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revasserium · 8 months

Note

Can i request OPLA zoro where he doesn't get along with reader but calls her my girl in front of a baratie waiter who was flirting with her.

my girl

zoro; 2,438 words; fluff, kinda enemies to lovers, fem!reader, straw hat!reader, lots of banter, slow...burn?

summary: just cause you don't see eye to eye doesn't mean zoro's down to watch you get hit on while he's in the same bar, either.

a/n: again. i've got no excuse. pls continue to send more requests feed my opla!zoro obsession u__u

it is perhaps what therapists and psychiatrists would call an incompatibility of character. or maybe something about you and him that simply acted like two jigsaw pieces from completely different puzzles. or maybe luffy had just jinxed it when he’d said the first time that he sensed some “tension amongst the crew”, but it’s no secret that you and zoro don’t exact see eye to eye.

in fact, sanji thinks, it might only be a matter of time before you each try to take the other’s eyes out permanently.

“you’re really not worried?” he asked luffy as they’d watched zoro and you bicker all the way down the wobbling boardwalk leading up to the baratie, you sniping at zoro for getting in your way and zoro biting back something equally acerbic and childish about you being too clumsy to be a good pirate.

“huh? why would i be worried? they get along just fine!” luffy had laughed, eyes bright and round as he’d readjusted his hat and bounded off towards the entrance, whooping about being hungry enough to take down an entire sea cow.

“wh —”

“bit rich, since you and zoro are always at each other’s throats, no?”

nami bumps sanji’s arm as she strolls by him with a stack of empty crates. sanji squawks, readjusting his own bags before jogging after her.

“c’mon, you know that’s different!”

nami smirks but doesn’t grace that with an answer, instead, she lets her eyes flicker back to where you and zoro are still snarking at each other even as the bewildered looking fishman at the front leads you all around back to the kitchen entrance.

“— wouldn’t have been in that situation if you’d just —”

“yeah? and if i’d just stayed put like you said, the entire going merry would’ve gone up in smoke cause last i checked, wood is very flammable!”

“the merry’s not that fragile.”

“you wanna bet?”

“yeah, maybe i do —”

“what’s goin’ on here? didn’t i tell you lot to get lost?” zeff’s gruff voice interrupts your bickering as the peg-legged chef looks from zoro to you and then the rest of the crew, “gotta new one, didya? don’t remember you from the last time these idiots were here.”

“she’s barely an upgrade from the clown head —”

you slam your heel into the toe of zoro’s boot and he hisses, nearly dropping his armful of crates.

“what he means is that i’m the brains of the operation —”

“we don’t need brains —”

“oh, so you’re admitting that you didn’t have any before i got here?”

zoro glares, dropping the crates as luffy pushes past you both to clap zeff on the shoulder and offer him a huge stack of berry.

“we came to pay you back for the meal last time! and to buy a new one! and… maybe some extra food stuff if you’ve got it.”

zeff opens his mouth to answer but it’s drowned out by the sound of your voice as you jab a finger into zoro’s chest.

“— just because you can’t hold more than one cohesive thought in your head at once doesn’t mean that —”

“— what’s that even supposed to mean? like you can think about two things at once?”

“enough! you two — outta the kitchen, now! i won’t have your lovesick teenage yappin’ distractin’ my line chefs!”

you both jump at zeff’s voice, and an unpleasant heat creeps into your cheeks as you realize that the entire kitchen had indeed gone very quiet, most of the white-clad workers staring at you and zoro.

“i need a drink,” zoro says, rolling his shoulders as he sidesteps you and pushes his way out of the kitchen.

“look, sir, i didn’t mean —” you take half a step forward but zeff jabs a finger at the doors still swinging in zoro’s wake.

“i said out!”

you glance between zeff and the rest of your crew for a split second before turning and scrambling from the kitchen, looking abashed.

“oh no, c’mon zeff, you didn’t need to yell at her like that —” sanji sighs as he tries to go after you, but nami nails him in the stomach with one of her arms.

“nope. this is something they need to work out on their own. and you’re on grocery shopping duty with me, remember?” she flashes him a smile even as he deflates slightly and turns back to the work of haggling rations out of the baratie’s storerooms.

you find zoro already posted up at the bar, even though the hour is still early enough that there’s only a few other patrons, mainly keeping to themselves. you fight the urge to march up to him and give him an earful about embarrassing you in front of sanji’s old master like that but zeff’s words about making a scene keeps your lips clamped shut.

instead, you seat yourself as far from zoro as humanly possible and wait for the bartender to sidle over. he flashes you a winning smile, making no attempt to conceal the way his eyes drag from your hair to your face and then down to your cleavage, where his gaze rests for a beat too long before he clears his throat.

“what can i get you, gorgeous? something sweet and bubbly, perhaps? or maybe something a bit more dark and… seductive? i can have a custom drink whipped up for you in a few if you’d like… on the house, of course.”

he shoots you a wink that has your eyebrows hiking up your forehead.

“laying it on thick, are we?”

the bartender shrugs, seemingly unbothered by your lack of enthusiasm.

“place like this doesn’t exactly breed subtlety.”

you make a noncommittal noise before sighing, “i’ll have a dirty martini, shaken not stirred, straight, with a twist, please.”

to his credit, the bartender doesn’t miss a single beat, “ah, a woman of taste, though i’ll admit that i prefer my martini’s naked instead of shaken, hm?”

he waggles his eyebrows and if it weren’t for the loud cough from down the bar drawing the bartender’s attention, you would’ve rolled your eyes.

at the opposite end of the bar, zoro taps his empty drink glass against the waxy hardwood, a vein ticking in his jaw. he’d listened to the entire exchange with a growing annoyance festering in the depths of his stomach. and here he was, hoping for a moment of quiet without the sound of your voice yammering in his ear. he shoots the bartender a glowering look as the man refills his drink and tries to make his way back down the bar to you.

zoro tosses the entire drink back in one and sets the empty glass down with a loud clack, clearing his throat as the bartender turns to stare at him. he holds the man’s gaze for a full three seconds before looking pointedly down at his glass and the bartender’s face visibly reddens.

“here you are, sir — the last three are on the house.”

the bartender lines up five identical drinks in front of zoro before marching away and zoro has to give it to the guy. he does make a good, stiff drink.

still, as he tries his hardest not to glance down towards where you’re sitting, sipping slowly at your martini, he can’t help overhearing the stilted stabs at conversation floating down the length of the empty bar. the bartender lavishes you with questions, asking about your travels, who you came with, where you’re from. you, for your part, never give him an answer more than three words long — travels were good, my crew, an autumn island.

zoro briefly wonders why you don’t tell the guy off like you so often did him. then, he briefly wonders if the fact that you’re always so easily set off by him means something. then, he not-so-briefly wonders why, if he’s always been so bothered by you, that he’s still thinking about you in the precious few hours he has to himself.

he clicks his tongue and downs another drink just as you finish your first.

“c’mon darlin’ — just a hint — what about the first letter? shall i try to guess?”

you sigh into your now empty glass as the bartender asks your name for the third time in a row, though to no avail. suddenly, a warm, solid presence appears next to you and the next thing you know, zoro’s arm is brushing up against yours as he leans over the bar to bear down at the bartender.

“right, now if you’re done trying t’pick up my girl, i think i’d like the check.”

the bartender blinks up at zoro, uncomprehending for a second before a blotchy redness seeps into his cheeks.

“y-your — you haven’t said a word to each other since either of you got here!”

you swallow passed a bewildered laugh as you glance up at zoro to find a challenge clear in his eyes. you slowly swivel back to the bartender with a light smile.

“ever heard of a lover’s quarrel?”

the bartender sputters as he stares between the pair of you for another long second before scurrying off to fetch the check. zoro chuckles under his breath, his earrings clinking softly in the dim light.

“damn — i really wanted another drink,” you say, staring at your empty glass.

wordlessly, zoro plops one of his in front of you. it’s the second to last.

you bring it up to your nose for a sniff before making a face.

“god that smells awful!”

“fine then, more for me.”

“i didn’t say i wouldn’t drink it!”

you bring the glass to your lips for a small sip. it’s tastier than you’d imagined but it still burns a line down your throat as you shiver.

“h-holy shit —” you cough, wiping at your mouth, “how many of these have you had?”

zoro shrugs, sipping on his own glass with a careless ease, “dunno. don’t really keep count.”

“ugh… this could knock out a war elephant…” you make another face before you take a second sip.

“figures you can’t hold your liquor, drinkin’ whatever girly shit you ordered.”

you round on him, “martinis are not girly!”

“tch. whatever.”

you settle into a huffy silence. zoro’s arm is still pressed against yours and neither of you makes to pull away. for a while, the only sounds in the bar are the soft clink of ice on glass and the light, liquid splashing of the ocean waves.

“why didn’t you tell him off?” zoro’s voice is quiet and when you turn to look at him, it’s to find him staring. you hold his gaze steady and don’t look away.

“why should i? he’s no one to me.”

“you don’t seem to have a problem yellin’ at me.”

you shrug, your eyes flickering back to the too-strong drink in your hand.

