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#make nick romanceable make him romanceable NOW
nerdraging4point0 · 6 hours
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Blood of Eden // Chapter 13 // Bad Omens Urban Fantasy Romance
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Tropes and Tags: MM, MF, MFM, MFM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed men, polyverse, shapeshifters.
CW: 18+ only minors DNI. Urban Fantasy romance, Smut. Angst. Fluff (ish), Story includes D/S themes, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of drug use and distribution, mentions of prostitution, unprotected sex, male receiving oral sex, female receiving oral sex, cuckolding, P/A sex, P/V sex.
This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.
Taglist(click to be added): @ladyveronikawrites @mysticdoodlez @poisongirl616 @shilohrosechicken @cookiesupplier @meliferafaerie @concreteemo @itsafullmoon @letmeadoreyoux @transparentwitchnightmare @spicywhenspeaking @somewhere-diamond @iknownothingpeople @darling-millicent-aubrey @badomensls @somebodyels3 @jakeygvf21 @badomensls
@dominuslunae @mountains-to-move @sundamariis @caitcoreeeee @crimson-calligraphyx @starsomens @artificialbreezy @lma1986 @lilrubles @missduffsblog @jessicafg03 @thatchickwiththecamera @chels3a-smile @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @deathblacksmoke @roley-poley-foley @ravieisunhinged @dethronetheveil @to-be-written @sacredthefran @th0ughts-pr4yers @skulliecadaver-blog @hayleylatour @littlefoxkota @anameunmusical @talialovesmiw @sacredthefran @jilliemiw86 @darkmxgician
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Rosa had never felt more pressure weighing on her as she and Nick hurried towards the elevators and front entrance of the towering Laboratory, where a waiting city cab idled at the curb. With each step, Rosa's heart pounded and she couldn't resist the urge to constantly glance over her shoulder, paranoid that they were being followed or watched. Usually the easygoing, playful Nick was a calming presence, but today his demeanor had shifted - he was intensely alert, his eyes darting around as he subtly surveyed their surroundings, committing details to memory just in case. Rosa could see the tension in his posture, the way he was primed and ready to react at the first sign of trouble.
Once they were safely inside the elevator, headed back to the security of Skytower, Rosa finally allowed herself a moment to focus inward, reaching out with her mind to try and connect with Noah. But to her growing alarm, she couldn't seem to reach him - his presence, which was normally so quick to respond, now felt distant and elusive. Panic started to well up inside her as she strained to make contact, fearing that something had gone wrong. 
Easy Mistress, Noah's familiar and soothing voice echoed in her mind. We are working our way out of the compound but it hasn’t been easy. Master has been getting caught up in more work that people insist he finishes before we leave. 
The implications of the compound trying to deliberately hold them back sent a chill down Rosa's spine, and she struggled to suppress the ominous dread creeping into her thoughts.
I just wish the two of you were home. She hoped he could feel how sad and worried she was, how much she missed them.
You're not alone are you? his voice echoed in her brain.
No, Nick is with me. Rosa's mind was racing as Noah continued to reassure her, even as she entered the apartment. Their conversation quickly fell silent as she began to hastily pack a bag, unsure of exactly what clothes to bring. Thinking quickly, she opted for the practical – a pair of tennis shoes and her most comfortable track suits and sweats. 
She had spent far too long living in the shadows, always on the move, constantly looking over her shoulder in fear. The life of running and sneaking around had become an unsettling, unnerving existence that she desperately wanted to leave behind. Being with Jolly and Noah she thought all that was finally behind her. As she carefully folded her clothes and packed them into her bag, her mind raced with thoughts of escape - meticulously planning out potential routes to slip past security, ways to evade detection, and even contingencies to ditch Nick if necessary. It was a life of constant vigilance and paranoia, never knowing when the other shoe might drop. She paused, waiting for Noah to inevitably protest, to argue that her plan was too risky, that she was being reckless. But the expected objections never came. She wasn’t sure if she was getting better at keeping their thoughts seperate or he was just too busy to notice.
 Changing into one of the solid black track suits and lacing up her sneakers, Rosa pulled the packed bag to the front door, her heart pounding with uncertainty. The afternoon pushed on with no more word from Jolly or Noah about when they’d return. Each minute passing by made her fear rise, she’d seen the future before or maybe she manifested it, whatever it may have been she wasn’t sure. But now when she needed it most she couldn’t summon it at all. Walking the length of her living room twice she pulled her hair back, took it down and pulled it back again before turning to Nick with a desperate look. “Should we just go now, somewhere safe maybe?” 
“Maria said you’d be safe here,” he argued. 
“I don’t feel safe, Nick. Something doesn’t feel right about staying,” she could hear the pleading in her own voice, the back of her throat burning and her eyes starting to sting. 
Nick took a deep breath pushing himself off the wall before nodding his head. “Let me make a call.” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket, before walking down the hallway as he dialed the number. 
Rosa took a deep, shaky breath, heading to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water, her hands trembling slightly. She gulped it down, trying to calm her nerves, but the feeling of unease refused to subside. All she knew was that she needed to get out of here, to find somewhere truly safe to hide. 
Her heart leapt to her throat as the front door suddenly burst open, several menacing beasts tearing through the entrance and into her apartment. The hunters in their ferocious, transformed states - their bodies twisted and distorted into horrific, bestial forms. Two of the creatures immediately zeroed in on Rosa, cornering her in the kitchen as she scrambled up onto the countertop, hugging her knees tightly to her chest in a desperate attempt to make herself as small a target as possible. The beasts' black, muzzled faces glared at her viciously, their sharp teeth bared and glistening despite the thick leather straps that kept their jaws clamped shut.
Just then, a terrible, raspy voice cut through the chaos, and Rosa reluctantly lifted her gaze to the doorway. There stood an older gentleman, his posture poised and dignified as he slowly strode into the room, his hands folded neatly behind his back. Dressed in a stylish, grey coat that flowed down to the back of his knees, the man's face was deeply lined, the cruelty in his expression becoming more pronounced as his thin lips curled into a wicked, predatory smile. "Well now," he drawled, his gaze fixated squarely on the terrified Rosa, "You must be Joakim's new pet." 
down the menacing figure before her, cornered and trapped like a caged animal. Every fiber of her being screamed to flee, to escape this terrifying predicament, but her legs felt frozen, paralyzed by the sheer panic coursing through her veins. She desperately wanted to cry out for help, but the words caught in her throat.
She kept her eyes focused on the sinister old man leering at her. His yellowed, crooked teeth were bared in a twisted grin, a predatory look that made Rosa's skin crawl as his piercing gaze settled on the hastily packed bag crumpled by the door. 
"Going somewhere?" he sneered, the menacing tone of his voice sending a shiver down her spine. 
Rosa wanted to scream, wanted to run, but she was cornered. She stared at the man, trying her best to remain calm.
Noah, noah I'm scared.
Her mind reached out desperately to him. But no answer.
“No,” she squeaked. 
Two hunters on foot came from the hallway, Nick's arms clasped behind his back as they pushed him along. Forcibly escorting him to thr man who was trespassing in her home.
"Ah, so they've sent you in place of the others, have they?" the man remarked, his tone laced with a sense of authority. He gestured with a crooked finger, and the hunters responded by shoving Nick even closer, their actions brimming with an underlying menace. Nick remained steadfast, his expression stoic, refusing to utter a word, his only response a defiant glare directed at the man before him.
The man's gaze then shifted to Rosa, and she felt her heart race with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. He turned back to Nick his impatience written all over his face.
“ Tell me, where are Maria and Oli?" he demanded, his voice dripping with a barely concealed impatience. Rosa's mind raced, the mention of their names sending a chill down her spine. Were they missing? She couldn't help but wonder, her anxiety building with each passing moment. The man's patience seemed to wear thin as Nick maintained his silence, and with a dismissive wave of his hand, he ordered the hunters to escort Nick away. Nick struggled valiantly, desperately attempting to free himself from their unyielding grip, but his efforts were futile against the sheer strength and determination of his captors.
Turning his attention back to Rosa, the man's expression darkened. "And you," he began, his words laden with a sense of foreboding, "You shall face trial." Rosa's eyes widened in confusion and alarm. 
"Trial?" she cried, her voice tinged with a growing sense of dread. The man's response was a weary sigh, as if the weight of the situation rested heavily upon his shoulders. 
"Morgan," he uttered, and from the corner of her eye, Rosa witnessed the hunter at her feet shift, rising to his full, imposing stature. Towering over her, the hunter let out a sickening growl, his muscles bulging as if he had been fueled by a steady diet of steroids. Without warning, he snatched Rosa's arm with a vice-like grip, and before she could even react, he plunged a syringe filled with a familiar purple hue deep into her flesh, eliciting a blood-curdling scream from Rosa as the potent substance coursed through her veins.
***
As Jolly sat at his desk, the spreadsheet Layla had insisted he complete for the upcoming taxes loomed before him, the due date still a full seven months away. He protested and argued even suggested taking the work home, hoping to tackle it in the comfort and privacy of his own office space, but Layla had pressed him to finish it right then and there. He thought it best not to argue, setting to work his mind constantly drifting to Rosa, who was alone at home while he and Noah were detained. The air felt heavy and charged, ever since Maria's call that morning - causing Jolly and Noahs nerves to be frayed and hyper aware of everything. Noah had a direct line of contact to Rosa but even that wasn’t enough, Jolly could tell Noah was desperate to get home-as was he, he was worried and missed their girl just as much as Noah did.
With a growing sense of unease, Jolly furiously punched in the final numbers, desperate to complete the task and return home as soon as possible. As he attached the file to an email and dialed Layla's number, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss - the usual routine had been disrupted, and found himself constantly looking over his shoulder. He pressed send on the email, fingers trembling slightly, mind racing with unanswered questions and a growing sense of foreboding about what might await them when the two finally returned home to Rosa.
He waited patiently as the phone rang, fingers drumming lightly on the surface of his borrowed desk as he slowly straightened up his workstation. 
"Layla Hersh's office," the secretary greeted warmly. 
“Yes, this is Joakim Karlsson, please inform Miss Layla that I have emailed her the statements and spreadsheets she requested and if there is any discrepancy or concern I will happily adjust them when I return home.” 
“Of course, sir. Noted.” he clicked the phone off, tossing it on his desk as he finished cleaning up the mess he’d made. 
“Mistress is worried, master.” Noah leaned against the doorframe, his dark hoodie and pants giving him a distinguished yet dangerous air as he guarded the halls, hoping no one would stop us again as we tried to make our escape. His brow was furrowed with worry, his normally well-kept hair ruffled from the numerous times he had run his hands through it in frustration. Despite the dark sunglasses shielding his eyes, the tension in his expression was palpable - it was clear something was weighing heavily on his mind. As he fidgeted with the cuff of his sleeve, I could sense his unease.
As Jolly pulled the worn office jacket over his shoulders, a sense of unease washed over him. "Is she safe?" Hr asked, voice laced with concern.
