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httpdwaekki · 27 days

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phobia | b.c.

summary: you have arachnophobia but luckily you had an aussie to help you with it.

wc: 1.1k

warnings: mentions of spiders! i tried not to get too specific but they are still mentioned heavily.

a/n: my first request ah! @anjian03 ty so much for the request, i hope i did this justice :) i honestly might write a felix version in the in the future so definitely let me know if that's something you'd want :) anyway! i hope you guys enjoy and as always, drink water, eat something, and take ur meds. <3

my library

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

you never liked bugs, never have, never will. spiders in particular, terrify you. no matter how small, what color, you will always hate them. naturally, you fell in love with an australian, which was both a blessing and a curse.

now chan is well aware of your dislike of bugs, even more so of your phobia of spiders. so when he invited you to go back home with him, you were hesitant. of course you wanted to meet his family and berry but all you could think about is the 8 legged arachnids that reside in his home country.

chan could see the immediate panic that took over your features. you were well aware of how irrational your fear was, and you definitely didn’t want it to get in the way of you meeting your boyfriend’s family but you couldn’t help it.

“you’re worried about the spiders right?” you nod, picking at the now chipped nail polish that covered each finger. you were sat across from him on your couch, head hung in embarrassment. he gently grabbed your hand, rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

“hey,” he shakes your hand gently, making you to look at him, “i get it, okay? you don’t have to go if it’ll stress you out too much. you don’t have too, okay?” you quickly shake your head.

“no no, i wanna come.” you reassure him. “are you sure?” he asks, searching your eyes for uncertainty. “yes, i wanna meet berry and your family and see where you grew up.” you nod smiling, squeezing his hand.

“okay, i’ll be there the whole time okay?” he reassures you. you lean forward, placing a loving kiss to his plush lips, before wrapping your arms around his neck. “i know channie,” placing a soft kiss on his neck. “thank you.”

a few months later, chan finally has a break and you find yourself in the warm city of sydney, australia. you had been there for a few days, and it wasn’t as bad as you had imagined. you hadn’t even thought about the arachnids since meeting his family.

simply focusing on chan enjoying the limited time he had home with his family. it was nice to see him so relaxed, and carefree, not worrying about deadlines or comebacks, just enjoying life.

and that’s exactly what he looked like now, playing with berry as you helped his mom clean up from the delicious dinner she had cooked. she was finishing washing the last of the dishes as you dried them. you both went back and forth, telling your own stories about chan, laughing and smiling at the precious boy in the next room.

after the dishes, she starts tying the bag in the trash can. you stop her, “oh, mrs.bang, i can grab that.” she quickly shakes her head. “no sweetheart, you’re a guest, i’ve got it.” you shake your head right back.

“please? you cooked all day and i think my mother would yell at me if she found out i didn’t do more to help.” you insisted, reaching for the bag. she relents, handing you the bag, “okay, you win, the trash is just around the house, but make sure you put on the light. you never know what nasty buggers are running around out there.” she laughs.

your blood suddenly runs cold, a stark reminder of the things that made you scared to come here in the first place. you knew she was joking, just a light hearted comment but you couldn’t help but freeze.

she looks at you concerned, “are you okay?” you smile, nodding. “yes sorry, i’ll be right back.” you make a quick exit, finding the side door, making sure to flip the light switch first.

once outside of the door you take a moment to breathe. you look out to the australian sunset, trying to relax for a moment. it was still light out, but still dark enough to need the light. after a moment or two you finally move towards the trash cans.

unbeknownst to you, chan had made his way out to follow you. his mom asking him to check on you as you were taking a while, before making her way to her room. this set off silent alarms in chan’s head, as he was well aware of the presence of the specific 8-legged creatures that you loathed surrounding the trash bins.

as he made it to the door, he hears the unmistakable sound of your scream. he quickly yanks the door, yelling your name. you run into him, letting out another yelp. “hey hey, jagiya, it’s just me, it’s chan, you’re okay.” you shove your face into his neck, hands shaking as you wrap your arms around him.

he wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back, glancing behind you where he finds the trash bag on the floor, and the dreaded 8-legged creature on the handle to the trash bin. he places a kiss to the side of your head, “are you okay to wait for me by the door?’ he whispered into your ear. you nod your head, slowly releasing him, making your way back to the door.

he quickly moves to grab the bag, brushing the spider off with the bag before lifting the lid, placing the bag inside. he makes his way back to you, opening the door, ushering you inside. “come on, let’s wash our hands quick, then we can lay down.” you nodded, making your way to the sink.

the shaking slowly subsides as you slowly wash your hands. chan notices the slight shake stil present in your hands. he softly wraps his soap covered hands over yours, stopping your movements. “you okay baby?” he leans over, whispering into your ear. you nod your head, you’re face heating up in embarrassment. “i’m sorry.”

he shakes his head, quickly rinsing your hands before drying them. he places his hands to your warm cheeks, your eyes shiny as they look into his. “you have nothing to apologize for, okay?” you slightly nod your head.

“you got scared, it happens it’s okay.” his thumbs gently rubbing your soft cheeks. “i’m so proud of you, my brave baby.” your cheeks become even warmer. you let out a giggle, dropping your head, shaking it a bit.

“i’m serious bubs, i know you were scared to go out there but you still went.” you smile, placing a kiss on the side of his mouth. “ come on, let’s go lay down.” he grabs your hand, leading you to his childhood room, where you spent the rest of the night, cuddled together, looking at chan’s babies pictures.

you may never get over your phobia but at least you have chan with you to help you.

do not repost

#bang chan #bang chan imagine #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan fic #bang chan oneshot #stray kids #stray kids imagine #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids fic #tw : spiders #spiders #ash's archive ⟡˖°

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puck-bunnies · 3 months

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behind closed doors

umich!luke hughes x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, fingering, praising, choking, not proof read

word count: 2.3k

me and luke were never much of friends, never even talked much. at least, that’s what everyone thought. no one ever knows what happens behind closed doors.

i have not used this app in forever, meaning i haven’t written a fic in quite a long time so this is me trying to get back into writing. sorry if this is not great and a little rushed, i just haven’t written anything in like five months. anyways, try to enjoy this fic and ill try to write more as soon as i can.

i sit in the living room of my best friends boyfriends house, she sits beside me as all of ethan’s roommates take up every other seat. the lightning vs islanders game plays on the tv, having all of our eyes glued to it.

the boys are in a constant state of yelling, wether is celebrating, yelling at how stupid the refs are, or booing the other team. i’m not as invested as usual, my teams aren’t playing, but ill never miss an opportunity to a hockey game.

my mind also focuses on the close proximity as luke sits beside me, our thighs lightly rubbing against each other ever so softly. the warm summer weather left me wearing shorts and a tank top, causing luke’s hand to glide across my bare skin as he secretly places his hand on my thigh.

i never intended on sneaking around with luke, it all just happened one day, the house was empty and quiet. we got to talking, venturing from subjects like our classes, plans for our future, and somehow turning into our sex life.

he learned that i’ve never really gotten quite what i need, never feeling that spark with any guy that i’ve been with. them never wanting to try anything i’ve wanted to, i’ve never been fully satisfied.

he continued to tell me how he has slept around quite a bit. nearly almost always leaving the rink with some new blonde puck bunny stuck to his arm. he didn’t wear it as a trophy, or say that he regretted any of it, all just saying it’s apart of his past. his history he can’t and won’t change.

one thing led to another, his hands roaming my body as my lips bit down on his. my hands squeezing the mattress tightly with every moan escaping my lips.

we didn’t even stop there, whenever we could find a time to be alone, we were tangled in each others arms.

here we are now, not even able to keep our hands to ourselves in sight of one another. i try to shake his hand off, not wanting any of the surrounding eyes to see his intimate gesture. he doesn’t move, squeezing my skin harder. i softly pierce my bottom lip with my teeth, try to calm my nerves. i can feel heat bubbling up to my face, painting my cheeks with a faint blush.

my eyes peer over to him, giving him a pleading look to start behaving. he doesn’t budge, giving me a side smirk before returning his eyes on the game.

rutger groans loudly as the 2nd period finishes, “fuck the lightning.” he swears as they’re pulling a 4-1 lead. he chugs back the rest of his beer, throwing the can on the ground in some grown man temper tantrum.

the ads run during the commercial break, leaving the rest of us to disregard the television for the time being. my heart starts to quicken, without their distraction of the game they’re eyes could fall upon luke’s hand on me.

my mind tries to work fast, but the only thing i can think of doing is grabbing the blanket next to me and covering myself with it, concealing us from the wandering eyes. luke’s lips curl into a smirk, proud of me not forcing him off, knowing that i want it. that i want him.

his hand becomes bolder, rubbing up and down my inner thigh. i bite my bottom lip again, trying to stabilize myself from this new feeling. his fingers become more adventurous, going to the hem of my shorts.

“fuck.” i softly mumble to myself, luke’s soft chuckle tells me that he hears my light groans. his fingers don’t stop there, rubbing up to the bottom of my shirt, toying with the cotton material.

the pads of his fingers brush against my sensitive skin, right across the bottom of my stomach. fire engulfs my stomach, my breath hitches as he rubs softly back and forth, tickling my skin.

the game comes back for the final period, my eyes keep trained on the hockey game, but my mind can only focus on his touch as it drives me insane.

he feels my stomach hitch with my breath, he knows i want him so badly, he knows what he does to me. i squeeze my thighs together, trying to cause some type of sensation in my growing wetness.

i can’t take his teasing fingers anymore, “meet me in my room.” i whisper to him. rising from the couch and walking away from the crowded living room. i head for the direction of the bathroom, making them hear my footsteps as i lead their ears to the door closing. i stay outside the bathroom, tiptoeing to my room in an unsteady waiting of luke.

the door finally opens, luke quickly closing the door silently behind him. a deep breath is all i can hear from him, turning around to look at me patiently sitting on the foot of my bed. he takes a seat beside me, quickly gripping my hips and pulling me onto his lap.

“it’s been awhile since we’ve been alone,” my fingers rake up the back of his head, through his soft brown hair, my finger swirling around a curly lock. “too long.” a soft sigh parts from his lips as my fingers lightly scratch at his scalp.

he keeps his hands on my hips, roughly gripping at my denim shorts. “i missed your hands all over me. you can’t tease me out there and not expect me to want more.”

our bodies come closer, our lips so close together, our hearts syncing their beats. i can barely hold myself back from making up that final inch. “tell me how badly you want me.”

“i want you..” he shyly gives into my need. it’s not enough for me, i feed off of hearing how badly he wants me, his hands rubbing up and down my body, the feeling of his cock being buried deep inside me.

“oh yeah…” my lips attach to his neck, softly kissing down from his jaw.

finally he gives in, “i want to feel you against me, your lips on mine, every inch of your beautiful body baby.”

a devilish smirk spreads on my face, “mmm, is that right?” i mumble against his neck, softly sinking my teeth into his sensitive skin, sucking the spot to soothe it after.

“oh god yes.” luke practically moans out. his hands become adventurous, slowly going down to hold my ass in his hands, gripping at my clothed skin. they make their way down farther, gripping at my exposed thighs while my kisses go back up his jaw.

i crave for his taste, forcefully pressing my lips against his in a hungry state. my tongue quickly sliding into his mouth, hands combing through his messy curls, pushing him closer into me. he guides my hips back and forth on him, i can feel him hardening underneath me.

breaking the kiss to catch my breath, i drop my head onto his shoulders as i feel his hands press against my pussy. my hips still grind on him, but instead of just on his hard cock, it’s on his fingers. “mmm, you want me that bad?” he chuckles, i nod against his shoulder.

he undoes my shorts, exposing the top of my pink lacy panties, his fingers drag down them, going farther into my pants. they settle on my wetness, my hips stop rocking, focusing on the closer touch. “god you’re soaked.”

my lip sticks to my teeth in a harsh lip bite, my walls clench around nothing, begging to be filled by him. his fingers work slow and teasingly, rubbing circles around my clothed clit, watching me squirm on top of him. my back slightly arches, legs slowly opening wider for him to have better access to my aching pussy. “needy, are we?”

i softly whimper, my hips start to grind again, craving more attention from his teasingly slow hands. his fingers move the crotch of my panties aside, touching my wetness with his bare fingers, feeling my folds and them dripping for him. my head lifts off his shoulder, taking a glance down at his hand stuffed down my pants, looking back deep into his eyes.

i take a deep breath out, without a single warning he thrusts a finger in my pussy. making me loudly squeal with surprise. he quickly covers my mouth, stopping his finger in me. “you have to be quiet princess, you don’t want us getting caught, now do you?” he asks. i shake my head no, he hums at my obedience. “good girl.” his voice is in a whisper, softly praising me.

he begins to move his finger once again, letting me adjust to the new sensation before adding another, stretching me out for him. curling his fingers up to my g-spot. finally trusting me enough not to scream, he moves his hand off of my face, settling it down on my hip to keep me steady.

my hands grasp at his curly locks, trying to compose myself. as he adds another finger i bite down on my bottom lip, trying to keep the wanting moans from escaping my lips. a smirk spreads across luke’s face, watching what he can do to me with just his hands. i curse under my breath, dropping my head down to keep my brain straight, the pleasure slowly becoming less bearable.

his fingers quicken, hand comes off my hip and to my chin, lifting my head to force me to stare back into his eyes. “look at me while i’m finger fucking you baby.” my teeth puncture my bottom lip harder, my chest heaving with all the moans i keep to myself. i slip up and let on me out, hard hands hit my throat, softly squeezing. “i thought i told you to keep quiet?”

his grip loosens to allow me to take a breath, closing back up as soon as my chest rises. another finger slips in my cunt, my legs start to squirm, toes curling and hands squeezing his hair. his fingers losen from my throat, falling down to the straps of my tank top. he pulls one strap off each shoulder, one at a time. hooking two fingers at the neckline and pulling down, my tits falling out from my lack of wearing a bra.

he wastes no time before gripping my breast, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive bud. i clench around his fingers, my senses overloading with pleasure. he lowers his head, kitty licking my other nipple. i softly moan, not loud enough for luke to get me in trouble again, but enough for him to know the things he’s doing to me.

my stomach clenches, the feeling i know very well as my head starts to feel light. “i’m so close.” i whimper out. luke doesn’t let up, switching to my other breast, sucking on the nipple before softly biting the skin.

my whole body clenches as i feel my climax, luke’s quick fingers curling inside me quickly. it all comes raining down, my pussy clenching around him as i coat his fingers with myself. he backs up, letting me heave and fall down on his chest to catch my breath.

i quietly curse under my breath, squeezing my eyes shut to recover from my high. i life my head back up to look luke in the eyes. he removes his fingers from my folds, fingers coated with my cum. he slides his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. my breath catches in my throat again, god damn he makes me want more.

“you’re such a good girl Y/N.” he pops his fingers out of his mouth, “i wish i could fuck you silly right now. but i want to keep all those precious moans to myself, when we can be completely alone.”

before i can even react to his words he puts his lips back onto mine, slipping his tongue in my mouth to let me taste myself. his fingers plant back onto my hips, helping me up to my feet so he can get out from underneath me.

“you go get yourself cleaned up and meet me back in the living room. i pray we weren’t gone too long for anyone to notice.” he whispers, fixing my hair from the sweat that beads on my forehead.

i nod to his words, giving him one last little kiss before he silently slips out of my bedroom. my try to regain my normal breathing patterns, my brain still fuzzy from my previous orgasm.

i obey luke’s wishes, tiptoeing to the bathroom to clean myself off. splashing water into my face to try to remove my blushing red cheeks. i walk back out to the bathroom, seeing everyone engrossed in the final minutes of the third period. i thankfully sigh, slipping back between the guys to sit back down beside luke. he offers me a light smirk, we both then back to the television, watching the game unfold.

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x you #luke hughes imagine #nhl imagine #luke hughes fic #nhl fanfiction #luke hughes one shot #puck-bunnies

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witchslove · 2 years

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okay so i’ve got a request for stepmom!wanda x reader 🤭

maybe wanda seducing/the other way around or just like kinda dark!stepmom!wanda making reader lay on her chest and eventually suck her nipples when they’re upset or maybe stressed over school (because you know… lactation kink)

and yeah, lots of mommy kink 😵‍💫🤭

Stress Relief

Pairing: Stepmom!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Whenever you're overwhelmed, your loving stepmom is there to make it better.

Warnings: 18+ nsfw content; dark!stepmom!wanda, slight dubcon, mommy kink, lactation kink, praise kink, legal age gap, cheating, manipulation

A/N: Thank you for the request, this one kinda got away from me so I hope you enjoy! This is my first time writing stepmom Wanda and I love her so much already <3

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You always felt so relaxed in Wanda’s presence.

With her hand in your hair, long delicate fingers stroking your scalp, and your head resting on her soft chest, you felt safe.

Deadlines were kicking your ass and you were more stressed than you’d ever been, your second year at university proving to be much more vigorous than your first. Wanda practically had to drag you out of your room to watch a movie with her, not taking no as an answer despite you trying to explain how behind you were on your assignments.

She’d had enough of seeing you work yourself nearly to death, staying up half the night and accidentally skipping meals, too focused on your academics. She wasn’t mad at you for it, in fact, she admired your work ethic. You were ambitious and a perfectionist, so eager to please.

Always such a good girl.

And good girls deserved rewards. So she’d demanded that you take a break and join her in her room for a movie.

Technically she wasn’t lying; there was a movie playing in the background as she played absentmindedly with your hair. But that wasn’t the real reason she’d invited you into her bed.

About twenty minutes into the movie, she decided to put her plan into motion.

Her sweet touches and warm body molded into yours as you cuddled were enough to have you instantly relaxing into her. Right where she wanted you.

Ever since she’d met you, she thought you were a precious little thing - so sweet, so smart, so willing to help her whenever she needed it. She planned to see just how far she could push that last one.

The first time she laid eyes on you, she thought you were adorable. She felt an instant attraction to you and, luckily for her, your father made his presence around the house scarce for work reasons, leaving the two of you alone quite often.

For months she played the motherly role in your life. She made dinner, asked you about school, offered to help you with your homework, and spent time with you as much as you wanted.

Really as much as she wanted, but whatever she wanted she knew she could make you want even more. She was so good at it that most of the time whatever she wanted seemed like it was your idea in the first place and Wanda loved the fact her sweet girl was so oblivious to her intentions.

She touched you as much as possible, whether it was her hands on your waist as she moved past you, her fingertips tracing patterns into your exposed thigh during dinner, or having you curl up into her side when you watched movies. She didn’t miss the way you would always melt into her touch, knowing she had you wrapped around her finger as much as you did her.

As the movie played in the background, she tightened her grip in your hair, prompting you to lift your head the slightest bit. Before you could turn to ask if she needed to readjust, she’d already pulled down the top of her skimpy nightgown, exposing her full breasts and already hardened nipples.

When you looked at her, your eyes fell to her bare chest for a moment before you squeezed them shut and tried to cover them. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to look,” you apologized frantically. “I- I didn’t know.”

“Shh, it’s okay, moya lyubov,” Wanda cooed, removing your hand from where it covered your eyes and placing her hands on your cheeks. “You want to look, don’t you?”

