful and stained with old blood, but the thought still crosses his mind. “You’ve built good alliances here, love, there will be several tears shed over your death.”

“And a few oh, poor Tango, what a terrible way to go!’s following behind it,” he snorts without humour, only sparing a moment to be relieved when it doesn’t catapult him into another coughing fit. “The same way it goes every time,” he finishes, slightly bitter. It brings a sour taste to his mouth to think about his previous failures. His previous embarrassments.

He’s jolted from his self-pity party when Scott’s fingers twitch over the nape of his neck, making his efforts to ignore how Scott’s hands are currently resting against the back of his neck null and void. His efforts to ignore how the hands reach far enough round that Scott could easily strangle him. Could simply wrap tight and squeeze the last drops of life from him. Scott would definitely benefit from it, numerous superficial injuries littering his body that he’d probably be relieved to get rid of.

But Scott doesn’t grip to his neck tighter, doesn’t shove him to the ground and crush his windpipe. His hands remain a heavy, almost comforting, weight at the back of his neck. Their faces are close like this, he realises belatedly, the intimacy of such a thing settling over him suddenly and heavily. Like a weighted blanket’s just been chucked on his head. He feels a little unbalanced by such a realisation, even as close to death’s door as he currently is.

It makes an odd feeling wash over him, only increasing as Scott moves his hands, fingers tickling the short furs at the back of his neck. Can feel the way Scott’s thumb brushes over his pulse point – stupid, doesn’t he know that the thumb has a pulse? That you can’t measure someone else’s heartbeat with your thumb, as your own racing heart will interfere?

Scott’s pinky fingers ghost over his jaw as his hands retreat, and tango almost makes a pitiful sound in the back of his throat when he thinks Scott’s pulling away from him.

He’s glad he didn’t (really, really glad) when Scott’s hands still again, settling over his jaw, cradling his face gently between his palms.

He really is quite close now, close enough that Tango can take in the smudged state of his make-up, like Scott’s been rubbing his eyes and smearing it around the corners of his eyes. Or that he’s not reapplied it recently and he’s simply been wearing the same make-up for the past few days.

He’d given up on the stupid pink eyeliner and little hearts he’d draw on his own and the others’ faces ages ago, tired of reapplying it every morning, wasting precious time that could be spent doing other things. More important things.

Scott’s make-up still looks good, though, smudged the way it is.

“I’ve always noticed when you died,” Scott tells him. This close, he can see the pink flecks in Scott’s eyes. They almost match the shirt he chose to wear for this go-around, wanting to fit better with the whole vibe they had going on at the Heart Foundation prior to its burning. “Kinda hard not to, when you're checking your comm every few minutes and hoping it’s not one of your allies that’s just died.”

“Oh,” he says, maybe a little dumbly. So sue him! He’s not sure what to say to a man very close to his face, still looking pretty despite his smudged make-up, when he gets told that he always notices him.

Yeah, some snide part of his brain comments, always notices when you make a fool of yourself and die in the most humiliating way possible.

“Oh,” Scott repeats, snickering a little. It makes his shoulders shake, meaning Tango’s face is wobbling a little because Scott’s still holding his face, cradling him carefully like he’s some delicate thing to be treasured.

Man, he’s glad Skizz hasn’t made a reappearance yet. He’s not sure how he’d explain his current everything to him with a straight face. Skizz would probably laugh at him until he cries.

“What else do you want me to say to that!” he protests, a little embarrassed at his slightly lacklustre response. “Thanks, I notice every time you die too – I'm always dead at that point! I can’t notice.”

“No, no,” Scott shakes his head, brushing one of his thumbs over the paper-thin skin beneath his eye. The motion makes him shiver, something weird, but not unfamiliar or unwelcome, curl down and around his spine. He shudders again. “I’m just teasing you, love, promise.” His eyes twinkle with mirth, “Would you believe me if I told you I came here with kind intentions?”

“Not at all,” Tango says, half-joking. “You’ve only been mean to me so far.”

“Aw, I'm hurt!” Scott cries, eyes crinkling as he grins. “I saw Skizz’s, uh, plea for help on your behalf and thought I might as well pop over and give you a little boost.”

“Oh, really?” He perks up at that. A few people have been by already, each giving him a small boost. To think he was in an even worse state as the sun rose that morning is somewhat horrifying to think about. It’s a miracle he even managed to have a coherent conversation with Skizz as their day began. “Well, c’mon then! Don't leave poor ol’ me waiting.”

“Okay, okay,” Scott laughs again, a little quieter. “God, you tell someone you're about to give them something, and it’s all they can think about.”

“All I can think about is how much pain I'm currently in,” Tango jokes.

He realises that the joke didn’t quite land as he intended when Scott’s face doesn’t continue to crease with smile lines, instead dropping into something sadder. “Well,” he says confidently, “I can fix that real quick for you, love.”

And then Scott’s leaning and Tango’s floundering, because, sure, he’s kissed people before. For definite. Kissed people plenty of times, actually! But he never quite knows what to do with his hands, nevermind the fact that he can barely even lift his hands right now.

Scott seems comfortable taking the initiative, giving him a chaste peck on the lips, warm hands continuing to cradle his face gently, before pulling back just as quickly as he’d moved in.

“There,” he says, sounding satisfied. “All better?”

“I – yeah. Thanks,” he manages. He mentally fist pumps when his voice doesn’t wobble and he doesn’t immediately chase after Scott with significantly less achy limbs than a few moments before. “That’s really appreciated, thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Scott says, wiping a little around his bottom lip, clearing away some of the smudged make-up there. “Always glad to help!” He chirps, then stands. “Well, I’ll be seeing you around, hopefully not at the other end of my sword!”

“Hopefully not,” Tango agrees. Really hopefully not because he’ll probably just stand there like an idiot and think about how soft Scott’s lips are, and the way they’d slotted against his own, and-

The clearing of a throat above him has him blinking his eyes open, squinting a little at the figure silhouetted by the sun.

“See you had a little visitor,” Skizz tells him, sounding far too smug for someone that probably only saw Scott walk away. Tango’s sheltered where he sits, so even if Skizz was on his way back while…all that happened, there’s no way he actually saw anything.

“I- what? Oh, Scott, yeah. He gave me a heart.”

“See he gave you a little something else, too.”

What?

“What?” He asks, sitting up slightly, hissing under his breath as his cracked ribs forcefully remind him that they're still cracked. “What d’you mean?”

“You got a little something,” Skizz says, “around here.”

And gestures around his mouth.

Tango wipes at his lip with his thumb, cringing when it comes away stained with make-up. Make-up that everyone has seen Scott wearing recently.

“Oh, wow, haha,” he laughs, not at all amused. “How’d that get there.”

“How indeed,” Skizz says, obviously already knowing, the dick. “Maybe we should ask the whole server, see if they can help us solve this mystery.”

“No!” Tango throws himself upwards as Skizz goes to retrieve his comm, smacking his hands away frantically. “No, no, I'm sure we can figure this out ourselves.”

“Oh, yeah. I'm sure we can.” Skizz says, and walks off. Still grinning.

Tango collapses back down to the ground, indulging his moment of dramatism even as it aggravates a few minor wounds.

Whatever shitty higher being watches over me now, he pleads, please strike me down before he comes back.

The shitty higher being watching over him decidedly does not strike him down, and Skizz comes back to laugh him again, though he brings a make-up wipe with him…maybe Tango can find it in his heart to forgive him. Eventually.

#juno.writes #asks #wren-kitchens #ask game #trafficshipping #snowbugs #emberfrost #scott smajor #tangotek #secret life smp #secret life spoilers #(slightly)#slsmp #secret life scott #secret life tango #traffic series #trafficblr #traffic smp

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friendlybowlofsoup · 9 months

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Another Update

Hello Friends,

I have a rather long (but optimistic!) update to share with you all today. As many of you are probably tired of reading these kind of posts, I have a TL;DR here, but I did want to share what has been on my mind in that past half-year that I haven't been here.

It has been rough, and busy as always, but I think I'm finally facing myself and my project for the first time in a very long time.

TL;DR (it's actually long, I have a lot to say (*_ _)人)

I soul-searched and decided to stop compromising on my own feelings with regards to this project. I gave in to everything I wanted to do.

Plot changes, which means some character changes, which means some of the demo is outdated.

GotRM will be switching over to Twine.

----

OH MAN DID I SUFFER THE LAST FEW MONTHS

After my previous update, I hunkered down and really analyzed how I wanted to proceed with GotRM as a project. Because even prior to that post, I had already been going through long periods of hiatuses (which you are all aware of), and while I didn't lie about school taking up my time, I was also harboring a growing dissatisfaction with my own writing that really killed my progress for a long time.

So after everything had settled, I sat down and forced myself to peel apart my work. I know I said I would answer asks, but I uninstalled all of my social media and put aside this blog to focus. I made a note of all the things I liked and didn't like, and I made a list of things I wanted to change or improve on. The biggest point was that I also looked at my efficiency during actual writing sessions: how much of my time was spent writing vs. fighting with code? How could I change that?

And after a lot of deliberation, I figured there were a few things I had to change from the ground up, summed up in four points:

My working style was super incompatible with grad school. I can't spend 20-30 minutes scrolling up and down CSIDE checking code or looking for narratives while also jumping between chapters to make sure events line up. As this story grows, the more difficult it becomes to keep track of all the branches, so I needed an alternative working method, which I am adhering to now, and it prioritizes efficiency.

I hated the way I was tracking and coding stats in-game. I have griped so much about coding stats, and I have adhered to such a rigid style that I really felt trapped whenever I was confronted with balancing them out. So I'm throwing that to the wind and redoing how I utilize and convey them. Player-side, this decision doesn't change much since I never fully utilized stats in the demo anyway, and the stats page with indicators will still exist, but I'm getting rid of stat bars and how I treat stat checks.

The story I want to write now is different from the one I started out with. I've known for a while that GotRM was becoming far more than the tiny, wishful novella that I wrote as a teenager. I held onto that old story for a long time, but there's just so much I want to change that I realized I'd been clinging to a story I no longer enjoyed writing. So I spent the majority of the last few months rewriting GotRM from scratch. I redid some worldbuilding, I changed a lot of plot points, and I fixed a lot of characters' backstories accordingly. This meant scrapping stuff from even the demo, but that turned out to not be the biggest issue because:

I wanted to branch away from ChoiceScript. Honestly, I never really cared about getting officially published, but the camaraderie in the forums and on Tumblr were why I committed to CS and CoG. However, ultimately, I really want the functionality that other tools can offer GotRM, and so after a long internal debate, I will be switching over to Twine. Fortunately, since I was rewriting everything anyways, this has been relatively painless, and passage mapping has made everything so much neater. I am trying my best to make it up to chapter 2 before I release the new demo, so please look forwards to that!

And so yes, I am still here, chugging along.

I love this game and this story: it's been my creative escape for as long as I could remember, and you can imagine how frustrated I was when I realized I was starting to dread working on it.

I am forever learning more about myself and my writing style, and this is simply more of that journey. Thank you everyone for sticking around, for joining the discord, and for checking up on me--that I have all of you has truly been a dream.

Hopefully more updates to come soon! I understand that there may be questions about these new changes, so please ask away! I will (try) to release some asks that I've been working on in the drafts too, but I will wait until at least tomorrow to release them so that this post doesn't get drowned out immediately.

And as always, with a lot of love,

FriendlyBowlofSoup (Mei)

#writing update

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romanestuffsposts · 8 months

Note

hi love💕 could you write one where the little reader is very clingy on a day that the stucky daddies have to go to a meeting at the complex? so they leave her with other little ones but she doesn't want to be with anyone but them? a little anguish and a lot of cuteness?❤️

Hi there love! 💜

Thank you so much for this lovely request! I'm absolutly in love with this! ❤️

I hope you're not too mad that it took me so long to write it and i hope you like how i wrote it

Enjoy <33

****

Warnings : cuteness, clingy little reader, a little bit of angst, fluff, pet names, comfort, kisses, cuddles

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : you don't want to be alone

****

Since this morning you always had a hand on one of your Daddies or they had a hand on you. You hadn't spent one second away from them.

They didn't know why but they could feel you needed to be against them all day. And of course they would never complain. They love it when you're all clingy with them and when you needed them.

You always need them of course but some days you show it more.

"I'll have to go to the bathroom, princess" your Papa gently whispers in your ear as he's laying on the couch with you curled up on his chest. It's been almost an hour now that you're laying like this and you had attempted to stay like this since bedtime.

You whine and shake your head "noo" Your Papa sighs and looks at Bucky who's sitting on the other side of the couch. He wanted to sit on the other couch so you won't be too tight against each other but you clearly show him your disagreement about that.

So he didn't had the choice but to sit near you. You would lose your mind if your skin wasn't touching the both of them whenever you can. That's why your toes are touching your Daddy's thigh.

"you can go on Daddy's laps during that time. And when I come back you can come back on my chest. How does that sound ?" he gently play with your hair

You shake your head again, letting out an upset moan "No-o"

Steve sighs again "then you'll have to come with me to the bathroom because i'm not gonna hold on longer than that" He secured you in his arms as he stand up before you can even say something.

He hummes a sweet song as he walks to the toilet, helping you relax against him.

But before he can even open the door, he hears Bucky's voice calling him. He then hears footsteps and soon after, Bucky was running toward him "Fury called" he says

Your face fell, you knew what that meant and you weren't happy about that.