"Yes, Nick is with her," he admitted, "but I'd rather it be us."  the worry in Noah’s tone obvious, and it only heightened Jolly’s own anxiety. Without hesitation, he crossed the room, scooping up his bag and tossing Noah's in his direction. Thankfully, Noah had already packed the rest of their belongings this morning while Jolly was in a meeting, ready to make a swift exit if needed.
Cupping Noah's cheek tenderly, Jolly leaned in, pressing a soft, reassuring kiss to his lips. "I know, pet," he murmured, his heart aching to see him so distressed. "Let's get home, and the three of us can get away for some much-needed space." Noah nodded in agreement, stealing one more quick kiss before they headed out the door together, their steps quickening with each passing moment. 
The scent of ozone and damp earth wafted through the parking garage, a harbinger of the tumultuous weather to come. Summer's sultry embrace was just around the corner, a season that would soon bring with it a relentless onslaught of sweltering heat and violent thunderstorms. Jolly pressed the button on his fob hearing the chirp of their Denali down the aisle of parked cars. The bone-chilling sound that suddenly erupted behind him caused him to spin around in alarm. 
There was Noah, on his knees his bag lying forgotten on the ground as he clutched the sides of his head, his fangs bared and his eyes blacked out completely. A guttural growl and a scream of pure agony tore from his throat, the primal sounds sending a shiver down my spine. Dropping to one knee beside him, Jolly tried to discern what was wrong, but the tormented cries continued unabated as Noah doubled over, slamming his fist against the unyielding concrete. Noah's normally calm and composed demeanor shattered, replaced by a visceral display of unrestrained pain and anguish.
“Noah,” Jolly screamed over him trying desperately to get the hunter to focus, “Noah, what’s wrong?” 
Just as rapidly as the episode had begun, it now drew to a close. The wild, animalistic snarling subsided, his bared teeth sliding back into place with an audible click. The unnatural black hue that had flooded his irises receded, the warm brown tones returning to his eyes. A sheen of moisture glistened on his skin as he heaved for breath, the adrenaline rush that had fueled his frenzy now fading. Tears welled up, spilling down his flushed cheeks as he struggled to regain control, the remnants of whatever had overtaken him still leaving him shaken and disoriented. 
Jolly grasped Noah's face firmly in his hands, searching his eyes with deep concern. "Noah, pet, what's the matter? Is it Rosa?" the distress etched across his features as he struggled to catch his breath, his chest heaving with each rapid, shallow inhalation.
"The-the," he stammered, pausing to swallow hard and compose himself, "The magistrate has her." 
“Where is she headed?” Jolly asked frantically. 
“I don’t know,” Noah sobbed. “I can't....I'm....She's....gone."
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snapbackslide · 7 months
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i miss my man who isn’t my man but is my man
#before i start yapping again... let me make a tag for this lol (sens guy & all other hinge/relationship nonsense.. but mostly him)#just to be safe ik that stuff can be triggering/upsetting - so if the romance bs is getting annoying you can block this →#brunch anecdotes w the girlies#and i write a LOT... i'm aware......... so anyway ramble starts now 🤠#when we were strolling and talking about argentina winning i was panicking inside bc it was like#-omg i'm literally talking to a boy about this team i've waited my whole life to see win the world cup and he feels the same-#it felt super nice that at least we had one team in common 😅 & that team is my whole childhood basically...#it just made the connection so much stronger for me and then we got to talking about our hockey teams#told him i'm still getting over the 2021 run 🥲 that i don't think this stuff ever leaves it kinda just stays with you#then talked abt the sens' conference final run & the way he was reliving it reminded me of me ahah#obviously we went through similar experiences w all this and listening to him talk abt it was so cute 😭#we always bounce the subject back to the other's team to show that we care pls 😩 so he often brings up the habs#we talked briefly about kirby's injury.. cole's ot goals and matheson and i told him abt the player who's cousins w my friend#brought up my job with the rocket & he asked if i would talk to the players but i said i was too shy for that & he awh'ed 😭😭#also talked about the players we met and i told him i'd met nick and he made a deal out of it which was so sweet 🥺#he's adorable about my love for zukes i swear ever since he found out he's my fav hab it's just.. ugh it just means so much#a few nights ago i sent him a picture of my baby pumpkins and said 'look at how cute they are' ..lol#and he said 'they are so cute awhh 🥹' ..... we are soooo down bad (at least i am) (for cuddles) (..mostly)#wish i could've seen him interact w the kiddos that were trick or treating at his house :(#he talks about kids in such a kind way and mentioned experiences he had with coaches that were awful to kids#AND HAHA LITTLE SCOOP.. remember when he said he worked with hoffman? yea. HE WAS MEAN TO THE KIDS.#who's suprised? absolutely no one. fuck that guy 🤣#so yea. ik he wants kids & i might have changed my mind abt it but i'm still not 100% sure.. way way too early for this convo anyway#i know his fav player growing up and the teams he liked for a bit and i almost said that i also had an oilers phase..#but when he asked if i had secondary teams i said no bc how tf do i even begin to explain everything.. it's such a mess#specifically last night was tough bc i so badly wanted to comment on his team facing cam and all that but gosh i rly can't w that guy rn#i've been told i use 'bro' too much and now i’m afraid i'm accidentally gonna call him bro at one point#gotta fix my vocab lol.. for now imma just listen to his favourite band so i could feel closer to him 😔#it's been a week 💔#**
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lunamugetsu · 3 months
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Danny is an ao3 writer
Hear me out!
Y'know how there's a running joke that ao3 authors/writers will put in the author's notes that they're sorry that they took so long to update and their reason is because of either they got into a horrible accident/ life threatening health issue/serious personal issues/ their life went up in flames figuratively or literally, or somehow a combination of all of those scenarios. And they're all like "Well enjoy the chapter! tee-hee!" and everybody who's reading it all collectively go "are you okay?!" (aka the ao3 writers curse)
So I want to take this, and add Danny
Danny begins taking a liking to the classic literature that Mr. Lancer talks about during class and decides to writes a fanfic about it along those lines. It all starts for when he writes a Pride and Prejudice fic where Charlotte gets a better life where she's both happy and comfortable. And when he gets pretty supportive comments about it. He starts writing fics for other books as well (and it never stops)
During that time, who else but the Jane Austen fan, Jason Todd reads this fic. Yes he reads fanfic (do not ask him about his ao3 history), he yearns for more Jane Austen, but unfortunately she's not exactly able to write more books for him to read. So he turns to ao3 where there are some people who have incredible talent for writing pretty good regency era romance.
So what happens when he finds a couple of Pride and Prejudice stories written by " HalfDeadHalfAliveWriter
And when reading through the stories and looking at the author's notes.
All with very weird scenarios happening to the writer that he can't be sure that if it's a joke or if it's an actual thing he should be very worried about.
Author's notes such as:
Sorry it took so long for me to update this I was being shot at by my parents and ended up getting a burn on my hand and couldn't use my computer for awhile.
Sorry the chapter's so short, all the people in my town are being possessed by a hoard of angry ghosts because somebody had a bright idea to steal an artifact that belongs to an ancient civilization. So I had to get this out quick before they ruin my wifi connection
Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, I had to fight off a crazy guy that is obsessed with killing my father so he could marry my mother and become my new stepfather.
Sorry for the wait I got sent back to Ancient Egypt by my mentor to hunt down a runaway ghost that was messing with time.
But honestly the most recent author's note on a fic that hadn't been updated in week is what makes Jason really worried.
Sorry for not updating for a couple months guys, I was taken by a government agency that started vivisecting and torturing me. Thankfully my sister and friends busted me out and now I'm working on healing up. Anyway here's the Great Gatsby fic where Nick and Gatsby kiss.
After reading that author's note, Jason just sits there thinking only one thing.
What the fuck?
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pinaybelieber · 10 months
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Okay, let's talk about the sex scene. This is going to be a quite lengthy post but bear with me. I've been keeping this in for the past 2 days.
1. In the beginning of the Paris hotel scene, Henry did say that they should make love. Keyword: "make love". There's a difference between fucking and making love.
2. Alex was a bit nervous because it was his first time to do this. In the book, they just do blowjobs during their first few encounters and it's also the same in the movie. Alex hasn't tried any sex with penetration, especially with a man. But Henry was so understanding, he guided Alex physically and emotionally how to exactly make love.
3. The sigh that Henry let out after guiding Alex with his hand to push down deeper... that was so fucking cinematic and perfect! He literally was teaching Alex to learn his body, when to move, and what pleasures him. Also, that little nod he did once Alex was inside him, that's consent!
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4. Matthew Lopez (director) and Robbie Taylor Hunt (intimacy coordinator) did a great job in showing Alex and Henry's vulnerability. They focused more on their emotions instead of using a wide shot from one side. Mind you, this is not porn. This is a romance film! If you want to see two hot men fuck, then I suggest you fire up your incognito browser and load those porn vids. Again, go back to my point on #1 just in case you're forgetting something.
5. The point of the sex scene is to show the building mutual trust and affection between Henry and Alex. I can't emphasize this enough that we don't get a lot of queer media with this kind of intimate scene. Most (not all) of queer sex scenes (that I have seen) are always heated and rushed. I don't mind those actually but if you're gonna let me choose which one I'd prefer, I'd choose this one.
6. Taylor and Nick did a great job in portraying the blooming love between A&H. The early stages of love is always delicate. So it's given that they'd be more gentle towards each other.
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Thanks for coming to my TED talk. Now stream the movie again on Prime Video!
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sturnioloskyline · 3 months
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Hey, how are you?
Would you like to ask Chris for something, something where the reader is stealing his clothes? sweatshirts, shirts and etc... and maybe people even make tiktok about it? Maybe they notice an old video of Chris, where he is wearing one of his sweatshirts, and in the new video you are wearing his sweatshirt that appeared in the old video? sometimes even matching clothes?
thanks!!
secret’s out
pairing: chris x fem!reader
warnings: secret relationship, language, time jumps, kissing, cuddling, not proofread
summary: you and chris were in a secret relationship, but your clothes might have given you away.
thank u for the request, anon! 🫶🏽
"okay, can you hurry up? we got everything set up and i just want to get this over with," nick was on facetime, only the top half of his face showing. you had your phone propped up on your desk as you rushed around your room, gathering your things.
"chill, im about to leave," you rolled your eyes, walking over to your phone and picking it up. nick adjusted his angle so his full face was showing, giving you an unamused look. you stuck your tongue out at him. "okay. i'm gonna hang up now, be there in a—"
"wait!" a voice called from the background of the call. you watched as nick looked up from his phone to someone in front of him. "is that y/n?"
"yeah?" nick replied with a suspicious tone. suddenly, a face appeared at the top of the screen, upside down and peering at the phone.
"hi y/n!" chris grinned. you couldn't keep your lips from turning up into a smile.