Her words shocked you, making you open your eyes and meet her tender gaze. “I- I’m confused,” you mumbled, trying to read her expression for even a hint at what was happening. All you saw was adoration and a twinkle in her eyes, so alluring that you had to look away.

When you did, you were staring directly at her breasts. You knew it was wrong, but you felt your mouth begin to water at the sight of them and heat building somewhere much lower. Subconsciously, you licked your lips and Wanda smirked when she noticed. This was too easy.

“I actually think you want to do more than just look, right, detka?” she asked, setting the trap, knowing you would take the bait.

“What do you mean?” you swallowed, unsure of where to look as your eyes flitted between her face and her chest.

“I think you know what I mean, sweetheart. Go ahead, you can touch,” she said sweetly, framing her words just right to make it seem like you’d just asked her yourself if you could touch her.

When you nervously brought a hand up to cup the weight of her breast, she smiled reassuringly. You didn’t notice the smugness behind her smile as you refocused your attention below her neck.

She bit her lip to stifle a moan when your thumb brushed against her straining nipple. She arched her back the slightest bit, pushing her chest closer to your face, your breath hitching in your throat at the action.

“Can I- can I use my mouth?” you asked, your voice almost a whisper.

Wanda had never been more pleased with herself than in that moment. She hadn’t quite expected you to be so bold and ask for such a thing so quickly. She was both proud of herself and proud of you, always so compliant, always so good for her.

“Yes, angel, you can use your mouth.”

When your lips wrapped around her nipple, she bit back a whine at the sensation of your warm mouth around her sensitive bud. You latched on, suckling contentedly and laving your tongue around the stiff peak.

You were surprised when you felt warm, sweet liquid drip into your mouth. You had no idea Wanda could do this, but you couldn’t complain. The first taste of her milk had you hooked immediately, moaning as more spilled onto your waiting tongue.

“You’re doing so good drinking mommy’s milk baby,” Wanda said breathily.

Her words sent a shock straight to your core and you moaned against her flushed skin.

“Oh, someone likes that, hm?”

You were too far gone to respond, your eyelids growing heavy as her breast emptied. You switched to the other one, sucking softer and slower this time, wanting to make it last.

Her fingers threaded through your hair, moving in a steady rhythm matching that of your tongue along the underside of her nipple.

You fell asleep that way, with your mouth on her breast, her hand in your hair, and a smile on your face. It was the best sleep you’d gotten in months.

What happened that night became a routine shortly after. Whenever you were buried deep in research papers and exam flashcards, eyes burning from countless hours of studying, Wanda would be your saving grace. Your stepmom would poke her head into your room, encouraging you to take a break, and you’d wind up laying against her chest with one of her pretty nipples in your mouth and her sweet milk trickling down your throat.

Sometimes she enjoyed messing with you. In her mind, toys were meant to be played with.

One night, she’d asked you if you wanted to watch something with her and when you agreed, she put on your favorite show. It always gave you butterflies when she remembered what you liked to watch, but how could she not? You were the apple of her eye whether you knew it or not.

You expected her to solicit you into sucking her dry, like always, but she didn’t, leaving you feeling lost and confused. You hadn’t realized how much you began to rely on that as a way to de-stress until she wasn’t willingly offering it to you.

She wanted you to ask her for it yourself, to show her that you wanted her. You weren’t sure how to ask for something like that - it still felt wrong to you despite her constant reassurances that it was normal for mommies to take care of their precious angels that way.

Instead of voicing what you wanted, you nuzzled your face against her breasts, hoping she would understand.

“Aw, do you want something sweetheart?” she asked, feigning sympathy so you wouldn’t be able to tell how much she was getting off on your desperation.

“Please,” you mumbled.

“Please what? You have to tell me what you want or I won’t know how to help,” she replied tenderly.

“Can I…” you paused, not knowing how to phrase it. “Taste you? I mean like… are they full?” you asked, glancing down at her chest before meeting her eyes again, her curious look intimidating you by the second until you were unraveling. “I’m sorry, actually, I don’t know why I’m asking you that, I-”

She cut you off with a firm hand grabbing your jaw, silencing you. Her thumb came up to brush against your bottom lip, the sight of you so needy for her making her shiver.

“Of course you can, detka. All you had to do was ask.” And with that she was removing her top and pulling you close, smirking to herself as you latched on and fell asleep in her hold, all of your worries forgotten for the night.

One night, she invited you to go swimming with her, neglecting to mention that she wasn’t wearing a bathing suit under her robe and letting you find that out for yourself when she stood bare before you on the patio. She swayed her hips purposefully as she walked over to the pool, making sure to bend over and give you a delicious view as she stepped into the water.

Unable to get the vivid image of her perfect backside out of your mind, you shook your head and slowly undressed. You, unlike her, had worn a bathing suit and you decided to keep it on as your nerves followed you to the pool.

Sitting on the steps, she welcomed you in, not hesitating to pull you close to her body. With your head leaning against her arm, so close to where you longed to bury your face, you looked up at her and she simply nodded.

Your hot mouth felt amazing against her nipple, cold from the water and the nighttime air. She hummed as you ran your tongue over the bud, trying to stimulate it enough to get your reward. When nothing came out, you sucked harder, your teeth grazing her sensitive flesh and causing her to whimper.

You quickly pulled away. “Sorry,” you blurted out, your eyes wide.

“It’s okay, sweet girl. It felt good,” Wanda cooed, bringing one hand to the back of your head and the other to your hand under the water. She gently pulled your head back to her chest while moving your hand towards her aching center. “Sometimes when you drink mommy’s milk, it makes her feel tingly down here,” she explained, pressing your fingers against her pussy.

You felt the heat radiating from her core, warm and wet with something that wasn’t just the water from the pool. She guided your fingers to slide through her slick folds and you moaned against her breast at the feel of her.

That seemed to sober you up and you pulled back for a moment to speak. “This isn’t right, we’re not supposed to-”

“Quiet, detka,” she snapped coldly. “I told you I’ll always take care of you and do what’s best for you, didn’t I?” You nodded and she softened at that. “That’s right. Don’t you want to make your mommy feel good? It hurts down there.”

You nodded again, murmuring out a “yes mommy” and kissing around her breasts apologetically.

“Good girl,” she praised, making you clench your thighs together.

That night, you filled her up with your fingers while she filled you up with her milk. She came hard against the wall of the pool and you felt pride welling up within you at the beautiful sight of her in ecstasy. When you grew sleepy, she helped you inside, taking you to her room where you fell asleep on her chest.

She looked down at you fondly, knowing without a doubt that she loved you more dearly than she’d ever loved anything in her life. The love she had for your father didn’t even come close to the way she felt about you. Her heart felt whole with the knowledge that you loved her just as much, all on your own.

She may have had to coax it out of you, but flowers don’t grow where seeds aren’t planted. And in her garden, you were her favorite flower.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff imagine #stepmom!wanda maximoff #alexa writes #kinktober

3K notes · View notes

orchidyoonkook · 1 year

Text

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 1

Title: Assembly’s and Introductions

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Mild Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: There’s a new kid at your prestigious university, he’s tall, tattooed and muscular, and oh yeah, he’s the Prince.

Warnings: PG13, mild swearing, a general ‘lets get the ball rolling’ first chapter

Word Count: 5410

Release Date: January 26, 2023, 12:40PM

A/N 1: I’ve been working on this since September 2022, got 80K in, and have accidentally taken an extended break from Dec 1st until now. I need a kick in the pants to continue writing it so here’s the first chapter. I hope you enjoy as I have read this about 400 times and I’m sick of editing it.

A/N 1.5: it’s pronounced ‘Nehl” not “Neal”

“Come on, come ooooon!!” Yuri says as she drags you by one arm down the corridor, the other filled with books and study notes. You’re being dragged from your mid morning study session and she's starting to stretch your favourite sweater from how hard she’s pulling.

Slipping from her grasp to save it from any permanent damage, Yuri uses her new freedom to take the lead.

“Not everyone cares as much about this as you do,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I get you’re here because your parents put you here but I worked for it. I can’t just abandon my study plans for some guy,” voice echoing in the corridor as you succeed in keeping up with her quick pace.

Yuri mocks your words in gibberish, matching your tone, just more nasally.

She’s heard this hundreds of times since becoming your best friend in first year after being assigned your roommate. She may force you to go to places and parties you don’t find nearly as important as she does, but you also know she’s the only reason you’ve had any fun since starting university.

That doesn’t deter you though.

“I’m serious,” you insist, refusing to back down.

A look you know well flashes over her face. One that’s a mixture of absurdity and exhaustion— specifically at you.

“You know, sometimes I can’t even believe we’re friends. He’s not just some guy YN,” she looks over her shoulder to make eye contact. “He's the prince.”

Ah yes, the prince.

How could you be so foolish?

The fancy name given to the poor bastard who doesn’t get to decide his future—or work for it for that matter. Just has it handed to him because he was born at the right place, right time.

The prince who’ll be king to the biggest nation in the west one day.

The prince everyone freaks out over.

Sure, he’s cute enough, and will eventually have lots of money and power, because those are so important for someone like him.

But what’s money and power if you’re miserable or an asshole or you don’t know what to do with it? What’s money and power for someone who’s never known poverty and helplessness?

The title of Prince means nothing if you don’t earn it. Means nothing if you don’t know how to use it properly.

Who knows if this one does? So why should you particularly care?

Unfortunately, most people can’t get past the ‘young, handsome, future king of the Western Shores, hunk-a-hunk of dreamy’—blah, blah, blah, the media splatters over every magazine cover they possibly can, earning the prince a hefty social following of adoring, screaming—slightly brain dead if you had any say about it— ‘followers’ aka fans.

And Yuri, like every other girl on campus, is one of them. Minus the brain dead and screaming.

Well…Sort of minus the screaming.

She has screamed, in the past at least. So maybe just minus the brain dead part…

Anyways, she’s grabbing your wrist and you sigh, wringing yourself free of her near iron grip, again. But you can’t blame her.

Yuri’s focused on one thing, and one thing only.

And it’s beginning in 15 minutes.

“Plus I want good seats!”

You scoff.

“He’s just a person, Yuri. I get he’s got an important title and fancy job, but that’s all that separates him from us.”

She glares at you as you reach the courtyard of your school.

Trees surround the perimeter in evenly placed lines, a large running fountain at its center. There’s plenty of open grass space the students use to study, picnic or throw a ball around on. And its cobblestone walkways are currently covered in rows upon rows of filled up seats.

Most of those filled seats are in the middle though, which surprises you. You would’ve thought girls would be lining up at the front row to see their prince.

“Yeah, just the title and fancy job,” Yuri says, taking her turn to scoff and opens her hand to count on her fingers. “Let's not count the fact that he’s insanely hot—have you seen his body? His face? Or what of the land he’ll inherit on top of the land he already owns? And money! Can’t forget that. Or clothes. Not enough? I can keep going,” she switches to her other hand. “How about control over the largest kingdom in The West? They don't call him ‘Prince of the Western Shores’ for nothing, Sweets. Also the mass of adoring fans, security and advisors following his every move, nice cars, fancy vacation houses…should I keep going?”

You’re pretty sure she only stopped because she ran out of fingers and you don’t deign her with a reply. Yuri seems content to have made her point and she did.

But you’d never admit that to her. Instead you keep walking, taking in the sights around you.

Your school is The Royal Academy of Business and Fine Arts. Anyone can study here if they have the cash, or the brains, though one method is much more abused than the other.

It’s one of the most prestigious schools in the world because it’s where nearly every royal on this half of the continent goes to university. Hence the “Royal'' in the title.

Ladys, lords, dukes, duchesses, princesses and yes, princes all go here—are most of your classmates, actually. But there is only one prince everyone cares about. The one who, in the next few short years, will not only be at your school for whatever it is his father deems appropriate for him to study in his post secondary education, but the one who is also first in line and heir to the biggest kingdom in The West—if it hadn’t been mentioned before.

His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook.

Okay… look.

It’s not that you don’t like him, he hasn’t done anything to make you hate him, and you’re sure he’s a decent guy once you get to know him.

It’s just that you don’t really feel any type of way about him, positive or negative. And that confuses so many people around you.

Which in turn, confuses you.

Most people seem to think he’s some sort of god sent angel carved by the hands of whoever created the universe. Fawning over him and thinking he can do no wrong. But what they all fail to see is that he’s just like them.

Got a bit more of a leg up on life than most, sure, but still human. Like you, or Yuri.

He eats and showers and uses the bathroom. He gets a runny nose and puffy eyes when he’s sick. He has bad hair days and ties his own shoes… you think.

He’s just a regular guy with an irregular job. So no, you had no opinion on him other than disinterested neutrality.

But if you had to feel something? You guess you probably felt pity.

You worked your ass off in highschool to get where you are. You and your mom screamed until your voices were hoarse when you got your acceptance letter two and a half years ago. One of 25 scholarship students accepted on a full ride every year.

You were doing a major in fine arts and a minor business, wanting to milk your education for all it’s worth on their dime. Lucking out that your two areas of interest were not only at one school, but at one of the best schools in the world for both subjects.

You chose what you wanted for your life and you worked for it for years. And now you sit comfortably at the top of your class in both fine arts and business, not taking your opportunity for granted for a second.

Jungkook though? He’s expected to go here. Doesn’t have much of a choice about it, and he doesn’t have to work for it either.

A small part of you that has yet to mature envies him for how easy he has it, for the privileges he is given simply because of one six letter word in front of his name. That he didn’t have to put in 60 hour weeks and give up his teenage years just to prove he was good enough to be here.

He was born good enough.

But that’s a small part of you, and you can ignore it if you try hard enough.

The point is you felt pity because he’s probably never had to work for something a day in his life. He doesn’t know the satisfaction of working towards something, to not only succeed, but to be the best.

To earn what he has.

He won’t know what to do when real life hits him.

Yuri lets a baby scream loose as she spots her desired seats and yanks you out of your thought spiral.

The front of the courtyard is still relatively empty, middle still filling up faster than anything else.

“Yes! Score! First row, left side, that’s perfect! He'll definitely see us.”

She grabs your arm a third time and it’s an effort not to drop your books and groan at her.

Yuri’s like you in the sense where she is not royalty, but unlike you she—or should you say, her parents—are loaded.

Family business perks.

She’s here because she can be, because her family can afford to send her and make donations, not because she wants to be or because she worked for it.

But don’t misunderstand that, Yuri works hard. She just happens to party more than she studies most days. That and plan her future with a very rich and handsome guy who has yet to be determined.

You’d jokingly deemed her a royalty hunter after about an hour of meeting her for how badly she wanted to ‘marry up.’

“See you,” you correct, or has she forgotten about Nel, your boyfriend of 5 years? Your high school sweetheart and who is currently, much to your dismay, at school about 5000 miles away.

“I’m sure Cornelius wouldn’t be mad if the prince charms his girl just once, seeing as his royal highness can do that to most people just by breathing near them,” she quips. ”And even if he would get mad, Jungkook can just have him thrown in a dungeon for being overprotective and jealous.”

“The royal palace doesn’t have dungeons, but they do have a series of interrogation rooms on the third lower level,” you inform her. You did a project on the history and architecture of the royal palace in tenth grade—and Nel really wouldn’t care, he knows where he stands, just like you do.

“How do you just know that!”

Yuri didn’t know you in highschool and you used that to your advantage every single time you could, laughing bright and loud.

She starts dragging you down the walkway again, a habit of hers. Like she’s worried you’ll try to slip away if she isn’t forcing you where she wants you to be.

It’s a good instinct on her part.

You're nearly there, so you focus more on the trees just starting to turn colours overhead, casting slightly pigmented shadows on the ground. Fall is just starting to creep up on the heels of summer, the days of sunscreen and chlorine slowly being replaced by pumpkin spice and crisp apples.

She sits exactly where she wanted too, and you plop beside her, glad you’re wearing a light sweater and tights. They are just warm enough to keep the slight breeze from giving you chills, but also keep your legs from sticking to the plastic seats.

For such an expensive school to go to you’d think they’d have better assembly furniture.

You notice a news camera off in the distance and suddenly understand the empty front seats. No one wants to publicly embarrass themselves on national television from seeing the prince, rewindable and replayable, forever seared into the internet.

It’s times like these you’re happy you’ve never been one to get starstruck. They’re all just people, why be shocked or surprised when they exist near you?

Opening up your books on your lap, you figure you can kill the next ten minutes in a productive way, considering what happened to your original plans for the mid morning.

And as you do, you feel the seats around you begin to fill, not a single one empty by the time the event starts. Not even the ones up front.

A jerked movement catches your eyes and you see that two seats closer to the pedestal from Yuri is Adaline.

Great.

Adaline Dupree is basically a princess from the Eastern Shores. ‘Basically’ because she’s not, but she certainly acts like she is. A fake princess, an even bigger royalty hunter than your best friend and your not so secret arch nemesis.

She’s in your fine arts classes—all of them, unfortunately—her proper title being ‘Duchess of…’ some province you never bothered to learn the name of, and she’s one of the most well known people on campus.

Tall, with beautiful blonde hair, hazel eyes, freckles, a slim figure and quite the socialite. You’re surprised she went into fine arts and not modeling. She’s got the ego part of the job down pat.

Good for her for being pretty. But anyone could be beautiful on the outside with enough money and a surgeon. That’s not why you considered her your nemesis, you don’t give a shit about any of that.

She was your nemesis in the academic world. Because not only was she beautiful, she was also brilliant at her craft.

Which happened to also be your craft, and it pissed you off to no end.

Where you were first, she was second and where she was first, you were second. Always neck in neck with one another, always trying to one up each other.

You only considered yourself better than her because unlike her, you hoped at least, Adaline was a complete and total bitch. She took what she wanted without remorse and she wasn’t above sabotage to get it.

You learned that the hard way in your first year. And you’ve always wondered if that was her privileged upbringing speaking or if she’s just like that naturally, so unused to not getting what she wanted that she’d take it.

Therefore, it is of absolutely no shock to you that she’s sitting as close as she possibly can to where the prince will be standing. Directly in front of the pedestal at the base of the fountain in the center of the courtyard.

A door opens to your right followed by a couple screams, and you can only assume the man of the hour has arrived. A red camera light flicks on in your peripheral vision and you take that as your confirmation and cue to close your books.

The Dean of Schools, a few advisor looking people, a good handful of terrifyingly large security guards, and a head of black hair you conclude to be the prince all make their way towards their destination.

A smirk graces your face at all the girls batting eyelashes or screaming his name, as if that would get his attention. You’re about to mention that exact thought to Yuri, but you notice her eyelashes looking awfully similar to those around you and can’t help failing to stifle a laugh.

She catches it. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say. “You might just want to pick your jaw up off the ground.”

Her response gets cut off when a voice comes over the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for such a warm welcome,” says the Dean, calm and assured. She knew exactly the welcome they'd receive. “I’ll keep my introduction short. Today, I present to you not only the newest addition to The Royal Academy of Business and Fine Arts, but the future King of our great nation. He has requested to formally address the student body before he starts classes this fall semester, so without further adieu: His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook.”

Riigghht. Did you mention he was the prince of the country you’re living in?

Well…he is.

The crowd soars in volume once more, a couple “I love you’s” thrown in for good measure as the prince steps up and you zone out.