"we have a meeting in twenty minutes. It's really important apparentely but i don't have further details" He adds.

Steve nods "alright, take her and dress her so she's ready while i go to the toilet and get ready myself" he hands you to Bucky, ignoring your whining.

Bucky lets Steve alone to do his business and walks upstairs with you in his arms "how do you wanna dress today ?" he asks with a smile. He knows you always love dressing nicely and looking all pretty whenever you go at the tower. You always want to make a good impression to your Daddies's friends and yours too.

But you don't answer him. You don't want to go to the tower, you don't want to be apart from your Daddies, you don't want to sit around in a playroom that wasn't yours and wait for hours to see your Daddies again.

"baby ?" he gently calls when you don't answer "if you don't answer me then i'll have to chose and i don't know if you'll like what i chose for you" he warns, teasing you a little.

You pull your head away from his neck, an upset look on your face and your eyes on the edge of crying "oh my sweet girl" he breathes out, caressing your cheek with his thumb "tell me what's wrong, baby"

'wanna stay here" you sniff "wanna be wis you" you hid your face back in his neck, a little ashamed of being like that. You know it's important what they have to do and you shouldn't be like that when it's with their work but you can't help it.

"look at me beautiful" your Daddy gently asks as he rubs your back. It took you a moment but you finally move your head from his neck and peer up at him, through wet eyelashes

"you spent the whole day with us, we only ask you to play with your friends for- maybe an hour or two, and then you'll be back in our arms for the rest of the day and during the night" his forehead falls into yours "i promise you"

"no pease" you cry as you hid your face back in his neck.

"baby listen" he takes your chin in his fingers and lifts your head "imagine how excited you'll be when we'll come back to you and all the hapiness you'll feel once you'll be back in our arms, as if you never left them"

You don't really have a choice, do you ?

It's been two hours now that your Daddies entered the big room and left you with your friends. At first you played with them but after some minutes, you distanted yourself and curled into a corner of the room.

You watched your friends laughing and being happy, having fun while playing together while all you wanted to do was crying because you miss them too much.

How could they not miss their Daddies and mummies ? How can they laugh while they're in a few rooms away instead of being with them ?

You don't understand how they can act like that. All you want to do is climbing on your Daddy's arms, resting your precious little head against his chest or in his neck while holding the hand of your Papa really tightly in yours.

"princess ?"

You lift your head and throuhg your cloud eyes, you spot your Papa, kneeled in front of you with a loving smile on his gorgeous face. You don't say anything, but you do move.

You crawl to him and wrap your arms around his neck, you wrap yourself around him like a koala. He chuckles and wraps his arms around you to secure you before standing up.

"did you had fun, little one ?" you hear your Daddy asking beside you. You hold your Papa tighter and shake your head. You take a deep breath through your nose and finally feel at home again at the sent of your Papa's perfum.

"let's go home then, it'll make it feel better" Your Papa strokes your back with his hands as they leave the tower. They anticipated how you'll react and already said their goodbyes to everyone in the meeting room.

Now they just have to drive back home and spend the evening cuddling you in the couch or in the bed, like you wanted from the start.

When you arrive at home, your Daddy had hesitate to propose you a bath -with them beside you of course, but decide to not say anything. You won't die if you don't have a shower today.

Instead, they immediately went upstairs, they changed you into your new and comfy pyjama and tuck you under the cover. They didn't lose a time and came under the cover to hold you close against them.

"close your eyes, sweetie" your Papa whispers, his lips against your forehead, his fingers brushing your hair backward "we're not moving. You'l be in our arms during the entire night, don't worry. We've got you"

"sleep well, little one. Have a great time in dreamland" your Daddy kisses your cheek "see you in a bit"

"we love you"

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almostloosingit · 2 years

Note

Hi how are youuuu?

I wanted to request Rindou x reader when Bonten’s prostitue came to building and she recognized reader as ex mafia member (boss you decide) but nobody in Bonten knew that, they were like “HER!!??” they were like that because she is so innocent in front of them. Rindou and here are married and he did knew that.

Thank youu

Of course! I hope you like it!

—————————————————————————————————

Her

Rindou

I wrote this while listening to:

Female reader

Cw: Child

You were already with Rindou when your boss died. Now a lot of people thought that you would take that opportunity and take over the responsibility of the boss. You didn’t. You had a meeting with others where you announced that you will be leaving. Were they surprised? No. They knew you wanted to start a family with your partner so they didn’t question your decision. And that's how you left your old life behind, ready to begin a new chapter of your life.

Did Rindou know about that? Yes. You see, your `organization` wasn’t something Bonten worried about. So that's why the information was kept between you two.

“Thank you,Y/N” said Kakucho while taking the cup of tea you handed him. “You're very generous to let us visit so often.”

“Oh don’t be silly Kakucho, it's my pleasure .” You said with a kind smile. You meant it. Your lovers' friends/ coworkers were also dear to your heart. As much as you love and trust Rindou you know that he got his ass saved by them multiple times. “It’s the least I can do to thank you guys for keeping Rin safe.”

“How did he get such a loving and innocent woman to be with him?” Mochi asked.

“Y/N, my love, did my lovely brother pay you to marry him? Or maybe threaten you?” Ran asked with a slick smile.

“You’re fucking delusional.” Scoffed Rindou while walking into the living room with your two year old.

“Sweetheart language around the little one.” You said with a smile yet disappointed look. His eyes grow big for a second.

“Right, my bad.” He responded in a calm voice. Even though you're the most soft hearted person alive, you're also the toughest woman he knows. That’s why when you told him that you were pregnant he was the happiest person alive. Of course more security was added around your house because you can never be too careful, right?

“She’s two how the fuck is she gonna understand.” The second Saznu said that everyone in the room gave him a death stare. “Oh come on.”

“Sanzu, you see Rai is two years old, she might not be able to speak fully yet, but that doesn’t mean she can't learn words or copy them. Believe it or not I prefer not to have my little girl going around swearing at this age. So if you are so kind and respect that.” You said with the sweetest smile. He felt stupid.

“I see, my bad. I will try my best.” How can he be mean to such a pure soul?

“I’m glad.” You responded. “Well then I will bring the food.”

“Do you need some help?” Your husband asked.

“Oh don’t worry I can do it by myself. You guys relax after work.” And with that you left to bring the food.

“So.. Did you pay her?”

“Ran I swear-”

“Rin’s wife is the sweetest person ever”

Is what people say.

“Y/N so nice! How did she end up with Rindou?”

That’s what they say because they don’t know.

But he knows. That’s why he absolutely loves you and knows that you can protect yourself if he’s not there. That's why he married you. Does he still worry? Yes but less than he would with a person who never tasted his type of life.

Would people believe you if you told them about you being in the mafia back in the day? No. I mean come on here you were holding your 2 year old daughter Rai who’s sitting on your hip with your hand around her, while her dad is not picking up the phone.

“For the love of god where is he?” You looked at your phone. It’s rare that your husband doesn’t pick up the phone from you. “I swear to god if this man-“

Ding

You did get a message from Haitani, not the one you wanted but close.

It was a selfie from his older brother Ran who was smiling wide with bored Rin in the back who was sitting side wise, from the camera he clearly didn’t notice, while Sanzu was posing for the photo behind Rin.

Oh for fuck sake you though to yourself. He could have told you he’s going out with the Bonten tonight. If you knew you would have your daughters favorite food cooking not his.

[You] Could you tell my lovely husband to answer his calls?

[Ran] You see, I would…but his phone is dead<3

[You] Not to sound rude but like does none of the exclusive Bonten members have a phone charger or a power bank?

[Ran] No..?

You giggled at the message.

[You] Oh you boys are build different❤️

[You] Is he drunk?

[Ran] Tipsy, but not really.

[Ran] He ain’t interested in any girls 😐

[You] Yeah I would hope so🥲

[Ran] Could you be a darling and pick him up? We all love you but he can't shut up about how much he loves you and my lovely niece❤️

[You] Of course , just send me the address :)

And here you were in sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a long black coat on and with your child on your hip that had sound proof headphones on and a bunny coat on, in the most expensive club in Japan. Everyone was dressed so revealingly and so flashy. As you walked through the people to get into the VIP section you saw some women coming in and out of that section. Oh? Now were you aware that Bonten invited strippers? Yes. Could Ran send them out even for a few minutes because he knew you were bringing Rai? Yes. Did he? No. You will have some kind words with him later for now you need to get your lovely husband.

The second you walk in you cover your child’s eyes. A stripper was trying to get the attention of your husband while he was clearly uninterested.

“Ehem” you made yourself known.

The stripper turned around confused. And the second she did her face went white.

She sure seems familiar.

“Y/n ma’am, what are you doing here?” She seems scared. While Rin peaked his head from behind her. The second he saw you the biggest smile appeared on his face. He opened his arms and so did his daughter at the sight of him. You put Rai down so she can go to her dad.

“I came to pick up my husband.” You gave her a relaxed smile. “ Do I know you by any chance? What's your name?”

“Yuko ma’am! I used to work under Eada, ma'am.” She announced. Her posture was the same you would see in the military.

“Ahh Eada’s team.” You sigh. “Haven’t spoken to her in a while, but I heard she proposed to her girlfriend. Oh don’t look so stiff, love relax”

“Sorry to interrupt your little reunion but how the fu- '' Sanzu looked at your daughter who was playing with her dad’s hair. “Flip.. do you guys know each other?”

“Old days when I was doing mafia related things.” You shrug off.

“Ma’am you were the second to the boss! People like me could only dream to work under you, to even only see you.” The woman said. Her eyes now fill with admiration like she just met her favorite celebrity.

“Oh you speak too kindly of me, but thank you. I’m glad to see you doing well.” You pat her on the shoulder. “When you see me do tell me if anyone courses you or anyone else who works here, any problems. I will make sure that the ‘problem’ will be taken care of, right?” You look over to the men that were sitting on the couch, clearly confused.

“I’m sorry.” Ran says confused. “You used to do what, Y/N?”

“I used to be in the mafia.” You said with such an innocent voice.

“Rindou, did you know about this?” Koko asked.

“Of course I did! I'm married to her, you idiot!” He said while smiling at his daughter.

“And you never thought about telling us that the lovely wife of yours used to be in the mafia?”

“No? Why would I? When was that relevant?” He answered confused.

The members were shocked. You? Y/N? The most calm, loving, innocent and caring person on this earth used to be in the mafia?!

“This is a joke right?” Kakucho asked.

“No.” You answered with a calm voice.

They know you wouldn’t lie about something like that. Why would you?

The silence is broken by little Rai.

“Papa food! I’m hungry!” Little girl announced.

“Well you hear the princess! Home time!” Rin said while standing up with Rai in his arms on his way to leave the VIP room.

“It was nice seeing you all.” You said. The second you turned around to leave you heard.

“Ma’am!” You turned around to face Yuko. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know he was your husband.”

“Oh don’t worry! How could you possibly know?” You gave her a smile. “Stay safe, love” You said with a smile and then were on your way to the exit. After putting Rai safely in the back of the car, Rindou sat in the front passenger seat.

“I love you, you know that, right? I’m all yours.” Rin said.

“I know that sweetheart and I love you too.” You said and leaned to give him a kiss. “Ran, sent me a photo of you being bored out of your mind and said that you weren’t interested in any girls. Also we need to buy you a power bank.” Rin smiled.

“Of course, love.” He was truly lucky.

Yuko turned around to face the men that were too lost for words.

“Do you have any pictures of Y/N from the mafia time?” Kaku asked.

“Ah of course!” She said then when to get her phone. When she came back she had the photo ready. “ This is Y/N and Eada.”

In the photo there were two young women.The photo was showing them from waist up. One had short, black hair, a small smile on her face and a cigarette in her hand and next to her. You. You were smiling with your tongue out and your eyes wide open with one hand doing the peace sign while the other arm was hanging around Eada’s neck. Two things in common. You were both wearing suits and you were both covered in blood, you more than Eada.

“THAT’S HER?!”

#tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokrev rindou #rindou haitani x reader #rindou x y/n #bonten rindou #tr rindou #rindou x you #tokyo revengers rindou

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joels-shitty-puns · 6 months

Text

The Key To Your Heart - Track 10

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Alluding to sexual scenarios. Kissing. Panic/Anxiety Attack. Fat shaming, name calling. Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f). Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 6.6k

Series List: Here!

Miss Track 9? Here!