"hi chris," a light blush dusted over your cheeks at the sight of him. nick's eyebrows furrowed as chris's grin only grew wider.
unbeknownst to nick and matt, you and chris had been dating each other for the past few months. you had been best friends with the triplets for years, but you've always known that your relationship with chris was more than friendly. when chris had finally admitted the feelings he had for you, the two of you agreed to keep your romance a secret. matt and nick were very protective over the both of you, and if either of you told them that you were seeing someone, they would go ballistic. plus, given the size of the triplets' audience, being in a public relationship with chris could end up incredibly messy. chris and you were content with keeping everything a secret though, enjoying the lack of judgement from others. and sneaking around was fun too, of course.
"you guys are weird," nick said, tilting the phone back down so that only he was in frame. "see you, y/n."
nick hung up and you tossed your phone into your bag, slinging it over your shoulder and headed out to your car.
...
"NOOO!" chris yelled out, putting his face in his hands. the four of you were making a disgusting food roulette as a last minute effort for the video that was supposed to come out tonight. the randomizer nick was using had chosen chris to drink coconut water, arguably one of the worst drinks on the planet. you, matt, and nick burst into a fit of laughter, knowing that this would get a big reaction out of chris.
"c'mon chris, drink up!" matt teased his brother. chris reached for the box, bringing it up to his face. he used his other hand to plug his nose, bringing the drink up to his lip and quickly taking a big gulp. he immediately let out a loud gag, only causing you and nick to laugh harder.
chris made a face at the taste lingering in his mouth. he groaned, rushing over to the kitchen sink to rinse out his mouth with the open container of coconut water still in hand. however, on his way to the sink his body slammed into yours at full speed, sending you tumbling to the floor as coconut water shot upwards. before you knew it, the coconut water had come splashing down on top of you, all over your shirt.
"CHRIS!" you yelled through giggles. nick had doubled over in laughter, and matt clapped his hands over his mouth.
"oh my god! i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry!" chris apologized frantically, immediately leaning down to your level to help you up. "are you okay?"
"yeah, just fucking drenched in coconut water!" you whined playfully. "ew! i can taste it!"
the four of you stayed laughing uncontrollably for a few moments, before you headed over the bathroom to clean up.
"i brought an extra shirt, i'll just change really quick," you told the triplets, shutting the bathroom door behind you. you pulled a black and white t-shirt out of your bag, swapping it with the wet white tee you were wearing. you adjusted it as you slipped it on, looking at yourself in the mirror. you noticed the pattern, images of betty boop scattered across the shirt, the top reading 'hollyboop'. you couldn't really remember where you had gotten the shirt from, but it was cute so you just kept it.
you made your way out of the bathroom, tossing your bag on the couch and joining the boys behind the counter. chris's eyes scanned over you, and you took notice. you glanced up at him, giving him a 'what's wrong?' look, but he just shook his head, biting back a smile.
"okay, let's continue," nick ordered, and you guys finished up the video.
...
when it was time for you to leave, you gathered your things and gave matt and nick each a hug goodbye. "goodnight guys!"
"goodnight y/n," the two of them said in unison, heading to their rooms for bed.
"i'll walk you to your car," chris said, opening the front door for you. you smiled at him, checking to make sure matt and nick couldn't see you before placing a quick kiss on his cheek. you stepped outside, chris shutting the door behind you. you made your way to the driveway, where your car was parked. you opened the backseat and threw your stuff inside, shutting the door and standing outside of the driver's seat. chris stood in front of you as he paced his hands on yor waist, pulling you into him. you wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling into his shoulder.
"do you have to go?" chris whined. you chuckled, pulling bak to look at his face.
"what am i supposed to do, spend the night here when your brothers are home?"
"can't i just go to your place for the night? i wanna spend more time with you," chris mumbled, leaning down to kiss you softly. your heart fluttered in your chest, and as much as you knew this was a bad idea, you just couldn't resist.
"fine, get in," you rolled your eyes, watching as a goofy grin took over chris's face. he quickly pecked your lips again before heading over to the passenger seat, eager to go to your place.
...
the next morning, you woke up to chris's phone violently buzzing on your nightstand. chris was fast asleep, his shirtless torso sprawled on top of you.
"babe," you groaned, pushing him off of you. chris whined in response, slinging an arm over your body. "pick up the phone."
"no," chris rasped out, pulling you close to him. "let it go to voicemail."
you sighed, too tired to argue. soon enough the buzzing ended and you shut your eyes, ready to fall asleep again.
then the phone started ringing again.
"what the fuck," chris mumbled, reaching over you to pick up his phone, staring at the caller id. his eyes widened at the screen and he sat up, pulling away from you.
"what?" you asked chris, slightly annoyed that your sleep was being disturbed.
"it's matt," chris explained, clearing his throat and bringing his phone to his ear. now it was your turn for your eyes to widen. you leaned up to chris in an attempt to hear whatever matt was saying. "hello?"
"chris, where the hell are you?" matt asked, his voiced laced with worry.
"uh, i, um," chris stuttered, unable to form an excuse. you slapped your hand against your forehead.
"are you at y/n's?" matt asked. you fully sat up at the question. how in the world did matt know?
chris looked at you, not knowing what to say. you let out a sigh, taking his phone from his hands. you put the phone on speaker.
"uh, yeah. it's y/n. chris is here." you bit your lip. chris placed a hand on your leg, rubbing his thumb up and down your skin. a moment of silence passed.
"so it's true?" matt asked ominously. you furrowed your eyebrows.
"what's true?" you asked in response, confused as to what matt was referring to.
"have you guys checked twitter at all since last night?" matt asked carefully. you looked at chris with worry, handing him his phone and grabbing your own from your nightstand. you opened twitter, only to see that your inbox was overflowing. you clicked on a notification as it popped up at the top of your screen, leading you to a tweet.
'THERE'S NO WAY' the tweet read, two pictures attached. one of photos was a screenshot from an old car video of chris, in the same betty boop t-shirt that you were currently in. the second photo was a screenshot from last night's video, after you had changed into the shirt.
"fuck," you whispered, scrolling through your feed to find hundreds more tweets noting the shirt, as well as other times that you and chris had shared any item of clothing.
'is this why y/n's fresh love is always oversized?'
'OMG I KNEW IT'
'i remember chris had y/n's hairtie on his wrist in one of the car videos'
'if u go to 14:17 u can see chris put his hand on y/n's back'
'every time chris and y/n have shared clothes, a thread'
you turned your phone to show chris, who ran a hand through his hair. "shit."
on the other end of the line, matt had rushed to nick's room. "nick! chris and y/n are together."
"see! i told you," nick yelled. chris furrowed his eyebrows.
"what do you mean 'i told you'?" you asked.
"you guys are so obvious," nick scoffed. "i always knew you had a thing for each other."
you groaned, bringing a hand up to rub your temples. chris wrapped an arm around you, pulling you in so that you rested against his chest.
"how long has this been going on?" matt asked.
"we've been dating for nine months," chris mumbled, still sleepy.
"NINE MONTHS?!?!" matt exclaimed. you sighed.
"yeah, nine months. listen, i'll bring chris back in a bit. we're going back to sleep." chris smiled down at you, placing a kiss to the top of your head.
"wait—" chris cut matt off by hanging up the phone, turning on do not disturb and placing it back on the nightstand.
"i'm sorry, i didn't know that was your shirt," you mumbled into chris's chest. chris brought a hand under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.
"you have nothing to be sorry about," chris whispered, leaning down to kiss you. you smiled softly, bring your hand up to the back of his neck. chris pulled back, lying down and pulling you down with him. he tucked some of your messy hair behind your ear, kissing your forehead. "we can worry about all of this later. for now, let's just go back to sleep, okay baby?"
"okay," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes and laying your head on chris's shoulder. chris ran a hand up down your back, lulling you to sleep.
"i love you," you spoke into chris's shoulder as sleep took over your body.
"i love you too, so much." chris let his head fall against yours, relaxing and letting himself fall back asleep next to you.
...
author's note: i hope this was what u wanted 😭. im a little swamped rn, but i promise i see all of ur guys's requests and they will be coming soon!! also im seeing drake 🤭
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ellieswifie · 5 months
Note
cuddling w chris while watching a movie in his bed and falling asleep on his chest and he finds it so cute and falls asleep after
cuddling with chris then falling asleep
𐙚 shortish fic!
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warnings: boyfriend!chris, slight angst,
authors note: this has been in the drafts for a while sorry about that, but i was just watching ‘a walk to remember’ and thought hey how about i finally get up and start posting some fics.
˗ˋ.*✧·˚ ೃ࿔₊•
CHRIS ISN’T THE SUPER AFFECTIONATE TYPE. sure he’ll want to go out on cute dates here and there, or do cheesy couple things, but if you ask him to couple up on the coach or in his room and watch cheesy romo coms his first response will be no.
you weren’t always annoyed by this though. you knew how scary it is for him to be a relationship considering how intense youtube has been for him, but it always deep down seems to bother you.
it was a late thursday night and chris had just finished filming with his brothers when he noticed you sitting on the couch strolling through instagram with a cheesy movie on, he couldn’t help but smile a little bit. nick had editing to do so he immediately darted to his room, while matt sat on the opposite end of the couch, staring at his phone.
you looked up at chris, smiling before bringing your eyes back to the tv. "how was filming?" you asked, leaning for the blanket to your right, and covering your lower half.
chris groaned, laying his head on top of your from behind the sofa. "you know how hectic filming is." you really do. as his girlfriend you’ve only been in a few videos bc of how creepy and weird the fandom is, but it does get a little intense.
“yeah…" you muttered, shutting of your phone and making room on the couch for chris. "we could watch a movie? something less cheesy."
chris straightened, looking at you then his brother. "umm maybe we could watch it in my room? and it’s your turn to pick a movie."
your eye brows scrunched as you looked at matt. matt looked up from his phone, confused as he looked at you and chris. then it clicked in his head and he immediately stood up from the couch. "oh no! by all means i’m going to my room. sitting in a room with just the two of you is like sitting in a room with-"
"okay thank you matt!" chris said stopping him from finishing his sentence. you giggled as you also stood up from the couch. "but is okay we can just watch in my room. besides i’m already exhausted."
matthew nodded, but still dashed to his bedroom down the hall. in his head he was taking no chances.
you wrapped your blanket around your shoulders, and slipped into your slippers beside you on the couch. it was nearly twelve o’clock so you were already dressed and ready for bed. you had no plans staying the night due to your crazy early classes in the morning, but you just couldn’t help yourself.
chris moved beside wrapping a lazy arm around your shoulders as you guys made your way upstairs.
you sat on his bed, while he made his way towards his dresser, looking for some pjs to toss on. he ended up finding some plaid pajamas and a plain white t-shirt to toss on. he grabbed his laptop from the corner of the room, before settling on the bed beside you.
"so we can watch anything but the notebook. deal?" chris said opening the laptop. you groaned, pushing yourself into his long arms.