From your angle, you can see his whole body from the side, and that even though he’s holding cue cards, he doesn’t use them, placing them face down on the pedestal.

His dark hair is swept back in a suave styling and he’s wearing a simple navy long sleeve button up, black dress pants and matching leather shoes.

The outfit makes him look ever so princely and very much not like a student. More like one of the faculty.

However, what you don’t expect are the small patches of ink on his arm peeking out of his right sleeve. Or just how tight the clothes he wears are on his apparently very muscular form.

You remember Yuri’s words from earlier, only now registering. You knew he had muscles, no one ever shut up about them. But seeing them in person… wow.

You kind of want to sketch him—for anatomy practice, of course.

The prince begins his address to the crowd and an eerie silence replaces the roars from earlier. You take a quick look around and notice that not one person isn’t completely transfixed on him. Even the dean can’t keep her eyes off him.

You give him credit for not balking under the intense gazes of literally everyone. You know you sure as hell would have, never being one to like being the center of attention. At least, not like this.

You clue into his speech as you look back at him. He’s talking about how he found himself as a teenager thinking of what he wanted his future to look like and what he wanted to do with his schooling, which is not only why he took a couple years to explore the continent before enrolling, but why he will be doing a major and a minor at the school.

One for his career, and one for his heart.

You won’t admit to yourself that the sentiment very closely resonates with you.

He continues.

“All that said, I asked to address you all today for one very simple reason, being that, for my time here at the academy, I wish to be treated like any other student. I am not unaware of my celebrity and how I am seen to the outside world. It is not lost on me my place in the world and who I am to become. I know for some that it may be… difficult to see me for anything other than who I am, and this is why I ask you humbly, just for the short while that I’m here, you all treat me no differently than you already do one another,” he pauses for a moment. “I extend my request most deeply to those who will be studying alongside me in my business administration major and photography minor, as I don’t want it to affect my studies.”

Yuri slaps her hand down onto your leg causing you to jerk forward and you clamor to not drop any of your books. Business administration is her major. Her parents want her to take over the family biz after school.

That was probably why she partied so much. Living as much as she can before being thrust into a job she doesn’t want for the rest of her life.

Pity creeps back up your throat at the thought.

Jungkook notices your jerking movement, but only for a second. His eyes meet yours and you hope yours convey ‘sorry for interrupting’.

You may not care about him, but just like him you are not unaware of his status in the world outside the walls of your school.

Yuri, of course, thinks he’s looking at her and not only does her grip on your leg tighten to the point of circulation cut off, she returns to her earlier routine of batting her eyelashes.

You roll your eyes away from her sight, but unbeknownst to you, well within the gaze of Jungkook.

He suppresses a smile at your response to your friend's clear attempts to gain his attention.

You, on the other hand, seem indifferent to him. He has the entire student body watching his every move with hawk-like precision, enraptured. Normal, for him.

But you?

You just seem to… not care. Like he wasn’t anyone special. Like the word in front of his name meant nothing.

And if it wasn't the most freeing feeling he’s felt in a long time.

“Thank you so much for your time, and I’ll see you all around campus,” he finishes before stepping down, security wrapping around him again until he’s barely visible. The dean pops up to conclude the gathering but you aren’t paying attention anymore, too busy trying to peel Yuri’s hand off your thigh.

“Yuri, retract the claws please!” you whisper-yell to your friend. And she does in fact, retract instantly.

“Shit, sorry. My brain is running a million miles a minute,” she says as she pinches herself, shaking her head and smiling. “I’m three years ahead of him in his major. His major YN! But he’s still older than us, which is so hot. I'm so glad he did that tour in the east and whatever else that kept him back for a couple years, it makes this whole situation even better,” you start to worry at the look in her eye as she continues.

“What if he needs a tutor? What if I become his tutor, and we fall in love like a cliche romance movie. I could be the future queen. YN, this could actually happen for me. I could actually get the prince, it’s not some wild dream anymore. I could talk to him and he would talk back and this could happen.”

You can feel that she’ll just keep spiraling, nothing being able to stop her train of thought at this point, so you try your best to at least have her do her thinking in her head.

“Maybe! I wish you nothing but luck!” And you mean it. You don’t think it will happen the way she does, but you never know. And you don’t want to give her false hope.

You’ve always been the realist to Yuri’s optimist.

With the assembly over, most of the crowd files out of the courtyard quickly, prior plans calling to them or classes starting soon.

Only a few stragglers are left behind. You and Yuri are two of them, as well as Adaline, and a couple more you don’t know.

Security starts to spread out and you watch as Jungkook makes his way to the people farthest from you, much to their delight.

It’s a group of guys, all of whom look muscular enough to be varsity athletes. Maybe Jungkook will want to do sports while he’s here. You know that he’s an accomplished rugby player, greatly to his fathers dismay, but to the pleasure of anyone who has about $10 and has access to magazines or wifi.

“Oh my god he’s making his way over. Do. Not. Move. I want him to come to us,” Yuri says, forcing you to stay in your spot. It would be fruitless to try anything anyway. Another lesson you learned the hard way in first year.

She starts fluffing her hair and asking you to check her teeth. You do. She’s in the clear.

Unfortunately, you two would most likely be the last people he greeted, so you had to watch as he made his way down the line of people.

He greets the guys with a handshake and a clap to the back, and the girls with a kiss to the top of the hand.

One thing you notice as he meets more and more people is that everyone still calls him ‘prince’ or ‘your highness.’

It’s automatic for them, they’re not even thinking twice about it, but it’s also completely besides the point of half of his whole speech. He wanted to be treated like everybody else.

It especially irked you when it was Adaline’s turn and she put on her most feminine, formal, and ridiculously overly flirty, “Hello, Prince Jungkook,” before curtseying, blasting her full facade of charm and courteousness.

Ever the dainty, prim and proper duchess, she’s all small laughs and less than subtle flirting, never impolite, and never speaking out of turn.

You wanted to gag, and you’re quite sure that’s exactly what your face conveyed. But Jungkook smiles wide for her, and is as kind to her as he was to everyone else prior. He even flirts back a little bit.

Yeah, you definitely want to gag. What a match those two would make.

But just as soon as he greets Adaline and her friend, he politely steps away and moves on to you and Yuri.

“Hello ladies, what might your names be?” he asks ever so formally.

You gently laugh at being called a lady and Yuri shoots you a look. Jungkook doesn’t appear to take offense though.

“Hello, your highness!” Yuri chirps in the most ‘I'm trying to flirt but trying to not sound like I’m flirting’ voice you’ve ever heard her use. “My name is Yuri Yeun, and I’m actually a business admin major too, just a few years ahead.”

Jungkook lifts her hand to his mouth, giving it a light kiss and she looks like she’s about to explode.

“It’s lovely to meet you Yuri, I’ll look forward to seeing you around the halls,” he says in the same tone he’s used for everyone else. He’s about to face you, but Yuri cuts in quickly.

“If you ever need any help with your studies, just let me know. I’d be happy to help you with anything you might need help with. Having already been through it, I may be able to give a students insight versus a professors.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future. Thank you for your generosity.” Again that same tone, you mentally dub it his ‘greeting the public like the ever so good royal I am’ voice.

He turns to you and extends his hand for yours.

You reach for it, twisting it so that instead of a hand turned upright to be kissed, it’s a regular handshake. If he wanted to be treated like anyone else here, you sure as hell were going to.

“I’m YN, it’s nice to meet you Jungkook.” At the mention of his name untitled, he pauses, eyes widening ever so slightly. It’s not a bad pause, just a surprised one. And by the looks of the small smile on his face, a good one.

Yuri's eyes, on the other hand, almost bug out of her skull at your informal greeting.

“Likewise,” he manages to get out, completely unlike his usually composed self.

You're the only one who hasn’t addressed him with his title, and it’s the most like him he’s ever felt.

Twice in one day—in one hour—you’ve managed to make him feel more human and more like himself than he ever has. With your distinct indifference to him of all things.

Jungkook decides then and there he’s very sure he wants more of it in his life.

He still hasn’t stopped shaking your hand, and you don’t know why that’s the only thing you can focus on. His hand is firm and calloused, the kind that can only be built over years of hard work.

Releasing you the second you think it, he looks as if he hadn’t realized he was still holding on too.

Quick to step back into his princely role, Jungkook says, “Pardon my forwardness, but I just have to say that the two of you are beautiful, and that it’s been lovely to meet you both.”

You swear you see Yuri’s soul ascend from her body at his words. “Thank you, Your Highness! That means so much coming from someone as well met as yourself,” she nearly fawns, and you roll your eyes out of her sight for the second time today.

And for the second time today, Jungkook does not let the gesture go unnoticed. How you hold no fear in showing how you feel in front of others, even those you’ve just met. As if it holds no consequence.

It doesn’t for you, he realizes.

You can freely show how you feel without worry of anyone over-analyzing your every facial tic. No fear that a slight misuse of a lip quirk or eyebrow raise could give away national secrets or offend a visiting diplomat.

He envies you for it. For having that freedom he so rarely does.

“You’re most welcome, Yuri. I’m glad you hold my opinion in such high regard.” He flashes her that well practiced bright smile and you already know what she won’t be shutting up about it anytime soon.

“I’ve always been told I have my fathers bone structure but my mothers beauty. I’ll be sure to let them know their Prince thinks the combination is worth complimenting,” you respond, not braggadocious or sarcastic in the slightest.

You know it would make your mom so proud to hear the future king found you pretty, even if you knew the compliment was given to every girl here.

Your father wasn’t in the picture, but that didn’t matter and the prince didn’t need to know.

“I hope they won’t mind a stranger's compliment on their daughter then,” Jungkook says, ducking his head slightly and giving you a smaller smile.

This one felt genuine, like he wanted to hold it back but couldn’t. So you return a small one of your own, to let him know this was an even exchange. You may not feel any type of way about the prince, but you were raised to be kind.

“Any praise for their daughter from the future King would be welcomed any day, I’m sure,” Yuri cuts back in, killing his smile along with it.

You’re sad to see it go.

“I’m relieved to hear it,” he responds, princely public persona back on. Stupid flashy smile back on. “What will you two be heading off to do now?”

“What I wanted to be doing for the last half hour in the first place before being hauled down here by this one,” you point a thumb at Yuri. “Finishing my study hour at the library,” you add quickly, before Yuri can get out her answer. You almost wish you hadn't because the hand that had your thigh in a death grip earlier now only somewhat playfully swats your shoulder.

“YN!”

“What!? I’m just being honest. He wants to be treated like anyone else right? That comes with people being honest to you instead of glazing over their answers with pretty little white lies to appease you.”

Yuri looks ready to rip you a new one, but she’s cut off again before she can open her mouth. This time by the prince.

“No, no it’s okay,” Jungkook says before she can swat you again. She stops mid swing at his words, eyes as wide as saucers at being stopped. “YN’s right, I appreciate the honesty, and I apologize for the interruption. I hope your studies will not be too greatly affected because of it.”

“Guess we’ll find out during midterm season,” you say with a smirk that turns into a genuine smile as you see Jungkook look panicked, like he actually thinks he messed up your education by disturbing your study session.

Relief quickly replaces the panic when he sees your smile and realises it was a joke.

Being treated like a regular person also meant being joked with at their expense, and he takes it in stride as his small smile from earlier makes a comeback.

“Well I have class in half an hour,” Yuri says, finally answering his question, “So probably grabbing a coffee from the cafe near the biz-admin building… I could show you if you want?”

“That sounds great actually, I’m still trying to figure out where everything is.”

“Great! Let’s go.”

Jungkook, ever the gentleman, lifts an arm for her to take and you watch them walk off, Yuri absolutely beaming as she glances back at you. You give her a thumbs up before collecting your books and heading back in the direction of the library.

Chapter Two: Unknown Numbers and Sharp Tongues

A/N 2: and so it begins.

1K notes · View notes

mitsuyeaah · 1 year

Text

work my magic.

— shuji hanma x gn! reader

cw: fluff (i think), sexual tension??

a/n: his hands inspired me to write this oops

“what are you up to, doll?” shuji plopped beside you on the couch. you were mindlessly stretching your upper body here and there, a dull pain making its way throughout your back and shoulders from sitting too long all afternoon. “nothing much… my shoulders and back feel so stiff from all that sitting.” you groaned, turning your body to your boyfriend and slung an arm over his stomach.

an office job was fine for the most part but you didn’t fancy how you sat on your chair and in front of a computer for hours on end, causing your muscles to stiffen up.

shuji let out a soft sigh and ‘tsked’, “i keep telling you to take 5 minute breaks and walk around the office for a bit. your back is always hurting.” he looked down at you with his golden eyes, a hint of concern washing over his face.

before you could say anything, your boyfriend sat up and turned to face you, “okay, lie on your stomach.” he instructed, earning a curious expression from you. you lifted a brow at his strange request, “why?”

he sighed playfully rolled his eyes, “just trust me.” there was a slight glint of enthusiasm in his eyes. despite being suspicious, nonetheless, you got on your stomach as shuji stood up from the couch to give you some space to settle down.

you placed a pillow underneath your chest, hugging it as you waited for him to do whatever he wanted to do.

“i’ve been watching these massaging youtube videos because you’re always complaining about your sore body.” he spoke from behind you, sitting back down on the couch to straddle your legs.

your chest warmed at the thought of shuji going out of his way to learn how to properly massage because of your sore muscles, “you did it for me?” you piped up, head slightly craning back to look at him.

“no, i did it for me.” he replied flatly, earning a slight chuckle from you. “i’m kidding. now, let me work my magic. it’s not as good as professionals but i’ll try my best.” shuji leaned forward, placing his palms on your upper back.

“its okay, as long as it’s your hands, i know it’s going to be good.” you mumbled against the pillow, closing your eyes at his hands working through your back.

that sentence shouldn’t have affected shuji more than it did.

shuji mainly focused on your upper back and shoulders, kneading through the tight muscles there, earning a loud groan from you, “that feels so good.” his hands were big enough to cover much of the areas he needed to focus on and it worked wonders.

the way he used shorter, circular strokes with the right amount of pressure had your eyes almost rolling back, you could also feel your muscles loosening under his touch. his hands felt so good that you just had to let out a sound.

shuji slightly stiffened at the sound you made but continued working on your back, brushing off the weird feeling he was getting. he swallowed thickly, there was no way he was about to be turned on from this.

“ah, right there! it feels good there.” you let out a moan as his hands curled around your shoulders, pressing on them while placing some of his weight down on you. “right here?” shuji whispered, placing his hands on where your shoulders met your neck.

“mhm, ah, that’s it, shuji.” you moaned in content as he applied pressure on that certain spot. his throat bobbed at the sounds that came out of you, ears reddening at your praise. this was supposed to be nothing but an innocent massage but why is he getting worked up?

he continued massaging your taut muscles as you let out sighs of content and occasional praises here and there at how amazing his hands felt. shuji’s mind raced, different kinds of thoughts clouded his mind.

fuck, he was turned on.

“you know… these hands can make you feel good somewhere else.” he broke the silence, his voice dropping down an octave lower as his hands slowly made it’s way down.

if you weren’t pinned down on your stomach right now, you would’ve smacked him already, playfully, of course.

#hanma shuji #hanma imagines #hanma fluff #hanma x y/n #hanma x you #hanma x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 15 days

Text

Jay Halstead (& Platonic! Will Halstead): People You Love

Some stories just write themselves and that is what this one did. I’ve been in a writing mood lately and I have a whole list of ideas I want to go through. This isn’t super Jay x reader-focused.

Warnings: Mentions of PTSD and anti Will/ Natalie content

You took a sip of your drink listening to Will talk to his brother about his latest disagreement with Natalie. You had learned at the beginning of your relationship with Jay and first meeting Will that it was not a topic of conversation that you should chime in on.

Will wanted to be with Nat and there was nothing that could change that to his and her own detriment. You stirred the brightly colored liquid with your straw, listening to the ice cubes click against the glass. It was a sweet drink that Gabby had made for you. You were one of the few who frequented Molly’s that didn’t drink beer and only ordered mixed drinks. You had gotten hell for it from a few of the blue-collar boys, but Gabby had taken that as a challenge. There was always a new drink she had found for you to try.

You tried to hide your wince by taking a drink when Will went through some particularly low blows of the fight. The saying sticks and stones make break my bone never considered how cutting words could be. Especially from the people who were supposed to love you. “You want another babe?” Your eyes flashed between his eyes and your cup which you now found almost empty. You hesitate, but with the way Will is going, you will probably be here for quite a while yet.

“Yeah, just one more,” You agree. You watch him leave the table and make his way over to the crowded bar top. He wouldn’t have to wait if not for your drink, but he never complained. You heard a sigh and the loud click of a bottle being set more forcefully on the table.

“Alright, let's hear it.” You glance up at Will expectantly. You weren’t close but you had acquaintanceship because of Jay. You liked Will but it was hard to form a real friendship with someone when you felt like you had to edit everything you said because they couldn’t handle your honesty. Will had a strong alpha male confidence and ego. He needed someone who could call him to the carpet, but you weren’t willing to risk your relationship with Jay to be that for him. You tilted your head in question to his statement. “I know you want to say something, so let’s hear it.” You shake your head circling your straw in your cup again. The bangles that lined your arms clinked together loudly as they slid down to your wrists. “C’mon,” Will pressed.

“It’s nothing you want to hear.”

“But there is something you want to say.” His gaze held yours and he raised his eyebrows in question. There was a challenging spark in his eyes. He was looking for a fight. “You’ve been with my brother for almost a year and never had an opinion you wanted to share about any of my relationship problems? I doubt that. I’ve been trying and nothing has been working out. So, I’m up for a female viewpoint.”

“What you want is a fight. I like my relationship with Jay, I’m not going to ruin it by fighting with his older brother.” Will sits up a little straighter in his seat.

“Is that so? Well, this one can be on the house. No backlash or fallout. The way I see it-I asked, you answered.” You eye him up and down trying to determine the truth of his words and if he was able to abide by what he just offered. You looked at the bar. Jay was leaning leisurely against the bar top talking to Kelly Severide, Matt Casey, and Gabby. You could tell he was still going to be a minute. You look back at Will and nod.

“You and Natalie are never going to work.” Will blows out a breath and leans back in his seat before scoffing and shaking his head.

“You don’t-” You shake your head at him holding up your hand making all the bangles clank down to the bottom of your forearm, the loud noise effectively covering up his rebuttal.

“Uh-uh, you asked my opinion and now you're going to listen to it.” Will mouth turns into a firm line but he stays silent. “You two are bad for each other. I know you want it to work, to figure it out, for the little rainbows and butterflies to flutter down to fix all your problems. But it’s not going to happen. You two are bad for each other. She is bringing out the worst in you and from what I can tell- from the very limited time I’ve spent with you together- you are doing the same for her.”

“I love her,” You shake your head at the redheaded man in front of you.

“What you're doing to each other isn’t love Will. I know you care about her. Want what’s best for her but that doesn’t make it you. Love is finding each other's soft spots, their weakness. It’s learning and knowing exactly what could destroy them. It’s having all that power and choosing to protect them instead of bringing them to their knees.” You play with a bangle on your wrist twisting it, “I’ve been in a relationship where we picked each other to pieces, and I promise you Will that isn’t what you want.” You feel your eyes mist over with emotion, “It’s hard letting go but when you find someone that goes out of their way to protect you...When you would do anything to protect them...You will know that you’ve made the right decision.”