Hi!!!! Once again I want to apologize for taking so long with this. I can't seem to ever stay awake to do anything. That being said, here it is! This is the last main chapter of our little lovebirds. There will be at least one, likely two bonus tracks coming soon though :) Also there's a smidge of Spanish in here from Pedro, but the translation is included in the end of the sentence. I took some Spanish classes back in the day but I don't speak it and had to use Google translate. So if it ISN'T right and you do speak Spanish, please let me know lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy these little cuties on their first date. There's a lot, a lot, a lot of kissing in here (sorry...) and overall they're just grossly in love lol. Please let me know what you think, and if you've seriously read this far, I LOVE YOU! This is my first series, and honestly my first fic other than the one I wrote in my diary lmao. Like the reader, I am incredibly inexperienced so writing a relationship has been a bit of a challenge and half the time I don't believe the actual words I'm writing. But I really only started writing it as a way to write down my daydreams :) So to have support means the world to me, and hearing people comment/DM me saying how much they relate has meant so much and makes me feel a lot less alone, because ultimately, it doesn't matter how fictional it is, most of reader's feelings are my own. To anyone else in the same boat, I get you! Hang in there. I think there's a Pedro out there for us all. Someday. Anywho, pardon my ramble. Thank you for reading, I hope you like it. ❤

The next morning, you woke up and stretched your limbs, rolling over in your comfortable bed as the sunshine poured in through the window. At the shuffling of your body, Skipper groaned, wiggling a little in bed, nearly shoving you off the edge. You reached for your phone, blinking through your sleep a couple times before seeing a text from Pedro. “Good morning beautiful! I can't wait for our date today. I was thinking maybe we could start around 2:30 and spend the day together, if you'd like. But if that's too much, we can just make it a dinner date. Up to you which you would prefer. I understand either way. Love you ❤️”

He wants to spend the whole day with me!? And he sent me a good morning text and called me beautiful? Then signed it with a heart and love you?!!!! How did I get this man?

Your grin eclipsed your face, making you squint. If Mr. Grumpybutt weren't sharing the bed with you, you'd probably squeal and kick your feet. Tapping your phone screen, you typed out a reply. “Morning handsome ❤️ I would love nothing more than to spend the day with you. I love you too!” You sent the message before crawling out of bed gently, receiving a dirty look from Skip.

“Alright Grump. Go back to bed. Geez,” you laughed. If looks could kill, you thought. He turned back on his side, letting out a grumble and sigh, resulting in a laugh from you. Acts like he pays rent and works 40 hours a week…

You took a relaxing shower, making sure to be all nice and fresh for your date with the man of your dreams. While brushing your teeth, you noticed he had replied. “Great, I can't wait. I'll be at your place at 2:30. :)”

“Can't wait to see you. What do you have planned? I'm wondering how to dress.”

“Wear whatever you feel good in, baby. I'm sure you'll look amazing. Probably something casual you can walk around comfortably in for the day. Maybe something a little dressier for the evening, but you don't need to carry it around. We will make a stop at your place before and you can change”

Wow he really has this planned out.

“What have you got planned, P? This sounds elaborate. You know you don't need to put in all that effort, I'm already yours ❤️”

“You deserve the world, my love.”

Dressed in a pair of leggings and a light sweater, you felt reasonably cute while still being comfortable for whatever activity Pedro had in mind. Plus, with the crisp November air, you would be nice and warm. You were just finishing tying your sneakers when your doorbell rang.

You opened the door to find your handsome boyfriend standing on your step, a bouquet of red roses in his hand. “Mi amor,” he handed you the roses, kissing your cheek and hand. “Thank you Pedro,” your cheeks heated. “Come in,” you pulled his hand across the doorway towards the living room. Skipper pushed past you to investigate, causing Pedro to drop your hand.

“Well there he is! That handsome boy!” Skipper’s tail wagged and his butt wiggled as Pedro crouched to give ear scratches. “Oh, I love you too,” Pedro answered when Skip kissed his face frantically. A fit of giggles erupted from Pedro, making your heart swell with joy. He has the cutest laugh, and the fact that your dog is causing it was surreal.

“You're just a beautiful boy! Aren't you?! Hermoso, igual que tu mamá,” he held Skipper’s face, kissing his nose. (Beautiful, just like your mama)

Your chest was filled with butterflies. Holy shit, he's charming. “Thank you, Pedro,” you said in a whisper, not even sure if he would hear. Turning his head from your dog, Pedro looked up at you, giving you a gentle smile; but the eye contact was quickly torn away when Skipper pressed a needy paw to Pedro's chest. Both of you now giggling, Pedro continued to pet Skipper, stopping to give him a hug and some more nose kisses.

“Alright. I gotta ask…” you prompted, causing Pedro to turn his head towards you again. “Are you just dating me to hang out with my dog?” You smirked.

Pedro turned back to Skipper, speaking in a low voice. “She's catching on to us buddy. We've been made.” You burst out laughing, Skipper looking over at you as if his plan really had been foiled.

Pedro gave a final pat on Skipper’s head before standing and walking over to you. “Nonsense,” he pecked a kiss to your lips. “I do love that sweet boy of yours,” he replied before turning his face to whisper in your ear. “But I'm absolutely enamored with you, Mamacita.” The hair on your neck stood as a chill rushed down your spine. You bit your lower lip, and he stared back into your eyes, leaning in for a passionate kiss.

“You look beautiful,” he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“You look rather handsome, yourself,” you replied. His hair was brushed back and to the side, his curls neatly swept and threatening to break free around his face. You wondered whether he asked for help to make his hair look extra nice for your date or if he styled it himself.

Running your fingertips over his patched salt and pepper beard, your hands found the small heart shaped patches near his chin. You brushed your thumb over his jaw before leaning in to press a kiss on the bare skin, causing his eyes to close as he let out a sigh. The whiskers tickled your cheeks as you continued kissing up his jawline, back across his cheek, and on his nose before pulling away to look into his eyes.

He opted to not wear glasses today, allowing you a closer look into his deep brown eyes which were softening under your gaze. “You ready to go, baby?” He asked you, his hand on your hip as he rubbed circles with his thumb.

“Absolutely,” you smiled. He wore a pair of dark jeans, tennis shoes, and a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearm. He looked absolutely… incredible.

While you were grabbing your bag, he grabbed Skipper's leash. “Is Skipper coming too?” You asked, confused.

Skipper was twirling now, impatient to go somewhere.

“Sure is! Couldn't leave him out. But don't worry, you and I will have the night to ourselves,” he winked.

You looked downward, feeling shy and flushed. “Okay,” you giggled, clipping Skip to his leash and heading for the door.

“Do you want to take my car? You'll get dog hair and slobber in yours,” you offer.

“I don't mind! I love dogs,” Pedro replied, opening the door for Skipper to climb in the back seat. After closing the door, he opened the passenger door for you. Such a gentleman, you thought with a sigh, getting in and thanking him.

As the car sped along, you looked over at your boyfriend driving the car. Boyfriend! That'll never get old… you thought to yourself. The air conditioning blew the few loose strands of hair on the top of his head, and his left hand gripped the wheel, making the veins on his hand prominent. With his right hand, he reached over, holding your left in his, resting on top of your thigh.

He really did look beautiful. You couldn't help but stare at him as he expertly drove the car, hand flexing as he turned the wheel. His mouth pursed and he licked his lips, his tongue slowly jutting out to wet them.

Damn, I want those lips on mine. That tongue in my mouth, you thought, feeling rather warm, despite the air conditioning swirling around the car.

“So where are we spending the day?” You asked, trying to quiet the flames of attraction licking at your pulse.

“It's a surprise! But we're almost there,” he answered, rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand.

Pedro looked in the side mirror and laughed. “Babe, look at Skipper.”

You looked to see him with his head out the window, ears and lips blown back with the wind, his tongue lolled out to the side and blowing with the speed of the vehicle.

You both chuckled before you warned him, “your car is going to be covered in slobbers, Pedro!” He gave another quick look to Skipper before replying. “That's okay. It'll help me remember this day until I wash it again,” he looked over at you and smiled. It felt so natural. So… domestic, the two of you sitting in the car, going on a date, him holding your hand while driving, and the two of you laughing at your dog in the back seat. It was just perfect. Everything you dreamed.

He wasn't joking when he said you were almost there. It was only about five more minutes until the car pulled into the parking lot of the dog-friendly beach.

Stepping out of the vehicle, you took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar smell of salty sea air and hearing the chatter of gulls. The breeze blew your hair gently, but the day was relatively warm for November.

After the three of you exited the car, Pedro opened the trunk, pulling out a large picnic basket and tote bag. “You really came prepared, didn't you? Pedro, this is really special. Thank you.” Your eyes felt teary and the smile you held was genuine. Nobody has ever put this much effort into anything for you. Other than him.

“You don't need to thank me. I want you to be happy and I want the three of us to have a nice day,” he added, pecking your lips.

“Wait.. Pedro,” you frowned. “It looks kind of crowded. Should I be nervous about paparazzi or anything?” Your stomach bubbled with nervous energy.

“Don't worry, sweetheart. Celebs come here all the time. I've come here before. If they do, they might take pictures, but usually it's pretty low-key here. Try not to worry too much. I want you to have a nice time,” he squeezed your hand affectionately.

“Okay. I trust you,” you smiled at him as the three of you walked towards the sand, finding a nice place to picnic. Pedro unpacked, laying down a large blanket before setting up the spread of sandwiches, veggies, and fruit. He offered you a cold drink from the basket and the two of you sat, using a metal stake to secure Skipper’s leash near your blanket. He flopped onto his side, content to be sunbathing with some of his favorite people.

The lunch consisted of peaceful conversations and laughter, learning more about each other despite having talked for several months now. It seemed you could never run out of conversation topics. But even in the quiet moments, it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt relaxing. You were both content being able to sit together in silence and just enjoy each other's company.

After your meal, you packed up the basket and headed for the car again to put the things away, opting for a walk unburdened by carrying items across the sand. Neither of you brought a swimsuit today, but despite the California sun, it was still November, and the Pacific ocean was never really warm, even in the middle of summer. That didn't seem to bother Skipper very much though. As the two of you walked hand in hand near the water, barefoot in the wet sand, he ran laps around Pedro holding him on the leash, occasionally splashing through the shallow water before joining close by his family again.

He would definitely need a bath later, but you didn't mind. He was happy splashing around, having a great day. You were happy walking with the man of your dreams, fingers intertwined together. Everything felt right. You weren't even nervous, despite the way Pedro looked like the most handsome man you've ever seen, or the fact that he was famous, and that you occasionally received stares from other beach goers. Instead of the usual first-date nerves people get, you just felt love.

“So,” he started excitedly, “Obviously I have most of this date planned, but I also wanted to check in with you and see if you had anything particular in mind that you wanted to do together.”

You thought for a second, letting a memory burn into your thoughts. “Well,” you began, "I don't want to sound like a total creepy fan or anything...” you added, cautiously. You kinda were, with all the photos of him you had saved on your phone (prior to deleting them before your first meeting in person). But that's not important right now, and he probably doesn't need to know that. Maybe it can be a funny story later.

Pedro laughed, that cute little wheezy laugh he does with his giant smile that makes your stomach do somersaults. Those same somersaults you've been getting since you first saw that smile on the screen and knew you were absolutely screwed until you got over this crush. Or, unexpectedly, when you walked hand-in-hand with him, like you were now.

“But…?” he pondered, looking down at you sideways, with a playful smirk and those big brown eyes that could make you lose your mind. They absolutely glittered in the sunlight right now, reflecting all the joy and love he felt for you.

“Okay maybe I'm a little creepy…” you nudged him with your side, still gripping his hand in yours as the two of you walked peacefully. The beach was crowded, but you and him, and Skipper, were the only ones here as far as either of you were concerned. There could be a loud scream and it wouldn't compare to the squealing in your mind. A firework show would simply feel like a projection of your sparks. A tornado couldn't sweep you off your feet as well as he could.

“Is this where you tell me you've been watching me sleep through my window for the past three years or something?” He raised an eyebrow, playful smile still on his face as he licked his lips.

“What?” You squeaked, laughing. “No. I mean… I did have some pictures saved of you, and have maybe read a fictional story or two about you and your characters…” or a few thousand, you thought.

You cringed. Why the fuck did I say that out loud?!

Your cheeks felt hot and you diverted your eyes away from the man beside you, a nervous grimace painted across your mouth. He barked out a laugh, pulling you into his side for a hug. “Baby, you're cute. I don't mind that you used to read those. I don't even mind if you still do. No different than a book, right? Maybe it'll give us some fun date ideas.” He rested his head on top of yours innocently.

Oh, if only he knew the things you read.

“Right. Fun date ideas,” you smirked to yourself. He pulled away to look at you, eyebrow raising playfully.

“Sweetheart,” he interrogated in the same tone you use when Skipper steals a sock from the laundry, “what kind of stories are you reading about me and my characters, huh?” He lifted your chin to meet his eyes. You'd feel nervous from his tone if he didn't flash a smug, knowing grin at you.

“Oh, you know…” you shrugged. “Just the typical romance stuff,” you turned, facing him and resting your hand on his chest, tracing a circle over his heart with your finger. You felt his pulse pick up under your touch, and saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

“What kind of thoughts are going through that pretty head of yours?” He asked, raising his brow while you continued tracing little hearts into his shirt with your index finger.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” You winked before removing your hand from his chest. Starting to walk away, you continued your earlier statement. “Anyway, as I was saying-”

“Oh, no you don’t,” he interrupted, laughing. “Don't think you're getting out of this conversation that easy,” he gently pulled your forearm, stopping your movement and sending you twirling into his arms once again.

“Maybe someday I'll tell you,” you giggled, booping his nose.

“Someday? Why not tell me now?” He ran his thumb over your lip, eyes drifting down quickly before returning to your eyes.

“I'll show you the fanfics I read about you when I know you're stuck with me and you aren't going to run for the hills,” you laughed nervously, only partially joking.

His playful demeanor vanished before your eyes, turning into a look of… concern? Oh no. This is it. Where he realizes what a mistake he made. Where he says he doesn't want to be together. Where he breaks my heart.