“i don’t tend to waste my breath on people i don’t really care about,” you say, your voice soft and careful and honest. zoro sucks in a slow breath, his mildly alcohol addled brain trying to process what you’d just said but his thoughts are interrupted by a peel of loud, raucous laughter echoing in from the dining room beyond.

“c’mon, sounds like dinner is served,” you say, grinning as you push off the bar, jerking your head towards the dining room door.

zoro lets out the breath before downing the rest of his drink and leaving the empty glass on the bar to follow you.

at dinner, you bicker less than usual and zoro is even more quiet than he normally is. though he wastes no time ordering another round for the table. no one really comments till zeff comes round at the end with the check.

“dinner’s already paid for but i was told that this is for the ‘lovebirds from the bar’,” he says, as he drops the drinks bill in front of zoro with a deadpan sort of look.

for a full ten seconds, no one moves. and then, usopp’s jaws hit the floor as sanji’s eyebrows jerk towards the ceiling. nami sits back with a satisfied smirk as luffy nods happily at the two of you before turning to grin at sanji.

“see? told you they get along fine!”

sanji has the decency to sputter just as usopp leans forward to point between you and zoro.

“wait… whaattt?”

you make to tug out your wallet but zoro slaps a stack of berry on top of the bill.

“give our compliments to the bartender,” he says with a slight smirk as zeff takes the money, glancing up at the two of you.

“yeah? what’d he make that’s got you so impressed?”

you purse your lips as you make a show of shrugging, waving a nonchalant hand through the air.

“oh, just a mean dirty martini.”

zeff lets out a loud bark of laughter as he takes the berry and clomps back towards the kitchens, shaking his head. zoro chuckles beside you as he stretches an arm over his head and lets it settle casually on the booth back behind you.

later, as everyone is making their way back towards the going merry, nami catches up to you on the docks, looping an arm through yours and pinning you with a meaningful look just as sanji sidles up to zoro and bumps him with a shoulder.

“so…” nami says, grinning as she tugs you forward a few steps.

“so.” sanji clears his throat, casting zoro a sidelong glance.

“wanna tell me what that was about?” nami asks.

“care to elaborate on that back there?” sanji questions.

you and zoro both take a deep, long breath. zoro glances up to see the way you toss a lock of hair over your shoulder, your bright laughter carrying back on the breeze. you allow yourself a smile, and you don’t have to turn to feel zoro’s eyes on you as both of you turn to your respective companions and say —

“i’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

opla!zoro reqs are (as always) open!!

#one piece #one piece live action #opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #x reader #opla #one piece netflix #opla zoro x reader #one piece live action x you #one piece live action x reader #roronoa zoro fluff #one piece fluff #opla fluff #roronoa zoro imagines #roronoa zoro scenarios #floofy floof floof

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months

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Propaganda

Machiko Kyō (Rashomon, Floating Weeds, Older Brother Younger Sister)— Considered an early sex symbol in Japanese cinema. Also just an ethereal beauty who can also go feral/unhinged in a glorious way.

Judy Garland (Meet Me In St. Louis, A Star is Born, Summer Stock)— Judy is the GOAT when it comes to classic movie musicals. The voice of an angel who deserved so much better than she got. She can sing she can dance she can act she's a triple threat. Though she had a turbulent personal life (her treatment as a child star by the studio system makes me mad as hell like Louis b Mayer fight me ((she was made to believe that she was physically unattractive by the constant criticism of film executives who made her feel ugly and who manipulated her onscreen appearance by capping her teeth and using discs in her nose to change its shape and Mayer called her "my little hunchback" like imagine hearing that as a child and not having damage)) she always goddamn delivered on screen and in any performance she gave. She began in vaudeville performing with her sisters and was signed to MGM at 13. Starting out in supporting parts especially paired with mickey Rooney in a bunch of films (she's the best part tbh) she eventually transferred to the lead role. She is best known for her starring role in movie musicals like the iconic Wizard of Oz (somewhere over the rainbow still hits hard and is ranked the top film song of all time), meet me in St. Louis (Judy singing have your self a merry little Christmas brings tears to the eyes she is that powerful), the Harvey girls (she looks like a technicolor dream and sings a catchy af song about trains), Easter parade ( dancing and singing with Fred Astaire), for me and my gal, the pirate, and summer stock ( with pal Gene Kelly who she helped when he was starting out and he helped her when she was struggling). But she also does non- singing just as well like the clock ( her first movie where she sings no songs and is an underrated ww2 era romance), her Oscar nominated a star is born ( like the man that got away she put her whole soul in that and I have beef with the fact she lost to grace kelly ((whom I love but like still not even her best work)), and judgement at Nuremberg (a courtroom drama about the nazi war criminal trials). Outside of film she made concert appearances to record-breaking audiences, released 8 studio albums, and had her own Emmy-nominated tv series. She was the youngest (39) and first female recipient of the Cecil B DeMille award for lifetime achievement in the film industry. Girl was a lifelong democrat and was a financial and moral supporter of many causes including the civil rights movement (she was at the March on Washington and held a press conference to protest the 16th street Baptist church bombings). She was a friend of the Kennedy family and would call jfk weekly often ending the calls by singing the first few lines of somewhere over the rainbow (she thought of them as Gemini twins).She was a member of the committee for the first amendment which was formed in response to the HUAC investigations. Though she died far too young and tragically she remains an icon for her work and her life. As a girl who didn't feel like i was as pretty as everyone else I have always felt a connection to Judy and I just really love her.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Machiko Kyō:

Judy:

Judy's voice alone qualifies her for at least top ten hottest HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMEN. She was a truly incredible swing singer, with a stunning voice on top of her technique. Her short dark hair looked incredible in just about any style. Have I mentioned her swagger? I can’t do it justice with words. She had swagger. She was funny as hell, and clever too. Incredibly charming and cool. I adore her.

Her eyes, her voice have bewitched me

I mean how can you beat the one and only Judy? She's beautiful, her smile is contagious, the way she sings with her whole body. You can't help but love her.

youtube

Beautiful woman, love her singing voice. And she can do everything between happy or silly and angry or heartbroken

#judy garland #machiko kyō #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3

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wqnwoos · 11 months

Text

seventeen & touch-starved s/o (vocal unit ver.)

hhu ver. — requested by anon

JEONGHAN.

he’s so soft :(

like immediately scoops u up

talks to you very gently while he holds you,, about literally ANYTHING

jeonghan doesn’t notice how close you’ve sidled up to him until you tug on his shirt a little. he’s been wrapped up in conversation with mingyu, riling him up with friendly teasing and laughing as mingyu pouts defensively.

at least, until you appear out of nowhere, brushing your arm against his and sending him glances from the side of your eyes; he can tell you think he hasn’t noticed, but he definitely has. he always notices, especially when it’s you.

which is how he ends up cutting off his teasing, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer, resting a hand on your thigh and murmuring a quick “you okay?” in your ear. and it’s only when you nod, satisfied, that he returns to the conversation.

JOSHUA.

i feel like he intuitively knows when u need him

hand holder for SURE have u guys seen the recent gose 😭

probably rubs your back or something too :((

“joshua, we are going to get lost.” you pronounce the moment you see the bustling crowds of the carnival in front of you.

your boyfriend scoffs lightly. “come onnn. we’ll be fine.”

“hello? are you seeing this?” with a wide sweep of your arm, you gesture to the horde with wide eyes, unconsciously pressing closer to him already.

“don’t worry, baby. we won’t get separated.” joshua reassures, and then pauses, before dramatically announcing — “ever.”

you blink at him under the coloured lights and merry-go-round music. “i can’t tell if that was heartwarming or incredibly cheesy.”

“both?” he suggests with a smirk, before holding his hand out to you. “come on.”

“josh, don’t let go of me, okay?” you say nervously, as you approach the crowds.

he brushes a kiss over your joined hands with half a smile. “never.”

WOOZI.

omg. soooo flustered but equally as pleased

also have you seen those arms?

he’s an excellent hugger nobody can change my mind

jihoon can tell there’s something on your mind. you keep looking over at him from your place on the couch as he works, sometimes opening your mouth like you’re about to say something but then changing your mind last minute. and when it happens for the seventh time — yes, he counted — he finally turns to you, sliding off his headphones with raised eyebrows.

“can i help you?” he asks, teasing lilt to his tone.

you’re already looking at him with widened eyes. jihoon cocks his head to the side — when you pull out the puppy gaze, it means you want something. unfortunately for him, he gives in every time.

(how can he help it, when you look like that?)

“hug?” you say hopefully, voice pitched a little higher than usual.

he should have guessed. jihoon opens his arms with a mock sigh, gesturing for you to come and sit on his lap — ignoring both your satisfied smile and his warmed cheeks.

DOKYEOM.

his smile itself feels like a fucking hug so. idek where to start. this man is a safety net :(

HES SO WARM i feel like he gives the best cuddles

loops his arms all the way around you and squeezes to make you laugh too

“seokmin~! i need a hug!” you declare, the moment you step into the house. you might say it dramatically, but you mean it entirely — today has sucked ass. “i demand it, even!”

at your greeting, seokmin sticks his head out the kitchen, lips already curved into a gentle smile. “what happened, angel?” he soothes, opening his arms and entangling you in his embrace.

“bad day. awful.” you describe shortly, already leaning into him gratefully. “less talking. more hugging.”