“I protect Natalie.” You shake your head at Will getting frustrated with his purposeful ignoring of the issues. “We just get heated sometimes, say things we don’t-”

“That’s what I am saying, Will. It seems to happen every other week with you too. Over stupid things that don’t matter.”

“Unlike you and Jay. Because I’m sure you too never fight.” Will shoots back and your frustration rises.

“Jay has PTSD. I’m more worried about protecting his mental health than notching up our day-to-day bickering. He gets in this headspace sometimes and it is irritating and frustrating because I just want him to talk to me. For him to let me help him. But he won’t. I didn’t understand at first. How could I? Then he had a really bad bout of it after a case. He didn’t hear me come in and I startled him. He pulled his gun on me. Pointed it right at my head.”

Will felt his own frustration turn into something churning in his stomach. He knew his brother struggled with PTSD from time to time. He knew that he had nightmares and that there were times when he was constantly on edge- hypervigilant. But Will had never been there to see the full extent of it. “When he realized it was me, I could see it all in his eyes. He was afraid that he could hurt me. That I would be afraid to be around him. If he had any idea how terrified I was, not that he would hurt me but that he would torture himself with it. Nobody can hurt Jay like Jay can. The fallout was awful. He struggled to get past it. I knew that it could never happen again.”

“So, what did you do?”

You looked at your arm and wiggled it. The bangles clank loudly together. “I made it so I can never sneak up on him again. When I went through my Bollywood phase and bought bangles my mom used to complain that the entire neighborhood could hear me when I walked around. I’m sure one highly trained soldier can hear it coming from a mile away.” You look over to meet your gaze with Will again. “Now when I see the signs, I wear them. That is what you do for the people you love.”

A look of understanding and respect is clear in Will’s eyes. You give him a smile and feel the threads of friendship beginning to form on the strong foundation of honesty and shared love of another person. “If you ever tell him that-” Will mimics zipping his lips before taking the last pull of his beer. You two sit in quiet understanding, and you can see Will marinating on your words. Whether they are thoughts about Jay or his relationship with Natalie you were unsure.

Jay returns a few minutes later, setting a vivid blue and green drink in front of you and two bottles of beer for the brothers. You eyed the drink thoughtfully, “Gabby said you had to try it. She called it sweet poison, I think.” You stir it before sipping through the straw. You could taste the rum. Gabby had a habit of being heavy-handed with your drinks. It was good though. You turned to look at Gabby and when she raised her eyebrows in question you gave her an enthusiastic nod. She fist-pumped her accomplishment before turning back to Matt. “That good?”

His strong hand found your thigh under the table, and you smiled at him. You caressed his forearm with one hand while pushing the drink closer to him with the other. “Yeah, try it.” He made a face at you but took a drink from the cup, not the straw. He merely shrugged his shoulders when you asked what he thought. “Yeah, yeah it’s always too sweet for you.” Jay looks over at his brother.

“You okay man?” He questions, Will was being too quiet.

“Yeah,” He runs his fingers through his curls, “I was just thinking... Might be a good time to get away for a while. Maybe do a week trip at Gramp's cabin. Fish and stock up on some more wood for the winter. You want to go?” The offer seems to throw Jay for a second. Between Will’s struggling relationship and Jay being busy with a heavy caseload they hadn’t had much time to spend together. Jay looks over at you and you smile brightly at him squeezing his arm.

“Yeah, I have some time saved up that I need to go through.”

#chicago pd #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x you #jay halstead imagine #will halstead

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 10 months

Text

Paper Rings

James Wilson x peds!reader

description - there's never a break when you're a doctor, someone is always in need. No matter what you have planned for the evening.

Wilson has a ring but y/n has a patient.

requested - yes

word count - 1.5k

authors note - obviously inspired by 'Paper Rings' by Taylor Swift. I am just falling in love with this story of this pair and I am looking forward to writing even more. But I would love to know how much viewership my fics are getting so please if you read it and like it - interact!

Masterlist

Requests open - here

-x-x-x-x-x-

*wilsons pov*

My hands just couldn’t stay still and felt the need to flick each finger constantly. Maybe they were nervous for what they knew they would be holding in a few minutes. I brought my hand down to my pocket, confirming the square shape that could be felt from outside the fabric.

I’d planned it all perfectly. Her favourite restaurant, the flowers. Even the new dress and shoes she currently adorned. She sat across from me looking as beautiful as ever. Her lips moved as she passionately discussed the recent case she’d been consulting on, but I couldn’t register any sound that escaped as I got lost in her eyes. I was mesmerised by her lips and the way they seemed to kiss each word that escaped them. Her hair looked unbelievably soft and I knew the subtle coconut smell that seeped through each lock. She was perfect. And she was mine.

“I’m so glad were doing this. As much as I love takeout and cuddling on the couch in sweats, it’s nice to dress up once in a while. Well, anything is better than scrubs.” She laugh melodiously.

“Well, you look very beautiful.”

“You think I look beautiful in scrubs.” She laughed incredulously.

“Well, you do, and super sexy.” I bit my lip thinking about my girl in those scrubs that fit her body like a glove. Hair scraped back, too focused on saving lives to worry about how it looks. It’s like knowing my girl is a superhero and seeing her in her costume; just so powerful and unbelievably sexy.

I’m knocked out of my thoughts when she leans over to caress my hand. “You need to stop that or we won’t make it to dessert.”

“I’m actually in the mood for something hot and sweet tonight.” She winked like the minx she is.

“I do have an ulterior motive for tonight.”

“If House walks in, I’m leaving right now-“

“No, he’s at a monster truck rally. I bought the tickets especially.”

“Good, we don’t need a repeat of last time. It’s like having a toddler with the humour of a 12-year-old boy.”

“Anyways as I was saying—”

A crashing sound reverberates around the whole restaurant and both our heads snap towards a table where a young boy had collapsed, pulling the table cloth with him. His mother jumps up to catch her son as he falls. She shrieks at the events that just transpired in front of her eyes. The mum yells and the dad announces to the restaurant…

“IS ANYONE HERE A DOCTOR?”

In perfect synchronisation, y/n and I rise to attention and both announce.

“We’re doctors.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

Y/n has just finished talking to the boy as the morphine takes him to sleep. She is still wearing her sleek black dress and red pumps, only now they’re covered by her lab coat. Is she trying to kill me. I join her, having also given up my dress coat for a lab coat. I couldn’t deny, we looked powerful together. Dressed to the nines, whilst saving a boy’s life.

“Simple allergic reaction.”

“Peanuts?”

“No, egg. I’ve never seen it develop this late.”

“Well, the parents are vegetarians so there’s a chance he’d never been exposed to it until now.”

“Thank god we were there.”

“No. Thank god you were there.” I lean down to kiss her nose as she scrunches it up. I love when she does that, she’s like a little bunny.

We walk towards the parents who have not stopped pacing since they entered the hospital. The mother hurriedly approaches us to meet us in the middle, whilst the father’s head remains hanging low.

“Mr and Mrs Carmichael, there is nothing to worry about, your son is fine now. He had an allergic reaction to egg. I’m going to write you a prescription for an epi pen but I recommend staying away from eggs altogether. Ooh I actually have an amazing birthday cake recipe that doesn’t use eggs in my office, I’ll go get it now.” I look on lovingly as she teeters down the corridor as fast as her heels could take her.

Mrs Carmichael laughs whilst wiping away the tears that fell in relief. Mr Carmichael shakes my hand whilst his wife composes herself once again.

“Thank you so much. Seriously, I mean I dread to think what would have happened if you and your wife hadn’t been there.”

“Oh she’s not my wife, but I’d really like her to be.”

“Well, we may have only known you guys for a few hours but I highly doubt she’d say no.” He patted me on the back and went to follow his wife who was slowly gravitating towards her sons room. I suddenly remembered that I was a doctor and had a patient.

“Oh yes, we want to keep your son in overnight for observation but you can take him home tomorrow.”

“Can I stay with him? I don’t want him to be alone when he wakes up.” his mother asked, her eyes never leaving her boy.

I soften my voice to reply. “Of course. I’ll set you up a makeshift bed.”

Mr Carmichael rubs his wifes back soothingly and guides her into the room.

“I’ll go home and make up a bag for you and him. I’ll be an hour tops.” He kisses her head and leaves her to sit down next to her son.

In that moment, I had never been more sure of what I was about to do.

-x-x-x-x-x-

I stand in the door of her office and I just watch on as she is standing on her desk trying to look amongst the multitude of toys and pictures on her shelves.

“I swear I saw the recipe just last week!”

“Honey, as much as I love this sight you’re gonna hurt yourself.” I make my way over and grip her waist to lift her down from the dangerous position. She grumbled but let me lift her anyway. I think she just likes it when I hold her, especially around her waist. She turns around in my arms.

“How are they?”

“The mum is gonna stay overnight and the dad went home to pack a bag for her.”

“We should get some sheets and pillows for her, she’s gonna be so uncomfortable.”

“Already done. She said it was comfy but I think she was just being nice.”

“Or 3 hours of pure stress worrying about her child meant hospital chairs and a few pillows did sound inviting.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I scanned every inch of her face to commit it to memory, as if it was the last time I’d ever see her face. She giggled, feeling bashful under my gaze.

“What did you want to say? At the restaurant, you were about to say something.”

“Oh yeah,” I was jerked back into reality. “I wanted to say that I never in my life thought I would meet anyone like you. As sweet as you, as kind as you, as smart as you. And, even when I met you, I never in a million years thought I deserved you. I know my history doesn’t exactly give me a stellar record, but I think on some level I’ve been waiting my whole life for this. For you. So—” As I finished, I began to feel around my pockets. The less I found, the quicker I checked. Damn it! My jacket was still at the restaurant.

A lightbulb went off and I sprinted away to look in her craft boxes. After a few minutes I turned back towards her. I got down on one knee.

“Dr y/n y/l/n, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” I presented to her a ring made out of two pink and red pipe cleaners twisted together.

Tears fell down her face and mixed in with her soft giggles.

“Yes! Yes! A thousand times, yes!” She threw herself down onto me so we both tumbled to the floor. She was on top of me, and we both scrambled to fit the pipe cleaner ring on her finger.

“I’m sorry it’s not a proper ring. It was in my jacket that I left at the restaurant, but I couldn’t wait a second longer without asking you-“ She met my lips in a deep kiss.

She pulled away ever so softly and whispered.

“You could have asked me with paper rings, and I would still marry you Dr James Wilson.”

“So, about dessert?” I raised my eyebrows suggestively.

-x-x-x-x-x-

We were cuddled up on her office couch, our bodies covered up with a single sheet. She admired the ring that still sat on her finger despite our activities.

“Just think soon we’ll no longer be Dr y/n y/l/n and Dr James Wilson and we will become Dr y/n y/l/n and Dr James Wilson.”

“No Wilson?” I laughed whilst stroking the smooth skin of her arm.

“That MD and PHD is mine, you’ve got your own.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

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frownyalfred · 10 months

Note

*busts down your doors* HEY! Long ask for ya

okay so I was rereading your fic where EMS showed up because Dick couldn’t flip on the trampoline (rip) and it got me thinking about routine trauma.

So here’s the thing: I am not EMS. I know three people who are EMS, but my extent of EMS experience comes from one (1) ride along and lurking on EMS subreddits. Those guys are a hoot. Great memes. Anyways.

A comment stuck out to me: “You haven’t truly lived the job until you’re eating a gas station burrito next to a dead body”. I’ve seen a bunch like that. Nonchalance and dark humor because well, that’s their job. Gore is the norm. Sure, depending on the area, your usual calls might just be lift assists, but other areas are neck deep in gang violence and violent crime.

A pretty common post on that subreddit is also, sadly, “I just got a call that’s never bothered me before but all of a sudden I’m broken” or “I’ve never had a problem running this type of call before but all of a sudden it just hit me.” Delayed trauma is a bitch. Someone pointed out that if a civilian saw a fatal car accident with multiple corpses, they’d be in therapy and given support and it’d be a huge deal. With EMS, they’re just expected to deal with it. (EMS mental health is getting better- there are helplines and resources and first responder focused therapies- but it’s still a developing field)

ANYWAYS, now that I’ve given you a crash course on the EMS mental health crisis (someone should really write a feature on EMS in Gotham those fuckers would be crazy and I love them already), my point is, how would this apply to the bats? Seeing bodies is treated as very much the norm to them, but do you think it ever just… catches up? The impact of seeing corpses day after day? Do you think they have to fake being fine and tough during those times because well, “everybody else in the family is fine with it, I’m not going to be a liability/burden/weak/etc”

Do you think Bruce, the goddamn batman, who shouldn’t be ruffled by anything, ever just feels something crack inside when he looks at a little boy who could have grown up healthy and strong like his Jason, had (Bruce) someone been there for him? and then he can’t work cases with kids for a week?

This is such an excellent ask, thank you so much for gracing my inbox with it!

It's a very good question. I'm also on a lot of those subreddits (needed to do some research for that fic) and the discussion in those forums and on TikTok is like you described, a kind of practiced desensitization to all gore and suffering in order to survive in their job.

What I've seen from those discussions (and my EMT friend) is an almost sub-conscious trend where they allow themselves the "thing" that breaks them, and they push a lot of that trauma and emotion onto that thing. Like an EMT saying they don't do kids, or they don't do gunshots to the eye, etc. And they'll sob like a baby on those calls, while remaining stone-faced and level-headed through the triple homicide.

I'm just theorizing here, but I imagine the Batfamily uses similar coping skills -- pushing all that trauma and suffering into a box which cracks only under limited, defined circumstances. And they break or snap only under those conditions, because, subconsciously, they allowed themselves to.

So yes, Bruce might be 99% fine with most of the bodies he sees, but there might be a little boy who has a detail (like Jason's dark hair) that just slams into him out of nowhere.

PTSD and trauma literally change the structure of the brain. Individuals react differently to trauma after that, but there does appear to be a "desensitizing" effect with repeated trauma, as the body tries to compensate.

I agree that the Gotham EMTs must be some crazy motherfuckers. They probably deal with 6x the normal shit EMTs deal with in other cities. They probably take on a lot more trauma and burn out quicker than other EMTs, too.

Anyone else have thoughts on this? I admit I don't cover PTSD explicitly in a lot of my fics.

#ptsd #trauma tw #ptsd tw #death tw #bruce wayne #dc #batman #myfic #theresurrectionist #batfamily #batfamily meta #bruce wayne meta #batman meta #asks

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cannibalizedyke · 2 years

Text

Brooklyn Baby

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 776

Warnings: Language, a bit of angst

Summary: You really wish Eddie Munson would stop playing with your feelings. (Inspired by the song by Lana Del Rey)

General Taglist: @gg-is-a-loser @yesshewrites1

Moots: @spidervee @iheardarumorthings @thewritingbabe @scandalous-chaos @ddejavvu @winterwisteria @abibliophobiaa @roxetteblack

Hawkins, Indiana is very different from Brooklyn, New York. You’re used to bustling streets, tall, busy buildings, and car horns honking even in the dead of night. Hawkins is small, and quiet. There are only a few stores and fewer restaurants and you’ve been to all of them. You like it, though; you like feeling like you’re the coolest person there, with your obsession with jazz and beat poetry and the novels you spend most of your time writing - you even sing in a band with Eddie Munson.

Eddie Munson.

You’re too cool for Eddie Munson, is what you always tell him.

“I know,” he’ll reply, smirking and twirling a strand of your hair in your fingers. “You’re like ice, baby.”

You’ll laugh, tilting your head back before covering your face. “Shit, that was terrible.”

Eddie’ll laugh as well, biting his lip before leaning closer. “I know,” he’ll whisper, and you’ll close your eyes for a kiss before he pulls away. Just like he always does.

You shake off your thoughts. You’re wearing a little white silk dress; your makeup makes you look like a 1940s femme fatale. Eddie’s letting you sing Lou Reed, your favorite artist, even though he usually sticks to current rock bands or original songs.

“You ready?” You feel his breath on your neck as he sidles up beside you.

You shiver. “Mhm.”

Eddie grins, patting you on the shoulder. “You’re gonna do great. You’re my Brooklyn baby, yeah?”

“Yup.” You force a smile, wishing his flirty remarks actually meant something to him. You sucked in a breath and walked onstage, which was really just a slightly elevated structure in the middle of a park.

Eddie began softly strumming his guitar, and after a moment you began to sing.

“Just a perfect day

“Drink Sangria in the park

“And then later, when it gets dark, we go home

“Just a perfect day

“Feed animals in the zoo

“Then later, a movie too, and then home…”

Eddie is mesmerized by your soft, haunting lilt of a voice. The strumming becomes subconscious as he focuses on you, watching the way the music captures your soul and takes you away from the world. You convey emotion like no one he’s ever seen, with your melancholy stares and delicate, ethereal movements. He loves you like no one he’s ever loved before, but he knows better than to get too close.

You’re a Brooklyn baby, cool as ice and hard as stone. His fleeting glances and flirtatious comments mean nothing to you, so he tries his best to make them mean nothing to him.

After the performance you follow him backstage; sweat glistens on your brow but it only makes you look more ethereal, like a goddess glowing and sparkling after placing an enchantment on a helpless man. Eddie knows not to get too close, but his body doesn’t; he feels himself stepping closer and closer against his will, and before he knows it his lips are on yours and he’s kissing you like his life depends on it.

You desperately kiss him back, grabbing his face and devouring him like you’ve fantasized about so many times. Then you break away, tears streaking mascara down your cheeks. You turn away, rubbing your arms shakily. “Please don’t play with me, Eddie,” you beg him quietly.

Eddie’s features twist in confusion. “What?”

“You don’t love me.” Your voice breaks. “Don’t flirt with me and touch my arm and kiss me like you care when I know you don’t.”

“(Y/N)...” Eddie takes a step toward you. “(Y/N), I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you. I’d never play with you.”

You sigh, looking down. “Are you lying to me?”

“No, no…” He steps closer; you can feel his breath on your neck. “I wouldn’t lie to you. I couldn’t. Not when I look at you and feel like I’m going to melt into a puddle on the floor.”

You let out a watery laugh, relaxing when you sense his authenticity. “I’m in love with you too,” you tell him quietly.

Eddie grins, spinning you around and capturing your lips once again. “How would you like a boyfriend who’s in a band?” he mumbles against you. “You could brag about me to all your friends, cool girl. They’d be obsessed with you.”

“I’m obsessed with me,” you reply, kissing down his neck. “I don’t need them to be. I just need you to be obsessed with me too.”

He breaks away and cups your cheek, grin widening. “You don’t need to worry about that, baby. I’ve been obsessed with you for years.” He kissed you again.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson

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faithisasuperstar · 4 months

Text

better in the dark → coral

coral!tbosas x reader

a/n → i have the feeling that my writing has been getting progressively worse (it’s getting short and sloppy + my grammar is slipping) because i’ve been trying to write so much all at once lol so i maybe just maybe will take a short break before posting anything else

notes → in which you savor some of the last moments you will have with coral before the games, even though you can hardly see her. feminine intended reader

warnings → possibly the WORST thing i’ve written (but i still want you to read it lol), sorry guys, inspo is low at the moment. very very ooc coral in my opinion. not edited & uploaded via iphone

coral’s hands brushed yours as she reached them through the bars. you allowed her to grab onto them, shivering at her icy touch. even though it was the middle of a rather hot summer, nights still grew chilly.