He gently held your arm, rubbing soft strokes. “Honey. What are you talking about?” His soft brown eyes searched your face. You gulped, not wanting to make eye contact, but he again pulled your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “I…” you floundered for the words. “I don't want to scare you away.”

“Why would I be scared away?” he asked in almost a whisper, concern and sadness lacing his features.

“Because I just had this huge, huge crush on you. So, I read fanfics and I saved all your photos and I watched all your movies. I spent more time on social media looking for updates on you. Just so I could see you, or imagine what being with you would feel like. Like a total crazy person. An absolute psycho creeper.”

“Baby…” he brushed his thumb over your cheek. “You aren't any of those things. I actually think that’s kind of sweet. Although, it makes me a little sad thinking about the pain you must have felt, having these strong feelings and not having found each other yet.” He brushed your hair out of your face, settling his other hand on your waist before continuing.

“Feelings make us feel a little crazy sometimes, and although I never read fanfiction about you, or had any pictures to save, I would be lying if I said I didn't take a screenshot of us that first night you showed me your face.” He rubbed his neck bashfully.

Fanfic about me? What? If that even exists, I gotta see what people are saying…

“You did?” His admission surprised you, to say the least. He sighed before answering. “Yes. I had - have,” he corrected himself, “a pretty big crush on you too, baby. But I felt like I was betraying you in a way, taking a picture of you during our video chat. I just wanted to remember your face if I never saw it again,” he sighed.

“I fell in love with you the first time I heard your song... I heard you sing about your feelings and daydreams. So… you admitting about fanfiction and pictures isn't all that surprising.” You lowered your eyes in embarrassment.

“Hey, look at me.” He stroked your cheek. You looked up and he continued. “I took that picture because I had already fallen so head-over-heels for you that the first time I saw your face, I stopped breathing. Although I knew I wouldn't be able to get the image of you out of my mind, I couldn't risk forgetting the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life.”

You dropped your gaze again, cheeks feeling a permanent state of warmth and butterflies dancing from your stomach to your chest. “You don't honestly mean that, Pedro.” You sighed. “I appreciate it, but there's no way. I really don't know what you could ever see in someone like me,” you whispered, barely audible. If you weren't standing so close, he would've missed it.

Instead of responding, he dropped his arms from your body. At the loss of contact, your heart sank. But when you lifted your head to meet his eyes, he was fishing around his pocket for his phone. Calling an Uber to leave? Your self-doubt pestered.

A few taps to his screen later and he held up his phone. There you were, sitting at your table in your favorite dress, with your favorite food and flowers on the table. You had the biggest smile on your face and in the bottom corner, you could see Pedro looking handsome as always, and absolutely smitten with you, the largest grin painted across his features.

At the sight of the image, your heart warmed. “See what you mean to me?” He asked, putting his phone back into his pocket. You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you,” you choked out, leaning forward to mold your lips to his. They fit together perfectly. Like they were made for each other. He pressed back before opening his mouth ever so slightly to lick at your lips. Matching his movements, your tongues met, dancing a waltz in exploration as he pulled you forward by your lower back, seeming as if trying to get as close as possible somehow.

As the two of you paused for air, he ran his hand further down your back, just barely grazing the dip of your spine where your torso meets your butt. He gave you a look, almost to determine your reaction, asking permission to let his hand continue. When you didn't back away, going as far as pulling him closer around his neck and leaning in for another kiss, he pressed his lips against yours in return and let his hands wander a little further down. When his hand wrapped around the cheek of your ass, you squeaked. This is new… and I like it, you thought. His whole hand fit across your cheek. His huge hands. You whimpered as he gave a squeeze, like he was claiming you as his own.

“I love you too.” He finally responded, pulling out of the kiss to search your eyes. “So tell me… what was this activity you wanted to add to our date? The one you fear makes you sound like a creepy fan?” He let out a small laugh, brushing your nose with his.

“This,” you replied, pressing another kiss.

“Kissing?” He asked, rubbing his thumb over your waist and resting his forehead to yours. “I think we've already been doing that, if I'm not mistaken.” He pecked your lips with his.

“Yes,” you kissed. “Well,” kiss. “Actually,” you pulled away enough to explain. “I read this interview you gave a few years ago about your ideal first date?”

“Yeah?”

“You said something about ‘a date that doesn't feel like a date. And

hopefully by the end, or throughout, very

good kissing.” You said, slightly cautious at your memorization, a bit nervous at the implication of what you're saying.

“Oh, is that what you want?” He flashed his eyes up to look at you, giving a devilish smirk.

“Well, as someone who hadn't been kissed yet when I read it, I sorta lost my mind over it,” you laughed. “Obviously we've kissed before, but if it were up to me your lips would never leave mine,” you pressed your lips to his again.

“I think we should be able to make that happen,” he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours before pulling you in for another kiss. “Mmmm” you sighed, pulling away from his lips. “Never gets old.” You held his hand in yours, the two of you walking again down the beach.

“So I was thinking,” he began, “since you said you deleted all your photos, and I only have the one, maybe we could make some new photos… together,” the corner of his mouth turned up into a crooked smile. You grinned and nodded excitedly. “Please!”

Pulling out his phone, the two of you took several photos together. Some just smiling, some with Skipper, and your personal favorites, the ones with him kissing you. This will make for a perfect lockscreen, you imagined.

As you approached the edge of a rocky cliffside at the end of the beach, a sea lion barked in the distance. Skipper perked up, tilting his head and letting his ears twitch before returning a “boof.” The two of you laughed, ushering your dog away from making any wild ocean friends, and headed towards the boardwalk.

After grabbing an ice cream at a candy shop, you were so deep in conversation and laughter that you didn't notice the girl off to the side looking nervous. Slowly she walked over. Skipper put up his guard, but as she approached, she gave a kind wave. “Hi… I'm sorry to bother you. I'm a big fan of you both.”

“Us… both?!” You responded, surprised. Pedro shook his head with a laugh before thanking the fan.

“Of course! Your music is amazing! I listen to it on my way home from work everyday. I relate to so many of your songs.”

“Wow, thank you so much. I never expected to be recognized. You're so kind,” you replied honestly.

She asked for a photo with you both, and after obliging, she mentioned before leaving, “by the way, I was following all the news that went down. I just want to say I think it's cute how you guys got together and you make a really cute couple. Okay bye! Thank you again!!” And with that, she scurried away, leaving you to look at Pedro in surprise. “Wow” you replied with a laugh. “I can't believe I'm getting recognized,” you spoke quietly.

“How do you feel about it?” Pedro asked cautiously.

“I feel… okay, so far. This was a nice interaction, and even though people keep looking at us… being able to be out in public with you, to show my face, kiss you, hug you, hold your hand,” you gave his hand a squeeze, “it makes it all worth it.”

“I couldn't agree more,” he looked into your eyes, giving a soft smile. You matched his expression before his face slowly faded into concern. “Do you think work will go okay for you? Now that it's out there?”

You took a deep breath, walking a few more steps with him down the boardwalk before replying. “I don't know. I guess so. Or… I hope so at least. I've had a few of my friends and coworkers message me kind words of encouragement. So at least I'll have some people on my side, even if anyone else has something to say. But really, they shouldn't. They already know me. They knew I liked you,” you leaned into him. “So they should be happy for me if anything. And if not, then… well, they didn't deserve to be my friend anyway,” you shrugged. “But I think I might take some time off to figure out everything, career wise,” you added. Still leaning into his side, Pedro unlatched his fingers from yours, opting to reach his arm around you, giving your shoulder a squeeze and rubbing soft circles into your upper arm.

“Baby,” Pedro began, his voice vibrating through your body as he leaned his head on yours, “I’m so proud of you. Have I told you how strong I think you are?” Your cheeks warmed and you grinned. “Thank you Pedro,” you wrapped your arms around his waist to hug him. “But I don't think I'm that strong. I struggle to open pickle jars just like the rest of us,” you joked.

Pedro gave a quiet snort. “You know what I mean, honey,” he laughed. “I don't mean physical strength. Though I'm sure you could hold your own in an arm wrestle, I mean your ability to handle all of this thrown at you so quickly. Your ability to adapt and stay cheerful about everything. You just keep continuing to amaze me,” he pulled his head away from yours to meet your gaze. He smiled softly and you thanked him.

“I don't feel very strong,” you mumbled, breaking away from his stare. “You are, though. You're strong, smart, beautiful. Talented. Passionate,” he kissed your lips.

“Pedro, I love you, but you always seem to use all these words I don't feel. You see me as someone completely different than the way I've always seen myself. I want to believe you, but-” you sighed. “No one else has ever shown any indication that those are true,” you pouted, trying not to tear up.

“Hey, hey, whoa. Stop,” he halted your movements, pulling your chin up to his face. “Maybe they didn't see you, but I do. I feel all those things about you, and I'll spend every single day trying to prove it. I told myself I wouldn't get involved in romance a long time ago. But you changed all that.”

His chocolate brown eyes felt like they looked directly into your soul as he attempted to unravel your self-doubt. With a deep breath, you calmed enough to reply. “I love you, and I feel all those things for you as well. I'm glad you opened yourself up to love again.” You pressed a kiss to his lips. “I'm glad I met you” you sucked his lip. “I'm glad you're mine.” You kissed him again, deepening it, letting your tongue press gently to his and tangling together in passion before pulling away.

Skipper had completely rolled into his side in wait for you both, between the conversation and the kissing. When the two of you broke away with matching grins, you looked over to see the sun had sunk down to the border between sky and ocean. In its wake was a bright orange sky, with pink, purple, and yellow streaks mixed in, as if a painter had gotten a bit too carried away with the paints. It was blindingly beautiful.

Drawn to it like moths, the three of you walked towards the shoreline once again. You started to sit, but Pedro pulled you into his chest and fished for his phone.

You gave him a confused look before he kissed you deeply and held out his arm. Unlatching his lips from yours with a pop, he held up his phone to you with a smile. In front of the vibrant ocean sunset, the silhouette of a couple shared a loving kiss. For once, it was you in this couple photo. You and the man you love.

You walked a little farther down the sand before sitting down just above the line of wet sand to admire the sunset. Pedro sat behind you, his legs on either side of you while you lay back into his chest. As you leaned into him, he hugged around your body, molding himself to you and tracing light circles into the skin on your arms, making the hairs stand on end and a shiver to run down your spine.

Skipper flopped down nearby, clearly sleepy after a long walk and plenty of new smells. You ran a gentle hand down his back until you heard soft snores, then let him sleep, leaning your head on Pedro’s arm around your shoulder. “This sunset is beautiful,” you sighed, watching as the sun descended further below the ocean. It looked as if it was sinking deep below the surface, offering its light to the deep sea anglerfish miles below.

“It is amazing,” Pedro agreed, staring at you. “But my view is even better,” he added, and you could feel his eyes on the side of your face as he kissed your shoulder. You looked over at him, meeting his eyes, now sparkling with the orange of the sky. “Mine too,” you whispered, tilting your head to press another kiss to his lips.

When the sun went down completely, you headed to the car and Pedro drove back to your place so you could get ready for dinner.

Pedro sat on the couch patiently, stroking the fur on Skip’s back while he snoozed, his head in Pedro's lap. In your bedroom, you searched for the perfect outfit to wear, finally deciding on a nice dress and sweater.

Hopefully the restaurant isn't too cold, you thought.

Walking out of the bedroom, you joined your boys in the living room, only to be greeted by Pedro’s jaw hitting the floor. “Te ves tan hermosa mi amor,” he stuttered in Spanish, flipping languages so easily when he was overcome with emotion. (You look so gorgeous my love.)

He gently stood, sliding out from below your dog, before walking over to you. His eyes scanned your body from head to toe and back up again, making you feel nervous. “You… you look… wow.” He rubbed his hand over his chin, his thumb grazing his lip. His pupils grew, making his eyes ever-so-slightly darker. You shivered under his gaze.

At your shiver, his demeanor shifted. “Shit, are you cold? Baby, you look incredible, but if you're cold -”

“I'm not cold, Pedro,” you interrupted.

“Are you sure? I saw you shiver.” He stepped towards you, touching your arm. A buzz crept under your skin like a live wire. “It wasn't from the cold…” you replied.

“It wasn't from-?” He paused, the realization hitting him as he understood your shiver wasn't from cold but frankly.. the opposite. “Oh,” he hummed, settling his hand on your hip and stepping closer.

Another chill.

“Feeling excited for our date, huh?” His voice caressed into your ear as he kissed his way down your neck, pausing to take gentle nibbles on the skin of your collarbone, neck, and chin, before pulling you in by your waist to press a deep kiss to your mouth, his tongue finding yours.

This was starting to feel natural, kissing. And you two were getting good at it together. Knowing just the way his tongue moved, finding just the spot to make you whine. You even managed to find a spot of him that made a groan slip from his lips nearly every time. Kissing him was addicting, and you had no intention of kicking the habit.

He pulled away, pulling your lip with his teeth as you let out a slight hiss. “I'd love to do this all night, but I promised you dinner, my love,” he kissed your cheek, his beard scratching your face just right. You sighed, agreeing to dinner and taking a minute step back. It felt much warmer in the room than before, and you could tell he felt the same. As your eyes drifted across his body, he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat. Slowly sweeping his eyes down his body, it was evident you both wanted something beyond dinner.

But the gentleman he is, Pedro stepped forward again, taking your hand and leading you toward the door.