“yes, boss!” he mock salutes over your shoulder, giggling as he tightens his grip, and with the sound of his laughter, the burdens of today seem to fall away — at least for a short while, you’ve found your reprieve.

SEUNGKWAN.

he will drop anything and everything to give you what you need and that makes me UPSET

always goes into full caretaker mode AHHH i love him

probably sways you guys back and forth when you hug

seungkwan takes one look at your sleepy form in his doorway, and he freaks.

by freaks, you mean he pulls you inside, kisses your cheek in greeting, and scolds you for not wrapping up warm enough, all in the space of a minute. and then he’s cupping your face with warm hands. “what happened, baby? you didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

you scrunch your nose sleepily. “sorry. i missed you.”

“aish, don’t apologise, just come here,” he grumbles, to hide the embarrassingly delighted smile growing across his face.

“warm,” you say drowsily, as you lean into his embrace with droopy eyes and slightly slurred words. “best hugger. you’re the best hugger, seungkwannie, you know that? you’re my favourite hugger.”

he kisses your forehead then, with a soft murmur against your skin. “yeah, baby. you’re my favourite too.”

an requested by an anon who read the hhu version!! i hope you like it @ anon, let me know!! 💗💗💗

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blackopals-world · 7 months

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How successful do you think Fellow would be? Honestly part of me thinks he might get beaten up by Jester!Yuu in a kinda slapstick style for bringing a bad name to funny little silly guys

Let me answer that with this

Circus Jem

Fellow tries to claim a new attraction.

Fellow felt very lucky. Very lucky indeed that such a perfect doll waltzed right in.

One so perfect they looked as if they belonged already, no need to dress them up.

Sure the others that came along were just a bonus now that they brought such a gift.

Their face was painted porcelain with a golden star and pastel lips. All dolled up in ribbons and bells. Their clothes were designed to look like the wearer had been pulled from a circus poster.

He could already see those lovely ribbons pulled taunt like puppet strings.

Fellow watched his prey flit from attraction to attraction their charm sending waves of excitement through the other patrons.

They gathered and praised their looks and asked for pictures and took videos. The little clown juggled and danced doing tricks on the merry-go-round.

A mascot. Yes! They were perfect to play that part.

Fellow waited until the little one had separated from the group that fawned over them like a beloved toy. He even laughed at that thought knowing he would steal it from them.

"Are you enjoying your day here?" He asked leaning over the entertainer.

"Absol-tully! I love it here!" They practically chirped.

"And your group? Where are they?" He asked examining his prize more closely. They were in good condition, no visible marks at least.

"Oh, I wanted to get some cotton candy. Villy would never let me have any. But it's my favorite treaty." They whined their lower lip poked out.

Fellow felt an arrow in his chest. He understood why the clown was dotted on. Their strange speech pattern and childish mannerisms could draw anyone in.

"You poor thing. Why don't you come with me. I show you the best candy stall in the park. I won't tell a soul what you did." He said taking the jester by the hand. "

He led them away deeper into the heart of the park.

"I hope you don't mind me saying this but you fit in quite well here. It's a shame you won't be staying longer. You've really brightened this humble park." Fellow said in sorrow.

"I know! This place is just so cozy but also cold. Chilly but no cheese! It feels like home though." They said. Fellow didn't get the meaning behind those words.

" I could use your help to change that. You could stay here. I promise you'll love it. Fun and games every day and an adoring crowd to perform for every night. You would always fit in among the others. All the cotton candy you want and no one to tell you no." Fellow lead the clown to a special room away from the park. A space with a lovely cage just for his new doll.

"Em. No, thanks! I'm not just some clown you know. I'm a jester! As such I need my people. As long as they're happy I'm happy too. But I can't make them happy if I'm far far away. That would make me super sad." They said agast "Hey wait. This isn't the candy place."

"Unfortunately for you, it's not. But don't worry my precious doll. I bring you some to decorate your new cage." Fellow laughed as he raised his staff.

Only for it to be knocked form his hand.

"You lied! You aren't Honest at all. In fact, you aren't even fun. That makes me mad! And I hate being mad!" The jester growled as they grabbed the fox by the front of the shirt.

Fellow struggled to get out of the iron grip.

"Hey wait! I-" He tried to say.

"I'm bored. You're boring me with the flip-flapping of your lips. Now you have to take responsibility and entertain me funny man."

The group was in chaos. They had lost Yuu!

There was no telling where they went. Were they kidnapped?! That clown has no survival instincts and no sense of fear at all.

Lilia suggested they ask if anyone had seen them after all a brightly dressed jester is hard to miss.

And lucky them they found their missing clown standing on a stage with Fellow's staff in hand.

"Come one come all! And see a wonderful show! See the disgrace that is the Fallen Ringmaster! Watch him dance upon my strings!" Yuu commanded the fox to do tricks like a dog. "Jump Fellow! Now Speak! Jump through the hoop and don't get burned!"

The audience was losing it as they laughed at the foolish display. Honest seemed to be under some sort of hypnotic spell but was still fully aware of his torment.

Yuu figured out the staff was a magic tool to control people. They were such a smart cookie.

Unfortunately, the spell didn't last long as Fellow regained his body and turned to attack the little clown.

The group charged the stage to stop him only for-

*CRACK*

Yuu stood there holding a broken staff-well stick in their hands after they swung it full force across Fellow's head.

The fox went down with a thud after getting a definite concussion.

"Oopies!" The jester giggled, bashfully hiding the bloodied staff behind their back.

#jester!yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland yuu #fellow honest #playful land event #vil schoenheit #twst vil #twisted wonderland vil #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland lilia

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undiscovered-horizon · 8 months

Text

A sharp tongue - Shanks x Reader

SUMMARY: Flyting is the art of exchanging poetic insults. Arriving at a port town, Shanks is willing to face the local flyting champion. But when he finally meets you, it's not insults that come to his mind.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.3k

a/n: it was either Shanks or Nikolai Lantsov

The tavern appeared somewhat rugged and unkept in the low, yellow light of a few candles. They weren’t enough to make all of the interior visible. While most of the tables and patrons sitting at them seemed to disappear in the darkness, the bar counter was like a light in the tunnel; a lighthouse for all those looking for a drink, a good chat or the entrance to the demimonde.

Aisha, a rather frail woman with an ashy skin tone, was drying glasses and cups, humming an old shanty, when the door to the Blue Dragon tavern swung open. Used to the noise of Marines and pirates alike, the bartender only cocked her eyebrow as she watched the men entering her establishment. As the scourge of the seas usually does, the unfamiliar guests looked rough, although Aisha did make a notice of how politely they carried themselves, no matter how strange that might be.

One of the man, with crimson hair and three scars across his face, sat on the bar stool in front of Aisha. Despite the dark circles around his eyes, the sun damage peppering his skin and dark stubble covering his jaw, the man looked kind. Something about the roundness of his shoulders made him appear smaller, more docile.

“Welcome to Kuri Island, where the Devil bids you farewell,” Aisha announced bitterly. God knows how much she wished to dfind herself anywhere ele but home. “What’re you drinking, lads?”

The pirate captain gave her a smile.

“Give us your best rum and whiskey. We’re kind of celebrating.”

“On it.”

Heavy glass bottles clicked brightly as Aisha set them on the counter. The crewmembers snatched their drinks as soon as they could, taking a short break from their merry conversations to give the bartender a grateful nod. Then, they’d disappear into the darkness of Blue Dragon, their hoarse laughter following them like an echo of yesterday’s joy.

The red-haired man did not move from his spot at the counter and neither did any of his crewmen sit beside him. As she was going about her mundane chores, Aisha kept glancing towards the captain. He stared ahead, lost in thought, and peacefully sipped on the dark rum. Thoughtfulness is rarely a characteristic ascribed to pirates. Nevertheless, there he was - a pirate unlike any other.

The second time Shanks talk to Aisha was on his own volition. She was filleting citruses when he leaned over the bar and spoke in a low voice:

“Who’s that?”

Aisha looked in the direction the red-haired pirate pointed out with a sharp, meaningful nod of his head. Her gaze fell on a character she’s grown quite familiar with. Sitting alone at her table, the silent woman played with an old, silver coin that was no longer used. There was a glass in front of her but it was empty now. Low light of a nearly burnt-out candle played a game of shadows on her face, painting her features once terrifying and once divine.

“A flyter,” Aisha answered. Shanks nodded, clearly pondering something. “Best goddamn one in this part of the waters. They call her Snaketongue. I’ll let you guess why. If you’re feeling up for it, you can try to challenge her.”

Shanks looked at the bartender with a confident but curious grin.

“Wish me luck.”

Aisha chuckled.

“Luck won’t help,” she warned him.

The pirate captain took his glass and bottle of rum only to set them down in front of the mysterious woman. She looked up at him with a quietioningly raised eyebrow but Shanks only sat comfortably in his chair. An adventurous glink in his eye and she knew exactly why he had approached her.

“Out flyt will test your speed and wit,” she began while leaning forward, “reveal a shameful lack of grit.”

Shanks picked up the bottle of rum.

“Whether I win or lose this flyt,” he spoke as he poured himself a glass of alcohol, “your company is much delight.”