“we’ll meet again tomorrow morning to have a final goodbye.“ you informed her in a whine, she hummed in response. for some reason, saying it out loud hurt. but the ache in your heart seemed to waver as coral reached a hand up to cup your face, causing you to look her in the eyes for the first time tonight. you were afraid that if you made eye contact with her you wouldn’t be able to let her go, but it was too late now. mentally, you cursed yourself for how fast you got attached to people. in the two weeks that coral had been in the capitol, you were sure you had fallen in love with her. and maybe you had been looking at her through rose colored glasses, but even then, rose colored glasses had no effect in the dark night. deep down you knew you had fallen for her.

no matter how much time you spent preparing her, there was no guarantee that she would win the games. out of the other girls, sure, she was one of the strongest. but the guys were what you worried about. reaper and tanner posed a huge threat to the girl, but coral assured you that she could handle it. not to mention jessup, who was easily the biggest and strongest tribute of them all. your mind was working overtime as you brainstormed all of the different ways she could win, and the possibilities of her being killed. you were so focused that you hadn’t realized you were biting your lip, almost to the point of drawing blood. it wasn’t until coral began gliding her thumb over your knuckles that you were taken out of your trance.

“what’s wrong?” she asked you, mildly concerned.

“just… thinking about what could happen out there.” you admitted, eyes softening.

“i told you already, baby, don’t you worry about me. i’ve got it covered.” she smiled reassuringly at you, though you could hardly tell because of how dimly lit it had become now. it was almost like the moon was hiding from you. you felt as if she was far too calm for someone in her situation, it irked you. while you had been beyond anxious all day on behalf of coral, here she was, all mellow in the face of death. maybe it was just a facade on coral’s part, but you felt helpless at the fact that you didn’t know how to properly help her.

“but coral, i’m your mentor!” you reminded her, as well as yourself. bringing up your status reminded you that falling in love with a district tribute would be more than looked down upon in your society. “it’s my job to worry about you-“ you stated, but were cut off as she pulled you closer to her, pressing her lips to yours. you melted into her touch, unable to stop yourself from leaning in closer. but sadly, the kiss seemed to end as soon as it started.

“that shut you up,” she teased, smirking.

“you can’t just… you can’t just do that!” you complained in a huff, pouting.

“you won’t allow a dead woman one last kiss? you monster!” coral joked, chuckling silently.

“don’t say that either, coral. you’re not going to die.” it seemed more like a bitter attempt to convince yourself rather than coral. besides, you were supposed to be the cynical one here, not her. but then again, she had every right to feel that way. when twenty-four go in and only one comes out, it was easy to feel hopeless. who were you to dictate how she felt? you felt like a terrible, entitled person, and maybe you were. but coral seemed to look past that. you avoided her eyes once more, looking down at your shoes instead in guilt.

“i’m just joking, pretty girl.” she remarked, but her tone seemed more solemn now. your eyes wandered back to hers. silence hung in the air as a few moments passed.

“is it bad that i might love you?” the question slipped from your mouth in a single breath.

“yes,” was her grim reply. it broke your heart to hear, even if she was probably right. but that didn’t stop her from pulling you close once more, pressing her lips against yours passionately. thank goodness for the dark. if she had seen you in this moment with your nose runny, puffy, red eyes from crying so much, and cheeks flushed, you were sure you would die of embarrassment. but all your emotions seemed to flutter away when she was this close to you now. when her lips were on yours, nothing in the past, present, or future mattered, it was just coral and you.

#coral tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #thg x reader #thg fanfiction #coral tbosas x reader #coral thg #coral x reader #coral #tbosas x reader #tbosas fanfiction #coral thg x reader #Spotify

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0alanasworld0 · 1 year

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Celebrity Crush (Pablo Gavi x reader) *request

Request: Hii can u do gavi having a crush on actress reader and he reveals it after being asked abot his celeb crush in an interview :) ♡

A/N - I know that this request has been completed before but I've always wanted to write one of these and I think that my take is sufficiently different from the other writer's -> I feel justified in posting it. I hope that makes sense lol

Warnings: none

“The love of your life is gonna be there, eh!” Pedri pokes at his best friend’s shoulder, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Pablo scoffs, one tiktok post on his screen is all it took for his little crush to become the team’s hot gossip. And it’s been a month!

“Are we really still on this?” gavi groans, throwing a hand over his face in an attempt to cover the blush of embarrassment as his teammates cackle around him. The joys of being the youngest (!)

“Hey, it's completely natural to have feelings lik-”

“No no no no no I can’t deal with this today!” He grabs his bag and stomps out of the locker room, shaking his head with a huff. He would never dare admit this to his friends but my god if you weren’t the most stunning woman he had ever come across. Everything about you just oozed grace and elegance. Your voice was smooth and honeyed, striking eyes and a dazzling smile. You had an aura that just drew people towards you yet a shyness: there’s a little glimpse into how nervous the attention made you but you were still an infectiously positive influence on those around you. It certainly wouldn’t be surprising knowledge to anyone that Pablo had a little crush on you, many did. BUT the idea of you ever getting an idea of those feelings from the internet just made him cringe. He didn’t want to join a roster with those creeps. He didn’t even know you!

It was all an especially sensitive topic to him since you had mentioned being a football fanatic in a recent interview and you did express admiration for a certain La Liga goalkeeper that had him slightly disgruntled. However, when you also mentioned a certain Catalonian team as a favourite, he was shocked to say the least. You spoke very highly of them and it was becoming more and more apparent that you likely knew of him. Were you a fan? Did you just think of him as some stupid kid like everyone else? Have you ever been to one of his games and if so how did he not see you??

“So, you’re pretty new and upcoming so there's an air of mystery around you. I mean, we really don’t have anything on you! For a break-out star, it's a bit weird, don’t you think?” the host says, elbow propped up on the table with her head resting on their hand.

“Yeah, I get that but suppose I’ve been a bit of a recluse my whole life uh… I don’t know! I’m not always on social media and I haven’t really done many interviews so I guess there never really is much of an opportunity? Even with the press stuff I have done, it’s all been very much focused on the show itself so y’know…” you trail off with a bit of uncertainty, wringing your hands under the table.

“Well, I’m gonna try and change that! We’re gonna treat this kinda like a first date, just a basic get-to-know-you type scenario, you cool with that?” she asks tentatively

“Yeah that sounds pretty good!”

“Okay let's start easy uh… favourite colour?”

“I feel like the range between blue and green is pretty solid, what do you like doing outside of work?”

“I’m kind of a soccer fanatic, actually! I used to be a die-hard football fan but something about soccer just makes it feel so much more energetic y’know?” You nod in agreement, smiling at the shared interest, perking up a bit.

“I have to agree with you on that one. I used to play all the time when I was a little kid and I burned out on it as a teenager but seeing it regain that energy over recent years is something so special!”

“Exactly! I really think we’re meshing here!” you both laugh as you jokingly hold hands over the table.

“Okay okay back to the subject matter, what's your favourite league?”

“The EPL.” you say, mouth twitching as the laugh threatens to break out. The interviewer narrows her eyes and takes her hands back, cocking her head to the side. The silence only makes it harder until both of you burst out into laughter, tearing up a little bit.

“Okay no be real…” the interviewer struggles to get the words out through the giggles. You finally manage to settle down and get the words out.

“Honestly I think that La Liga has really been seeing a revival. I still love the Bundesliga and Serie A but it's been super interesting to see the quality of La Liga go up so dramatically.” The interview nods and hums in interest. She raises her eyebrow with her next question.

“Any favourite players?”

“I can’t say any names for fear of it actually reaching them but the goalkeeping last season was stellar and I think that the Zamora trophy was very well earned.” ducking your head down as a small blush appears on your face. The interviewer smirks but continues.

“Okay fine but you have to have a favourite team?”

“Within La Liga, Barcelona has been super inspiring! It was a pretty tough time losing such consistent and reliable talent especially under those circumstances where they didn’t want to leave but I would have never expected a revival like this!”

“Tell me about it, and to come from such young players too?!”

“Exactly, it’s wonderful to see them be so resourceful given their… situation and it’s clearly working so I’d say that those promotions were very wise decisions on their part!”

…..

The teasing had always been there since the team found out about it but it took an upturn after that interview. Fans were picking up on the idea given the fact that the pair of you were the same age. The edits rolled in much more quickly than what he expected: the sensual music, the mashups of his and your best moments, the illusion of the pair of you looking at each other. He doesn’t understand how they did it and he’s angry at the fact that he isn’t more offended by people imagining you as a couple. He wasn’t overjoyed by the ones of you and Pedri or a certain Moroccan goalkeeper that you referred to in the interview but nevermind. He couldn’t help but be a little curious about whether you two would be compatible. I mean it wasn’t too outlandish of an idea was it? You’re both young, struggling with fame, passionate, who knows maybe-

“Pablo, I’m begging you: get your head out of the clouds and pull it together!” his agent yells, throwing an empty water bottle in his direction.

“When are you free for a fitting?”

“... Huh?” he breathes out deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes in annoyance. The poor man just needs this one date sorted for the gala, he just wants to go home and yet here they are. All he needs is about a minute of focus.

“Okay if I have to say this one more time, I’m throwing the whole water drum at you.” the boy gulped, eyes widening at the threat, nodding vigorously as he straightened his back. Julian was a lovely guy with the patience of a saint and Pablo was grateful to have him as a publicist but he had his limits.

“Y’know that premiere Robert was going to?”

“Vaguely” Julian raises his eyebrows at that. This show has been on everyone’s lips for a good few months and to add to that, a particular name was frequently attached that would have been very familiar. Nonetheless, he chooses not to press. He just wants to get this all over and done with.

“Right well, some idiot insisted that he needed to do some promotional stuff instead so you’re going… well if you can actually cooperate and help me sort out a fitting date, that is.” he says, eyes narrowed at Gavi. Sighing out when he realises that the message has finally been received.

“Wait wait wait, why can’t pedri go?!” Julian decides that he will, in fact, push.

“Okay, I just told you that you’re going to be able to attend a premiere for the film that the love of your life is leading and you’re asking me why someone else can’t go?” Gavi looks down and plays with his fingers. Julian shakes his head, let's get this over with.

“No, magically no one else is available. Let’s get this fitting done at 10:00pm tomorrow, yeah?” any chances of being flexible are long gone, his patience running very thin. Julian hurries out of the room, holding his hand out to prevent Pablo from saying anything that would prolong the conversation.

“You do realise that this girl literally has no reason to dislike you, right?” Pedri says, looking up from his phone to see Gavi messing around with his tie and rolling his eyes.

“Apart from the fact that I’m largely advertised as a player with a giant ego and no anger management skills?” Gavi huffs. Sure, your comments on the team were largely positive but you had to have seen some of the famous outbursts.

“Hermano, I can assure you that the way that you play completely overshadows the angry chihuahua behaviour. If she can’t see that, then she’s not worth your time.” he shrugs. Oh if only it were as simple as that. Pedri may have been right but the fact of the matter was that he wanted you to like him. You were ethereal and the idea of you not liking him made his chest tighten.

“See! This is what I mean! I doubt she’d have any interest in an ��angry chihuahua’” Gavi turns around to face his best friend, aggressively air quoting.

“C’mon man, I was only joking.” Pedri gets up to give him a reassuring hug. He can sense that his friend is still extremely nervous so he releases the hug before continuing.

“Look, she seems nice enough and she likes the team. The most you have to worry about is the great wall of Morocco sweeping her off her feet before you.” patting his cheek with a smile. Gavi looks away and huffs again but is unable to hold back the smile. Okay, that was funny. He’d never admit that, though. Thank goodness, he’s married.

“Oy, apparently that Gavi kid is gonna be there!” your ears perk up at your friend’s comment. ‘That Gavi kid’ was a phenomenal footballer and very quickly caught your attention the first time you saw him play live. The guys you’re constantly having to deal with are all the same type with very little motivation or ability to do the simplest of things. The fact that there was someone around your age having the talent, motivation and passion to play for (and help resurrect) one of the most iconic teams in the world as well as his national team was so incredibly attractive to you. His doe-eyes and fluffy, chocolate brown hair definitely helped him out in the looks area as well.

“He seems like a sweet guy, I happen to think we’d get along quite well actually!” your cheeks heat up as a shy smile makes its way onto your face.

“Oh there's no doubt about that! Being swept off your feet by Barca’s golden boy is very on-brand for you! And have you SEEN those edits, wow!” She fans herself jokingly as you throw a pillow at her head.

“Okay that's enough of that. Now I beg you just choose between one of these!” you’re holding up the two dresses you spent ages narrowing down to.

“Girl, you’re going to be the star of the show, those edits will be up and out regardless of whether your dress is cerulean blue or midnight blue.” you roll your eyes as you eye the 2 dresses once more.

“What has gotten into you? You usually have this stuff picked out weeks in advance!”

“I don’t know, just having some doubts is all.”

“Look, I promise that your lover boy is going to be blown away with either of these.”

The taxi ride feels like forever. He’s redone his tie more times than he could count. He’s been keeping a close eye on every rumoured attendee’s social media to try and up his morale but finally, they make it to the venue. It’s all glammed up with lights lining up the red carpet. It leads to the doors which are strictly guarded by 2 burly men in all black. The odd nightclub visit may have felt normal to the poor boy but not this. It's a little too much and just as he thought he had calmed down, the nerves make their unwelcome return and his hands are sweating again.

The second he opens the taxi door, the cameras start flashing and people start yelling his name. Gavi takes the time to thank his driver, passing over a generous tip before slowly exiting. Why do they have to be like this? Why do I have to be like this? He asks himself. The suit that he had made to his form by the finest tailors just days prior suddenly felt too tight. It was some of the most expensive material yet it now felt scratchy and coarse against his skin. It was all suffocating: the noise, the lights, the smell; everything. He rushes down the carpet with his head down, ignoring the requests to smile for the camera. The words were barely intelligible anyway.

The temporarily converted mall is still extremely busy and loud but the lack of paparazzi and yelling was a change he felt very grateful for. The noise is more energetic chatter and less ear-shattering screeches as the walk-in was. He sighs in relief when he sees a familiar face.

“Ah, Gavira! You made i- what’s wrong?” his teasing smile turns into a look of concern.

“What?! Nothing! Why would you ask that?” he’s rambling, still rattled from the entrance.

“Oh hermano you look like you’re about to cry!” Julian gives him a hug which Pablo gladly accepts. It’s just a lot. He has nothing to ground him or divert his attention like the pitch does. There is probably a reason why Robert is usually the one to go to events like this.

“Look, I know that the entrance was a bit much but I promise you, that was the hard part. Now it's just gonna be a couple interviews, some less chaotic photos, try to talk to some of the actors here… you’ll have fun, okay?” Gavi nods with a semi-enthusiastic smile on his face, it probably looked more like a grimace but nevertheless.

It’s been a big improvement from the first impression and Gavi is enjoying himself. He didn’t have very many photos taken at all and it’s been a relief to see footballers other than himself dotted around. Talking to them, among some of the actors, has given him some reprieve. It isn’t so bad after all.

The first interview isn’t too much of a hassle for him either. He’s used to much less friendly people than this.

“So, it must be pretty crazy to receive such high praise from such a highly coveted actress, huh?”

“I mean, yeah! She didn’t refer to me directly but it’s awesome anyway. I’m glad our team is still inspiring so many people and that SOMEONE understands the approach Xavi is taking!” he manages to get a little chuckle out of the man which releases some tension. He continues.

“No seriously, she’s an insanely beautiful and talented person so it really is an honour to hear it from someone of her calibre.” gavi says with a wistful smile on his face, cheeks heating up at the mere thought of you being aware of his existence. The interviewer smirks but keeps things rolling, that footage was going to be golden.

“On a more personal note, thank you for what you’re doing for Barca and the national team. Absolutely phenomenal coming from someone so young and I can’t begin to describe how excited I am to see how things work out for you in the future.” Well that's very different from what he’s used to hearing from older fans. It warms his heart.

“Thanks man, that seriously means so much to hear!” They give each other a bear hug before he walks off, relaxed and confident. But the second he turns around, it all dissipates. There you are, in all your glory. You’re not even doing anything intentionally model-esque, simply looking down and readjusting your dress as you wait for the journalists and camera crew in front of you to have everything set up. It's a moment he feels guilty for intruding on but you smooth down your dress, smiling as you twirl around in it. He’s mesmerised within seconds of seeing you in person, the photos don’t do you justice. At all.

He can’t hear what you’re saying and doesn’t dare get any closer but the second you start speaking you have everyone’s attention. He can tell whenever someone is complimenting you as your hands move to cover your cheeks as they heat up. He wonders how you feel about the small crowd gathering around you. Did you ever get as nervous as he did? Was this stressful for you too? He’s brought out of his thoughts as the crowd laughs quietly at a comment you made. Oh and she’s funny too? Of course she is!

Much to his disappointment, Julian is dragging him off to another interview before he could even muster up the courage to go and talk to you, with the crowd beginning to disperse. He stills looks back at you, heart pounding as you make eye contact. He sees you offering a little wave before he loses you among the people. Your smile was breath-taking but smiling directly at him was a whole different story. The rest of the interviews couldn’t last any longer, or at least he felt that way. He just wanted to see you again now, nothing else was on his mind.

That idea was a lot harder in practice, he learned. You’re right there, swirling your sprite can at the drinks bar, looking up and around every now and then. He’s been dawdling for about ten minutes now, “figuring out what to say.” He looks up every once in a while, you’re playing with your dress again and you still look just as mesmerising. Julian has had enough of the situation, pushing Pablo towards you and walking off before the boy could try to hide behind him.

“Oh my gosh, hi! It’s Pablo, right?” good lord you’re somehow even more gorgeous up close and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Have you seen that interview? They posted that one clip very quickly and he’s extremely anxious at the idea of you being spammed with the clip. It’s a shame he hadn’t been paying attention to the posts other than his interview clip. Or listened when he saw you being interviewed.

“That's me!” he says, laughing nervously.

“I’ve honestly been wanting to meet you for so long!” you say with a bright smile on your face, bouncing up and down on your toes with excitement. You can’t resist giving him a hug and he thinks his heart is going to burst out of his chest any time soon. You smell absolutely divine and he’s trying to commit the whole moment to memory. You take his hand and pull him to an area behind all of the giant posters where things are a little quieter.

“I could say the same about you, I mean you’re just…wow!” He’s properly kicking himself. One chance to look cool in front of you and he’s fucked it up.

You’re so caught up in the excitement of talking with Pablo Gavi that you forget the fact that you elicit the very same feelings in him.

“No, seriously you’re incredible! I usually find defensive tactics more interesting but you are absolutely explosive in midfield! I haven’t seen anyone play quite like that for ages!” you gush. Pablo couldn’t be more grateful that everyone forced him to come here. You liked him! You liked him!