Pulling up to the curb, Pedro opened your door for you before handing his keys to the valet. Linking his arm with yours, the two of you walked into an elegant Italian restaurant. He gave the waitress his name, and she led you back to a secluded room where a single booth sat.

The room was dimly lit, illuminated by candles and twinkling fairy lights. They lined the ceiling, mimicking the starry sky, were it not for the smog of the city. You two walked toward the only booth, settled against the nook of a window, draped with a soft, thin white curtain covering the view from outside. Only the reflection of street lights peered through the thin drapery.

Sliding into the booth, Pedro sat next to you, close enough to touch, yet due to the curve of the corner booth, you were able to converse without craning your neck awkwardly. At the center of the table was a single red rose in a vase, sat next to the glow of a candle. The table itself was rounded and draped with an elegant dark red tablecloth.

Grabbing the triangular folded napkin off your plate, you folded it across your lap, Pedro doing the same. He reached over to you, taking your hand in his. He rolled his hand over the top of yours, linking his fingers between your own and giving a gentle squeeze while offering a soft smile.

You looked into his eyes, searching for the words he might be thinking. In his eyes you only found love and appreciation, pure happiness oozing from his features. When the waitress came back, she set a basket of bread with butter on the table and took your orders.

The night went smoothly, chatter filling the empty spaces while you enjoyed your meals. “Pedro, I know this is technically our first date, but I gotta say, I think I consider our video chat for my album as the first date. It was the first time I felt like I might actually have a shot with you. You put so much effort into that night and it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. I didn't know I could fall for you any harder than I was, but you proved me wrong. And even though we didn't say it was a date, and I didn't have much experience before you, it felt more like a date than anything I had ever felt before. You're a real romantic, P.”

He smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “That felt like the first date to me too. I knew for sure that I loved you that night.” Your cheeks heated, and you leaned your head on his shoulder.

It was only when the bill arrived that you broke apart. Though you offered to pay, at least for your meal, Pedro wouldn't stand for that. After all, he told you, this date was his idea. So instead, you thanked him and left the restaurant the same way you entered, arms linked.

As Pedro pulled up outside of your home, you let out a sigh. It was already after 9 PM. You had spent nearly eight hours together and yet you dreaded the moment you'd be saying goodbye. It was almost that time already, yet it felt like only five minutes had passed.

Though the walk from Pedro’s car to your front door was rather short, you both managed to prolong it, walking as slow as possible. Clearly he wasn't ready for it to end either. Two love sick fools, just wanting to spend every moment together.

Teetering on the edge of goodbyes, you awkwardly stood by your door. There were no nerves at a first kiss, fortunately. There had been plenty of kisses shared today, and yesterday, and the day prior. In fact, if it weren't for breathing, eating, and other bodily functions, you'd be fine having your lips glued to his indefinitely.

So with that in mind, and the burning desire to spend more time together, as he said goodbye, placing a kiss to your lips and beginning to walk away, you grabbed his arm. “Wait,” you plead.

Pedro turned, looking at you as if you had something to say, or you had forgotten a sweater in the car. But instead, with your heart pounding in your ears, you quietly asked, “would you like to come in? I’m not quite ready to say goodbye.”

The question could be taken with so many potential implications, or none at all. All you knew for sure was that you wanted to spend more time with him. What happened next could be decided in the moment.

His eyes flashed surprise for a moment. He looked at you, trying to read your face for any details in your question, then stared at your front door before turning back to you and finally answering.

“I would love to,” he smiled.

And so the two of you walked through the threshold of your front door, buzzing with new possibilities just inside. But no matter how the rest of the evening takes place, you were in love, and for once, you were loved back.

The end! Thank you for reading! Stay tuned for the bonus tracks, and once again I'd love to hear what you think! Reblogs are appreciated as well :)

Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson @cartoon-garbage04 @tyferbebe @maryfanson @gwendibleywrites @faithfullyyours2000 @hc-geralt-23 @jenniferpendragon @winchestergypsy90 @red-red-rogue @theendwhereibegin @lottieellz101 @oliversaurus @kyga01 @milly-louise @titabel @taz-97 @stefanibear003 @marantha @fandomoniumflurry @ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl @leiadjarin @hmneighbors @emmalostinwonderland

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #a! wrote a fic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x afab!reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x musician!reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x plus sized! reader #pedro pascal rpf #rpf #key to your heart #pedro pascal smut

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agentstarkid · 2 months

Text

FOREVER IS THE SWEETEST CON ✦ DR3

✦ summary: While isolating in a hotel room, some things can't be ignored any more and, as stars fade in the dawn's light, some bonds were meant to be broken, like whispers carried away by the desert wind.

✦ pairing: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ words: 4.3K

✦ warnings: female!reader, latina!reader, established relationship, lots of angst, covid-19 & quarantine mentions, there's a nine-year age gap, forced proximity (if you squint), language.

✦ pit wall live: holis babes! before you all come for me with your pitchforks, I'd like to remind you that english is not my first language so I wanna give a big biiig thank you to Tally (@onceuponaoneshotfanfic) for englishing this baby and for encouraging me to write it when I told her I was thinking about it ❤️ I actually wrote this back in october and I can finally post it!! It is tied to Saudade, if you want more context to their story. This is not the end, okay?... or is it? hehe byeee

─── The Joker & The Queen (Masterlist)

Wednesday, just a day before his scheduled morning session, the symptoms began to show. They knew from the moment he started to complain about his body aching all over. The uncertainty and concern were present from the first moment, intensifying when, as a precaution, he underwent several medical tests to verify whether he suffered from Covid or not. However, the first test came back negative. It was a breath of relief, at least for a moment. But on Friday afternoon the alarms went off, and the Aussie driver's negative became a terrifying positive that further disrupted the false peace that they had tried so hard to preserve in recent weeks.

Practice for the opening race was scheduled for the following Friday, and having to isolate in accordance with local regulations meant that Daniel would go into the new season without having driven the car since last month.

Locked away from the outside world, tension brewed within the confines of a hotel room. This forced proximity only served to accentuate the strains that had long been present. The fraying edges of your relationship were now illuminated under the harsh fluorescent lights, magnified by the claustrophobic confinement of quarantine.

You entered the bedroom and found him lying on the bed, wearing a navy shirt and a pair of sweats, his feet locked at the ankles and his attention focused on his phone.

“How are you feeling?”

“’m fine,” he sighed.

“Do you need anything?” you tried again.

“Nope.”

You went to lay down on your side of the bed. “Heard Lando had problems with the car today.”

“Seems the car is even shittier than last year.” He let out a dry laugh. “But I wouldn’t know because I’m stuck in this fucking hotel room for the rest of the week.”

“Look on the bright side, you’ve got a couple of extra days to relax before the craziness of the season begins.” You gave a half shrug.

“Wouldn’t exactly call this relaxing. But you wouldn’t understand.”

“What does that mean? I know how you’re feeling-”

He shook his head and huffed, dropping his phone on the bed. “No, that’s the thing. You don’t know, sweetheart. How would you know? You didn’t get a fucking positive result and was forced to stay inside these walls, watching how everyone else gets the chance to freely try out their cars before they really have to focus on the season. You’re only stuck here as a precaution. It’s funny, you know…” He snorted. “You’ve been traveling a lot lately. And it’s been fine in the meantime. But as soon as you get here—”

“Are you saying that all of this is my fault?” The tension in the room was palpable as the argument raged on.

He rubbed his forehead as he looked up at the ceiling. He wouldn't even look at you — and somehow that annoyed you even more.

“Oh, I’m sorry for not being considerate enough to also get sick, it’s not like I can actually control that. But that might be my fucking fault, too. I’m too fucking busy being worried about your health. My bad.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm your beating heart. You turned back over to face away from him.

You felt so tired and hurt. In the last few days, these walls have felt like a battleground, waiting for you to engage in combat. And all you keep doing is try to stand tall pretending to be the bravest soldier.

It all began with the relentless hate that had been heaped upon you recently. At first, it was fine, it was expected, and you would laugh about the things they were saying. You must have been blinded by the honeymoon phase, as some people call it, but all things must come to an end. Lately, Daniel's devoted fans had turned into a fierce mob, outraged and blaming you for his performance last year, saying it was all the time he's been spending with you instead of focusing on his career. The hateful comments and messages had started to poison the relationship.

You guessed that it was easier when you were the only target. It was bearable to an extent; you could take it. Wasn't the first time it happened, and you supposed it was all part of the “big show”. But once they started targeting him too – things took a 180-degree turn.

Daniel and you had been inseparable for two years, celebrating your anniversary not too long ago. Now, you both lay silently in your hotel room; the once fiery love now reduced to smoldering embers.

He sighed and turned his head in your direction. “Babe, I—”

“It’s okay.” You mumbled squeezing your eyes shut, trying to keep in the tears that threatened to fall. “Goodnight.”

He covered his eyes with his hands; he didn’t mean to snap at you like that. He could hear you taking deep breaths, and something in his chest felt heavy. This need to bicker, to fight with you had been present for a few weeks, but lately had reached an all-time high.

The 2021 Formula 1 season had brought with it a surge of emotions that Daniel hadn't anticipated. As he settled into his new role with McLaren, the pressure to prove he was the more experienced driver in his first year with the team weighed heavily on his shoulders.

Every race was a chance to show the world that he still had what it took to compete at the highest level of motorsport. The expectations were high, and the scrutiny was relentless. Fans, the media, and fellow drivers all wondered if the Honey Badger could return to his former glory.

The season brought a mix of highs and lows. The highlight, undoubtedly, was the victory in Monza. It was a moment that should have been celebrated longer as a triumph for both Daniel and McLaren. However, amidst the jubilation, there was a bitter undercurrent of frustration. It seemed that the team's focus was already shifting to the next race, their first win in 12 years overshadowed by the relentless march of time.

Daniel's frustration grew as he watched the spotlight turn away from Monza's victory. He yearned for the recognition, the culmination of a year of hard work and perseverance. But as the season continued, the pressure only increased. The wins were non-existent, and the losses weighed heavily on him, each one gnawing at his confidence.

The expectations for the coming season were higher than ever. He knew that he had to perform at his best to silence the critics and prove that he still had that competitive edge. The weight of those expectations seemed to hang over him, a constant reminder of the challenges that lay ahead.

Each race weekend would become a test, a chance to prove himself once again. The roar of the engines, the smell of burning rubber, and the pressure of the competition were all part of the Formula 1 world that he loved, but they also added to the mounting stress.

You couldn’t sleep at all.

Sleep evaded you that night. Your mind was racing a mile a minute, trying to figure out how to fix the fractured parts of the relationship. Where did it go wrong? The question replayed over and over again like a broken record.

You stretched your arm to grab your phone from the nightstand and check the time.

2:30 A.M. Just a little bit less than 4 hours until the sun would come out. And 5 more days until you both would be free to leave this room.

You stood up from the bed and went to Daniel’s bedside table to look for the fingertip pulse oximeter. Once you found it, you knelt down and took his hand, careful not to wake him, and placed the oximeter on the tip of his index finger. After a few seconds of waiting for the values to remain constant, you sighed with relief when a big 98 appeared under the oxygen saturation. Thankfully, his symptoms were not of great concern, and he showed constant improvements. But you didn’t want to risk it, so every few hours you made sure to check his vitals just so you could have a little peace of mind. Especially when he was sleeping.

You couldn’t help but look at him for a moment. He looked to be in a profound state of sleep, so calm and so beautiful. His features, usually animated and lively, rested in a serene calm. You observed the rise and fall of his chest, the tranquil expressions that danced across his face, and the gentle harmony of his breathing. In these hushed moments, it was like nothing had changed, where you were still you and he was still the same Daniel that promised you that you were a team.

As you gazed upon him, your heart was a mix of conflicting emotions. On one hand, there was the undeniable warmth and affection that comes from witnessing his vulnerability in slumber. Yet, a touch of sadness lingered, a bittersweet reminder of the unresolved tension from the previous fight. The serenity of his sleep served as a poignant backdrop to your disagreements, and you desperately longed for the chance to mend the rift and return to the peace you once shared.

It didn’t take long for the tears to appear again and you couldn’t help but curse being so sensitive. You stood up; you knew that going back to bed was useless, so you headed out of the room. You ended up curled up on the couch in the dark living room of your hotel room, the soft glow of your phone screen casting a bright light on your tear-streaked face. You debated whether calling one of the girls or just text them in need of letting all this helplessness out. But you didn't want to bother them with your problems, you knew they already had enough with their owns. So, you gave up on the idea.

Your relationship with Daniel had been a whirlwind of love and excitement, a passionate journey that had weathered ups and downs, but always coming out stronger on the other side. Now, you weren’t so sure you would come out of this unscathed.

Was it time to let it go? You couldn’t help but wonder. You weren’t new to this predicament. It happened before with your last relationship. But with Harry, the revelation that it was over came naturally and gently. You both were on the same page and knew it was inevitable. But with Daniel, your heart told you to continue, begged you to keep fighting while your mind was sending out warning signals that you chose to completely ignore.

The bright Bahraini sun shone through the big windows when Daniel, out of habit, rolled over to pull your body closer and instead felt the coldness of the sheets on your side of the bed. He opened his eyes and searched around the room. The bathroom door was open, and the lights were off, so you couldn’t be there. He stood up and left the room, yawning. He found you in the same place you ended up last night, curled up and holding a pillow to your chest.