He winked at her but she only scoffed.

“If delight is what you seek in a flyt, I’m afraid you’ve found yourself in plight.” The woman leaned on her forearms, her fingers intertwined. The small flame of the candle warmed her face but also have her something of a reverse halo - a cloud of darkness crowned her face. “A man must be out of mind, to approach a snake expecting it not to bite. If you’re a pirate without grit, be honest and admit.”

The red-haired pirate did not let himself be left behind. He also leaned forward, a curious shadow prancing across his handome, rugged face as the struggling flame danced between them. The tension between the strangers almost putting it out.

“Why should my forte be grit, if I can’t charm a woman with it?” Shanks asked before taking a long sip of his rum.

“Perhaps you can’t speak rough because your spirit isn’t tough. Or maybe you’re not man enough?”

Shanks let out a raspy laugh.

“Oh, I am a man, no doubt,” he assured with amusement. “Find your proof among this crowd.” In a casual manner, he pointed over his shoulder towards his scattered, jolly crew. “I am the best pirate around.”

“And yet you’re less harmful than a trout. Looking like a wet dog with a pout.” The woman tilted her head, a dangerous glint appeared in her darkened eyes. Something wicked sprouted in her mind. “The ladies in town seem to be in drought. I don’t suppose you know anything about?”

But Shanks didn’t seem to take much offence in your insult at his prowess. His lips curved into a sly smirk.

“As true as your words might be, I fail to see disgust when you look at me. Your pretty eyes are shining bright. You’re starting to like me, am I right?” he asked with raised eyebrows. It seemed that he already knew the answer and just wanted to rub it in, gloat in his triumphant trick.

The woman pursed her lips and nodded slowly.

“Your words are sweet, I’ll give you that,” she said with a sigh. “It’s starting to amuse me, our little chat. Although I’m still waiting for an insult to be spat.”

“Sharp words are not on my mind when your charm made me blind.” His toothy grin is glistening in the low candlelight. “A more enamouring woman I doubt I will find. So, would you be so kind and agree to be dined?”

She bit her lower lip to stop herself from laughing out loud. Although she shook her head with disapproval, she was undoubtedly amused with his antics.

“How could such an offer be declined?” she asked. “I’m not sure if you’re terrible at flyting or great.” It was both strange and wonderful to hear her speak naturally. “Despite your avid refusal to actually partake in flyting.”

It seemed she really did want Shanks to be at least a little rude. Having said that, she was still debating whether she should think his refusal tedious or alluring.

“Usually I buy a lady a drink before getting mean with her.”

“Does it work for you?”

“Without fail.”

A moment of intimate yet tense silence falls between them; a quietness reserved for pondering and weighing chances. Should she or should she not?

The woman takes Shank’s bottle of rum and pours some into her glass.

“And so I succumb to a charming pirate and his rum. Who knows, maybe he’ll get to make me…” she cut her sentence short and cleared her throat. “Nevermind.”

But he did mind. God only knows how much he did mind.

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verysium · 7 months

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『03』ブルーロック: blue lock recs

冴糸師: sae itoshi

lost to time by @syriiina

nostalgia. it’s delicate but potent. “nostalgia” literally means “the pain from an old wound” in greek. it’s the twinge in your heart far more powerful than memory alone – a feeling of a place where we ache to go again. but in sae’s case, it’s the painful ache in his chest to return to someone that’s already been buried by the sands of the past; the yearning for someone that’s already been lost to time. notes: this fic emotionally destroyed me; heavy angst paired with audio recordings; basically the most gut-wrenching combination ever; smooth chronological plot development; encapsulates the dichotomous pain and pleasure of love; i felt like my heart was healing and hurting at the same time

merry go round by @syriiina

what if you were given another chance? another chance to say all the things you’ve wanted to say, cry all the tears you couldn’t and hear the voice of the person you’ve cherished all your life? sae itoshi was given that chance. just one more chance for your birthday that he’ll never get to spend with you. just another chance at goodbye. notes: at this point this author needs to pay for my therapy; examining the process of grief; almost dreamy and hallucination-inducing atmosphere; idea of letting go; new beginnings; childhood nostalgia; sequel to first fic

to my first love / to my last love by @by-moonflower

when you agreed to date itoshi sae in mid-october of 1993, you never imagined he'd be your first love—whose presence would continue to linger in your life, hauntingly, even if a year, two, or ten came to pass. notes: high school sweethearts to exes to lovers again; examines insecurities of girlhood; idea of love being a process of trying and trying again; reader discovers herself before she discovers others; happy ending; pre-2000s nostalgia; montage/vignette style

come out and haunt me by @alaboadoa

sae is 13 years old when he moves to madrid. his temporary apartment is old and cheap, and worst of all it's haunted. but he finds your company better than nothing, even if you do tend to knock all of his belongings over. notes: incredibly well-written study of sae’s character especially as a pre-teen; honestly would've never expected a ghost AU; this author has such a beautiful mind; finding commonality in exclusion and lack of belonging; a unique rendition of right person, wrong time; loving someone but still not being enough

hungry hearts by @sanzu-sanzu-sanzu

You are Itoshi Sae’s Manager. Fielder of dumb reporter questions and keeper of his schedule. Among many others. notes: their dynamic reminds me of miguel and lyla from the spiderverse or that one kdrama about secretary kim; sae denying that he is in love yet noticing every little detail about reader; their witty banter is so funny; gradual realization of feelings; honestly i think this is how canon sae would fall in love

find love by @tenjiiku

“Mama?” “Yes, little bunny?” You call her by such a name because when she was a toddler she had somewhat of an obsession with playing leap frog with others. The original pet name had been little frog, but it had caused a rather large tantrum, so you never used such a term with her. Her father suggested it. It was the only thing he made that you still used. notes: i don't even need a rec to tell you how good this is; nuanced portrayal of divorce; honestly hit too close to home; idea of marriage not being endgame; slight hint of second-chance romance; love that never fades; sae being emotionally oblivious; for the hopeless romantics

the hanshin expressway by @tenjiiku

He remembers how sad you had looked — gentle, sweet and kindhearted you. And he remembers feeling the urge to hold you. Because it was the first time he voluntarily felt such a gripping emotion. He recalls the way your nimble fingers trembled around your second mug of jasmine tea, and he looks back on the way you turned to him with a forced smile, as if it was the easiest thing to do — to bear yourself and all of your little idiosyncrasies in front of him, no walls, no windows. Just you and him. You, reprimanded for your selfless displays of kindness. Him, admonished for his lack of expressing his. It was hard not to let himself fall into you. notes: literally even the premise of this fic is not for the weak; amnesia tropes are the death of me; prose is so tender and beautiful; sae being the one who now teaches the reader how to love; role reversal; reliving grief; idea of being unable to equate the past and present versions of the person you love; people change and you are helpless to stop it; being unable to return to what once was

rezkinoff / prelude by @tenjiiku

07.01. It is the first day of my break. I am going to journal both my fitness levels and caloric intake because my nutritionist has told me to. I will also note a daily observation so as to look back on my time with certainty that I have spent it properly and because you have told me to. Today’s observation: the heels of my feet are growing calluses and I found a single strand of white hair, still on my head. I need better shoes and hair dye. Perhaps something is in the water. — Itoshi. S notes: one of the most authentic portrayals of sae’s character; sae being emotionally inept but slowly learning; aging but as a graceful process; daily observations of life; the epistolary style makes it a smooth reading experience; ambiguous enough for interpretation

us, again by @ode2rin

in which: itoshi sae returns to the only place on earth he vows to never set foot again. notes: one of the best second-chance romance fics out there; i still think about this fic at night; just the right balance of hurt and comfort; sae and reader both messing it up and finding each other again; dilemma of both loving and hating a person; has a coffee shop scene and a dramatic airport reunion so what is there not to like

scraps by @itoshiexx

you give him all you have. it's time to collect the scraps before there is nothing left. notes: short but packs the most brutal emotional punch at the end; idea of love not being enough; sae pushing reader away; miscommunication; hurt people hurt people; giving up on someone you love most; falling out of love

conversations by @saerins

he’s back home, and you recall the times you’d spoken to him. all the calls you made, then all the calls he made, and then all the times it went to voicemail. notes: i was having a good day until i read this and started violently sobbing; honestly it's a pretty accurate reflection of fame and the troubles it brings for both you and sae; the voicemails crushed something within me; i was grieving for a relationship that never existed; please read when you want a good cry; thank god for the alternate ending here

do stars return? by @hanyjar

your childhood friend leaves, and you question if he’ll ever come back. notes: the way that i ate this shit up with no crumbs. sae itoshi and star metaphors go hand in hand. picture this: you and sae grow up and then he leaves you and then he comes back again. now amplify that and add childhood angst and a sprinkle of poetic language. you're welcome.