“It's honestly just what I love doing, I suppose the passion builds into the output…” he trails off as you nod enthusiastically, giving him a reassuring smile and eagerly waiting for him to continue. You don’t like eye contact very much but his hazel eyes are truly gorgeous and you can’t bring yourself to look away.

“Hey, enough about me, this is a big day for you! You’re finally getting the recognition you deserve!” he says, gaining a bit of his confidence back and nudging you lightly. You can feel your cheeks heat up.

“Eh, the me-fest was fun online but holy shit am I tired of it after this!” you laugh together and simultaneously realise that you’re still holding onto each other's hands. It just feels too right to let go.

“Do you hate the noise as much as I do?” you whisper in his ear. He feels a chill run down his spine from your warm breath and goosebumps form immediately. He nods softly, confused and suspicious of the mischievous look in your eyes.

“What’s on your mind, bonita?” he narrows his eyes, squeezing your hands lightly, waiting for you to elaborate.

“There’s a park literally 2 minutes away from here! if we manage to make an escape, we can get away from all the noise, look up at the stars…” you trail off, waiting for his response. He seems to have a permanent smile etched on his face with you but it widens with your idea. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and you begin to weave in and out of the crowd which has begun to disperse a little already.

The pair of you make it out unscathed, giggling to each other as you look back to make sure you haven’t been caught. He keeps his arm where it is, again it just feels too right. You reach one of the park benches and decide to take your seats. The dim glow of the street lamp above you illuminates your features and he can’t help but stare. Your eyes are focused on the stars, you’re holding out your hand to map out the stars you were familiar with. Your other hand is gripping the bench and he inches his own closer and closer but he has an idea of his own. He doesn’t know how but he’s thankful that his confidence resurfaces once more as he stands up, holding a hand out to you. Your focus returns to him and you cock your head to the side in confusion.

“Dance with me” the idea makes you all giddy inside but you can’t help but tease

“Without music?” He sighs in faux-annoyance as he opens his phone to play a soft tune, propping it up on the blazer he opts to take off. He’s a sight for sore eyes in the crisp, white button-up. He offers his hand to you again but you oblige this time. You squeal slightly as he unexpectedly pulls you towards his body, instinctively placing a hand on his chest while his free hand finds a place on the small of your back. His hazel eyes are so much prettier up close. He simply can’t believe that this is happening. You both fall into a rhythm together as you move to the soft melody.

“I’m a genius.”

“Of many things” he says with a wistful sigh, smiling softly.

The butterflies in your tummy grow more and more restless as your faces grow closer together. You can feel his warm breath on your face and you can see the little scars that adorn his face. The hand that rested on his chest slides up towards his face to cup his cheek and his eyes flutter to a close for a second as he relishes the warmth. You’re both breathing heavier, almost panting, even though nothing has happened yet. Your eyes are frantically flickering over each other's features, desperately trying to commit even the most minute detail to memory. Your gaze lingers on his pretty pink lips for a second too long and like that: you’re the first to give in. you pull him towards you, finally capturing his lips in a soft kiss. He tenses for a moment, mind completely blanking as he attempts to process what is happening. Just as quickly, he relaxes and pulls you even closer to him, if that were even possible. The taste of your watermelon flavoured lip gloss was borderline addictive and the softness of his lips had you feeling dizzy. You part slowly and reluctantly for breath, your hands stay in each other's hair as you stare into each other’s eyes.

“Promise you’ll call?” you say as the taxi pulls up at your place. You really have no idea just how infatuated he was with you.

“I swear on my life, bonita. I’ll call the second I get home!” he smiles, pulling you in for the final kiss of the night before you open the car door and leave. Before entering your place, you turn around to give him a wave, smiling widely as he waves back. You kick off your heels and flop onto the couch, a wide smile plastered on your face as you recall the events of the night: he, Pablo Gavi, really liked you.

Pablo tries to close the door quietly behind him, finally returning home after going rogue at the premier with you. The lamp in the corner of the living room flickers on, spooking him as he sees Pedri sitting there, wide awake and waiting.

“Look, I know I should have called about where I was but I swear I know how to handle myself I just-”

“Yeah yeah whatever, I couldn’t care less about that Gavira. You owe me something.” Pablo is stumped, his tired mind can’t wrap around what his friend is trying to get at.

“An apology? I was trying before I got rudely interru-” Pedri turns the laptop around so the screen is facing his best friend.

Oh god no, this was all much quicker than anticipated. No words can be heard and the camera quality is rather shaky but the faces are obviously you and him. The camera has captured the moment where you drag him to behind the posters to talk privately, your hands resting in his, and they capture the pair of you walking off back into the crowd together in the middle of the escape.

Pedri gets up, places the laptop on the table and goes to ruffle Pablo’s hair and then shakes him by the shoulders.

“I told you she was into you! I told you! You’re such an idiot I swear!” Gavi rolls his eyes, mouth twitching as he tries to hold off a smile. He doesn’t want to reveal all the details yet but it was a magical night, to say the least.

“C’mon you have to tell me something!” Gavi looks down as a blush dusts his cheeks.

“She said she wants to see me again,” he says, stretching the back of his neck. Pedri wraps him in a tight hug.

“I’m always right, see?”

“Whatever!” Gavi retorts with a smile, jogging up to his room. He’s itching to call you. Pedri lets him go in peace, oh he’s going to be relentlessly teasing the poor man in the morning.

Once Pablo reaches his room, he quickly unbuttons the shirt, throwing it to the side before falling onto the bed, sighing in relief as the cool and crisp sheets felt like heaven against his burning hot skin. The effect you had on him clearly hasn’t worn off just yet. He opens his phone and immediately goes to call you. A smile immediately makes its way onto his face as he hears your voice.

“Did you make it home safely?”

“As per instruction, bonita.” he thinks he can hear your smile over the line. Oh this was the start of something beautiful.

I’m sorry this has taken so long, lovelies. I have a lot on my plate and have been feeling a little demotivated but I've been feeling a lot better recently so hopefully I can start posting more often again! I hope you enjoy this one xxx

#pablo gavi #gavi #gavi imagine #gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #footballer fic #footballer imagine

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plasticflwrs · 3 months

Text

⠀⠀ ⠀┈─ NOTHING NEW ⠀⠀／ ⠀⠀ an oliver song story ( 2022 ).

RACH. I wrote it when I was 19, and I've written a lot of other things since, and it's just... what if... what if that was the one... what if that was the one, best thing I'll ever do and I spend the rest of my life just getting worse and worse and drying up, uninspired, and I never become great. — The Prelude by Dave Malloy.

WORD COUNT. 3.2k words. WARNINGS / NOTES. Discussions of mental health symptoms related to general anxiety and major depressive episodes. (Passive) suicidal ideation. Alcohol mention. Originally published in 2023, but now featuring small changes of names and timeline ( rip minghui 😔 ).

“GOOD TO SEE YOU, OLIVER,” Yeonghui smiles as she lets Oliver into her office. “You never answered my text messages. I was worried about you.”

Oliver knows what Yeonghui is doing.

She’s been worried about Oliver more recently as the bags under his eyes become more prominent and the schedule is more focused on going out with friends than actually writing their next album. This impromptu therapy session was not going to solve any of their current problems and he had other events to attend. Drinks with Rowan, Jiyeon, and old friends. A phone call with his mother. A real therapy appointment.

Oliver is a busy person and finding a break in their hectic schedule was almost impossible. If the opportunity presented itself, he was going to take it. In reality, he never fully disconnected from his idol life. Always created new voice memos for new music, hid behind a mask so he wasn’t recognized, and appeared on the social media of his closest friends to get the band’s name out there. He liked to create a separation between his personal and professional life but the lines had blurred at the end of 2020.

He doesn’t understand why this is such a big deal.

He had written some of their discography before this album and the rest had been solely written by Salem before that. Yes, they had been missing for sixteen months, but, he was not the only member able to write music. Since he had returned from the states a few months ago, these meetings to discuss "music" (read: his personal life) had become more often. She was more open about her demands for a new album and Oliver was growing tired of it. He knew Salem had enough drafts to cover them for a few years at minimum, Jiyeon had showed him a few things, and even Junyeong of all people brought up a new drum line during their last practice.

Why was Yeonghui not calling them every day? He never understood her actions.

Oliver gives her a smile, the same that fans gushed about on Twitter and he had perfected over the years before speaking, “I’m fine. You know I’m allergic to my cellphone. I never answer anyone.”

“I’ve known you for almost seven years so I’m allowed to worry,” Yeonghui replies, keeping her voice even and her smile is tight-lipped, a sign of annoyance. She’s known amongst the artists for her quick temper. “Everybody is worried about you.”

“Everybody?” he questions. Oliver knows for certain that some people could care less about his health right now.

“Yes, everybody that’s important, which is your managers and myself. You know we have a comeback scheduled for the end of his quarter and I needed to know how that was going. There’s a lot riding on this, as you know.”

Oliver leans back in the armchair and crosses his arms, defensively. “Have you asked Salem or JIyeon yet? They seemed… excited to run a project.”

She shakes her head and says, “we don’t want that. Plastic Flowers has been out of the public eye for ten months, so we need to retain any relevance from Teeth last year and that will only come from you."

“What if I don’t want to?” Oliver challenges and both of them are surprised by his attempts at talking back.

“We can’t force you, of course,” Yeonghui says, leaning closer to Oliver. “But, I can cancel this album and make sure it looks like your fault. Junyeong and Salem are already upset, Jiyeon just sent us a lovely demo to compliment what you’ve already written, and Deurim's growing restless without any work. It would be very easy to recreate that outrage. Your choice, Oliver.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, remaining in that defensive position as she meets his stare directly. Oliver has always had an interesting relationship with his CEO and has never gone directly against her in their seven years of working together. He is a people pleaser at heart and at this moment, he wants to continue the fight against her but also knows that Yeonghui isn’t one to bluff. Sure, she’s prone to exaggerations to get her way nonetheless, she would find a way to twist these events in her favor and they both know that.

“Fine. I’ll send you some files later tonight.”

“Great. Why don’t we find some inspiration right now though? We have big plans for the promotion of this album,” she smiles, satisfied with winning the conversation, and opens her notebook to keep track. “So, how have your days been?”

First, he wakes up at eleven-forty-five.

He pulls himself out of his bed and reluctantly puts on a new pair of clothes, brushing his hair of any knots before entering the living room. Salem gives him an annoyed look as she clears off the table from that morning’s breakfast. Junyeong is in the shower after his daily workout. Deurim doesn’t pay him any attention, she’s too focused on trying to learn all their old music from Minghui's poorly taken notes. Jiyeon is drinking her coffee and reading some book, pretending she doesn’t see him, but Oliver can see her eyes flicker around the room. She looks from the corner of her eyes to watch his every move like he was going to do something stupid if she didn’t.

Oliver can’t find it in himself to care.

He wishes Jiyeon a good morning, the smile and light excitement in his voice not reaching any other part of his face. He’s never been that good of an actor. Jiyeon smiles back, small, and thanks him before returning to her book, leaving them in silence as the microwave hums. He wishes he could be better for her and provide their relationship with something indispensable. Instead, their days were spent inside his shared bedroom with Minghui and recounting the one-sided disagreements between the oldest members and Oliver in their debriefs. It was all they discussed recently and he wanted to bury those feelings of resentment. There was nothing Oliver could do to change their minds and he was not going to make the first move to repair their relationship. Salem had said enough during their last practice session.

( She had gone on and on and on about how boring his latest composition was. It played too much into the tropes of the last two albums and whatever he released on Soundcloud. The fans were going to get bored and he could not handle their criticism as she could. The last single she had written performed at the same level as they did in 2019, right after his Superband appearance. It was Oliver that had given them popularity in the first place and she hated that.

“Have you written anything yet?” he asks, not hiding his annoyance. That shuts her up and they return to working in silence, the only sounds coming from his pen scratching against paper and her acoustic guitar. He sighs and almost apologizes. Almost. )

Jiyeon is good friends to have, despite the lulls in their conversations these days. He knows it's his fault for that too. She provided feedback on his latest demos, offered to plan a celebration for his return to South Korea, and gave him enough time to melt into his bed after long meetings. She never rushed Oliver into hanging out and understood that he needed some time to himself. He needs to step up and be there for her. Invite her out or something, stop locking himself in his room. She deserved better friends than Oliver.

“Are you nervous about tonight?” Jiyeon asks, testing the waters of that day.

“Not really, um—” Oliver begins to answer as his phone rings in his pocket. Another missed call from his mother. The third of that day. He gives Jiyeon an apologetic look before slipping back into his bedroom to answer. “I’ll be right back.” She just nods and goes back to her book.

“Hi mom,” he tries to sound happier and it almost works. “How are you? Isn’t it like close to midnight back home?”

His mother, despite the time difference, is ecstatic to hear from him. “Oh, Oliver,” she gushes. “I’ve missed you so much. I couldn’t sleep and wanted to see if you would pick up.”

Kathleen Suh is a wonderful mother and person, easily one of Oliver’s favorites. Until his step-father taught Oliver how to play the piano, he wanted to emulate her. He wanted to attend Harvard University, he wanted to study history, he wanted to have a family of his own, and he wanted to be happy. His mother accepted the idea of his debut easily, wishing him nothing but the best for those years of training. She would send him money for food, new sneakers, and anything that the company needed. Oliver was forced to just take it since she would not take no for an answer. Now, he does the same and plus some extra gifts for his family. Two weeks ago, his checking account showed a small dip as he provided Harry, his younger brother, with a new Macbook for his final years of high school.

She’s happy to hear from Oliver, unsurprisingly. It's been two full months since they’ve last spoken and Oliver covers it with an excuse about being busy with writing for their new album. She accepts it and they move on to a conversation about his siblings with Ivy’s recent engagement still being the talk of the town and Harry’s already joined the poetry club, making friends already. He’s glad to hear that they are happy and healthy. Maybe he should call them this weekend… Did they even want to hear from him, though? Oliver wasn’t sure. It had been months since he initiated contact and would not blame his siblings for ignoring his future attempts to reach out.

The call continues like this for almost an hour. They go through the important details that Oliver would have missed from the stateside and Oliver give her any information about Plastic Flowers. Its a nice change of pace compared to the rest of the week, which was spent dreadfully alone. Oliver is an introvert at heart, but having these catch up calls with his mother wasn’t the same as meeting friends. They could never drain him.

However, the tone changes for the worst.

“You know I’m proud of you, right?” she asks and any good feeling leaves his body at that moment.

Oliver hates when she does this to him and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. He gets it, really. Not hearing from their children would get anyone in a sentimental mood but Oliver hated discussing his current feelings with anyone and did not want to worry his mother. After a few moments, he answers, “I’m fine, mom. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ve just been busy preparing for this album,” A pause in the conversation. Neither of them speaks so Oliver ends the conversation there. “It’s late in Boston so I’m going to hang up now. I love you.”

Before he ends their call, his mother bids him goodbye and tells him that she loves him too. A hand goes through his dark brown hair, recently fixed from the bleaching sessions of the year prior, and he sighs loudly, flopping onto his mattress. Oliver, for the thousandth time within two hours of being awake, wishes that he was a better person and most importantly, a better son. If he didn’t feel like this, his mother would not have to worry about him and life would be easier for everyone.

Without him…

Nevermind.

Jiyeon don’t want him thinking like that anymore. ‘It’s not good for the band,’ Jiyeon had said a few months ago, sitting on the balcony with three bottles of white wine between them. They always ended up back there, like in the old days, where they felt on top of the world and like nothing could truly hurt them. The days before he realized the band’s relationship breaking down in front of him and along with the divide between his personal and public life. It has always been the three of them against the world with Salem and Junyeong drifting in and out, depending on their feelings toward the youngest members at the time.

He still remembers the celebrations that came with their first single to enter the top ten in the music charts. At the moment, it felt like things were changing for the better. Less glaring and more attempts at working together, the creation of 403 a few months later, and securing their first win.

It was going well… until it wasn’t.

And the world would turn without Oliver Song for a comeback. He was sure of it. It might not reach the same success as Salem indulged in a more niche audience and the general public was not her biggest fan these days, but that was okay with him. It was the company's problem and they would have to work hard to rectify that. If Yeonghui could turn the world against him, she could definitely change the public opinion of Salem in a matter of a few weeks. At the same time, the band might not survive without the input of Oliver as the public’s favorite member and the lead vocalist of Plastic Flowers. While Oliver could take himself from the equation, with the fanbase also divided between favorite members, showing a weakened lineup could spell disaster. Rumors would circulate and the world would stop turning and Oliver would be lost forever, with—

“Oliver? Are you okay? You’ve been in here for, like, three hours,” Deurim's voice interrupts his spiraling and she’s standing just outside of the doorframe with an odd look on her face.

Glancing down at his phone, Oliver could have sworn it was only two in the afternoon last time he had checked and now it was nearing four, closer to the end of the day than the beginning and yet another day lost to his downward spiral. This had been happening a lot more lately, with days blending into nights and the inability to be in the moment. He was always stuck between the past and the future, there was no time to worry about the present and he could not stop moving even for a moment. There was always something to do, even if that was nothing in reality.

“God fucking—” Oliver swears as he sits up, all the blood rushing to his head, and goes to his closet. “I should have set an alarm. I’m going to be so late.”

Deurim watches as he stumbles around the room, pulling a sweater and a new pair of socks from his bedside table. “Late for what?” she asks.

“I have a meeting with Yeonghui in a few minutes. She’s having one of her moments about a new record, I just need to appease her for now. I’ll still make dinner later.”

“Are you sure you’re well enough to go? You look like shit, Oliver,” Deurim remarks.

“What are you talking about?” It's at that exact moment that Oliver gets a closer look at himself in the mirror and pauses for a moment. “Oh. Well, that’s nothing a bit of makeup can’t fix. I’ll just put it on in the car, no big deal,” Oliver’s voice is quicker than normal as the nerves start to get too much and he offers his roommate what should be a smile. Things are suddenly moving miles per minute. “Reservation is for seven, right? I can meet you guys at the restaurant if she runs over time, I’ll keep you and Jiyeon updated, yeah?”

Oliver is not doing well and someone else had noticed. So much for not making anyone worry anymore.

Anyone could see that from miles away. He hasn’t only lost weight over the last few months, but the dark circles have grown, and much more affect his naturally bright appearance. Before this moment, he never had the chance to truly look at himself in the mirror but it seems that the reaction of not only Deurim but the small gasps from the makeup artists was warranted. Oliver isn’t sure when it all got this bad, but, he can fix it, no problem. Starting that night he would change his life for the better. More meals, a peaceful rest, and spending time with Jiyeon was first on the list. That would help him feel better. (Hopefully).

Deurim nods, still looking uncomfortable. They both know stopping Oliver from going to this meeting would be near impossible, he hated missing tasks. “Sounds like a plan. Good luck with the meeting.”

In a few minutes, he is not only ready for the meeting but his plans for after. Their manager knocks on the door and Oliver and escorted to the Superbloom Media headquarters, just ten minutes down the road. The ride is quiet save for the soft lull of whatever song was currently going viral in South Korea and his manager taps the steering wheel to the beat to save them from complete silence. Oliver is thankful that he doesn’t ask many questions and just goes along with whatever the members were feeling to keep his job. At some points, Oliver thinks that the manager is looking at him before remembering that checking your mirrors is always an important safety measure, especially as he turns street corners.