The dark bags under your eyes were more prominent this morning. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt in his chest at the sight of you. He got closer and leaned down to place a tender kiss on your forehead and felt you stir for a moment before slowly opening your eyes. You rubbed your eyes before looking up at him silently.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you said in a sleepy voice.

“What are you doing here?” he yawned, taking a seat on the couch as you moved back to give him space.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you replied in a muted voice, eyes downcast, fiddling with your fingernails.

And that was the routine after an argument: fight. One of you would try to walk away to calm down (most of the time it was you). Pretend nothing happened and go back to normal – well, whatever normal meant these days. Repeat.

A heavy silence settled between you. He leaned back on the couch, just staring at your face. He knew he should say something. Apologize even. But the words refused to come out. Meanwhile, thoughts swirled in your mind, doubts that had been lingering for a while now. Was it all in your head? Had you been the problem all along?

No.

As the seconds ticked by, the fog began to lift, and with it came a newfound clarity. It wasn't all in your head, and you weren't the sole problem. You had believed for so long it was your responsibility to make things right, to hold everything together. But it had been a shared responsibility, a partnership that had eroded in different ways.

Yes. You had both contributed to this.

You had underestimated the significance of his actions, his choices, and his words. In the process of taking all the blame, you had overlooked how he had let things slip away, how he had failed to communicate, and how he had allowed the distance to grow. You realized that it was a two-way street, and while you had been quick to accept responsibility for your part, it was time for both of you to acknowledge your roles in your shared demise.

Something within you was stirring, a growing realization that you couldn't keep shouldering the blame for everything. It wasn't fair to you, nor was it the path to a healthy and equal relationship.

"I can't do this anymore, Daniel," you murmured, your eyes brimming with sadness.

"No, no no— no we're not doing this—"

“Amor, please,” you pleaded in a whisper. Tears welled up in your eyes, but your resolve held firm. “We've been arguing about everything lately. All of this is hurting us. Your fans—”

Daniel's heart ached, but he lashed out in defense. “You know it's not that simple! I can't control what my fans say—”

Your irritation boiled over. "But you can defend me, Daniel! You can stand up for us!”

Frustration welled up in Daniel, his voice growing sharper. "I'm trying to protect what's left of my career, YN! Last season was awful for me, apart from one win, which was insignificant, apparently. I've got my own fucking problems!” He stood up forcefully and started to pace around the room.

Your anger flared and big angry tears streamed down your face. “You think it's only your career that's on the line? What about us? We're supposed to be a team, supporting each other. ‘Us against everything else’, remember? But you're making it all about you!” you screamed at him, standing up from where you were previously sitting.

He suddenly stopped in front of you. “You're too young and naive to understand the pressure I'm under. It's not just about us. It's about my career, it’s about my life! And that’s very rich coming from you,” he scoffed. “What about your fans, huh? The hate I'm getting from them and other people, it's taking a fucking toll!” he hissed. You stared at him, feeling shocked by his words. He kept going. “And let’s not forget how fucking clingy you’ve been. You suffocate me sometimes. Must be nice to have a job where you can just drop everything anytime you want and take paid vacations to follow me around.”

His words left you feeling as though the ground had been yanked from beneath your feet.

You're too young and naive. How fucking clingy you’ve been — You suffocate me sometimes. His words echoed incessantly in your mind like a stuck playback.

When did the insecurities shared transform into arrows, aimed at your most profound wounds?

You snapped, “You knew what you were getting into when we started dating. And I warned you. I gave you an out so many times, but you decided to stay.” A bitter laugh left your mouth. “You said I was the greatest risk you’ve ever taken and the greatest reward—”

“And I did think that, YN,” he uttered. “We lived inside a bubble for so long, but reality is different. Maybe we rushed into this too soon.”

“Come on, bury my heart deeper, Danielito. If that's what you're trying to do— it's working,” you said with a pained smile, eyes only focused on him.

The room seemed to grow colder, and your voices decreased in volume. But the damage had been done. Daniel realized the pain his words had caused, but his own frustration clouded his judgment. “This wouldn’t even be a problem, if you wouldn’t make one out of it,” he muttered bitterly.

“Please, don’t make this worse than it already is,” you agonized; your voice was shaky. Invisible claws of grief and anguish were tearing at the muscles and tendons in your chest. You never knew that emotions could possess such tangible, physical presence.

“If only we had met on different grounds. Then maybe things would have been different, we would be different.”

You couldn't help but add more fuel to the fire. You lacked the capacity for a graceful exit, and if you were aflame, you'd ensure that he, too, would turn to ashes. “Do you mean what if I was different?” A new wave of anger swept over you.

That question caught him off guard, forcing Daniel to pause and stare at you, honest surprise and confusion coloring his face. “What?”

Your voice trembled with a mix of frustration and hurt as you confronted him. “Heidi's constant presence in the paddock these past few months, the way you've been talking to her, and how people are speculating about you two... It's causing me to doubt myself and my place in your life.”

Daniel's brows furrowed, and his voice carried irritation. “YN, this is ridiculous. Heidi is just a friend. We've been through this countless times.”

You inched forward as you tried to make him understand. “I know she's your friend, but the way you've been spending time with her lately... it's different. I can't shake off the feeling that there might be something more.”

Daniel rolled his eyes, his frustration mounting. “You're being crazy, YN. We're just friends, and it's unfair of you to accuse me, and especially her, like this.” In a further defensive move, he shot back, “You're the one who had those cheating rumors circulating, not me. You should know how destructive and unfounded these accusations can be. And now, you're doing the same thing with Heidi?”

It felt like a hard punch to your gut, you took in a sharp breath, “So, you're bringing this up again? We already cleared the air about those false accusations when they hit us. I would never dare cheat on you!” Your frustration was palpable.

“And why is it so fucking hard to believe I wouldn’t either?” Suddenly, you could clearly see how sadness clouded his features.

The room seemed to close in around you both. Then, all of a sudden, you realized that healing from this and moving forward required a level of understanding and compassion that seemed beyond reach in the heat of this argument.

In that moment, you knew for certain that it was over. The love you had once celebrated, the memories you had shared, now felt like distant echoes of a happier time.

How did you both allow things to spiral into such chaos? This living room had transformed into a battleground, where words cut like knives. Where were the Daniel and YN who were deeply in love? The ones who, for the first time, felt safe to be vulnerable and discuss a future they had envisioned together; one with a couple of tiny little feet running around the farm in a couple of years and joking about how wild a perfect mix of Australian and Latino genes would be. Now, you stood face to face, unrecognizable, refusing to show any sign of surrender.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

It wasn’t supposed to end at all.

The silence in the room was suffocating. All the energy and adrenaline left your body at once. You felt emotionally drained, as though a storm had swept through your heart and left it battered and exhausted.

You took a sit back on the couch and ran your hands across your face, squeezing your eyes shut. “We can't go on like this.”

So, this is it, Daniel thought. Dread twisted in his gut; he felt like he might throw up. His shoulders slumped and he raked his fingers through his hair as he took a seat next to you. The vulnerability in your words cut him deeply, but he understood the gravity of the situation. "You're right," he admitted, his voice choked with emotion. “We tried, didn’t we? We gave it our best shot” a sad smile adorned his tired face. “For what it’s worth, I really am sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.” he murmured as tears shone in his eyes.

“I'm sorry, too. I wanted to make it work. I always just wanted to be the one.” Your heart seemed to shatter into even smaller fragments. As you wiped away a single tear that trickled down your cheek, the physical act of brushing it away only served to accentuate the profound pain that had settled within your chest. It felt as though each tear carried with it a piece of your shattered dreams and the love that was now slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. In that fleeting moment, your heartache intensified, and you realized that this breakup was leaving you more broken than you had ever thought possible.

As the final words echoed in the room, you, your tears spent, turned and walked out into the bedroom, leaving Daniel alone with the weight of what had just transpired.

As soon as you left the room, you locked yourself in the bathroom and texted Blake. You asked him if there was any chance, he could talk to the hotel so you could get another room for the remaining time you had to be in quarantine. The request took him by complete surprise, and you explained shortly that Daniel and you had just broken up.

He assured you he was going to do everything in his power to get you a new room. You were sure that as soon as you hung up the phone, he was already texting Daniel asking for a better explanation.

As you sat on the bathroom floor, the pain was all-encompassing, a relentless throb deep within your chest that left you gasping for air. It felt as though a gaping void had taken up residence in your heart, and you weren’t sure how to fill it.

Tears flowed freely down your cheeks. Numbness had started to settle in. A surreal feeling that this couldn't be real, that you would wake up from this nightmare at any moment. You wished that a switch would flip and make it all go away, but the pain persisted.

Bitterness and anger boiled within you. You felt wronged by the universe, by the cruel twist of fate that had torn you both apart. You resented the public scrutiny, the relentless judgment from fans and strangers alike, and the demands of your high-profile careers.

You felt unbearably alone. You longed for Daniel’s presence, for the familiar comfort of his arms, but he was no longer yours to hold. Your heart ached for the man you thought, for a short period, you would spend the rest of your life with, even though you knew that was no longer possible. The pain of heartbreak was, for you, an agonizing and inescapable reality, and you had yet to discover how to heal and move forward.

Turns out Blake went beyond of what you initially asked for. He arranged for you to take the PCR test again to confirm that you had not contracted the virus while sharing a room with Daniel.

After two slow and torturous days, where you spent your time curled up on the couch and Daniel spent his in the bedroom — a decision you made, he was the sick one after all. After two consecutive negative results, you were given the green light to leave. You had already packed your things after your call with Blake a few days ago, hoping you could change rooms. He had asked you if you needed anything else, saying he was willing to facilitate everything for you. He saw you as a fundamental part of this little dysfunctional family and had developed a deep affection for you. You couldn’t thank him enough.

Soon you had a plane waiting to take you back to L.A., to a house, not a home, all alone. You were leaving behind what you've come to realize was your home in the last two years.

You awkwardly said goodbye to Daniel. Your voice sounded tired, while he shifted on his feet on the threshold of the bedroom door. Curls wild, beard a bit longer than the past days and the bags under his eyes looked even more prominent. Despite the visible signs of weariness on both of you, you still couldn't draw any solace from the shared pain.

You knew you had to find your own path, to heal from these wounds, and to rediscover who you were outside of the relationship. As the plane took off, you made a silent promise to yourself to emerge from this ordeal stronger, wiser, and ready to face the world, no matter how unforgiving it might be.

#the joker and the queen fic #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #latina!reader #daniel ricciardo x female reader #daniel ricciardo angst #( agentstarkid's works )

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lamnwar · 7 months

Note

Hii! I really love your stories and writing style and since i saw your requests are open, I'd love to request a NSFW with Akashi where it's both, his and reader's first time, with lots of fluff if possible and if you want!!

If you decide to write it, thank you in advance! <3

Omgggg can't believe it took me 6 months to complete this request I swear I momentarily forgot how to write smut 😭😭 hope you still enjoy this though, I felt bad so this one is extra long (4.7k) <33

You're My First // Akashi Seijurō x Fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

Context: Might have taken you and your boyfriend Seijurō way too long to finally have sex, whoops! All characters are aged-up (18+) for plot purposes.

Warnings: mainly fluff till the last quarter, mention of reader (and Akashi a bit) being sexually frustrated, mention of masturbation (both Akashi and reader do it), kissing obvs, handjob, fingering, protected sex (because Akashi is a gentleman 🥰)

The wooden tile strategically placed on the board, Seijurō's game partner sighs. It's a force of habit: can you ever win against a guy like him? You chuckle, arms wrapping around your boyfriend's shoulders as you kiss his cheek.

“What is it that you say? Your victory is absolute?” you whisper loud enough for Shintarō to hear you.

“Please, no need to add more to my defeat” the green haired man readjusts his glasses, seemingly unbothered by his loss but you aren't dupe.

A smile on your lips, you let your fingers run through Seijurō's red hair. His shogi playmate looks away, like all the times you show some sort of affection to your boyfriend. Throwing his jacket over his broad shoulders, Midorima excuses himself by saying that he's got practice. It figures, you think, Seijurō's friends are players like no other. You wave him goodbye as he walks out, and once his tall figure is out of sight, you let out a soft sigh.

“Sei?”

He looks up from the board with a softness in his gaze, putting the tiles back in their designated bag. Akashi Seijurō conceits his emotions quite well, that's a well-known fact. But the minute he fell in love with you, he's learned to open up. From talking about his mother to how basketball saved him from his darkest times, the Seijurō you know is exclusive – no one, not even Midorima that he's fond of, has any knowledge of the depth of his person. But you don't bother: he's your one and only, isn't he?

“Coming to my place tonight?” He asks.

You breathe in, like every time he asks. Most of the time, there is no meaning to these words. Nights of shy touches, nights of "sorry love, I can't". You ponder if you should refuse. You have needs, don't you? Of course you do. More than touch-starved, you crave love to a level that you feel Seijurō is not ready for.

“Sure thing” you utter, incapable of turning him down.

A light brings his eyes to life, and you feel your heart melt.

Isn't he sweet, your Sei-chan?

A thought you never believed you’d ever had, on the day you met him; an afternoon in May, both of you finding yourself in the same isle of the library, looking for the same book.

“It's in my recommended reading list” you said, not willing to back down.

“Funny, my professor wrote this one.”