凛糸師: rin itoshi

the first snow by @tenjiiku

It’d take him 3 lonely nights for Rin to admit to himself he wanted to see you again. He wonders if he torments you as much as you do him. notes: two-shot that changed the trajectory of my life; this author absolutely nails the slice of life genre every single time; finding beauty in the mundane; realistic depictions of modern love; somewhat slow-burn; dialogue and internal conscience are beautifully written

riptide by @misssleepless12

Concerned with how things were left after U-20, Isagi goes to visit Rin before the end of break. They address it. Sort of. notes: not necessarily a rinsagi shipper but this fic has a stunningly accurate portrayal of MLM romance; no sense of false idealism or over-romanticization; rin and isagi’s natural dynamic is perfectly captured; strong imagery and cultural setting of kamakura; rin’s sarcasm is on point

カイザ: michael kaiser

five dates and a proposal by @by-moonflower

all it takes is five dates for kaiser to fall in love with you and you in him, much to your surprise. notes: this fic actually made me believe in love; strong female character; fear of love and gradual opening up; basically what it feels like to fall in love with someone you never thought you’d actually love; realistic depiction of insecurities

color me blue by @saekkas

in which you need to wrestle your boyfriend, michael kaiser, out of his bed to fulfill a promise: re-dye his hair. notes: domestic fluff; michael being childishly cute; imperfections as perfections; heart-warming snapshot of established couple life; never fails to make me smile when i reread it

#fic recs #bllk #blue lock x reader #blue lock #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader #sae x reader #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #michael kaiser #kaiser x reader

380 notes · View notes

back2bluesidex · 7 months

Text

Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 3 (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok.

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, implied smut

Warnings: Mentions of school bullying, implied smut, multiple pov changes, we got Hoseok's POV too!! mentions of alcohol consumption, a flashback, palpable tension between Hoseok and reader.

Word count: 4.7k

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: The chapter starts with Hoseok's POV. JK's POV is added to the very end of the story. Sorry for the delay. I really struggled with this chapter. But I hope you guys like it. Please share your thoughts, I'd love to talk to you about it. and even if you are only reading the story, I still love you regardless.

Main Masterlist

Chapters:-

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

“It’s so big, dad! It’s so big” the astonishment in Sua’s voice fills Hoseok’ heart with adoration. How come he has given birth and raised such an adorable human being!

Even if ten years ago somebody had told him that he would be raising a daughter alone with very little to no help, he would have laughed at their faces. But now, he can’t even think of a time when Sua wouldn’t be with him to brighten up his day, his life, his entire existence.

“Sua, let’s get into the queue! Fast!” your voice cuts through the thin chill of the air.

Hoseok’s eyes land on your figure and he finds you as beautiful as ever, if not more. He has come across countless women in his life but there are very few who have left any impact on him.

You are definitely one of them.

He knew you had to be special from the moment he witnessed Namjoon apparently struggling to shut his mouth while praising you and your capabilities. Hoseok knows his childhood friend too well and he knows that the man is not someone to be impressed easily. Hence, you had to be really compatible.

But he definitely didn’t expect you to be so attractive.

The moment his eyes met yours, he knew it was going to be hard for him to maintain this doctor-client relationship with you. And he was right. Things are getting even harder because he has to see you in your casual (and pretty) clothing, smiling and laughing with his daughter, and being equally excited about getting in the giant merry-go-round.

One of the very few things that he learnt about you includes the fact that you don’t need a ton of makeup or extravagant dresses to look bold and beautiful. When he saw you at the clinic for the first time, you were wearing a formal blouse and dress pants and yet you looked effortlessly attractive. During both of the outdoor therapy sessions, you chose to wear jeans and tops. And again Hoseok is finding it hard to divert his eyes from you.

On top of that, seeing you and Sua blending and bonding so well, makes him wish for forbidden things that are both too unethical and early for him to wish.

“Daddy! Are you coming or not?” Sua shouts from a distance and that’s when Hoseok realizes that he has been far too lost in his thoughts, or more like, his thoughts of you.

He walked fast towards the steps where you and Sua are standing, the same steps lead you into the small cabin of the giant merry-go-round.

Sua’s shoes clink against the metal floor of the small cabin making both of you and Hoseok laugh at her excitement. She settles at one side of the cabin and gestures to both of you to come inside.

Just as Hoseok is about to step inside, you hold his arm with your small palm. Something warm floods inside Hoseok and he finds this simple, insignificant act way too intimate. He eyes the place where your hand is touching him and then looks into your eyes.

God! Your eyes are so beautiful, probably the most beautiful pair of eyes he has ever seen. He feels heat creeping up his neck.

“You may hear things that will break your heart or unsettle you but I would appreciate it if you could keep your cool and refrain from reacting much.” your voice is low enough to make sure Sua doesn’t hear you. Hoseok understands and nods as you two finally settle inside the cabin. You sit beside Sua while he sits in the opposite direction.

The cabin is almost midair when Hoseok sees your body going rigid, your face losing colors and your eyes shutting on their own accord. On the other hand, Sua seems to be enjoying the view much more than what is expected from a seven year old.

It doesn’t take anyone a second guess to make out that you are acrophobic.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Hoseok voices out of concern, reaching for your hands in the process. You nod to assure your well-being.

Sua whips her head and turns to take a look at you.

“Y/N! Are you afraid of merry-go-rounds?” Sua grips your fingers with her small hands. Hoseok takes his approaching hands back under his custody.

You laugh a little, even though your face says you are two seconds away from throwing up.

“Not exactly merry-go-round, Sua. But I am afraid of heights.” You reply through your gritted teeth.

“Oh? Is that a thing?” Sua questions. Hoseok sits back and observes the conversation. He realizes you are about to make it about Sua very soon.

“Yes. Fear of heights is called Acrophobia. But it was a secret! Now you know one of my biggest secrets, Sua!” you fake annoyance, all through your nerve-wrecking fear. Hoseok is surely very amazed with you now.

“Oh no!” Sua giggles.

“Don’t laugh. In exchange for my secret, you gotta tell me one of your secrets too. Or better tell me what you are afraid of the most? It’s a rule. You can’t back off.” You seem to ease up quite a lot now.

“What am I afraid of? Do I have to tell you?” Sua questions with a very serious expression.

“Yes. don’t you think it will be unfair to me if you don’t?” You reason.

“That is right. But then daddy has to tell us his secret too. He heard you, just like me!” Sua pouts. Hoseok chuckles at his daughter's cute protests.

“Sure. I don’t have a problem.” he mutters. Eyes drifting to your face, which is focused on Sua. He sighs. You look even more beautiful under the golden hue of the setting sun. You look unreal, almost like a dream.

“Okay then let's start with Hoseok, shall we?” You speak with a trembling voice as the giant wheel starts to move again.

“Yes. yes. Daddy should go first.” Sua chimes in, way too delighted to finally know what scares her father the most.

“Spiders. I am afraid of spiders the most! God, those little creatures are the bane of my existence.'' As soon as Hoseok’s sentence ends, he hears roars of laughter from both of you and his daughter.

“I knew it! Daddy hates bugs so much!” Sua breaks into another fit of laughter, you join her soon after.

Hoseok feels like an achievement, having made you and Sua laugh so loud, it’s certainly an achievement to him.

“Okay okay! It’s your turn now.” you say while winding a hand around Sua’s little body, tugging her close to you.

For the first time in the afternoon, Hoseok finds his heart beating erratically because of you.

“I-” Sua’s face loses the glow in an instant, “I am- I am afraid of dark rooms. Dark rooms are so scary. I hate it! I-I hate it!” She covers her ears with her tiny palms.

Hoseok’s heart breaks at the sight, just like you had warned him earlier. He tries to reach out for Sua but sees you tugging her close to your chest, patting her back and calming her down before her anxiety excelates any further.

“Does Jaemin have anything to do with this, Sua?” you approach carefully, patting her back during the entire time.

Sua doesn’t say anything but she nods in your chest.

Hoseok’s heart breaks even more. He has been raising Sua providing every possible comfort he could offer. He thought he was successful in keeping his daughter away from all the harms of the world, but he was wrong. Somewhere, out of his knowledge, Sua was being terribly treated. The thought ensues a destructive anger in him, both for whoever Jaemin is and for himself. No matter how much he tried to be a great father, he failed to protect his babygirl and he is totally ashamed of himself.

When he looks up at you, he finds you smiling at him as if to assure something, as if to say, “hey, it’s alright”. He returns the smile with a heavy heart.

One thing about Sua is that it’s really easy to divert her mind and cheer her up.

Only an hour ago she was trembling in your chest, engulfed in fear of dark rooms and that bully. But right now she is smiling widely, totally thrilled to be riding the Camelot Carousel.

However, the person you are currently worried about is Hoseok. He is not at all doing well.

“You okay?” Letting your voice sound a little concerned, you ask Hoseok.

“I don’t know. I feel like I failed my duties as a parent. I couldn’t protect her.” Hoseok sighs. His shoulders rise and fall, making them brush with yours. It somewhat pains you to see him like this, especially when you could tell him for hours how good of a father he is despite all the complexities he had faced.

“Are you a magician or something?” you reply a little playfully.

“What?” Hoseok chuckles.

“No, right? Then how can you expect everything to be under your control? You are a human being after all, Hoseok. Being a parent doesn’t give you superpowers. There will always be shortcomings. But considering you have failed because of those, is certainly not justified. You are a good, in fact a great dad, Hoseok. And I need you to believe that yourself.” By the time you finish talking, you find Hoseok facing you.