"come on you forced me to watch some karate movie a few nights ago."
chris gasped as he remembered last movie night. "karate kid is the movie of the century. you can not dis on that movie ever babe."
your eyes rolled, as your moved your hands to the keyboard. “yeah yeah, whatever." you opened netflix, scrolling through the now trending movies, to then opening the romance movies.you see the past movies your boyfriend had been a baby through, and you simply just giggle to yourself. but when your eyes land on a walk to remember you gasp while chris groans,
"again?" he whines, looking at the title.
“what do you mean again? we’ve never watched this together." you correct, looking at him. he kisses your forehead gently, looking down at you. "but you have and that doesn’t seem fair." he replies.
"alright fine." you say, clicking out the movie preview and continuing to scroll.
chris frowns looking at the change in tone. as much as he hates romance movies he hates upsetting you more. "wait no if you really want to watch it we can."
"no im not going to force you to watch something you don’t want to watch." you say, trying not to sound annoyed or sad.
“no im serious we can watch it. you just have to promise not to fall asleep." he says, smiling at your face slightly light up.
you click back in the movie, rubbing your face against into your boyfriends chest. "no promises. i’m already sleepy." you giggle, while chris rubbed his fingers through your messy hair.
and you were beyond right. twenty minutes in you were passed out. snoring slightly and holding chris like he was a teddy bear. he wasn’t even watching the movie, he was watching you.
the way you were smiling at something in your sleep and slightly drooling seemed so adorable to him. your hair was just scatted across his chest while he kept playing around with your loose strands.
his eyes glanced at his phone in his hand and frowned at how late it was. he turned off the running movie, putting the laptop on his end table, being so careful not to wake you.
you rolled over to your side, so you were completely against chris’ chest. he just couldn’t stop smiling.
he rubbed your cheeks slightly, before kissing your temple good night, drifting asleep with you in his arms moments later here with you.
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chronically-ghosted · 4 months
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i wonder if you stopped his world like you did mine
rating: teen
pairing: frankie morales x f!reader
word count: 5K
summary: watching the woman he loves be with someone else is killing him, but for your sake, he manages. But when Benny's birthday loosens him up, he can't help but bear his soul over a phone call. Too bad you don't pick up and he's forced to leave the evidence in a voicemail.
tags/warnings: pining, light angst, idiots in love, country music as a catalyst, romance, tw alcohol, tw drinking, hangovers, ultimately very fluffy
a/n: Happy Valentine's Day @toomanystoriessolittletime! I hope you receive and give all the love you need and want! I've had this idea for a while, but once I saw that Frankie was your fave, I knew I had to do it!
one day i’m gonna do the series of all of my favorite country songs with a Pedro boy. This is one of them: Singles You Up by Jordan Davis. Had thoughts of Me and My Kind by Cody Johnson for our ever-fantastic Jack Daniels and Hurricane by Luke Combs for Joel. One day, my loves, one day. 
🤍Masterlist | Frankie Morales Masterlist
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Frankie Morales has a problem.
Given the life expectancy in his line of work – all things considered – it really wasn’t that bad of a problem. Sure, his knees were busted, his shoulder aches when it was cold out, and his ex keeps hounding him for money he doesn’t have. But on the flipside, his little family unit of friends and brothers united by combat are (mostly) all alive and healthy. He has a steady job and his little girl, whom he loves and adores, thinks the sun shines out of his ass. All things considered, there’s not much else he can ask for. He’s far better off than some of the men and women at Will’s talks, or in Santiago’s field teams. 
So – really, truly, seriously – all things considered . . .  he can’t classify this as a bad problem.
In fact, this is a problem he would willingly have. Gladly even. Not quite joyously, but if it’s a choice between this problem and not having the problem at all, he will choose having this consistent, thorny, kind-of-hurts-to-breathe-sometimes problem every single time.
And right now, it’s wearing a dress.
Uh, well, you’re wearing a dress. An off-white, hinging-on-cream, dress that sits above your knees, cuts flat and wide across your chest, and puffs out into cotton sleeves that remind him of those conchas his abuela used to make. Sweet, fluffy, and absolutely forbidden. 
Until the time is right, at least. His abuela always made him wait to eat until the time was right.
He calls it – you – a problem, when in fact, it’s the opposite of a problem. There is nothing he would ever want to change about the warm, engulfing feeling that starts somewhere in his stomach and rises like conchas up his spine until it’s somewhere in his ribs, then under his breastbone, right by his –
He would kill anyone who tried to take that feeling away from him. It’s when he feels most alive, most present, most out of his head – like these things in the dark and sleeping corners of his mind that nip and bite at him can’t find him. He’s thrown them off his scent in his search for you and, even for a brief moment, he can step into the light.
There is no problem, in how you look tonight, how you look every night, with your bright shining smile, sweet-smelling hair, cowboy boots, glass of whiskey – you had such a fantastic taste in –
Wait. 
That’s not whiskey. Not even a whiskey glass. 
That’s –
“White wine?” Benny yelps as he leans forward and his chair legs clatter against the concrete floor. “If that’s Moscato, I’m calling the cops because you’ve been replaced by an equally hot body double.”
You roll your eyes as you sit down and take a long drink from your glass, as if to make a point. Frankie’s eyes are drawn to where your dress hangs over your crossed legs, exposing the curve of your thigh. 
“It’s not fucking Moscato, Benjamin,” you say, eyes narrowed, completely side-stepping his compliment, like you always do. “It’s Chardonnay. Nick recognized the vineyard on the menu so he recommended it. Thought I’d give it a try, because I like trying something new, Benjamin.”
He rolls those beautiful blue eyes and leans forward towards you at the table, that grin that brings grown women to their knees plastered across his face. He knocks back his cowboy hat with a tap of his knuckle. 
“Well, excuse the fuck outta me.”
“The fuck outta you is excused.”
You tug his hat back down over his face, smirking back at him, just as Nick saunters over – with what looks to be a wine glass of his own. 
Okay, in hindsight, you’re not the problem. 
His real fucking problem is Nick. 
Your boyfriend. 
Frankie, who has decided to only drink beer around you since The Almost Incident, takes three long pulls so he doesn’t have to watch Nick and his stupid hands slide across your exposed back and sit down in Santi’s empty chair. 
“Happy Birthday, man, thanks for inviting me out.” Nick says briefly, raising his glass to Benny. “But I gotta say, I was a little worried when my girl here said your party was gonna be at a country dance hall. I’ve never been to one of these. I had to buy cowboy boots just for the occasion.”
He sticks his leg out, and rotates his gator-skin boot back and forth as if to illustrate how important to him this whole thing is. 
But Benny doesn’t look down, doesn’t approve the boots, or Nick’s attempt at fitting in. Instead, he just smirks, his smile growing fat and lazy, a bit of the warmth fading from his blue eyes.
“Your first time at a cowboy hoe-down? I had no idea.” 
Nick grins, because he doesn’t know Benny well enough to see the dig for what it is. But you do. You know him and you know he’s ragging on your boyfriend. You narrow your eyes and shame coats Frankie’s chest. Because he knows also Benny and he knows why he’s giving Nick such a hard time.
See, the problem isn’t you, or even your boyfriend – not really. 
Nick is actually a decent guy. He treats you right, if a little delicately, but he buys you drinks, takes you places Frankie could never afford, in a car Frankie could never ever afford. Sometimes, you’ll say something, or tell a story and it’s obvious Nick doesn’t really understand you or your jokes, but he smiles along anyway. He makes good money and supposedly he keeps in touch with his mom. Nick is the kind of guy any brother would want his sister to date.
So the problem isn’t that Nick is a bad boyfriend, but that he’s your boyfriend.
The problem that Frankie Morales has is that he is painfully, achingly, in love with you.
And he’s your friend.
Maybe that would change, if he ever could work up the guts to say something. For fuck’s sake, he’s killed people – asking you out can’t be that much worse (as Santi often reminds him). But if the guys you’re into are like Nick, or even Nick-adjacent, then what fucking chance does he have? He never thought money was important to you, but apparently it is and that’s something he definitely can’t give you.
Or maybe you like the stability of a high-paying job with fucking miraculous health-care. And that’s two things more he can’t offer: stability and health-care. 
So, maybe, maybe his problem isn’t with you or Nick or the fact that Nick is your boyfriend. It’s that he never could be. He, with one failed marriage already behind him and a coke rap sheet, has nothing to give you . . .
And you deserve the world.
You deserve more than he can offer you. You deserve better than him.
That’s his real fucking problem. And one he can't ever fix.
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Will couldn’t get off work to come to this, so he owed Benny a beer and a nice steak dinner – according to Benny. Santi, despite absolutely swearing up and down for a week he wouldn’t be caught dead in cowboy boots and a hat, showed up tonight in full gear, belt-buckle included because he lost a bet with Benny over the Thursday night game. Santi, like everything else in his life, researched the hell out of the two teams, their past history, older statistics of both the players and the coach. He was confident, so confident, that he put his pride on the line. 
Never a good idea with Benny Miller. 
I don’t know, Benny said at the sports bar when his team was whooping Santi’s team’s ass, I just had a good feeling. Presumably, Santi did three shots before leaving and with another two in his system at the bar, all anger and frustration and embarrassment and inhibition had melted away and now Santi was doing what Santi did best, especially when drunk: dancing with beautiful women.
“The son of a bitch can dance, I’ll give him that. ” Benny muses as the three of you watch Santi, who despite having been taught the moves three minutes ago by two gorgeous blondes, complete a perfect line dance of Copperhead Road. 
“Oh, shit, I could never do that.” Nick shakes his head. “Not even after a hundred classes.”
“Ah, I find that hard to believe, Nicky Boy. You seem like a natural,” Benny smirks over the lip of his beer bottle. He finds Frankie’s eyes and winks. 
You are not amused. You glare at him over Nick’s shoulder for the second time tonight. 
“It’s really not that hard,” you smile tightly and squeeze Nick’s shoulder. “I can teach you.” 
“Oh, yeah, don’t you know your girl here?” Benny leans back in his chair, balancing against the rung of Nick’s chair by the ball of his foot. “She used to put all of us to shame. Dancing the night away, leading the crowd in line dancing. In fact, if I remember correctly, she and Frankie used to get into all sorts a-trouble on the dance floor. Isn’t that right, Frankie?”
Now he drew a glare from you and Frankie. 
Don’t, man, just don’t. 
Benny shrugs, swallowing his smirk with another sip of beer, hands raised. Just trying to help out. 
Over the speakers, the song winds to a close and the crowd does their final spin. Across the dance floor, Santi bows, his hat sweeping the floor, to both of the girls who giggle like high schoolers. 
“I’m gonna go get Boot Scootin’ Boogie over there some water before he up-chucks all over those nice ladies.” Benny stands and fixes his hat. “You guys want anything?”
Frankie shakes his head, his own hat that Benny insisted he wear, making the line of sweat across his forehead itch. You and Nick decline as well. You’ve barely even touched your drink, Frankie notes with a certain level of satisfaction. 
As Benny walks towards the bar, the next song starts up and you let out a squeal. Bring on The Good Times has been one of your favorite songs since college. And Frankie should know – he introduced it to you. 