They park in the artists-only lot, the third floor of the private parking garage and he is left to his own devices. The manager has to pick up something else for the members, something that Salem requested from the shop down the street and he wishes Oliver good luck. They both know that he would need it.

That was Oliver’s day.

That had been Oliver’s day for the last three months and it seems like nothing will change.

The only changes come from whatever plans are happening at the same time, guided through the motions by either his bandmates or manager. Nothing ever seemed to change and after a while, it all blended together. Yeonghui isn’t satisfied with his answer and she stopped writing a few minutes into his attempts at recounting his day.

“And, how long have you been like this?”

“Three months.”

She is silent for a moment. “That’s a long time.”

“I know.”

“What happened three months ago?” she asks, trying to get more information out of him.

Oliver shrugs. “I’m not sure.”

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look-at-the-soul · 1 year

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Someone like you

Tommy Shelby one shot

Master list

I wrote this for @zablife 1K followers celebration congratulations dear Lee, for this accomplishment, each one of the beautiful pieces of art you write are incredible, there’s always a surprise you add that makes each story take an unexpected turn 🥰 so this is a bit darker than my usual writing in honor of the amazing twists you usually have in your stories💖

Also there was a post Lily made a while ago that I thought fit so well about Tommy and his relationship with his mother, but I couldn’t find it anymore… @springsteens

⚠️ Grief, reincarnation theme. Minors DNI.

I’ve always loved the idea of Tommy and his mum, there were a lot of things unsaid between them, he missed her a lot and called her during difficult times during the series.

Prompt: 14.) “Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.”

Another sleepless night outside wasn’t something new for him. He had been going on like this for 157 nights since his wife passed away. But this time instead of staying by the fire, he started wandering further. With his mind full of the things that usually kept him busy, he didn’t even notice how far he had been riding until he reached the river. The sun was about to go up, so he decided to give his horse a break and let him rest for a while. Midnight was probably the only one who could understand his loneliness, horses aren’t so different to humans, their feelings are right there, you can see it in their eyes, so transparent.

As he was about to lit a cigarette, his eyes focused on something moving by the river, a figure he couldn’t place from the distance and the lack of light. Pulling out his gun, Tommy moved back the lock, ready to fire at any second, moving without making a sound like he learned the hard way back in France, all of his senses on alert.

Now that he was closer, he was able to see the delicate female figure before him, naked. His eyes roamed all over her body as she was cleaning her legs, gold bracelets moving up and down her left wrist as she moved her hands. Her ass sticking out in her bending position, he couldn't really see much, but his mouth went dry as he removed his peak cap from his head.

The woman then walked to the horse resting next to a tree, closer to him, he totally forgot to try to hide behind the bushes, he was completely drown to her, as if she had put a spell on him.

The horse covering her now, as the stranger flicked her dark locks back and it happened in a slow motion for him, as her curls bounced back away from her features, and he was able to see her face, he felt his blood running down from his body, dizziness swept over him.

It was as if he was watching his mother all over again; green wild eyes flashing at him, thick lashes, full lips, sharp cheekbones and a smile that had the power to have you on your fucking knees in a matter of seconds.

She wasn’t bothered at all by the fact that he had been watching her taking a bath in the river.

But the view didn’t last long, as she climbed on her white horse, still naked and started riding bareback away, in the distance, Tommy saw her covering her naked form as the horse slowed down, he was lost in thoughts but he could swear he also saw the woman looking over her shoulder back at him.

That morning he returned home with more than just his wife’s ghost in mind.

***

He knew most of the gypsies around, but he had never seen that woman.

The rest of the day, he couldn’t get her off his mind, her eyes were hunting him, every time he closed his eyes, he could see her again washing her body, her hands running up and down her legs.

“Johnny! Get the wagon ready.”

“Where are we up to, Tom?” Johnny asked, hands in hips and an insufferable smile on his face. “Eh?”

“Doesn’t matter Johnny.”

Maybe it was the opium, or the loneliness, he didn’t know anymore.

“Tommy you can’t keep going on like this.” Polly walked in as she heard the instructions her nephew just gave Johnny Dogs.

Hands lessening against his desk, head hanging down. If he was this quiet, then something must be wrong, she thought.

“I saw her... Pol.”

As Tommy looked at his aunt, she wasn’t able to name what she found in his eyes. Was it hurt? Pain? Regret?

“You need to let Grace rest in pea-”

“No, not Grace.” Tommy interrupter her, trying to put it into words. “I saw my Mum, but it wasn’t her.” It didn’t make sense now that he said it out loud.

A shiver ran down her spine, there was no reason for Tommy to lie about something like that. A gasp escaped her lips, and her right hand flew to the black Madonna around her neck.

Martha was back because she left a lot of things unfinished, she wouldn’t be able to rest until she was done, her spirit needed to come back in order to complete her purpose, she needed to pay for taking her own life at the canal all those years ago.

“She found you.” Was all she could come up with.

Tommy swallowed hard, he had a lot of things going on, things he couldn't put into words. Emotions right at the surface. Feelings he didn’t know how to deal with.

Then he remembered the old saying his mum used to say with the new season.

“Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.” He murmured, closing his eyes.

Polly knew how Tommy’s mind worked, sometimes it was almost as if they were one mind divided in two bodies, sometimes they didn’t even need to say the words to know what the other one was thinking. This, was one of those moments.

“The caravan is ready, Tom.” Johnny informed him.

Without another word, he followed Johnny outside, still feeling uneasy of the physical resemblance between that woman and his mother.

Johnny asked a million questions, questions to which Tommy had no answers, luckily after a while, he decided to keep riding the caravan in silence.

What if his mother found a way back to him?

During the night, it was Tommy in charge of the riding, from the spot they were in the mountain, he could already see the gypsy camp.

But it was empty, only a couple of dogs and horses around the wagons.

“What happened?” Tommy’s eyes scanning the place, looking for a sign of where she might be.

“They’re at the fair.”

Tommy almost broke his neck from the hard snap he did to look at Johnny, his eyes close of popping out.

“Why did you wait until now to fucking tell me that?”

“Because you never asked me, Tom... how was supposed to know?”

Rolling his eyes and mentally counting to ten, he tried not to lose his temper; “just take me to the fucking fair.”

The daylight would be gone soon, in the distance, he could hear the noise coming from the fair, the coloured tents held the tradition carried by generation of gypsies, it had been years since he went to one.

Flags and ribbons with eye catching colors hang from one place to another, some gypsies offered food, live music, magic tricks, jewelry, handmade carpets, telling fortunes, reading hands, among other things.

“What are you looking for Tom?” Johnny asked, always impatient, always curious.

“Something, you wouldn’t understand.” He could feel his stomach in a tight knot.

“Yeah, of course... that’s nice, if you could share a bit more of this someth-”

Taking some money from his pocket, he handed it to Johnny. “Get a whore and stop bothering me.” Finally, he was quiet, allowing Tommy to move around.

He found some familiar faces, but not the only one he was looking for.

“Can I read your hand?” Offered a gypsy he was passing by.

“Another time.” He winked at her, his guard on alert as he saw her eyes moving close to his arm.

Turning his head around, he moved his arm quickly, just in time to catch the thief.

“Give my watch back, or you don’t get to see the stars tonight.”

But as the thief tried to break free from his hand, he found the face he was looking for.

Eyes locked in hers, finding a bit of himself in those deep emeralds green enough to make anyone jealous.

His mind went blank, unable to form any coherent thought.

“Leave the girl alone.” A firm voice called behind him, then a crooked hand put a tight grip on his arm.

Turning around, Tommy found Madame Boswell.

“She stole my watch.”

The gypsy took a deep breath, but kept her eyes on him. She only said things once.

“Please forgive me Madame.” The girl looked down, embarrassed.

Tommy helped her up, his hand on hers in a very gently touch.

“A gypsy never steals from a gypsy.” Madame Boswell shook her head.

The girl looked surprised at the man who was still holding her arm.

“I grew up in a caravan too.” Tommy explained in a kind voice.

Her eyes were fixed on his gold tooth.

“Can we have a word, please?”

Madame Boswell nodded and motioned Tommy to follow her.

A small hand offered his pocket watch back.

“Keep it love, if you ever get in trouble, just say the name on the back.”

Thick eyelashes hid her beautiful eyes as she turned the gold watch around. Tommy was fighting back the urge to hug her.

“Is she under your protection?”

“Why do you ask?” Madame Boswell studied him.

Tommy answered with another question. “Who is she?”

“Y/N appeared walking down the rainfall, where the river starts, she couldn’t remember her name or where she came from. She’s one of us now.”

Tommy’s breath got caught up in his throat, his chest with a strange tightening.

“Allow me to take care of her, I can give her things she will never have here.”

“No.” Madame Boswell’s lips were sealed in a tight line.

He knew what moved the woman.

“Let me protect her.” He pleaded again, placing in front of the gypsy a velvet sack filled with gold coins this time.

Her eyes finally sparkled, the hint of a smile showing up.

“She’s a wild thing you wouldn’t understand.”

“I will manage.” Tommy nodded his head and stepped out of the caravan.

Madame Boswell explained to Y/N that the Shelby family would take care of her from now, but she could still visit the vardo any time she wanted. She was wearing a beautiful dress in earth tones with embroidered flowers and beads.

Tommy waited a couple of steps away with his hands in his pockets, questioning himself if this was the right thing to do or not. But as he saw the girl running towards him, he couldn’t manage the way his heart started beating like a galloping horse.

When she wrapped her arms around him, he couldn’t even begin to understand the familiarity in her embrace, the way her body could fit his so well, the warmth he had been missing for so long.

“Mi-e dor de tine.” He couldn’t help himself or stop the words before they left his mouth. He truly missed her, every day of his life.

With a smile, she caressed his face just like his mother did when he was just a kid and then walked towards the white horse.

“Angel.” She added caressing the animal’s neck in a sweet voice while Tommy froze.

“What did you say?”

“His name is Angel.” The horse started to neigh. But before Tommy could say anything, Johnny Dogs started to curse behind him.

“How-?”

“Take the horse and be quiet.” Tommy warned him raising his eyebrows, Johnny was pale and speechless, which coming from him, was a lot.

Looking at the woman sleeping in his caravan, Tommy couldn't help but remember the way his mother used to make him clothes out of his father old clothes; worn out shirts and pants, yet she managed to make it look as if it was new. He used to wear the shoes that Arthur outgrew and he would pass his own to John as well.

Y/N’s features reminded him of the time when he found his mother sewing in the couch.

As he came from his room, Tommy found his mum was sound asleep, she just had Ada a couple of weeks ago and she didn’t own any clothes for a girl, so out of an old blouse, she was making a small dress for his sister, who was wriggling in the basket next to his mother, with her big blue eyes, he knew Ada would be a copy of his mother and himself.

Taking off his coat, he covered his mum’s body and moved back the curls from her face, then he took the baby in his arms and started to rock her little body whispering a romani song.

But his little bubble of peace ended when his drunk, lousy father smashed the door against the wall and Ada’s cries woke up his mother.

Blinking away the memories, he repeated the scene with the woman in front of him, covering with his coat; Y/N’s lips were parted, her features almost angelic, her rhythmic breathing making himself question a million things.

If his mother had this opportunity to reincarnate, he would do absolutely anything in his power to help her soul find the peace that she needed.

After several hours riding, they made it to Arrow house, trying to be gentle with her, Tommy caressed gently her shoulder. “Y/N, wake up, we arrived.”

Johnny looked over his shoulder, still in a shocked state to even say or ask anything.

“Mhhmm?”

“Home.” Tommy explained with a smile.

Smoothing her skirt, Y/N then adjusted the scarf over her head.

“Nais” She smiled at him. What was about him that it made her feel safe?

“Nais tuke.” He answered to thank her back.

But he wasn’t expecting all his family would be waiting for them, Polly must’ve spread the word.

Curious looks welcomed him as he came down from the caravan, handling Angel to Curly.

As he offered a hand to Y/N to help her step down from the caravan, gasps were heard and surprise was evident in their faces, only a few photographs of Martha were available, but they all knew what she looked like. Polly clasped a hand over her mouth, while Arthur stared to move his arms over his head, John blinked a couple of times as Ada couldn’t hold back the tears. Finn couldn't think of anything because he really didn't remember his mother.

“Please step away, Y/N needs to rest.” Tommy tried to protect her, adjusting the coat over her shoulders.

“My God it’s her.” Someone whispered.

“I'll make some tea.” Polly offered too shocked to process anything.

“Frances, please make sure one of the rooms is available.” Tommy asked the maid, trying to walk between the human hall by the door.

“It’s a beautiful horse.” He heard his uncle talking behind his back.

As Y/N turned her head around, uncle Charlie went pale as a sheet and John had to hold him.

He wasn’t expecting a younger version of Martha showing up like that.

“You can meet everyone later, let me show you your room, hey.” Tommy wanted to say mum, but he cut himself up.

As Charlie crawled from the drawing room, he looked up and extending his arms to the stranger, he called; “Granny!”

***

A/N: I got carried away and when I looked at the word count I doubled your limit Lee, sorry!

🔮 Reincarnation is something gypsies believe in, I just learned that, and well, they say we all have a double somewhere… remember your comments make my day, my week, my year… 🥰♥️

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @gretelshelby @cloudofdisney @onlydeadcells @cillmequick @gypsy-girl-08 @heidimoreton @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @strayrockette @stevie75 @the-forest-witchh @forgottenpeakywriter @lespendy @moral-terpitude @esposadomd @shelbydelrey

If you want to be added to my tag list, let me know 🥰

Edit: according to google, the translations are:

Mi-e dor de tine- The equivalent to I miss you

Nais- Thank you

#That’s what Cill said #zablife1k #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fan fiction #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby imagine #cillian Murphy imagine

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bookaddict24-7 · 7 months

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REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

Books I’ve read so far in 2023!

Friend me on Goodreads here to follow my more up to date reading journey for the year!

___

180. Hotline by Dimitri Nasrallah--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I knew I wanted to read HOTLINE from the moment I saw the cover and read the synopsis months ago. It offered everything I love in literary fiction: Immigration, a character growing through their experiences, and an interesting point of view that differs from my own when it comes to the immigration experience.

Reading HOTLINE was like seeing a story from the perspective of my immigrant parents. Much like the son in Nasrallah's novel, I came to Canada at a young age. My parents fought tooth and nail to make ends meet and to make sure I had a better future than the life they left behind. Our country wasn't war-torn, but it was going through a special period where food was incredibly scarce and the police handed out jail sentences for too many things. Many people had "one foot at home and one foot in jail" because of all the side hustles they had to do in a country that frowned upon that.

So, seeing a mother striving to do what she could with what little resources she had was incredibly eye-opening. Making the incredibly hard decision of leaving a child alone so you can provide for them was another relatable instance. HOTLINE was such a captivating exploration of how parents sacrifice and compromise in the present for a hopefully better future. It is a complicated story of grief for both someone lost and a dream destroyed by the stereotypes and biases that live in a new country.

It was also jarring to see how life might have been like in the 80s in comparison to today's society, much like the differences between the 90s (when we immigrated) and today. The hustle was real, but (in this case) it paid off in the end--which was a welcome surprise, even if it wasn't entirely a roses and rainbows story. I liked the reality of how messy life can be and how even though a job we never thought we'd have is the only thing keeping you in a less-than-perfect home.

HOTLINE also had a unique level of community that I loved to see. It proves that a village-full of support makes a massive difference. While there were moments of the MC's self-doubt and fear, there were many moments where the reader is reminded that hope can exist even in the darkest moments.

I felt like I was catching a glimpse into a real home and I'm so grateful for the opportunity. Beautifully written! I highly recommend this, especially for those who are constantly seeking out immigration stories.

___

181. Some Shall Break by Ellie Marney--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I loved the first book in this series (duology?), so I was so incredibly delighted to see that there was a sequel!

I think one of the huge benefits that the first book had was that I knew absolutely nothing about it. I wasn't expecting it to be a YA fictional version of MINDHUNTER, which was an incredibly intriguing nonfiction text about how Forensic Profiling came to be and the process behind it. Seeing a fictional story from a teen POV was interesting and darkly fun.

In this sequel, we don't get as much of that exploration that we did with book one, instead we're mainly focusing on catching the one big bad person and while there are cameos and many, many twists and turns, it wasn't as great of a read as the first one.

This isn't to say that I didn't still enjoy this book! I remember thinking, "Wow, I really do enjoy this author's writing." I was hooked and I really wanted to see where the story would take these characters. It was also kind of sad seeing where trauma can take a person and how far they are willing to go to run from said trauma.

There was a certain level of madness to this book and the evil mastermind behind some of the characters. My mind is doing a bunch of twists and turns just trying to write this review.

I highly recommend the first book in this series, especially with the Fall season upon us. Spook yourself with a YA crime thriller. I think knowing that this is YA makes it all that much more creepier.

___

182. The Book of Accidents by Chuck Wendig--⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

I've been eyeing THE BOOK OF ACCIDENTS ever since it came out. I wanted to read it, but I won't lie: the size of it intimidated the hell out of me. I finally bit the bullet when another book I was reading recommended it and I thought, "Why not? It's the perfect season for it."

I'm glad I finally read it, if not for the creepy atmosphere of it, but for the writing itself and how reminiscent it was of Stephen King. I love a good spooky King novel and this one delivered!

Some of the twists in this book were a bit wild, but they all worked together in the end. By the conclusion of the book, the length made sense because we needed to get a well-rounded story. However, during the reading of the story, I did start wondering when it would end. I enjoyed the multiple perspectives, but I kept thinking, "Okay, what's next? Why do I still have five hours left in this audiobook?"

I DO think the concept of THE BOOK OF ACCIDENTS was really intriguing, especially when we start to consider the potential meanings behind the book. Wendig's novel explores boyhood and the consequences of actions and generational trauma. The What-if's of THE BOOK OF ACCIDENTS is probably, to me, the best part because we get to meet a cast of characters that give us a bigger picture of what could have been.

By the end, I did have some questions that were left unanswered, but for the most part, it was a pretty satisfying conclusion. I didn't like the mom and how her mentality worked at times--but it also shows how imperfect we can be as humans. I think that's one of the things I love the most about Horror. Too often we look for the shock and awe in the genre, but forget how complex the exploration of humanity can be in Horror.

Anyway, I'd recommend it if you're a fan of Stephen King. While Wendig isn't exactly as verbose as King, his ability to set a mood and a setting was very reminiscent of the Horror master. If you don't mind the length, then definitely add this one to your TBR list!

___

183. The Lamb Will Slaughter the Lion by Margaret Killjoy--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I really enjoyed Killjoy's novella and how it creeped me out while reading it in the middle of the night. Although short, it felt heavy enough that I couldn't read this in just one sitting. Which is both a good and eh thing.

The heaviness of the novella is a good thing because it means that I felt like the pages held a lot of meaning. THE LAMB WILL SLAUGHTER THE LION explored grief, the power of love (as cliche as that sounds), family, society and its downsides, and of course, the topic of Power. What does it mean to have power? What do the different kinds of power look like?