Both of you are lost in each others’ eyes. All the chatters, clamoring, noise, the music from the carousel have faded in the background. Silence is buzzing in your ears and your eyes are focusing only on him.

Hoseok’s hair is not as styled as the other two times you have seen him. It’s more casual and curly today. Some curls fall on his forehead, almost reaching his eyes. His eyes are as dark and intimidating as ever. And if you are not wrong then you find those dropping on your lips momentarily before he is dragging his eyes back to yours again.

“You are a good psychologist but.. you are a better human being and I hope you know that, Y/N.” Hoseok speaks a little breathlessly.

“Maybe.. Or maybe not.” You add, finally turning your body towards the carousel again. You don’t look at him anymore. You don’t want him to read the vulnerability in your eyes that formed because he called you a good human being.

Your mind instantly goes back to Jungkook. You blame him for everything. He is the reason why you are so sensitive, so miserable that your eyes are blurring just because someone called you a good person.

It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. And pathetically Jungkook doesn’t care about the state he has pushed you in.

“I didn’t get to ask you earlier but are you okay?” Hoseok asks, walking side-by-side with you while carrying Sua piggyback as she is fast asleep.

You get a little nervous at his question. Did hoseok really see the miserable you through your strong girl facade?

“Yes. I'm totally fine. Why are you asking though?” you quiz back.

“You pretty much lost all the color of your face while riding on the giant wheel.” Hoseok chuckles a little.

“Oh. that!” you chuckle too, “I am fine now.”

“Do you always do this? I mean, going out of your comfort zone to help your patients?”

“That’s a part of our job. If we can’t face our fears, we won’t be able to help others.” You sigh a little.

Hoseok only nods and you two fall in a comfortable silence.

“It was a great day, and we made good progress. Hope she will open up more to me by the next session. So, see you next friday?” You say as you approach your car.

“Oh- next friday. Shit! I almost forgot.” Hoseok groans and you find it mindlessly attractive, “I have a very important hearing next Friday. We may have to skip the session.”

“Skipping a session might not be a wise choice as she finally started to talk. Is there a way to reschedule it?” You shift your weight from one foot to another.

“I am so sorry but I will be occupied with all the preparations for this whole week. I don’t think I can make it before saturday.” Hoseok pouts a little.

And good lord! He is so manly yet so cute! You feel like running away again!

“I can work this Saturday if you want.” you propose, knowing exactly what you are doing.

“Really? I will be so grateful if you do but I don’t want to ruin your weekend.”

“I don’t have anything special planned anyway. So..” You just hope you don’t sound desperate.

“Okay. Done! Saturday at the same time? I will text you the venue later on?” Hoseok smiles widely and you feel your heart melting.

You nod.

On your way back home, you feel a little guilty about the way you persuaded Hoseok earlier. You practically just used him as an excuse to refrain from going to Jimin’s party. You know Jungkook will be there and you don’t want to see him. You will briefly see Jimin and give him the gift before meeting Hoseok and Sua.

Work is always one of the most plausible excuses after all.

There are two thoughts plaguing Hoseok’s mind.

One, Sua being bullied at school and him being unaware of it all.

Two, You.

You are doing the unexplainable to him.

He had many people telling him that he is a great dad, he is doing an exceptional job in raising his daughter almost alone, but all of those words felt hollow and more like a courtesy than like an appreciation.

However, for the very first time when he felt those words to be genuine, those were coming out of your mouth.

“Being a parent doesn’t give you superpowers. There will always be shortcomings. But thinking you have failed because of those, is certainly not justified. You are a good, in fact a great dad, Hoseok. And I need you to believe that yourself.” your words replay in his head. He intakes a sharp breath and sips whiskey from his glass.

Staring at the almost deserted road outside his window, he feels sympathetic for them. Because he knows what it is like to be deserted, to be alone.

On nights like these, when he is a little unsettled, a little troubled, a little miserable… he seeks warmth of a shelter, a home, a lover.

Hoseok sighs, closing his eyes he tries to picture a lover and the face he sees throws him off the edge… because it’s you. It’s his daughter’s therapist, somebody he doesn’t even know that well, somebody that is clearly off limits.

He growls in frustration, slams the glass of liquor hardly on the table in the process.

He should not be feeling like this. He is beyond the age of having innocent crushes. It’s only need, want and lust at this point of his life. And there’s no way you can satiate those.

So, he does what he could arrange. He takes his phone and dials the number of the person he knows will keep his bed warm at night.

Saturday rolls around much faster than you would prefer. For once you consider canceling the plan but then you opt for going.

Jungkook and you had a messy breakup, that’s true, but your common set of friends or acquaintances have nothing to do with it. They are more of Jungkook’s friends than yours anyway. So, you have nothing to lose if they suddenly start blaming you even if it’s your ex-boyfriend who ended the relationship.

However, you know Jimin would be different. He knows you better than any other friend of Jungkook. And he is the reason why you two met.

Four years ago, when you were a fresh graduate, broke and desperate. You rented this cheap studio apartment. Jimin was your neighbor living just across the hall. And Jungkook was (and is) his best friend.

There was nothing romantic about yours and Jungkook’s meeting, rather it was a scene to be remembered.

It was summer, burning hot. Jimin, being weirdly himself, decided to dive into his very uncomfortable and shallow bathtub. Without a doubt, his decision resulted in him having a bump on the forehead.

Jimin somehow managed to call Jungkook, who came to his rescue. Who also came knocking on your door in search of ice. That’s the day you met him for the first time, then became friends and in turn, lovers.

The memory of Jungkook asking you out stings like a fresh wound these days.

“So I was thinking…” he’d said, eyes zoning out of focus. He had looked at everything else other than you.

“Hmm?” you had an idea what was this going to be about and you were elated to say the least. You and Jungkook had been flirting with each other for a good time already. A comment here, a touch there, all of it made you feel like you were new. You were in love for the very first time and you realized you have never loved any of your past partners as much as you loved this doe eyed, bunny featured boy.

You knew your feelings were reciprocated as you were able to read Jungkook and the way he would behave around you. You were waiting for him to be the first one to break the ice and if he proved to be way too shy to do anything, you would come up and take the charge.

But you didn’t have to do so. Jungkook broke the tension as soon as he heard you needed a partner to join you to your very first networking party.

“I could be your date to that party you were talking about- I mean- if you want you know?” his mouth latched to the beer can, taking a long sip to avoid your eyes again.

“Are you only suggesting or are asking me out?” You played with him.

Gulping the beer he opened his mouth to reply but he got tensed as soon as he saw you smiling and staring at him intently, “I am- umm- what I want to say is that-'' he gulped again “it would be nice if I could be your date. I would love to be your date.”

“And why is that?” you were enjoying teasing him.

He flushed at your sudden question. You could clearly see the way he was getting more and more nervous with each passing second.

“I-I don’t know how to say it. Uh- It may feel a bit creepy since we don’t know each other for that long and I am already asking to be your date. But I- I like you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same-”

You shut him up by capturing his lips with yours in a sudden kiss.

It took him a moment to process your actions but when he did, he kissed you back with ten times more intensity. He slid his tongue inside your mouth, his hands found their way inside your tank top, he placed you on the top of his lap, pressing his groin to your core deliciously. A pair of tongues danced for dominance, and soon you found yourself writhing under him as he made you cum again and again.

You come out of your flashback as you absentmindedly touch the heated part of the hair straighter.

Wow. What a great start to a Saturday, you think to yourself.

Gladly, we didn’t cry or have a meltdown this time. You smile to yourself, reaching for a band aid. This seems like healing. You are recovering faster than you thought you would, which makes you happy for sure.

Only if it was an average meeting, you wouldn’t put so much effort on your look. But you gotta meet Jimin first, who is probably already in a party mood, wearing his million dollar worth Dior outfits and Tiffany bracelets. And you don’t want to appear like a homeless kid before him. Moreover, Hoseok decided this week’s venue to be one of the fanciest bakeries of the town. Hence, it’s better if you doll up a bit.

You look at yourself through the rear view mirror, hoping that you are not overdressed for a therapy session and not undressed to meet your super popular friend.

Ok, you look presentable. What could possibly go wrong if you turn up to both of your meetings like this. Nothing.

The signal turns green and you are about to start your car except the fact that it doesn’t.

You spoke too soon. Obviously! Your car had to break down in the middle of the road like this! It is, certainly, one of the finest Saturday mornings you have ever had.

If there’s anything positive then you are just two blocks away from Jimin’s house, hence, you won’t have to walk for long in your heels.

It’s almost 2:45 when you complete calling insurance, handing over your car, and taking care of all the paperworks. There is no way in the world you could meet the Jungs by 3:30, so you decide to shoot Hoseok a quick text while walking towards Jimin’s house. You inform him that you are going to be late by 30 minutes or so as your car broke down earlier.

And you receive a call from him when you are in the elevator.

“Hey, is everything alright?” Hoseok’s smooth voice creates a weird session in your ear, which tickles down directly to your heart, warming it up much more than you would like to admit.

“Ah, yeah. Everything is fine. The car suddenly broke down while I was on the way to a friend’s home. And I am not well-aware of the public transport here. So, it may take some time for me to figure things out and reach the bakery.” keeping your eyes on the elevator door, you speak into your device.