His arrogance turned you off, but then, he organized a special lecture for your class with the author of said book, leaving your own lecturer in awe and you wondering why he did such thing for someone who meant nothing. Took you long enough to realize that you actually meant something to him. He asked you out right after that lecture and now here you are.

“Sei, let me treat you. We’re having celebratory diner for your victory in shogi” You stretch out of your spot, hands swaying to your hips as you smile to your boyfriend.

“My love, if we have a celebratory diner every time I win, you’ll end up broke.”

You scoff, nudging him in the arm. His arrogance ever so often pops out, but in a rather endearing way. In the right settings, you find yourself thinking, it might even be attractive – but you guard yourself from admitting so.

“We’re eating to my place instead” he says as his arm finds your shoulders, wrapping around it with the grace that could only be associated to him.

You raise an eyebrow but doesn’t refuse the invitation. The last rays of sun cast on your faces as you both walk in the late summer evening, between the distant laughter of children and the sounds of birds going home. And amidst all of what soothes your soul, nothing compares to the way you feel at this exact moment, walking so close to the one you love. It’s a subtle feeling, one that you don’t bother to describe, that makes things so easy when he’s around. And you just need to glance for a second in his direction, to see it. The way he makes you feel, written all over your face.

Seijurō is silent, yet, from the dancing flame in his eyes, you can guess that something is brewing in his head. You smile, a soft chuckle coming out of your lips. You know he hates it, when you’re able to read him so easily; he told you once, “I’ve always thought of myself as hard to decipher”. Not so much though, or at least, not to you.

“Sei, you seem nervous despite having an awfully good day.”

Your remark gets him to straighten up as he walks, a quick raise of his eyebrows indicating that you took him by surprise.

“Can’t a guy be nervous around his girlfriend?”

“My…” you chuckle, “don’t put it on me now. What’s up? It’s not the first time I’m coming over, although I’d argue it’s not a common occurrence.”

“Well, you know – “

“You might do things you'll regret if I come by too often, I know” you cut him off.

You both stay silent for a minute; your words having brought up the memories of countless of discussions around this topic. Seijurō has never outrightly told you why he barely has you over, why he cuts your dates short when things start to escalate, why every time you take the level of intimacy up a notch, he is the first one to grow distance between you. It’s always some vague excuse that you don’t really understand, but you try your best not to judge. Intimacy, after all, is not a given to everybody.

“But you know, I don’t think I’ll regret anything I do with you.” You say, cutting short to the long silence. “I mean, as long as it’s you and that… you know. I just wanna say, I trust you with these things. I wouldn’t be with you overwise.”

You quickly glance in his direction, in search of a reaction from your boyfriend. You don’t know if your words are clear enough to him – not that it’s been your kind (or his kind) to be straightforward. Yet, you still manage to get yourself to be understood, despite never saying things outright. So you just hope that he’s got the message clear; and he does, you figure, by the small nod he gives as you approach his place.

“I’ll treat you to a lovely diner tonight, then. And if you don’t mind, you can spend the night.”

You stare at him, incredulous. Have you heard that last part right? Seijurō always speaks with assurance, but these aren’t words he’s used to speak.

“Oh, y-yeah…” you clean your throat, hand clumsily trying to hide your blush.

This is a turn of situations you haven’t expected whatsoever, but as you walk into the familiar lobby of Seijurō’s place, you realize soon enough that this is real. Unusual, but real.

And then it hits you.

The reason he seems nervous, the reason he’s invited you over in the first place, and why he’s asked you to stay over from the start. It comes clear, especially knowing him. The young man has always been one to plan things out, especially important things. And if you read the situation correctly, tonight is not born out of nothing.

Maybe he’s finally taken notice of the small clues you’ve left, traces of your desire for more. The way your hands linger longer on his body when you touch him, the sweet perfume you wear on your neck in hope whiffs draw him in, the elongated looks you’ve sent him for weeks now. Sweet, innocent eyes, yet eyes ready for more, if he’s only willing to give you an opportunity.

And willing, to your surprise, he is. Something feels different when you walk the threshold of his place; it’s not the soft smell of lavender you’ve grown familiar with, it’s not the warm shade of the light, it’s not the way he hangs his jacket on the hanger at the door. So, what is it?

“Love, are you coming?” His voice brings you out of your thoughts.

You breathe out a short “yes”, joining him in the kitchen. Your gaze fall upon the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, as he rinses vegetables for diner. The way he moves with grace and confidence while you’re still trying to process what this whole night means stuns you, and you sit, in contemplation of whether you should address the subject.

How are you supposed to ask your boyfriend if you’re having sex for the first time tonight, anyways?

You contemplate, ultimately concluding that being direct is the best way to go about it. Well, that is, if you even know how to be direct in the way you address the subject. So you stand, looming over his shoulders as he stirs some onion and garlic in the pan, shy hands locking behind your back. He hums, an assured smile creeping on his lips as he feels your presence in his back. He’s seemingly way more relaxed about this night than you are – but then again, Seijurō is the last person on Earth to show any sign of nervousness. His hand reaches back to you, gently dragging your face closer to land a kiss on your forehead.

“What’s that, love? Are you the nervous one, now?”

He chuckles as you stare at him, baffled. Are you doing such a terrible job at hiding it?

“Can’t tell me you’re all chill about tonight either” you retaliate.

“Oh, but I am.”

“When did you decide to make tonight the night, anyway?”

He turns off the stove, flipping the veggies one last time.

“I had that idea in mind for a while, but I wanted to make sure that you wanted it as well” he replies honestly, “so when you said that you trusted me earlier, I had all the confirmation that I needed.”

You nod, sitting on the counter.

“And you’re really gonna make me think you’re not nervous at all about it?” you cock an eyebrow.

His silence leaves you uncertain – something that annoys you ever so often. Your ability to read him better than anyone else has always been your pride, so these moments where he strips you from your special ability to comprehend him always annoys you.

“Seijurō.”

He looks up in your direction, his eyes open slightly as he hears your tone. It’s not cold, or mean, or stern. But it’s serious, well serious beyond what he’s used to hear from you. He sighs, joining you as his pinkie finger gently grazes your hand.

“If you don’t want to, we don’t have to do it.” He sighs. “Maybe we should have talked about it before…”

“It’s fine. If we did, it would have ruined the mood.”

“Because there’s a mood to ruin to begin with?”

You chuckle, finger interlocking with his.

“Oh, I’m crazy nervous, but it doesn't make me any less… eager than I’ve always been.”

He raises an eyebrow, slight amusement on his face. You can’t help but chuckle a bit at his expression. Suddenly, seeing him smile so wholeheartedly makes (most) of your nerves go away. Maybe that’s what he does to you, and maybe that’s why you stick around. You let out a soft giggle, before looking at him.

“Anyways. Do you have any idea how the night where you lose your virginity typically goes?”

“I was relying on you to have an answer on that.”

You scoff, a heartfelt laugh coming out of your throat. The sight of you like that makes the blood pump to his face; a light pink blush painting his cheek as he laughs too. He doesn’t even know what gets you to laugh like that – head thrown back as the little crinkles by your eyes that he loves so much appears, but it warms his heart like nothing else can.

“Damn, we’re two big virgins, aren’t we?” you say as you sigh dramatically.

“For some reason, I imagined that you would have been more knowledgeable than me on that topic.”

“Seijurō, who do you think I am?!”

He chuckles; a slightly high-pitched sound that rarely comes out of him unless he’s with you. Because this is what you do to him, letting his true nature shine through from time to time – whether it be his radiant smile, the pink on his cheeks every time he’s near you, or the kindness of his amber eyes.

“Well… you know I’m not one to half-ass anything, but it’s not the easiest thing to do some studying on.”

“I see.” You nod, fingers interlocking with his. “But we trust each other, don’t we?”

He hums, looking at you. And that’s when you see it in his eyes, that glimmer that tells you without stuttering that he is absolutely sure about this, you and him, but mostly you.

“Can’t go wrong if it’s us, yeah?”

His words travel in your mind as he slowly leans towards you. His thumb caresses the soft skin of your bottom lip, before he leaves a sweet and soft kiss on it. It feels almost nostalgic, a kiss similar to the one you first exchanged when you just started dating. The warmth in your heart and the gentleness of his fingers on your skin, all reminiscent of the kisses you experienced when you were falling for him. And now that you have fell, the idea of feeling these kisses all over again makes your heart beat frenetically. You kiss him once again, your hand resting on the soft skin of his cheeks as you pour your love in that single kiss. He pulls away, hot breath falling on your lips as his eyes capture you, forbidding you to look anywhere else.

“Is it crazy if I tell you I am absolutely sure about this, in this very instant?” he mutters against your lips.

You hum, shaking your head. It’s not crazy, the thought has crossed your mind, too. And maybe that’s a sign; for the little that you know on the topic, overthinking things usually isn’t the way to go. It’s more one of these “if you know, you know” moments.

And right now, this is it.

Just one look, and he grabs your hand, taking you both to the bedroom – not before covering up the sautéed veggies he’s cooked earlier, of course (Seijurō, even in desperate need for you, wouldn’t leave freshly made food uncovered). You giggle, body lying on the soft mattress of his bed; bed that you’ve shared multiple times without ever crossing the line. And here you are, fingers tangling in his soft, red locks, too lost in a haze of desire to think of the hardship it has been all along to not act on your needs for him, for his touch.

“Sei, I want you, you know that?”

“You made it quite clear, yeah” he blushes softly as a sweet laugh comes out of his lips. “And I know it’s not very gentleman-like of me to say it, but baby, if I could, I would strip you naked right away.”

“Do it then, who’s stopping you?”

He raises an eyebrow, pink painting his cheek as he sees the daring look in your eyes.

“My... I’m no savage, I had to make sure you wanted me to.”

You laugh, leaving a sweet kiss on his jaw.

“Baby, I’ve got years of pent-up sexual frustration about to get unleashed. Please, do not be a gentleman with me tonight.”

He looks at you curiously, not expecting his sweet girlfriend to utter such words. Yet he feels his cock twitch in the confine of his pants when he hears you speak like that. Something about your tone – so clear and confident, with a hint of need, makes the blood rush down to his aching member. The one he used to stroke once you were gone from his place, mad at himself that he didn’t gather the strength to touch you despite knowing that it was what you both wanted; and he found himself angry at himself and in desperate need for you, stroking his dick shamefully as he thought of you.

But here you are, under his body, your tongue leaving the sweet taste of you in his mouth as you push him as close to you as possible.

He pulls away, heavy breath fanning on your hot skin. It’s almost by instinct that he lets his hand trail down to the hem of your shirt, tugging on it as if to ask if he can remove it from you. And he does when you give him a nod, loving eyes examining all parcels of skin that gets unveiled before him. He’s delicate and meticulous, removing piece by piece with so much regard for the fabric that you’re almost tempted to tell him to just rip it off. He has always had that theory about you – one that he finally gets to confirm.

You are, indeed, a piece of art.

The beauty of your skin, the marks, moles and scars, the curves and angles. All so perfectly mixed like you were created by an artist and no less. He stops for a minute, wondering: does he have any right to touch something so immaculate?

But you’re quick to give him an answer, when your hands remove his shirt, letting you get a sight at his body. Seijurō is surprising. His build is slender, delicate; but when your fingers trace the outline of his muscles, it becomes clear that he is more than he appears to be. Not that you’ve ever been curious about his body either. One thing that you’ve always liked about your boyfriend, is his face. His features are soaked in grace, always having the look of a prince in all situations – even in the morning when he’s just wakened up, or after practice when he’s sweaty. He’s got that same look, over and over, that makes you believe you must have done something great in your past life to find yourself someone like him in this one.

“Sei, I wanna touch you, can I?”

He smiles softly. Your request is sweet, almost innocent. He can’t say no, he doesn’t want to.

“Be nice, yeah?” He leaves a peck on your cheek.

You giggle – who would have guessed that he’d make you feel like a silly teenage girl in love right now? Your hand trails down his body, meticulously exposing his skin. It’s soft and warm, and now you understand why his hugs always feel so good. Your movements slow down when you reach his belt, eyes widening slightly at the sigh of the bulge in his pants. It’s not the first time that you see it – you’ve noticed it in the previous nights you had a sleepover – but this time, you ought to do something about it.

“Ah – oh my…” his breath hitches in his throat as your fingers reach inside his pants, pulling the fabric down to unleash his cock.

It’s a bold move on your part, one that gets you to blush furiously once you see his erected member before your eyes. It’s pretty, you think, much more than you expected it to be. A delicate curve that leads to a blush pink tip – sensitive, you notice as your finger curiously brushes over it. You explore, hand wrapping around his length as you give him gentle caresses.

“Is that good, Sei?”

“Amazing, love… please don’t stop.”

You hum, letting your fingers translate your curiosity by the way they explore every inch of skin you find, watching him shiver when you touch some places, sigh when you touch others. So… this is it, you think, a man’s pleasure. You continue, watching him twitch in your hold. You look up at him, sparkles in your eyes.

“Sei, do you love my touch?”

His fingers run through your locks, a soft smile on his face.

“I have to, it comes from you.”

Pulling you up to pepper your face in kisses, you can almost cry. It's never hit you before, how much your boyfriend actually loves you. But you can’t deny that look in his eyes – love and lust painting his irises like night lights.

Beautiful, like him.

Enchanting, like him.

Loving, like him.