“This one is the best! A classic!” You grab Nick’s forearm, but he almost immediately pulls it back. 
“Ah, babe, my first line dance is not gonna be in front of strangers! I’ll embarrass you and me. Why don’t you ask Frankie?”
Fuck, why could Nick just be a raging, flaming asshole? This would be so much fucking easier. 
Frankie swallows his beer empty, an excuse for a refill prepped. He hates cowboy hats, but he’d fucking set fire to the sky for Benny – he just hopes he immolates himself in the process. The giant brim makes him feel like he’s got a neon sign over his head that blinks, I Am A Giant Dork. Only further proven if he gets anywhere near that dance floor with his two left feet. 
Your eyes are unreadable as he tries to coax your boyfriend into taking you dancing.
“Nah, man, you got this. Your girl’s a great teacher.” By some cowboy miracle, his voice is steady as he says those two words. On the table, your fingers curl in, your wine glass still untouched.
Nick makes a face, eyes flitting back and forth to the dancers as they start the dance.
“My feet are already killing me in these new boots. Besides, this isn’t really my song.”
Over his shoulder, you find Frankie’s eyes. He knows that look on you – he knows everything about you – and you’re trying to hide how hurt you are.
He’s on his feet before he knows what he’s doing.
You and Nick stare up at him, surprised by how he practically bounded to his feet. 
The sweat at the ring of his hat runs down the back of his neck. Frankie does the only thing halfway-normal and extends his hand.
“Alright, princesa, I’ll fill out your dance card.”
He doesn’t care, or even really register, the darkly confused frown Nick sends him when you stand up, take his hand, and smile at him. He feels warm all the way up to his chest. 
“Thanks, Frankie. Let’s boogie.” 
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That was a mistake.
This whole fucking night is a mistake. God help him, he loves Benny like a brother but he should have just said no and promised to take him out later like Will. He would have bought Benny any drink, any ridiculous chicken wing plate he wanted if Frankie didn’t have to be here, right now. 
Because right now, right now, that wall of self-control that he uses to stem the reservoir, to stem the flow of whatever you cause to pour out of him, it’s leaking. It’s busted holes and now he’s drenched with it – with the scent of you, with the memory of hair down the length of your neck, the heat of your skin overworked and flushed, the sweet taste of your breath in his mouth when you leaned forward, into his space, his senses, and whispered,
“C’mon, Frankie, you’re a better dancer than this.”
But in his defense, he couldn’t feel his feet, much less make them move when he watched you with your skirt rucked up high in your fists, your cowboy boots kicking like fish in a stream, and that smile – that fucking smile – brighter and sweeter than all the whiskey in the world. 
C’mon, Frankie, you’re a better dancer than this
C’mon, Frankie, you’re better than this.
C’mon, Frankie, tell me you love me.
Kiss me, Frankie. Kiss me now.
His restraint, his resolve that he will never, ever have you – he can feel it throb beneath his palms. Shudder and wobble under the thundering of his heart. It’s so close to breaking. Too close. This is why he doesn’t drink anything harder than beer around you. This is why he rarely drinks around you at all. 
When Nick finally calls it a night because he’s already got a blister from the new boots, you don’t put up much of a fight. You’ve danced with Benny, you’ve danced with Santi and his gaggle of girls, Nick himself went up for a slow dance or two.
Frankie only ever asked for one. 
He knows he disappointed you, has been disappointing you because you can feel him layering you away, brick by brick by brick. One of his oldest and longest friends, barely visible now, and he’s going over it with caulk to make sure you can’t touch this fragile, weak, emaciated thing he calls a heart. 
The instant you walk out of the bar, Nick’s arm across your tense shoulders, he all but rushes for the bar. 
“Six tequila shots, please.”
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You wake up where you went to sleep: curled up on your couch, your giant Florida Gators blanket wrapped around you like a mentally-supportive straight-jacket, with Golden Girls reruns on the TV. The empty bottle of 19 Crimes explains the sticky, dry feeling in your mouth and the thundering headache accompanying swollen eyes and cheeks. You’d rather get hit by a train than have to move out of this position, but Nick has always been punctual.
Which, you assume, extends to picking up his stuff from your apartment first thing in the morning, his final threat that ended your conversation last night. 
The sooner, the better, you mother fucker. 
You blindly grab around for your phone, knowing that it’s most likely shoved into the deepest cracks of your couch, hoping against hope Panera delivers on a Saturday morning. There’s a distinct possibility you might start swinging if Nick shows up before you get a baguette and a coffee into your system. 
The things he said about Benny and Santi last night on the drive home. This break up was a long time coming, but fuck, if this is what he’d been sitting on about your friends, what the fuck did he actually think of you? 
And the things he implied about Frankie – how Frankie was in love with you and you were willingly not seeing it – ridiculous.
You fight the rancid taste of hope that anything Nick implied about Frankie might even remotely be true when you close your fingers around the shape of your phone at the far end of the couch. 
22%
Just enough to order then yeet this fucking thing into another room because there is no way in hell you are answering Nick’s calls.
But, as you scroll through your notifications, maybe you should have answered Frankie’s.
He had called sporadically, starting about two hours after you and Nick had left the dance hall, all the way until four in the morning. 
One text at 1AM: com e hang out wit us.i mis s you u 
You smile, despite the obviously drunken text. Frankie rarely texted, only if it was dire need – and apparently, you continuing to party with the boys at 1AM was very, very dire. Judging by the eight missed calls.
Eight missed calls, but only one voicemail. 
Like you’re about to settle down for some good TikTok scrolling, you lean back into the pillows, rubbing your eyes to clear the hazy fog, and press play. 
First, there’s noise. Lots of it. Country music and people laughing and singing. Clearly still at the dance hall. You wish for a minute it is a video instead because you’d pay hand over fist to see those guys falling all over each other.
But then comes Santi. Over the years, you’d picked up some Spanish here and there, mostly enough not to embarrass yourself if you ever went to Miami. 
But whatever Santi is saying, you’re not entirely sure it is Spanish, or any human language. 
“Comotuamiga, teruegoqueselodigas porfavornopuedo hacerestopormucho mástiempo. Estaríasmásfeliz y ellaestaríamásfeliz. Nomemiresasí, sabesqueloúnico quequiereesqu labeses y la beses y luegohagasotrascosas – ¡Estúpido! ¿La llamaste?”
There’s a shuffling, hushed voices, the music still far too loud to make anything out.
“Déjame en paz, dude.” Frankie. Frankie, very very very drunk. “I’m gonna – I’m gonna say – voy a decirle. Ella lo sabrá. She’ll get it. I know–,”
“Then say something now because you’re leaving a voicemail!”
“Ah, mierda – um, baby?”
In two words and two filler words, Frankie’s whole demeanor changes. You can almost picture him curled around the phone, his hand cradling the phone to his ear as he rests his head against a wall. 
“Baby, listen – fuck, sorry, I’m starting all wrong. I shouldn’t even call you that – I shouldn’t call you ‘baby’ because you’re not mine. You’re not my baby or anyone else’s because you’re so fucking independent and I love that about you but I wish you were. Mine, I mean. Not a baby.”
You don’t even remember sitting up, but your feet are on the ground. You’ve dropped the phone onto the table in front of you, staring at it as if it’s been dripping poison into your ear. Your heart is pounding. 
There’s silence from Frankie for a second, the music still loud, but it’s dampened. You can hear Frankie breathing, swallow, and start again.
“You looked so fuckin’ good tonight. You look good every night but fuck, baby, that dress. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. Even for a second . . . he doesn’t tell you that you look so fucking good enough, you know? You should hear it all the time. I wanna tell you – tell you all the time – he didn’t say it once. Not once and that’s a fucking crime. He makes you drink white wine when I know you fucking hate it – I know you, baby. I know you more than I know myself because you’re all I fucking think about. You’re in here, all the time, all up in my chest, my throat, my gut – and you can have it. You can have it. You can have all of me, if you just . . .”
His voice breaks and your fingers clench around the edge of the cushion. 
“If you just . . . look, I know this is so fucking outta line and I wanna say it to your face and I’m gonna but . . . when that fuckin’ moron forgets how good he has it, I’m gonna be there. Gonna be right there. Because –,”
And then like someone shoved a speaker right up against Frankie’s phone, as clear as day, you hear Benny yell:
“IF HE AIN’T HOLDING YOU TIGHT, IF HE AIN’T TREATIN’ YOU RIGHT, I’MA BE THE FIRST ONE CALLIN’ HIM CRAAAZY–,”
“Benny, fuck off!”
And then the call drops, along with it your stomach. In fact, it slides out of your body, slouches off the couch and melts into the floor.
Oh, Frankie, do you even mean a word of it?
The hangover rubbing your nerves raw, tears spring into your eyes, the silence and fear and terrible hope tightening like a band around your head and infinitely increasing the pressure in your temples. You want to cry but your eyes already feel too puffy. 
You’re stuck, frozen by every single possible outcome or single next step spinning out like chaotic webbing you can easily catch yourself on. 
This was a mistake, it had to be. He didn’t mean to call your phone. He had accidentally called you when he meant to call another girl . . . also with a boyfriend named Nick. Frankie, sweet Frankie, who you’ve all but outright begged to take an interest in you – said it with your eyes hundreds of times – Frankie couldn’t actually have feelings for you.
Not like you had for him. Not like the ones you’ve slowly plucked out of your ribs over the years because god, even just looking at him seared a scar across your heart. 
Fuck. Fuck!
You snatch up your phone, wiping your teary eyes and frantically hoping he might have said a name or anything – he couldn’t possibly have meant you – when three loud bangs on your front door sends your phone into the air and your heart into your throat.
The way he calls your name is frantic, verging on hysterical. In a daze, you glance at the clock. 9:04. Frankie’s had about four hours of sleep, if any at all.
“Please, open the door! We gotta talk – there’s something – there’s something on your phone you shouldn’t hear – please, baby, open up –,”
You stare at the phone on your floor. 
Don’t they always say you can’t tell the moments that irrevocably change your life until after they’re gone?
Not this time.
You open the door and either way, everything changes. 
“C’mon, please, let me explain.” His voice has quieted, no longer shaking, softer as though wounded. “Just five minutes and I’m gone. I swear. We can forget the whole thing –,”
You open the door to a hungover Frankie Morales, still in the same outfit you saw him last in, but his eyes are rimmed with black circles, his patchy beard even more patchy as if he had rubbed the bristle clean off. He reeks of beer, peanuts, and cigarette smoke. His shirt is loose, wrinkled, his belt isn’t even on all the way, and he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
“What if I don’t want to forget it, Frankie?”
You see the realization strike him through the eyes, the throat, the chest, his gut, his brown eyes swimming with shame and horror. He leans over as if kicked and presses a hand against your doorway. His thumb rubs the corner and he swallows.
“So you listened to it already?”