“Uh- if you don’t mind… I can pick you up.” Hoseok suggests, voice a little small.

“It’s so kind of you, Hoseok but I don’t want to trouble you.” you reply. It’s safe to say that you would love to accept his kindness but then again, you don’t wanna appear to be a desperate, broken hearted, naive little girl.

“It won’t be a problem for me, Y/N. Just text me the address? Hm? I am sure Sua would love it too.” This time Hoseok’s voice is even more confident with a hint of authority in it. And you won’t like to turn him down. Agreeing with his proposition you cut the call, and type out the address just then the elevator dings open.

You haven’t been to Jimin’s place more than a couple of times but it is never hard to find his door, even though each of the condo looks just the same from outside.

Because Jimin’s door is always decorated as if it’s christmas. And today he even walked an extra mile and placed a full-size catboard cutout of himself with an edited crown on the top of his head and an animated birthday cake on one elevated hand.

You stifle a laugh while you press on the door bell.

And when the door opens, it’s not Jimin on the other side.

You are one of the main reasons why Jungkook decided to show up during the afternoon, have lunch with Jimin and then quietly leave before the party starts. His privacy is certainly a concern but not more than running into you.

But it seems like Life has different plans.

It’s you, who decided to show up right after 30 minutes of his arrival.

It’s you, who looks absolutely shattered by seeing him on the other side of the door.

It’s you, who is effortlessly sporting a black and red floral sundress with your slender neck and collarbones on display.

He stares at you with blown out pupils as you do the same. And suddenly Jungkook realizes that he misses you… or more like, misses seeing your beautiful face. If that makes sense.

“Y/N..” he murmurs under breath and he knows you can’t hear him.

You gulp and then open your mouth to say something but Jimin cuts you off.

“Y/N! You are here!” Jimin runs towards you, shoving Jungkook out of the doorway and pulls you inside. “But wait. You are here to tell me you can’t make it to the party, don’t you?”

Jungkook obverses you intently, zeroing his eyes on you and only you. You give Jimin one of your beautiful smiles and then hold out his gift.

“Sorry, Jiminie, I have a session today and I am already late for it. But a very very happy birthday to you.” tiptoeing, you reach Jimin's height and place a sweet kiss on his cheek. Jimin hugs you as you hug him back.

The scene irritates Jungkook and he doesn’t understand why. He has always been the jealous type, overprotective and possessive type. He never liked it when guys, even if your common friends, become too cozy with you. But that was in the past. That was when he was yours and you were his. That was when he was still in love with you. So, there is no apparent reason behind his irritation now.

He tries to move his eyes from you but then his eyes fall on your finger wrapped in a band-aid. Even before he knows what he is doing, he walks towards you, grabs your hand and examines the injury.

"Did you cut yourself again?" Jungkook investigates, as if he still has any right over you.

You snatch your hand back from his grip as if his touches burn.

"No. It's nothing." You reply, avoiding his entire presence.

Smiling brightly at Jimin, you murmur "I should go now. I'm running behind schedule."

"But it's Saturday. You don't work on weekends." Jungkook's mouth runs before his mind.

"I'm changing." You finally look at him, your eyes shoot daggers at him.

"But, Y/N-" Jimin starts to speak only to get cut off mid sentence as your phone starts ringing.

Jungkook doesn't want to but he can't control himself from peeking at your phone. But before he could make out the caller id, you receive it, “Hello… Oh you are here. Just a minute I am coming.”

“Jimin, I gotta go. I am sorry and happy birthday.” You rush your parting sentence, as if you don’t want to keep, whoever is here to pick you up, waiting.

“Y/N, you didn’t even rest your butt!” Jimin protests and you laugh.

“It’s a special client, Jimin. I don’t have a choice.” you smile apologetically to him.

The fact that you have smiled so many times already but not a single one was directed towards him. He knows he hasn't done anything to deserve your smiles but he craves for them regardless.

He wants to ask you how are you doing, if you are eating properly or not, if you are sleeping in time or do you still stay up reading books. He wants to ask for forgiveness, to say that he is sorry, to suggest that you move on and stop hurting because of him, but even before he could say a word… you are gone.

Jimin jogs towards the balcony and he joins just to see who this special client of yours is.

Never once during your relationship has he seen you working during the weekends, you also never accepted any gifts or lifts from your clients, and there was no reason for doing so since most of your clients are teenagers.

But earlier you said you were changing, is that why it’s a tall and good looking man who is here to receive you?

You come in the picture a minute or two later and walk towards your special client. Placing a hand on the small of your back, he guides you to the passenger seat.

Jungkook can’t make out your facial features from the 5th floor, but he knows you are most definitely smiling. And the knowledge doesn’t sit right with him; rather it sets his senses on fire and that familiar overprotectiveness, possessiveness plague his mind.

“Oooohhh-” Jimin sings song, “a young, handsome client, who might as well be something more.”

“No. She is still in love with me.” Jungkook grits his jaw at the sight of the car leaving, taking away you.

Taglist:-

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @xjoonchildx @justmewondering-recs @cuteipat @miakey98 @purpleanchorcrown @chimmisbae @ane102 @junniesoleilkth @terjeonbebas @kookssecret @appleh4ad @kayleeshinee @whoa-jo @definetlythinkimanalien @lovelgirl22 @agrika

#bts angst #bts smut #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #hoseok angst #hoseok smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #hoseok x reader #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #hoseok scenarios #jhope angst #jhope smut

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comatosebunny09 · 5 months

Text

with a pretty bow on top | astarion a.

summary: you’ve never been particularly good at wrapping things. but you want to ensure your friends have the best gifts of all, including a certain snarky elf who’s difficult to please. genre(s): romance, fluff, modern au, friends to (possible) lovers warning(s): alcohol, profanity, mentions of blood, mutual pining notes: merry chrysler! i hope everyone has a lovely christmas! thank you so much for reading! screenshot credit

For the umpteenth time, the paper rips.

And for the umpteenth time, you feel this is a lost cause. Deflate like a balloon, a sigh rushing past your lips.

You’ve never been particularly good at wrapping things. Usually had your mother or roommate to carry that burden.

You routinely opt for gift bags. Easier to drop a present inside, dress it up with pretty tissue paper and a witty card, and go about your business.

But you made a terrible mistake, forgoing the convenience store in your haste to get to your Airbnb.

It’s a tucked-away cabin in the woods. Secluded and ominous, shrouded by the night. The pristine blanket of snow building outside makes up for its creepiness. It’s nice to be away from the city, too, surrounded by people you adore. People who’ve filled the space between your ribs for years.

On cue, their merriment reaches your ears, streaming from the kitchen.

They’re hammered. You should be, too. But you want to ensure your friends have the best gifts of all. Wrapped neatly and tucked beneath the Christmas tree, waiting to be ripped open come morning.

You huff, balling up another sheet of paper and chucking it.

Errant pieces of tape litter your clothing. Strips of foil wrapping paper gleam in the light emitted from the fireplace. The ribbons you haphazardly cut shift in the ceiling fan’s breeze. Your battlefield.

The medium-sized box sitting between your spread legs leers at you condescendingly. You fold your arms, nudging it with your foot.

“I’m not your bitch,” you mutter, turning your nose up with a scowl.

“Well, that’s no way to greet an old friend.”

You start, your attention pilfered by the man wandering towards you.

He paints an ethereal picture in the firelight, curls flouncing about and glowing like a halo around his head. A bottle of wine and two Bordeaux glasses greet you from between his fingers. He wears that effervescent smirk beneath round frames. Brow pitches up with amusement, gait flamboyant whilst the kitchen blurs behind him.

You swallow, your lips trembling around a greeting when he plops down beside you. Cross-legged, scooting closer like a friend bearing gossip. Fills your lungs with the smell of brandy and cracked vanilla beans. He’s naturally corpse-cold, but the slightest bit of warmth radiates off his skin, permeating through the layers of your clothes.

Must’ve fed on something viscous wandering the woods before he found you.

He brings you back when he pushes a glass into your hand.

“I was wondering where you’d wandered off to,” Astarion purrs, his tone colored with alcohol. With your breath held in your esophagus, you watch as he pops the stopper off the bottle with a pointed tooth. Spits it out. “Mind if I impede on your party of one?”

Your lips twitch. Like you’d ever say no to him. “Course not.”

And no, you do not nearly jump some 50 feet out of your skin when limber fingers curl around yours, bringing the glass up for him to fill it. He catches your stare over the rim, scarlet spun eyes alight with mischief. You look away as heat branches up your neck.

The dark liquid sloshes about as he fills his own glass. Fizzles, the sweet fragrance curling around your nose. “Finally, some good shit,” you breathe, taking a sip. Release a content sound as it bubbles on the back of your tongue. The burn of it washes over your nerves, loosening them.

Astarion scoffs, leaning back on the hand he positioned behind you. Adam’s apple bobs in your peripheral as he takes a swig. He redirects his attention to you, something of a pout occupying his lips. “Darling, you wound me. As if I would bring anything worse than that cheap excuse for booze you lot rave about. Four Loko, was it?”

You snicker, nursing your glass. Turn the stem between your fingers, examining the hardwood floor beneath.