“Sweetheart” his voice falls in your ear in a soft murmur, “I’ll need you to stop fiddling with my cock with those soft fingers of yours or I won’t be able to contain myself anymore.”

“Oh… Oh!” you blush, pulling your hands away. “Got carried away. A man’s anatomy is a curious thing” you remark.

He raises an eyebrow, laying you down on the mattress.

“I could say the same thing about a woman’s body, particularly yours…” he taunts, thumb tracing down your throat to your perky nipple.

You hiss, surprised look at the way he touches you like a scientist making a new discovery. His touch is exploring. He rolls the sensitive bud between his fingers, observing the way your body folds in response.

“Sei! Ah… sensitive!”

“I know.”

You ogle at him, only getting him to laugh with a bit of mischief in his voice. And you get reminded at this moment that this is who he is. Seijurō is a learner, getting his kick in mastering new skills. And for a man that has never done it before, he is surprisingly skilled in touching your body. As his lips trail down your abdomen to your navel, you hold your breath. On the moment, countless thoughts cross your mind. Did you shave this morning? What if he finds out about this one mole on your pubis and freaks out? Doesn’t it look a bit weird down there?

“Good lord…”

Fuck.

You panic even more upon hearing his exclamation; what does it mean?!

“My love, are all vulvas like yours? Because it looks so pretty…”

“Huh?”

You’re stunned, speechless. It isn’t quite the compliment you could ever wish for. To be honest, you’ve been too scared to take a proper look at your own cunt before, so all the sense you have of it comes from what you’ve gathered from your touch. You’re familiar with the ridges, soft bulging parts and folds, but what has always been mere anatomy to you, seems to be art in Seijurō’s eyes. His curious finger runs through your slit, separating the lips as you blush furiously. His movements are teasing – you wonder if he’s doing it purposely or is it just a mishap of his exploring. Either way, you bite back your whimpers, watching him brush against your clitoris softly, while you squirm.

“Sei that’s uh…”

“Here? You want my touch here, love?”

You nod eagerly, observing the way he looks at you from between your legs, finger gently circling around your clit. Your hips buck forward, setting a rhythm to which he adapts his moves.

“You’re getting wet… do you mind if I put a finger in?”

“Please!”

You quickly cover your mouth, surprised by how needy you sounded just now. Such tone has never gotten out of you; except late at night, in the solitude of your room when you’d think of him, frustrated fingers toying with your clit as you would almost cry thinking about how much you craved Seijurō’s touch. But now that you have it, it’s a different thing. It’s much more intense, like your skin is a fragile flame, and his touch is fuel. He pours, your flame grows, and grows, and grows.

“Fuck… I…” You pant, far from expecting his fingers to know your cunt so well – isn’t that supposed to be his first time, too?!

“Everything’s alright?” he asks between two kisses on your inner thighs.

Your lips tremble, one arm pressed against your forehead while your other hand holds the bed sheets like your life depends on it.

“I think I’m close” you finally manage to say.

“Want me to stop?”

“…” you think for a moment, too overwhelmed to have an idea of what you truly want – but you do give reason to your body, eventually, “Don’t stop.”

He leaves a sweet peck on the skin of your thigh, working his fingers till you squirm, your warm walls pushing him out as you reach your orgasm – first one that he’s brought you to. He props his body up to kiss you with all the love he has for you, and you pull him close, goosebumps covering your skin when you feel his naked body against yours. He’s so soft, so loving, it can almost make you cry.

He’s just… love. That’s what he is, the embodiment of love.

“Baby, should we go all the way?”

You nod, kissing him again, and again, drunk on him.

“Please say it with your sweet voice” he murmurs against your lips.

“Seijurō, please make love to me.”

He nods, the tenderness in his eyes giving you the kind of warmth you’ve always craved. It stays, even when he gets up to get a condom, and even when he stands before you, hard-on in his palm as he rolls the rubber on it. You look with stars in your eyes when he hovers above you, leaving a peck on your forehead.

“I’m going in, alright?”

“Yeah” you breathe out.

Your nervous, trying to distract yourself of the stinging feeling when his head pushes in, so you look at his face. His half-lidded eyes, his parted lips as his hot breath fans on your face, and the contraction of his shoulders as his hold himself above you.

“Are you good, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, feeling tears coming up. You can’t tell if you’re just overwhelmed or if it’s that novel pain you feel in that part of your body. Seijurō’s furrow his eyebrows in concern, stilling as he looks at you.

“Shall I stop?”

“Let’s… don’t move. I wanna get used to it.”

“Sure?”

You nod, take big breaths to calm yourself down. Leaving kisses after kisses on your forehead, you feel yourself relax a bit, eventually giving him the thumbs-up to push deeper. And he does, slowly, carefully, like your pussy is the most precious place in the world and that he, a mere mortal, should only thread carefully around it.

“Here you go” he coos “taking me so well…”

You mewl, hands wrapped around his neck, as he starts his slow thrusts. You wonder for a minute if he’s pacing himself as to be careful, or because he’s afraid of not being able to hold himself back overwise. Either way, you slowly find pleasure in the feeling of his cock roaming inside your walls – in and out, deep and slow. Seijurō’s soft grunts falls in your ear, making you shiver.

“You feel… ah… so good, love” his voice is slightly more high-pitched, hints of desperation tinting his timbre.

“Please, faster…”

“Is that what you want, hm?”

“Yeah” you moan out as your hips buck to meet the movements of his.

He pants, the look in his eyes being something you’ve never seen before. It’s not something you can comprehend, but seeing that light danse in his amber irises, combined with his slender finger toying with your clit, you feel your high build up. And explosion of sensations, taking your entire soul to another dimension as you squeal his name, holding on to him like he’s your saviour.

“Fuck, I…”

You giggle in surprise, not ever recalling hearing him swear before. But can he be blamed, when the tight hold your pussy has on him is just so heavenly?

“I’m… love, I’m cumming!”

Those words alone send you into a frenzy, the song of both your moans filling up the room, the same way his hot seed fills up the condom, seconds before he gives out, head falling on your chest.

“I love you” you whisper, just a bit louder than the erratic beat of your hearts.

He looks up at you, incapable of voicing an answer, but you’ve known Seijurō’s face well enough to read his thoughts.

You’re his biggest victory, he believes, being here in this bed, closer to you than he’s ever been before.

#here you go!!!#crazy how most of it was written during my break at work lol #but I hope you enjoy it bby <3 #sorry it took forever #akashi seijuro #knb #kuroko no basuke #akashi x reader #knb x reader #akashi smut #knb smut

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before-it-felt-like-a-sin · 4 months

Note

Prompt or hcs where teen Nat does pizza delivery for $$ please

Like your family orders a pepperoni and a pineapple and she pulls up and you bond over your mutual hate of pineapple. Order from the same place again to see her and strike something up.

Talk to You

This is so cute! I wrote Natalie as a lot cooler than she is in canon (we know she's a loser) but I really like this one <3

I might also write a part two to this but I need to put something out this week haha

Warnings: none

-----------------------------------------------------

You sat on your couch, reading, when you heard your doorbell ring.

"I'll get it!" You called to your parents. They had ordered the pizza about an hour ago, and to say you were hungry was an understatement.

You opened the door, expecting the normal delivery guy. His name was like Carl or something. You kind of felt bad for forgetting. But instead of an awkward, gangly boy, a very pretty girl was standing outside your door.

Natalie Scatorccio. You knew who she was, of course. Not only did she play for the only relevant sports team at your high school, but she was infamous for being a bit of a delinquent. Not that you minded. It hadn't kept you from crushing on her for years. And here she was. Standing outside your door. With pizza. And you were wearing a pair of ratty sweats and a tee shirt that absolutely didn't fit. Not to mention your lack of makeup and your hair was a mess. Not the ideal look for seeing your crush.

"Oh! Hey!" You said, taking the pizza from her, "Natalie, right? I didn't know you delivered pizza."

"Yeah, it's Natalie. Or Nat. Either one is fine. And you're... y/n? I can't believe that you're someone who eats pineapple on pizza. It's basically sacrilege to me as an Italian."

"You may have gotten my name right, but you're so wrong about the pineapple thing. My dad loves it though, so we get one with pineapple for him. The other is for me and my mom." As you set the pizza on the coffee table, you realized you didn't have your wallet on you. "Shit. I'm really sorry. I don't have my wallet near me. Can you wait a sec while I grab it? Feel free to come in."

Before she could respond, you had turned around to walk up the stairs to your bedroom. She awkwardly stepped in the threshold of your door and waited for your return.

She had seen you before at school, but she didn't realize how pretty you were until now. She was debating leaving her number written on a napkin when you raced back down the stairs.

"Here you go!" You handed her two $20 bills. "That should cover the pizza plus the tip, right?"

"Uh, yeah. It should," she replied, pocketing the cash. "See you around?"

"Hey, if you keep delivering, you probably be here again next week," you said as she walked out the door. She turned back to smile at you.

As you picked the pizza boxes up to bring them into the kitchen, you decided that you were going to make the pizza girl fall in love with you if that meant getting pizza every night.

-----------------------------------------------------

You found yourself in the same position the next Friday night. Your parents had ordered pizza. You were reading a book on the couch. But this time, you were hopeful that you'd open the door to see Natalie.

When the doorbell rang, you were ready. This time, you were a bit more presentable. Mascara and lipgloss. And a real outfit. You were irresistible, goddammit.

Opening the door, you were yet again faced with Natalie holding your two pizzas.

"Is this going to be a weekly thing?" She asked, handing you your boxes.

"If you want it to be," you joked, taking the pizza. "Although, this time I have my wallet. Not wasting your time."

"Damn. I don't get to stand awkwardly in your doorway this time," she said, leaning on the doorframe.

"Mm. Sorry to disappoint. I'll make sure to note that for next time." You handed her two twenties again.

She took them from your hands and smiled before walking away. You shut the door behind her and cringed. This was supposed to be the day she asked you out. Goddammit.

It was fine, right? You just needed to formulate a game plan. You'd just have to be hotter next time. Maybe forget your wallet again. Hell, at this point, you debated just asking her for her number.

No. You wouldn't do that. For the fantasy to come true she has to ask you out. That's the rule.

God, you were a mess.

-----------------------------------------------------

You'd seen her at school all week. She'd nod, or smile, and even said hi one day. Today had to be the day she finally asked you out. Right?

Yet again, it was Friday evening. Two pizzas on the way. Makeup was on. Outfit was cute. Hair was pulled back with some framing your face. It was perfect.

The knock on the door startled you out of your book. She was here.

You walked over to the door and opened it. There she was, standing with the two pizza boxes. Gorgeous as ever.

"Making this a habit, huh?" She asked, handing the boxes over.

"Maybe I just want to see you. Did you ever think of that?" You respond, taking them.

"You see me at school every day, so I'm not sure that's the truth. I think you just really like pizza."

"Hm. I guess we'll never know, then."

"One of life's greatest mysteries. Why y/n's family orders pizza every Friday night."

"Fuck off. Also, here." You hand her the two twenties yet again.

"Thanks," she says. She smiles before shutting the door.

Shit. She didn't ask you out. Again. Your parents were going to get really sick of this pizza thing soon.

As you walked to the kitchen, you noticed something on the top napkin. Someone had written on it. When you picked it up, you saw that it was a phone number. When you read the note, you nearly lost it.

"You don't have to order a pizza to talk to me, you know. But here's my number." The note read. Below was her phone number.

It took all your strength not to call her right then. You knew she was at work, but that didn't matter. Well, it did. But only because you knew she wouldn't pick up. And you didn't want to look too desperate.

Instead, you brought the pizza to the kitchen and called your parents in. You'd eat dinner, and then call her. Or even later, maybe. You weren't sure when she got off, but you knew the pizza place closed at 10.

It was going to be a long few hours.

-----------------------------------------------------

You looked at the clock for the third time in the last five minutes. As expected, it read 10:12. You decided not to call until 10:17. That way, you wouldn't look too desperate, or like you were waiting for a specific time. Five more minutes. You could do it.

Once again, you picked up your book and tried to read. Instead, you started stressing about what you were going to say to Natalie when you called her. God, why was this so hard.

Finally, after five excruciating minutes, you picked up your phone and dialed the number Natalie left on the napkin. It rang once, then twice, and halfway through the third, when you were about to give up, she picked up.

"Hello?" She said.

"Hi. This is y/n. I called the right number, right? You're Natalie?" You asked.

"Yeah, it's Nat. I didn't realize it was you at first."

"Yeah, sorry. I didn't know when you got off work so I don't know when to call and I didn't want to call while you were at work, so I called after you would be closed. Which is now."

She laughed at your rambling. "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you called at all. It was kind of a jump to assume you liked me just because you kept ordering pizza."

"Well, I ordered the pizza because I like pizza. But you were a bonus. I can't really complain if a pretty girl is delivering my dinner to me."

"I think I can do better than just deliver you dinner. How do you feel about going out with me tomorrow?" She asked.

"Oh, I'd really like that," you replied, smiling. Your mission was successful.

"Perfect. I'll pick you up at seven, if that works for you?"

"See you then."

"See you then. Night, y/n."

"Night Nat."

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets showtime #yellowjackets season 1 #natalie scatorccio #natalie yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio x curvy! reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x fem reader #natalie scatorccio x you #natalie scatorccio x y/n #teen natalie scatorccio #teen natalie #nat scatorccio

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