“Yeah, I did.” He closes his eyes briefly, hanging his head, every apology in every language he knows sitting right behind his teeth. “But did you hear what I said?”
He frowns at you through those thick eyebrows. “What?”
“When I opened the door, did you hear what I said?”
“You said –,” that beautiful bottom lip parts from its sensual top and Frankie blinks at you. The oily blackness of shame has evaporated from his eyes, but that stormy fear rages on. 
You inhale, breath getting caught on every knot in your spine, and step back.
“We need to talk.” 
He glances once over his shoulder, as if taking in the hallway to your apartment for the last time, and he steps inside. Immediately his height and broadness fill out every empty space in your tiny living room and you’re launched back into the memory of when the boys came over for Christmas and there was hardly enough room for anyone, but somehow you all made it work and after four rounds of DDR, everyone was so tired and drunk, you passed out pillows and blankets and you spent your first adult Christmas at what could have been mistaken for a thirteen year old’s slumber party. It was one of the happiest times of your life.
His thick fingers clench and unclench when Frankie spies your phone on the floor, like a bomb waiting to go off. 
Your brain struggles to default to hostess mode because you can’t think of anything to say.
Do you want coffee?
Do you want some cereal? 
Do you want to– 
“Tell me what happened last night.” You surprise yourself, Frankie, and your whirring brain by cutting right to it. As with the first question when you opened the door to him, there’s something inside of you that has taken on wings, spread them wide, and threatens to soar out of your body. Frankie’s here, he’s here, and he said he wants you –
He called you baby.
You breathe in, trying to scrape up some courage from the bottom of your lungs, wishing in the back of your mind under everything else that you’d chosen literally anything else to go to bed in than your Tweedie Bird shirt from Six Flags. 
“I don’t understand, Frankie. Please help me understand.” 
With a monumental sigh, he rubs his wide hand across his face and up into his hair, his other hand lifting his cap up off his head so his fingers can dig into his curls. It’s only then that you realize Benny’s cowboy hat he wore last night is gone and his tried and true Standard Oil ball cap is back. Meaning he must have gone home at some point. When did he realize (or remember) that he’d left you that voicemail? 
“I’m gonna get my ass kicked,” he murmurs, eyes darting like a fox to your bedroom door. “Maybe that’s exactly what I deserve.”
“He’s not here.” This great thing arcs between you, the emptiness a presence and clarity all at the same time. 
“What do you mean? Where is he?”
“We broke up.”
“When? Why?”
“Last night, after we left the bar. We got into an argument. He doesn’t like the way . . .”
Frankie – physically, mentally, emotionally, fundamentally – overwhelms you. He’s across the room in an instant, closer than you think he’s ever been before. But maybe this is the first and only time you’ve ever allowed yourself to enjoy it. Revel in his closeness and let this caged feeling in your chest break free. You touch his chest with the flat of your palm, the size of it, the breadth of him, staggering. You literally feel weak at the knees. 
“He doesn’t like the way what?” His voice luxuriates in his throat – warm, deep. He sounds like what you imagine a hot spring feels like against your skin.
“He didn’t like the way I looked at you.” Your fingers make circles where they did into his shirt. His hands have found their way, after all this time, to your waist. “The way I always look at you, Frankie.”
His breath, subsequent to the ghost of his lips, across your forehead is so gentle it makes you close your eyes, to block out one sense to encourage another. 
You feel him swallow even though he’s a foot away from you.
“Why –,” he stops, and starts again, just like on the phone call, “why do you look at me . . . when you have him?”
“Oh, Frankie.” His grip on your waist tightens as if you’re about to disappear forever. “I took him because I can’t have you.” 
You blame the tears on the hangover, the headache, and the way he takes your chin between his thumb and knuckle. 
Grateful.
He’s looking at you, eyes soft, mouth curved into a disbelieving smile, with gratitude. 
“He’s the furthest thing from you because I tried to get you out of my system – I did – I promise. I can’t lose our friendship, Frankie, but it’s killing me . . . not having you. Nick said it was obvious the way I felt about you and that was a problem for our relationship, so he tried to make me choose between you and him and every time, without a doubt, I’ll always choose–,”
This is the right time, he supposes. 
Hand over your cheek, he holds you still in silence to press his mouth to yours. The final word of your sentence dies on his tongue, muffled by a soft groan of surprise. Your breath is terrible, your skin is oily and damp, he knows he stinks like the bottom of a wet bar, but he can’t find himself to care. Your mouth opens to take him and the hand on your cheek sinks to your neck as you both move past the initial shock of I’m finally getting to do this and you’re not pulling away and into an actual, proper, deep kiss that sends sparks into his toes. Your tongue marks the bottom of his mouth, your arms going around his neck like you want more – you need more – and Frankie pulls back.
Not only because he’s slightly dizzy but because he a) won’t fuck you for the first time on your living room floor and b) absolutely will not do it hungover. 
“Breakfast. Do you like . . . uhm, breakfast?” He can’t quite focus on a single spot on your face, eyes half-lidded and gaze blurred.
You giggle, letting his beard tickle your nose as you sneak your face into his neck. He sways a bit with you, his arms around your back, and you don’t think he’s even realizing what he’s doing.
“Yes, Frankie. I like breakfast. I eat it almost every day, in fact.”
He grunts, neck suddenly flushed, embarrassed. “Sorry, I mean –,”
“I know what you mean, baby.” You lean back and run your fingers through the thatch of curls at the back of his neck. Both of you are so grimy but you can’t care. “I’d love breakfast.”
Frankie smiles his Frankie smile and the thing in your chest is illuminated in gold. 
“How do you feel about conchas?” 
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Translations:
Como tu amiga, te ruego que se lo digas. Por favor, no puedo hacer esto por mucho más tiempo. Estarías más feliz y ella estaría más feliz. No me mires así, sabes que lo único que quiere es que la beses y la beses y luego hagas otras cosas. = As your friend, I beg you to tell her. Please, I can't do this for much longer. You would be happier and she would be happier. Don't look at me like that, you know all she wants is for you to kiss her and kiss her and then do other things.
¡Estúpido! ¿La llamaste? = Idiot! Did you call her?
Déjame en paz. Voy a decirle. Ella lo sabrá. = Leave me alone. I am going to tell her. She will know.
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brighteuphony · 3 months
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I LOVE your Sakura AU, thank you so much for making it 🥹
Even though her ending is supposed to be “good”, I always thought that canon didn’t do her justice and threw any character development she had out of the window so she can be with Sasuke
I SO wanted her to finally move on and just let go
And I don’t have anything against Sasusaku
But I think it’d be much more beautiful if Sakura long let go of her feelings by the time Sasuke came to his senses and they developed their relationship TOGETHER from the START
And, once again, your work is AMAZING and I can’t wait for next pieces ❤️
Btw, can I ask a question?) Will we see Naruto’s and Sasuke’s reaction to her condition (maybe flashback to before she left the village?), if not, can you please tell me a bit about it? I can’t imagine them to ignore her after the incident, especially considering that they are at fault as usual
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Thank you so much for the kind words! I've also never been a fan of how Sakura ended up. I have no beef with SasuSaku, but my biggest issue was that we never saw Sasuke try to make up/connect with Sakura in the same way we saw him do with Naruto, so their romance in Boruto just felt so...abrupt?
As for what happens to Sakura and her friends....
Sasuke was essentially put on probation/jailed, but broke out and defected to Otogakure as canon. This devastates Sakura, as she's both in deep denial about his contribution to her injuries and also the fact that she basically threw herself in there for nothing. Kakashi shuts down completely. It's a nightmare replay of his own past, including the female team-mate being horrifically injured by the chidori. The guilt of everything is eating him alive so he basically withdraws into himself and uses her demotion to civilian status as a way to trick himself into thinking that if he just 'rips off the bandaid' and cut ties, she'll be able to move on more easily.
Naruto is the only person who is really able/willing to face justice. After the incident, he was basically also put on probation/awaiting trial but busted himself out to join Jiraya.
So for context, Sakura got clapped hard by the Rasengan/Chidori combo (hearing gone, nerve damage, eyes shot etc) and basically had to be put in a coma to try and stop the damage from getting worse, but unfortunately none of the medics in Konoha had the ability to reverse anything but the most superficial damage. So Naruto joined Jiraya in an attempt to find and bring the only person in the world who could give Sakura a sliver of hope.
I felt like this worked well with canon and the desperation to get Tsunade to be hokage and Naruto basically begged her on his hands and knees to help Sakura. Tsunade made it there in the nick of time managed to save everything but her eyes.
But Sakura's life has fallen apart, her career is over, her parents dead from Konoha Crush and her eyes gone...and Naruto is the most convenient and available person to take out all her rage on, so...while he deserves a lot of that rage..she is essentially punching down on who she perceives to be the cause of all her problems.
Lee is in the same boat as her, but while he tries very hard to be there for her, Sakura can't stand to be with him right now, as it just makes the reality of life hit that much worse- especially when she finds out there's a surgery that might give him a better chance than she'll ever have.
And Ino visits often at first, but then it's awkward...and painful as the weeks go by. They have lunch and gossip but at some point, there's not much a shinobi and civilian have in common, especially after the shortage of manpower post Konoha-crush has Ino entrenched in the shinobi life more than ever before.
I hope this answered some stuff! Thank you so much for the questions and the interest! I love Sakura and I just wanna give her the development and power she deserves!!
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st7rnioioss · 3 months
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౨ৎ⋆ ˚。⋆ romance cheat sheet, pt. 1
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: swearing
summary: Chris and you have been best friends since middle school. Chris has been in love with you since he met you, and you developed a small crush during sophomore year. It’s now currently senior year, and Chris has no idea how to ask you out. So him, his brothers, and their friend, Nate, make a ‘romance cheat sheet’, to get you to fall for him (even tho you already have..?)
a/n: i JUST found out there’s a literal book with the same plot. uhhhhhhh, don’t sue me
౨ৎ
It was around midnight. Nate, Matt, and Nick were all slumped on the couch, looking at me sitting on the floor, my legs crossed.
“C’mon, don’t be such a pussy, Chris. Just ask her out already, she clearly likes you!” Nate groaned.
I had been talking about y/n for the past 20 minutes, deciding if I should text her to ask her out or not.
The thing is, she is my best friend, and I won’t risk our friendship just because I was delusional, and thought she liked me back. There’s no chance, she’s fucking perfect.
But yet I still had a small voice in my head, telling me she just might like me back.
“Nate, it’s not that fucking easy. She’s my best frie- girl best friend. What if I fuck up?” I lean back against the carpet, covering my face with my hands with a frustrated grunt. This wasn’t easy, at all.
“I say we make a little cheat sheet. Romance cheat sheet.” Nick said with a proud smile, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. He’s mentioned it before, but I cut it off immediately.
This time I felt different though. Maybe he was right, what if it would work? He noticed a thing or two.
“I’m with Nick on this one. You clearly like her. Too much for my liking.” Matt mumbled, making Nate break into laughter, leaning back in the couch.