Sure, he’s always had this thing with you. This way of squeezing himself beneath your skin where no one else could, turning you into some flustered mess. But you can’t deny you’ve missed his company. His eccentricities. His smell.

The years have dragged you all apart. Pushed you in different directions, your careers casting you out to sea. But like driftwood, you all floated back to shore. United under the same roof to celebrate Christmas and usher in the new year.

It’s a pleasant sensation, idling with the wine warming your veins.

The hum of his voice eases through your musings. “Mm, what’s this about?” Astarion queries around another mouthful of wine, signaling to the massacre at your feet.

You shrink. An uneasy smile rounds your cheeks. “Yeah, about that. Kinda got carried away.”

“Carried away? By the hells, it looks like you got into a fight with a pair of scissors and…lost. Abysmally.”

You snort. “Alright, alright. Take it easy. We can’t all be gifted with our hands like some people, Mister Art Teacher.”

Your stomach plummets. Blood turns to ice. The double entendre hits you like a sack of coal. You bring your glass to your lips to mask your unease. To mask the shakiness of your limbs.

Astarion exudes smugness, admiring his nails with a flourish of his fingers. “Well, these hands aren’t just made for sculpting works of art, my dear.”

You sputter, speckles of wine flying everywhere.

Astarion chuckles, the sound of it smooth as velvet. Leans closer, his elbow brushing your thigh as he reaches for something in front of you. You stiffen, biting the rim of your glass. It’s almost like you two haven’t been friends for years. Haven’t seen each other bleed, cry, piss, for God’s sake.

“Come,” beckons Astarion, taking up a roll of wrapping paper and plucking the box from between your legs.

You huff a disbelieving laugh. “What are you doing?”

He scoffs. Side-eyes you as if it’s as apparent as night and day. “Well, clearly, no one’s taught you the art of wrapping a bloody gift. I mean, look at this. A child could do better.”

Your shoulders touch your ears. Astarion’s disapproval is akin to upsetting your parents. Even after all this time apart, he still knows how to lay the insults on thick.

It’s kind of comical how he grumbles like an embittered old woman, unraveling some of the paper. Still methodical in everything he does, positioning the box in the center. Concentration pulls his brows together. “Fetch me that tape.”

You give him an incredulous look. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you relent before doing as he demanded instructed. His fingers ghost over your hand in pursuit of the tape, and you bristle.

Astarion goes into full scholar mode hereon, paper rippling around him as he cuts away. Moves like a butler masterfully laying out a tablecloth. No trace of inebriation lies in the shift of his fingers. It’s as if he hadn’t polished off a bottle of brandy before finding you.

“Typically, wrapping paper comes with a template. A set of squares or lines you can use to gauge where you need to cut.”

He gestures for the scissors. You scramble for them like a student eager to please their instructor.

“Depending on how precise you want the wrapping to be, you must trim off as much excess as possible whilst ensuring you have enough left to cover your parcel.”

“Interesting.”

You angle yourself closer, sitting up on your haunches. The bulb of your glass grows warm, stained with your fingerprints. You nod, genuinely intrigued. Chin finds the pocket of his shoulder—an affectionate gesture amongst longtime friends.

Astarion tenses. You wince, flinching away.

“Sorry.”

“No, no. It’s quite alright, darling.” He clears some phlegm from his throat. Squeezes your kneecap, presenting you with a fraction of a smile. Dragonflies tickle the lining of your stomach. He resumes his lesson as if his muscles aren’t pulled taut.

Your lips twitch. Seems Astarion’s not the only one capable of disarming those around him.

You cant your head along the slope of his shoulder, watching him work with the curiosity of a child.

“It helps to tape here.” Carefully, he layers a strip of tape near the edge of the box where paper meets cardboard. “So as to keep your paper from shifting.”

As Astarion leads on, you find yourself terribly distracted. Your vision ebbs and flows. Body buzzes. From his proximity or the wine, you’re unsure. It’s a pleasant sensation, nonetheless.

The cacophony of the cabin and your friends fade into a dull hum. Only the rumble of Astarion’s voice fills the wrinkles of your brain. He’s surprisingly nurturing despite how he outwardly projects himself to the world. Soothing as he speaks to you, gaze occasionally flitting your way to ensure you’re still with him.

Try as you might to focus, you find your lids drooping, your vision blurred around the edges. An inebriated smile teases your lips. You could fall below the inky depths of sleep like this, led into it by his voice. Still would feel perfectly safe on your descent, knowing he’d be there to haul you back to the surface.

You sit up to take him in. To observe the furrow of his brows, the coil of his lashes. The gilded lenses perched on his nose like a librarian. His mouth pulls into a tight line while he focuses. Plump and petal pink. Skin’s still smooth and dewy, glowing in the firelight like he’s descended from heaven. His hands move seemingly of their own volition. Caught in a dance he knows all too well, still pretty and delicate-looking, untouched by time.

You imagine what they’d feel like, clasped in yours. Thumb cruising over the grooves of your knuckles, pushing reassuring beneath your skin. How he’d look with a careless smile, whispering the sweetest supplications into the crown of your head.

Reality comes pitching forward, the moment ending too soon.

You blink out of your reverie as Astarion slides the box toward you. It softly thumps against your leg. Expertly wrapped with a bow in its center and ribbons waterfalling down its sides. You stare in awe. You could never master something so intricate.

“And that, my dear, is how you wrap a present.” Astarion pats your thigh with finality before leaning back with a sigh. Looks smug as ever whilst taking a sip of his forgotten wine.

You smirk. Offer Astarion a half-hearted applause, and he eats it all up.

“I envy whatever bastard receives this, honestly,” he croons around the mouth of his cup. “I outdid myself.”

You chuckle. Your inhibition is thrown to the wolves. You eye the present, your body vibrating with anticipation. Maybe it’s the liquid encouragement urging you forward, loosening your tongue. Whatever the cause, you push on.

“I mean, I’d hope he likes it. He took his time wrapping it, after all.”

Astarion casts you a sidelong glance. Snorts into his glass. Realization gradually descends on his features. It’s funny watching his face morph into something akin to a confused puppy.

You shrug, caught like a child rifling through a cookie jar. It takes a moment, but his brows finally lift with an unasked question.

Seriously, they ask. For me?

You reach for the box, pointedly avoiding his stare. The heat of bashfulness inhabits your cheeks as you carefully slip the box into his lap. Your hand lingers. Fingers tenderly grip the meat of his quad, stars dancing across the stratosphere of your eyes when you muster the courage to look at him.

“Merry Christmas, Starry.”

He sputters. Sits up. Glances between you, the box, and the clock perched above the mantle. It’s midnight. Tradition dictates you open one present at the cusp of Christmas day.

Astarion laughs, something airy and pleasant. His hand closes over yours, and he squeezes. He’s beautiful like this. Youthful as he glances up at you, his mouth working around a reply.

“You cheeky little shit. Making me wrap my own gift. The gall.”

He acts offended, but you know that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Would you rather I have wrapped it?”

You both warily eye your shit attempts at wrapping his gift.

“Fair enough,” he jests with a resigned drop of his shoulders.

You share a laugh, the air between you charged with affection. Through it all, you note Astarion’s hand has yet to leave yours. Thumb kneads reassuring circles into the clutch of your hand. Your heart thrums a war cadence in your ears, blotting out the sound of his wine glass clinking against the floor as he sets it down.

He releases a breath. Observes you a moment longer with a warm smile on his lips. Shifts his gift onto the floor beside him. “Come here,” Astarion murmurs, saturating your vision with nothing but him as he leans closer.

You heed his request, and your lids lower, a pleasant shiver sifting through your bones at his glacial fingers at the nape of your neck. You have but seconds to appreciate the flutter of his lashes before he closes in.

He fuses his lips to yours with such precision. Tender, supple. Just like you always dreamed they would be. He’s frigid, but he scorches you from within. Gently takes possession of your cheek, coaxing your lips to part with the slide of his tongue after your body relaxes.

You grant him the entry he requests with an abrasive sound easing from your throat. Warmth pools in the chasm of your belly whilst your tongues intermingle and the maple taste of brandy pushes into your mouth.

His voice vibrates in your mouth as he chuckles something satisfied. He breaks the kiss with a soft click, and you chase his mouth in pursuit of another.

“Don’t be greedy, darling,” he husks with a teasing tap to your nose.

Your eyes cautiously slide open. Lips still pursed, head still swimming. “What was that all about,” you breathe into the space between your mouths.

Astarion chuckles, all fangs and mirth. You follow his gaze skyward, a blur of forest green and red nestled between the space of your lashes. Slowly, the distortion works itself into discernable shapes. You laugh at the telltale plant dangling above your head. Held by him.

“Mistletoe,” he croons as if it’s the most obvious thing.

You giggle, your nose brushing along the peak of his whilst you draw him in to press your foreheads together.

The time eases by with you sitting together by the fireplace, your cheek resting on Astarion’s shoulder as you regale stories of a childhood once passed. Hardly notice when you’re beckoned to sleep by the pretty girls of slumber.

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #softstarion #bg3 fluff #astarion fluff #mutual pining #friends to lovers #christmas fluff #christmas fic #holiday fic #astarion x gn reader #tw: alcohol #tw: profanity

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