The heaviness of the novella can be a bad thing because it sometimes lost my interest. I felt like even though it was short, it lagged in some parts. I wanted answers, but the writing sometimes felt cluttered enough that the answers were always on the next page and, sigh, I was already worn out from reading what I had just read. This is most definitely a me problem, but having just come off two novellas that didn't give me this issue, I found it noticeable enough to note in this review.

I AM super excited for the sequel, though. The way things were left at the end of this book had me genuinely excited to see where Killjoy takes the story!

The characters were all interesting and occasionally morally grey (as can so often happen when magic is involved alongside the concerns we may have for modern-day society), and the topics explored were timely and interesting. If you're looking for an entertaining Queer horror novella with a beautiful cover, then this one is for you!

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184. The Salt Grows Heavy by Cassandra Khaw--⭐️⭐️

I'm either too dumb to understand this book, or I'm one of the few who fell through the cracks with this one and just didn't enjoy it. Some of my friends have read this and they've all enjoyed it thoroughly. Me? I read this and as I'm writing this review, I still have no idea what this book was about.

I know the...general gist of it. But for the most part, this was a blur and I'm lowkey disappointed because I really enjoyed Khaw's haunted previous book.

I'm glad others were able to enjoy this so thoroughly, but it was truly not for me.

___

185. Those Across the River by Christopher Buehlman--⭐️

THOSE ACROSS THE RIVER, at its core, had an interesting story premise. Did it have creepy moments? Yes, it certainly did. There were some scenes that were downright gruesome and I'm sure will serve as someone's nightmare fuel. The pacing was great and the twists were entertaining, if a bit predictable. So, why am I giving this a one star rating? Well...

As a historical fiction Horror novel, I expected some of the language in this book. Having read some of Stephen King's older books, I'm no stranger to derogatory language in the Horror genre--especially when they're historical fiction novel. This book, however, was published in 2011 and used racial slurs with such relish that I started to flinch at the words (not that I normally don't--I do, but it was so prominent in this book that it started to overshadow some of the Horror of the book.)

I've also never commented on the descriptions of women in older Horror books because well...given the time they were written in, it was expected. I don't condone it, but some of these books are truly a product of their time. But a book published in 2011 referring to a woman as a dog during sex and then just...treating her as both a sexual and plot device in this book was...a lot. And the irony is how strong she is as a character in her own right. This strength could have been further explored if she had been given a chance by Buehlman. Instead, she is first the property of one man at a young age and then the property of another man, who dehumanizes her during sex.

"Dayla, the book is set in the 1930's!" That's fine, but you can write a woman set in that time without dehumanizing her like you're writing her character in a 70's-80's era of Horror.

So, while the horror of the book is creepy and the twists were great, there were some jarring moments of discomfort in this book that were too much for even me, a King fan. (And that's saying a lot, because those who've read older King know how messed up his writing can be.)

ALSO: Super creepy how there is a scene where a FOURTEEN year old girl catches the male main character's attention. And he actively has to remind himself that SHE IS FOURTEEN. I had finished writing my review and had to come back to add this because I had blocked it out of my head. She is described as "simple", I believe, and while he catches himself "flirting" with her, his wife mentions that she's a little jealous. Like, wtf. LMAO.

Anyway, read this if you'd like, but be prepared. I don't know if I'll read more stuff by this author. We shall see!

___

186. I Survived the Joplin Tornado by Lauren Tarshis--⭐️⭐️⭐️

I knew close to nothing about this tornado, but it was definitely fascinating to read about it, especially from the perspective of a child!

I think one of the things that makes these books a bit of a challenge for an adult to read (me, I am this adult) is the suspension of disbelief. I'm glad these characters always have hopeful endings full of miracles, especially because the readers these are targeted for are super impressionable. But...the more I read of these, the harder it is for me to believe all the happy endings. I'm definitely happy that characters like the mc in this one are able to walk away from this disaster, but it's just something I've been noticing.

Maybe I'm growing a little jaded from these books LOL.

___

187. Don't Fear the Reaper by Stephen Graham Jones--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Oh this book was FUN. Yes, the context is dark and murderous, but this one definitely had a lot more going on in it (action-wise) than the first book. I didn't know what to expect with this one because while I enjoyed the first book, I definitely thought it was more of a slow burn horror. This one dived right into the horror!

If you've ever watched the SCREAM movies from the very first one, then you are familiar with Sidney's progression as a character. We see her go through so many stages of PTSD and during all of that, she becomes the ultimate Final Girl. We see the same thing with Jade, the MC of THE INDIAN LAKE trilogy. Her denial, PTSD, and disassociation with her past self was unexpected but also realistic. She's the one who cried wolf once, wasn't believed, and now is watched again to see if she will cry wolf again. She has the pressure of being a survivor and she tries over and over again to pass on that legacy to someone else who could potentially be another Final Girl.

Jones's novel takes place during the holidays, which means that we are in a blizzard of snow and blood. Imagine if all of the killing in the first book were spread out throughout a whole novel and you'll have a better understanding of just how wicked this book was. It felt like I was reading a cursed sequel of a horror classic that was actually...really, really good? It was campy, heartfelt, had many twists, and some pretty intriguing Indigenous touches that made this all the more unique.

I so highly recommend DON'T FEAR THE REAPER. It was such a great read for the Autumn season (any season really), and lived up to my expectations. Will definitely be picking up the final book in the trilogy when it comes out!

___

Have you read any of these books? Let me know your thoughts!

___

Happy reading!

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tcrmommabear · 10 months

Text

TCR B-Day Bash Day #2: Masquerade

Hello hello, yes I know I’m late, but to be fair- this thing is roughly 2,700 words long, so I think I earned a little tardiness.

This is my Role Reversal AU, where Haru is the one who had to rescue Baron from the Cat King, and I just love writing pining Baron who thinks Haru is completely not interested. (As I’ve messaged @catsafarithewriter in the middle of writing to scream “SHE’S PLAYING IT TOO COOL”)

Enjoy my friends!!

***

Baron wasn’t having the greatest night one could imagine.

Though always grateful to do a bit of good and indulge some dramatic tendencies, it was significantly harder to focus on the former when he couldn’t tend to the latter. And he had so hoped to impress a certain someone, if she hadn’t so quickly gone missing.

To be absolutely fair, it was hard to find anyone in the mass of bodies and swirls of dancing. Baron had held sight of Toto and Muta for most of the evening, but then he was pulled into introductions by the Prince’s cousin, and even their well known shapes and masks had flitted out of view. He kept an eye out for the silver flash of their masks, or even the rustle of Toto’s wings, but had given up when he realized he’d rather try to find Haru. And not just for the dance he had desperately wanted.

There was an assassin running around, after all.

And in the spirit of continued honesty, Baron had to admit there wasn’t actually much he had to worry about.

He admitted this to himself even as he still dug through party goers and waitstaff, twisting and twirling and charming his way around the ballroom in the hopes of catching sight of her. Haru could take care of herself, so well that she could probably have done this whole mission by herself. The other three were here more as a cursory role, helping deflect attention while she did the actual sneaking around. But Haru had insisted all be present, said the Bureau wasn’t the Bureau without all its members.

That it was important to her for Baron (... and Toto and Muta…) to be there for her.

He still wasn’t at the point of admitting how much his heart had raced when Haru said that. Emotions were still odd for him at times.

(Especially what Haru drew out of him, piece by piece.)

So the group donned their best suits and gowns, covered their faces in silver masks, and headed off to stop a Royal Assassination. They had a moment with the family, who promised to stay encircled by their guard and away from the party itself, and the Bureau set to work looking for anyone, or anything, suspicious.

Which led to Baron’s current situation.

He’d done about three laps around the entirety of the ballroom itself, stepped out onto many balconies to glance about, and even hazarded a search through empty halls the masquerade was banned from. Not a sign of Haru among the crowds, hidden in corners, chatting with princes and kings, or miserably nursing a drink by the banquet table as Baron was up to now.

He wanted to be proud. He was proud. Haru was a phenomenal Bureau member, and would likely inherit the damn thing if Baron was capable of passing from this world, but…

He sighed, sinking further into the shadows, glancing about the masquerade ball. Elegant masks of ruby, gold, bronze, and lavender fill the space, cavernous and echoing. Baron had chosen silver, to remind himself of the mask Haru had thrown at the Cat King during their escape. To remind Haru, he had hoped, of another dance they’d shared before.

But one cannot break through to Haru when she focuses on a case. He’d been impressed by her drive in the beginning, had praised her openly and constantly for it when she’d first joined. But now, even on cases as lax (though no less important) as this one, she was gone. And he wasn’t sure how to try and get closer to her except during cases, seeing as she tried to keep as busy as possible in her everyday life.

Baron was going to have to admit it at some point. That he, likely, wasn’t an option for Haru, for many valid reasons, and that she considered him as nothing more than a work colleague. Maybe a friend.

Baron took another swig from his drink, sighed once more, and gazed out into the crowd.

And caught eyes with a silver mask.

Heat shot through his veins, sparks and fire, electrical impulses burning through the wood of his heart and searing her name. She was mid-conversation, it appeared, having just glanced and caught his eye. But her smile spoke so much more- joy, excitement, maybe a touch of relief at having found a familiar face, a couple dozen other emotions he couldn’t place but just spoke so deeply of who Haru was.

He smiled back, raised a hand to wave, but she’d turned away. Was back to the conversation at hand, leaving him to imagine if she’d ever even looked his way. He didn’t have time to mourn the chance encounter, to try and call out to the woman he’d spent the night looking for. There was a polite cough to his side, and Baron glanced to find a young woman by his side.

He recognizes her from earlier conversations, and a reintroduction from the Prince’s cousin. And despite his misgivings and soured mood, Baron can't help the inherent desire to make a continued good impression.

"Lady Ladonna Marie," Baron exclaims, taking her extended hand, "an absolute delight to see you once again."

She giggles as he kisses the air around her knuckles, dark blue eyes narrowing at him. He pities the poor fool that falls in her sights, recognizing the gleam inherent to nobles and riches. Baron knows all too well what she searches for, and yet doesn't think to worry for his own safety.

Lady Ladonna's hand lingers in his own, her grip tight around the fingers as he feels her rings digging in. She steps closer, Baron taking the chance to slip from her grip, and watches as she tilts her chin up to meet his eyes. He glances out, supposing she must be hiding from many admirers, as no one but the Bureau is aware of the assassin at hand. He smiles at her, wanting to show her a friendly face among the uncertain crowd.

"Are you enjoying your evening, Baron Humbert?" She bats her eyelashes, and Baron wonders briefly if something is caught in them.

"The evening has been a delight, Lady Ladonna, and the guests wonderfully agreeable. One could not ask for a more perfect party."

"And surely you've had time to dance?"

Baron's smile shifts, his heart aching and fit to burst out of his chest and sail across to the silver mask. One that, as far as he can tell, hasn't glanced back at him. He shakes his head, moving to gather the drink he'd set aside at her approach.

"Unfortunately not, though not for lack of trying. My colleague remains to be seen, and I always endeavor to reserve my first for her."

"Ah, for her loss!" Lady Ladonna exclaims, her hand slipping into the crook of his arm. "Yet you've made many a friend and acquaintance here tonight, another is bound to jump at the chance."

Baron glanced at Lady Ladonna, slightly leaning back to regain some personal space, before looking back out at the crowd.

His eyes meet Haru's again, her mask a shining bone white underneath the light. He jolts, missing how less animated she is in her conversation, the stiffness to her posture. He instead fills with another ache in his heart, and wishes he was someone worthy of her attention. To be seen by a shooting star as it passes through the night.

"Why, I'd be more than happy to introduce you to the ballroom floor!"

Baron snaps back down to the Lady Ladonna, her smile twisting in a self satisfied way. He feels ensnared, in the slightest sense, and thinks of ways to extricate himself without giving offense. Despite the sour mood, he does have a job to do, and the time for dancing has long since passed.

Before Baron can respond, either to excuse or charm his way, another joins the fray.

"Baron, it's so good to finally find you! I would really like to be introduced to your friend here."

His heart seizes.

He turns to see Haru, shining and glittering and beautiful as always, standing before him and the Lady. Her silver mask twists and curls around her eyes, drawing attention to the depth and warmth he finds himself drowning in. Her short hair is slicked back, her gown a navy blue and studded with silver gems.

When he'd first seen her, he'd likened her to a deity of stars and night, swept away and swaddled in her mystery.

Her smile is tense, but he knows the difference between one of anger at him and one of discomfort, and Haru had only so far flashed him one of genuine happiness before being drawn to Lady Ladonna.

Their eyes hold, and Baron feels theady'a grip on his arm tighten to an alarming degree. He gently pries her hand away, stepping to his place beside Haru. Haru rests a hand easily on his arm, touch light and only to alert him that she's there.

"Miss Haru," he begins, before clearing his throat, wrangling in his excitement and nerves, "allow me to introduce Lady Ladonna Marie. Lady Ladonna, my colleague, Miss Haru."

"Lovely to meet you, Lady Marie, but I'm afraid we must part," Haru cuts, before the Lady has a chance, "for Baron, here, owes me a dance."

Haru reaches for the drink in Baron's hand he'd forgotten about and takes a sip. She smiles and raises the cup towards the Lady, before setting it aside and taking Baron's hand. She leads him to the ballroom floor, unaware of his heart hammering between the joining of their palms. He hardly dares to breathe, afraid to break whatever good luck has come along his path.

Haru stops abruptly, and turns, taking Baron’s hands into her own, before adjusting him into a waltz. He follows automatically, taking the lead as one song ends and another quickly begins.

“Quite a friend you made back there Baron,” Haru snorts. “Seemed to have no sense of personal space.”

“Lady Ladonna can be afforded a little leniency, being such a close friend of the Prince and his cousin.”

“Her friendship with the Prince does not mean she can treat others how she wants.”

His heart warms, wanting to soothe the annoyed expression on Haru’s face. He squeezes her hand, drawing her attention away from the lurking Lady. She meets his eyes, and his heart melts entirely, though the aches from earlier still pulse beneath his ribs. He dips Haru, enjoys the lighthearted smile that blooms in its wake, and continues their turn about the dance floor.

“I’ve been looking for you, Miss Haru,” he tells her, hoping his voice doesn’t betray the extent of what he means.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to make myself difficult to find. I’ve narrowed our options down, but there’s still too many variables for me to make a guaranteed guess.”

“Any strong contenders I should be worried about?”

Haru snorts.

“You were just corned by our prime suspect.”

Baron sends Haru into a twirl, leading her spinning around him to grant him another look. Lady Ladonna seems to have abandoned her place in the corner, and maintains watch over him and Baron. Though she seems to have moved further down the banquet table, towards the drinks.

He pulls Haru close, keeping the Lady in the corner of his eye.

“Motive? Method?”

“Close friend of the Prince’s cousin, cousin is first born of the King's younger brother. Succession crisis, announce engagement to new Prince, score of a lifetime. Method remains to be seen, but her rings indicate poison,” Haru says breathlessly, eyes a little unfocused as she gazes up at Baron.

He gives a big grin, and lifts her up into a twirl, chuckling when Haru gives a squeal of delight.

“You never cease to amaze, Miss Haru, well done indeed. Has Muta been alerted to steal the rings?”

“Kind of? I’ve got him pickpocketing quite a few people, but I wanted to see if we could catch someone in the act, rather than hoarding jewelry and guessing who’s is who’s.”

“I suppose we have time, then, before we make our grand entrance. I never knew you as one to delay preventing an assassin for the dramatics of it all.”

“Please, Baron, we both know how much of an influence you’ve played into this. I did learn from the best after all.”

Baron flushes under the praise, especially paired with the way she looks up at him with her soulful eyes. He wants to sing her praises, lift her high above his head and twirl her around, desperately wants to dip her again and enjoy her laugh. He gets overwhelmed with the feeling of it all, the conflicting wants and narratives and the tilt of her smile, and pulls back.

“Yes, well,” he coughs, giving himself room to breathe, “there’s much you learned outside of me. I can’t take the compliment when I know I’ve only provided you a little.”

Her darling smile diminishes, and he wonders what could have stolen it away when all he’d done is be honest. He can’t get carried away, not here at least. They’re so close to solving this case, and maybe after he can come up with a plan to address all he wants. All he needs to do. He so desperately wishes he was more than a colleague and mentor.

“Baron, you must know I…” Haru begins, but Baron simply smiles. Smiles the smile for clients and light shows.

“Another time, Miss Haru, your charms will have to wait for after this case. There is an assassin running around, after all.”

Haru flushes in an odd way, pink dusting her cheeks and ears. He nods to himself, and continues to lead, the pair silent for the time. Baron still twirls and dips her, bringing giggles or smiles out of Haru to pass the time.

As he twirls her again, he spots the Lady Ladonna chasing after a servant carrying a tray of golden goblets. Specific goblets Baron had instructed the Royal family to stick to, to prevent a chance of poisoning or swapping of glasses. He dips Haru once again, letting her catch sight of the Lady’s movements.

“We’re on the clock now, I would say,” Haru murmurs, turning away from the Lady and locking eyes with Baron.

All previous notions of waiting until after the case abandons him when he realizes how close the two are. And Baron struggles not to lean down and kiss Haru that very moment.

The pair are, unfortunately, interrupted by Lady Ladonna opening one of her capsule rings and tilting it over a goblet as she orders the servant about. Baron and Haru freeze, glancing at each other again, before moving as one.

Baron leads her through a waltz once again, spinning and moving faster towards the pair standing at the edge of the ballroom floor. Baron lifts Haru after almost every spin, slightly higher and higher, stepping closer to the tray. He nods down at her, and she smiles, nodding back.

Baron lifts Haru high and spins her, her heels clacking against the tray and sending the wine spilling over the Lady Ladonna and servant. Haru leaps forth and grabs the Lady, while Baron moves to steady the flustered servant, both distracted by the sudden mayhem of the “accident”.

“You better hope that poison doesn’t seep through skin, Lady Marie,” Haru whispers, yanking rings off the Lady’s fingers to search for more capsules. The Lady Ladonna Marie sputters, but a glare from Haru is enough to set anyone to rights, and she folds easily enough.

“Let’s get these two sorted away from the crowd, Miss Haru, and inform the King the matter’s been resolved,” Baron motions to a side hallway, where two guards await them. The party still carries on, unaware of the plot foiled by a dance and a kick.

“Baron, about earlier-,” Haru begins, stopping Baron from moving with a hand to his arm. He glances down at her, her pink cheeks, her beautiful dress, her silver mask, and resolves to listen to any order, any request, any thing she might have to offer.

Muta crashes through the upper balcony, grips the chandelier to slow his fall, and comes crashing down on the ballroom floor.

The pair turn in time to see a dozen guards flowing out after him, Toto taking to the high ceilings in order to also give chase, shouting out unintelligibly to either the guards or Muta.

“I’m not the assassin! Stop chasing me already, I work fer the King!” Muta cries out.

Baron resolves, instead, to just let Haru handle easy missions on her own from now on.

#the cat returns #tcr #studio ghibli #neko no ongaeshi #baron humbert von gikkingen #tcrmommabear writes #tcr birthday bash #tcrmommabear #tcr bday bash 2023 #role reversal au #god i love my role reversal au #baron is a pathetic little pining cat in it and its beautiful #so good at charming when not trying #cant actively woo and seduce to save his own life #hope yall enjoy!!

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