I doubt it’ll work. None of us have any experience with women, but Nick had a few female friends. I mean, me, Matt and Nate also did, but we weren’t as close. I’d just let Nick take over the list.
“Okay! Fine. Nick, grab a paper or whatever,” I rolled my eyes, standing up to find a few pens for all of us.
Nick and Nate added a few points. Here and there I remembered a few thinks she liked, crossed a few of the stupid ideas out, kicking Matt because he wasn’t helping, and so on.
“Wait, her favourite flowers are tulips-“
“I don’t know, she mentioned she’s never played golf before?”
“She likes the Nerds Gummy Clusters.”
“Nick, we already have matching bracelets. Look- Mine’s blue.”
The final list consisted of 13 points.
1. Tuck her hair behind her ear once in a while
2. Get her flowers for no reason (tulips)
3. fake failing a class
4. Let her borrow your hoodies
5. Hold her hand when walking (oh la laa)
6. Kiss her forehead when she accomplishes something!!! ;)
7. Teach her how to play golf or something, stand behind her
8. Remember her ordr orders for specific restaurants
9. Always have her favourite candy in your bag (nerds gummy cluts clusters)
10. make out with her Take her out when it feels right
11. Go shopping or whatever
12. Get matching bracelets (more)
13. KISS KISS KISS - n8
“Alright, I think this is good. You start Monday, try to check any of these off during the day.” Nick said, putting the cap on the pen pack on. Nate nodded, and Matt was practically asleep on the couch.
I stared at the list for a second. Was it stupid? Was it really worth it? Would it even work?
I tried to push the thoughts away. It’ll be fine, if it’s not gonna work, at least we’re still best friends.
“Alright, I’m going to bed then. Goodnight.” Nate yawned as he stood up, making his way to the bathroom. I just gave him a smile.
“Nick, I’m scared it’s not gonna work. What if she thinks I’m a weirdo? I mumble, looking down at my hands. I shot Nick a glance.
“Chris, stop. She’s not gonna suddenly find you weird after being your best friend since middle school. You guys are attached to the fucking hip, this is literally the first Friday in what? Weeks, she hasn’t been sleeping here. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, laughs at your extremely unfunny jokes, always staying by your side. You literally sleep beside each other. So please, shut up. And goodnight.” Nick rolled his eyes as he also stood up.
Deep down Nick felt kind of happy for his brother, finally trying to making some sort of move on his best friend. It was getting painful to watch two people completely oblivious to each other.
I looked back at Matt behind me, asleep on the couch with his phone in his hand. I slowly got up to put his phone on the coffee table, finding a blanket for him, before making my way to my bedroom, not forgetting to bring the cheat sheet with me.
-
I had been staring at the ceiling for God knows how long. The overthinking had taken over, makes me completely restless.
That was until my phone lit up with a vibration.
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a/n: chat ignore the message thing, i don’t know how y’all make them. yes, it was 9.30 pm💀 i know it’s short, sorry😖😖
taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed let me know if you'd like to be added!
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radiokathryn-if · 9 months
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DEMO ☯︎ FAQ ☮︎ DIRECTORY ♪
Nate Nicks has disappeared.
Why should you care? Do you?
You probably should, considering he's the face and host of your extremely popular radio show and you've just landed one of the biggest contracts of your careers.
You are a sound tech engineer and a damn good one at that, while Nate was the face you were the sound, usually your work is strictly behind the scenes, except for the odd occasion when you were needed on air. So when Nate goes missing and you're tasked with filling in his shoes you're practically thrown in at the deep end.
It only gets worse after a missing persons case becomes a murder case and the cast and crew of Radio Kathryn and FloNote Ent become the suspect pool...
RADIO KATHRYN is rated 18+ for explicit language, explicit sexual scenes and references, themes of death and blood, use of alcohol and drugs, physical abuse and violence. please check trigger warnings.
The setting of the 70s is purely for aesthetic and technology. Don't expect era—accurate racism or homophobia as it won't be included in this IF.
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FEATURES ☯︎ [ Trigger Warnings ]
fully customise your MC! name, gender&pronouns (M/F/NB), appearance, personality
decide your on air persona──can you hack it in the limelight or will you crack under the pressure?
build your relations──do you get along with your fellow teammates? how about your fanbase? or your company?
+your radio teams backstory──how the four of you (Nate, José, Mica and yourself) got along, created the pirated radio show, how you got signed into legality, how everything went to shit... or not?
romance someone (or not)──featuring eight solo routes and two poly routes OR just enjoy the mystery and figure out a murder!
chose paths that affect the game──your choices matter, and the ending you may or may not get is dependent on them.
decide which kathryn is your mother──and your relationship with her. (Catherine, Kate, Cathy, Katherine or Rynnie)
CHARACTER BREAKDOWN ☮︎ [ RO Intros ]
The Man, The Myth, The Legend. [???]
“Nate Nicks” Nathan Nicholson──he/him. 28. Radio Kathryn's host and front man, adored by thousands. Complete arsehole but somehow it makes him endearing to others. Cocky son of a bitch that let fame get to his head... or is he? Nevertheless, he's missing now and you may have something to do with it.
think a mix between gauge burek and chris veres in druck (2019)
The Benefactor.
“Mr Robinson” Lionel Robinson──he/him. 42. The man who funded your radio show, the one who got you to where you are. Kind, calm and considerate, especially with Nate. But every one has a line to cross at some point and Mr Robinson is not someone to get angry.
think chad michael murray in sullivan's crossing (2023)
The Fiancé. [RO]
“Eva Vidal” Evangeline Vidal──she/her. 25. The woman who's been there from the beginning, your first listener, your first fan. You used to be closer but Nate sunk his teeth in her and pulled her away. You watched her steadily lose her glow and for someone engaged she seems quite jaded at the news of her missing fiancé.
think penélope cruz in vanilla sky (2001) or vicky christina barcelona (2008)
The Best Friend. [RO]
“Mica Hollens” Michael/a Hollens──he/him, she/her. your age (24─28). Your voice of reason in the chaos of life and Radio Kathryn's manager. Your support system and rock, even if they are a bit quick to jump the bullet in your honour. Mica has strong opinions and Nate has never been in their good books, but surely they wouldn't do anything to jeopardise your job.
think tanaya beatty in through black spruce (2018) or alex meraz in mine games (2012)
The Detective. [RO]
“Detective Han” Han Jimin──he/him or she/her. 30. The detective assigned to Nate's missing persons case. They are meticulous and goal oriented and their current goal is figuring you and your work family out. The more you resist the more they're intrigued and the more you help the more you unravel them.
think lee soohyuk in tomorrow (2022) or lee siyoung in sweet home (2020)
The Rival DJ. [RO]
“José Danger” Jose/phine Jeager──she/her or they/them. 26. Nate calls them the traitor─the defector. They used to be part of your team, a co-host with Nate in your beginning days. The two of them worked like magic until Nate was in demand more and José was kicked to the curb. You wonder if the festering grudge they left with is still there... and if it still extends to you.
think zazie beetz in deadpool 2 (2018) or wounds (2019)
The "Hater". [RO]
“Ji Han” Han Ji Young──he/him. 24. The younger brother of Detective Han. Ji Han is not a fan of Nathaniel Nicholson but he is a fan of the songs he plays─or rather the ones you play when he's absent. He's taken the utmost interest in his siblings case, suspiciously enough to become entangled in it more than anticipated.
think a mix of choi san (2022-23) and lee dohyun in 18 again (2020) or the glory (2022)
The "Fan". [RO]
“Fauve” Faye─Mauve Langham──she/her. 25. Fauve is a bit of a groupie, she can admit. She's not totally obsessed with Radio Kathryn, she reasons, she's just invested in the show and even more so in the people behind it. Fauve become more involved in the case of Nate Nicks than she's wanted, leaving you to wonder just what it is that keeps her going─even to the edge of insanity.
think a mix of imogen poots in need for speed (2014) and hayden panettiere in nashville (2012-18)
The Family Man. [RO]
“Mr Lewis” Jackson Lewis──he/him. 33. The night shift receptionist-slash-building coordinator. He usually brings his daughter to sit in on show recordings, seeing as she's got a bit of a crush on Nate─he's a no-bullshit kind of man but his soft spot is his daughter's puppy dog eyes. He just so happens to be the last person to see Nate before he disappeared and you can't help but get the feeling he's not being truthful in his statement about it.
think brian tyree henry in eternals (2021) or atlanta (2016-22)
The Question Mark. [???]
"Who?" ??? ???──unknown.
it'll be revealed later!
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©️ bonnie berry 2023────@moretinyideas
──the polymances are between eva and ??? (eva???) as well as fauve and ji han (fauhan)!
──this is totally inspired by episode 2.8 of sister boniface "dead air" but other than the idea of a radio show called Radio Catherine there are no other similarities!
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anashins · 2 months
Note
So this just happened to me but I found out my bf doesn’t have my contacts saved with any kind of emoji or cute nickname. Maybe a suggestion for a Drabble? Feel like a child writing this but idk how this has me so bummed and sad
Pairing: Jaehyun x You
Genre: fluff, romance
Word Count: 1.1k
Summary: As you find out that Jaehyun doesn't have your contact saved on his phone under a cute nick name, you start comparing your relationship to others. After all, that must mean you're not special to him - right?
A/N: I hope everything went well for you, dear! My bf always says, “I don’t know, you have to tell me!” - so just tell him! Because men are simple but their partners' feelings matter to them, even if they seem childish to you 💞
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“Under which name did your boyfriend save you on his phone? You know that?”
You looked at your best friend who tilted her head as though in deep thoughts. For a moment, you hoped she wouldn’t know, wouldn’t care, and that you were overdramatic after all like you had feared all along, but almost instantly, she replied,
“When we started dating, he had me saved as ‘my girl’ without any kind of emoji. When we officially decided to get together, he saved my contact as ‘baby’ with a pink heart, and it remained like this until now.”
Your best friend wasn’t the first one who you had asked and whose answer was almost identical to your other taken friends you had questioned about this topic: Their boyfriends all had them saved on their phones with either a cute nickname, some meaningful emoji or both.
Your own boyfriend had you saved on his phone under your government name. 
You usually never looked at his screen as there were always so many things going on with different people from his group, from his management and from people in the industry in general, so it was always buzzing anyway. 
But when a week ago you had been lying next to him, sending him pictures from the activity you had done together shortly before, your name popped up in his chat history.
Your full name.
You had been bummed, and he had happily continued on as if he hadn’t minded you seeing this, as if this was the most normal thing in the world and didn’t make you feel less special among all his other contacts - and there were a lot for an idol.
After all, even when you didn’t have as many connections as him, you had your boyfriend saved as,
‘Yuno-ya’ with a pink heart.
It wasn’t the most romantic nickname as you weren’t calling each other pet names at all, but still cute and emphasized his contact to filter his name out of all other people.
Now, hearing all the other boyfriends having your female friends saved as something special, it made you feel even sadder as if the entire thing hadn’t been bothering you for a week already. 
“Under which name has your boyfriend your contact saved on his phone?” your best friend questioned back.
You sighed out loud.
-
“I don’t like it when you make that face,” Jaehyun immediately said to you instead of a greeting when you came over to his house later that day. “And you have randomly started making it the last time we met. I’ve been worrying all week, but on the phone you always say everything is fine when it’s clearly not. Tell me now, did I do something wrong?”
You bit into your bottom lip. You felt that now was the chance, now or never before it would eat you up from the inside and you would never be able to let go of it. “Under which name do you have me saved on your phone?”
Jaehyun widened his eyes, completely blindsided by this unexpected silly question, apparently. “Pardon?”
“My contact,” you described it better for him. “Under which name can you find me in your contacts?”
He confusedly proceeded to speak out your full government name.
“Exactly!” you called him out.
“I don’t understand.”
“You have me saved in your contacts under my full name!”
“Well… isn’t that your full name? Under what name should I save you then? Should I make one up or…” He shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on! What’s the problem here?”
You folded your arms in front of your chest. The longer you went on to explain this situation to a very oblivious Jaehyun, the sillier you started to feel. Were you exaggerating? But none of your friends had said so and claimed your feelings were valid.
Suddenly, your voice was very low when you poured out your feelings to him as there was no turning back anymore. “My friend’s boyfriends have them all saved on their phones under some cute nickname. Or with a cute emoji at least. I also have you saved as Yuno-ya with a heart. It makes the other person feel special and makes the contact stand out from everyone else. It gives you a little surge of excitement whenever that person’s name pops up. As you have me saved with my full government name… it makes me think if you see me as everyone else and I’m not that special to you.”
Your breakout followed a few moments of silence in which you kept your gaze locked to the ground as you were now kind of too embarrassed to face Jaehyun. Hearing these words… you felt so childish.
The pat you felt on the top of your head only shortly later convinced you of the opposite though. When you lifted your head, Jaehyun wasn’t laughing and he didn’t look like he wanted to make fun of you or didn’t understand your feelings at all.
“I’m sorry,” he said with genuine concern. “I… didn’t know. I have everyone saved on my phone with their full government name as there are just so many people that it really gives me a hard time to separate them all or even remember who they are. Even the members aren’t an exception, only my parents. It was just a habit I followed when we exchanged contacts and I was never bothered enough to change it. If I had known it was this important to you, I would have done it right away.”
Was it really this simple? Some men like your boyfriend just didn’t know, were totally unaware of such things and you simply needed to tell them to change whatever bothered you, no matter how silly and childish it might sound?
He was a perfect partner for you and you couldn’t believe you let such a futile thing question his feelings for an entire week.
Jaehyun smiled at you and pulled out his phone. “Don’t ever think again that you’re not special to me and I never feel excitement rushing through me whenever your name pops up on my phone. Your chat is pinned at the very top and your number saved as favorites. Among everyone I regularly keep in contact with, even if I don’t answer for hours, I always answer you first. I always recognize your picture, no matter how many times you change it. Upon first glance, I always recognize it’s you. My beautiful girl.”
He gave you a kiss on the cheek and then proceeded to type something into his phone with a wide grin, obviously changing your name name.
“What did you save my contact under now?” you asked and wanted to catch a glimpse, but Jaehyun quickly pulled his phone away from you.
“Text me now and you’ll see.”
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chuuyrr · 6 months
Text
GORGEOUS — NAKAHARA CHUUYA
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⊹ CW(s): f! reader, famous! singer! reader, strangers to lovers, crushing (you fall first but he falls harder), heavy references to taylor swift and her reputation album, 3.9k words
⊹ SYNOPSIS: in which you write your crush a song, and he finds out
inspired by: gorgeous by taylor swift !
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applause and cheers flood your ears as you stand before the stage, a smile on your red-painted lips, albeit a little breathless as you bring the microphone to your lips, ready to deliver your speech and express thanks for the award bestowed upon you.
what began as a passion for music and songwriting has grown into stardom, as evidenced by the best female musician award you were now receiving on stage, surrounded by other artists in the business and, most importantly, your fans.
just as you were ready to begin when another music artist, much older than you, interrupted you. you stood there perplexed, but then the much older and taller artist grins at you, almost darkly and mockingly.
"yo, [name]!" he exclaims into your microphone, stealing as he addresses you with such familiarity, "i'm really happy for you. i'mma let you finish, but, she has won the best video award of all times!" he exclaims, gesturing at the other female music artist sitting on the sides, but she looks just as perplexed as you.
"one of the best videos of all time, i tell you!" he says into the microphone again, facing the crowd as if rubbing salt in your open wound, then shoveling the microphone back to you as if nothing happened.
in any case, the sudden interruption of the said male performer stunned the entire stage and audience. as you move about the stage, you find yourself uncomfortably laughing and unsure what to do.
the audience suddenly begins to yell "boos!" instead of clapping and cheers, and your hands shake so much that you nearly drop the trophy in your grasp. the shame seeps deep into your flesh, and the fact that cameras were flashing everywhere and this awarding was also being done live didn't help.
you couldn't find your voice, and the stage appears to be tilting as your eyesight blurs.
your great moment, your glory, vanished in an instant.
your reputation.
as you hold the glass in your hand, you sigh and tap the rim before giving it a quick, delicate spin, allowing the ice to clink against the glass before you drink the burgundy liquid, letting the addictive yet mild taste of fermented grapes strike your tongue and throat.
you twirl the glass in your palm one more as you recall the incident that occurred during your awarding. you recall the dazzling lights of cameras, the gasps and shouts from the audience, and what's more, that very artist who humiliated even stated that you owed him something sensual for making you famous.
a smile tugs at your lips as you shake your head and look at the music playing in the pub. it served as a gentle reminder that this was your current situation.
even if you remember it like it was yesterday, it has been a while since then. customers at the bar are singing along to the fairly spiteful yet powerful tune and lyrics of your song, enjoying the piano and beat.
"but i got smarter, i got harder in the nick of time. honey, i rose up from the dead, i do it all the time. i got a list of names, and yours is in red, underlined—i check it once, then i check it twice, oh!" the crowd of the bar sings, jumping up and about with their drinks in hand.
"look what you made do! look what you just made me do!" they continue to sing the lyrics, some even dancing to the choreography while others were just cheering and such.
your little revenge song appears to have polarized music critics, with some praising your new direction and hailing it as a fierce comeback, while others were disappointed with your change of style from your usual romance-esque and heartbreak songs to a dark electroclash and dance-pop, as well as the hidden message that underpins it.
"huh, that was a nice build-up to a crescendo build in the pre-chorus from the sparse verses," a voice next to you comments.
you blink, your eyes widening and your heart trembling slightly.
shit. did you got recognized already?
you slowly turn your head, and there stands a red-brunet with his hair framing his face and a black fedora on top of his head. he's dressed in a white button-up shirt underneath a gray vest, a black choker, a black ribbon bolo tie kept together with a little silver clasp, an open black cropped jacket with sleeves pulled up at the elbows, black slacks, a black belt dropping off his right hip, and black low-arch shoes.
you can feel your heart pounding. this man appears to be a big deal, possibly like you? was he a music critic, perhaps? you thought you heard him say something about your song, “look what you made me do”, playing in the background, but you couldn't be sure.
but there was something oddly appealing about this man, and you found yourself glancing at his face rather than his suit, and…
ba.. dump..
you feel the blood rush into your cheeks and your heart skip a beat when you notice he has beautiful blue eyes that remind you of the ocean.
your gaze ultimately settles on the creases of his face, from his brows to his nose and all the way to his lips. he is so gorgeous that you find it difficult to swallow the lump growing in your throat, your words becoming tangled in your tangle of thoughts and feelings.
for a brief moment, you've forgotten what you were drinking and thinking about because he—this stranger—has taken over everything in your mind.
when he finally turns to you, allowing you to be face-to-face with him as he sits on the cushioned stool next to you, you shift in your seat, becoming nervous once more.
"are you okay?" he says, and you notice him watching at you carefully, but with some concern, as he notices your flushed cheeks and how you appeared to be a little shaken in your seat.
"wha—?" you murmur out, blinking in confusion.
he blinks back before narrowing his eyes slightly, a look of uncertainty on his face, yet the way he does it is igniting feelings inside your chest right now.
"i asked if you were okay. is everything okay, miss?" he asks again, and this time a chuckle escapes his lips.
"o-oh, yeah. i’m fine, no worries," you exhale, a sheepish smile on your face as you manage a brief fit of laughter. you were still in awe of this man.
you assumed he was a music critic or a businessman wanting to interview you or get you into a deal for collaborations, but from the way he speaks and addresses you, he appears to be neither.
what's more unexpected is that he doesn't seem to even recognize you.
you were already expecting him to start bombarding you the instant he laid eyes on you and sat next to you, but it was something you didn't mind at all. it was a strange feeling for you, yet it was reassuring in some ways.
being famous always meant having eyes and cameras trained on you at all times, which you acknowledge was a touch stifling. you couldn't really blame yourself because you've made quite a name and reputation for yourself with the songs you've composed since you were a child.
you gently sit back, more calm now that he doesn't appear to recognize you, and order another glass of wine from the bartender, who kindly pours you some from the bottle.
"hey, is that a pinot noir?" you hear him speak again, commenting on the beverage you got.
you turn back to face him, "yeah, it is. why?"
"that's a great wine to have by itself," he explains, chuckling softly.
"you seem to know a lot about wine," you smile at him before taking a sip of your drink, welcoming the taste of the wine in your taste buds once more.
"and you seem to have a good eye," he says, smiling. at least, that's how you perceive it. the sort that you'd see from your fans, not the ones that reminded you of bad music critiques and certain people in your life.
he turns to the bartender to order himself a drink, which you see sends a little surprise from the bartender as you hear the bartender fumbling over when he orders a wine called petrus, oblivious of how ridiculously pricey it was.
"you have a problem with me ordering petrus? hah?" he asks, arching his brow at the bartender, and you find yourself giggling at the sound of his tone.
something about the way he spoke when he was agitated, the subtle growl in his voice, was sending you.
"oi, what's so funny?" huffs the red-brunet, staring at you with a little but not necessarily mean glare.
"nothing," you remark between laughter as you sipped your pinot noir, "you just sound like a cute but angry puppy."
"EXCUSE ME?!"
maybe you did drink a little too much that night.
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the next thing you know, you're seeing the same man you saw about a week before, and strangely enough, you discovered him in the club doing who knows what.
it was bizarre, truly, but you felt drawn to this man you had no known about. you didn't even know his name when you met him in the bar, so you did what any normal person would have done.
you simply stay far from the crowd admist the blasting lights and music in the dimly lit room because you don't dare to approach him, but little did you know, he was here for a reason, and one thing he wasn't expecting was to see you again the moment he does.
"you again?" he asks as he purposely bumps into you when he walks across the crowd.
"i think i should be saying that to you, mister fancyhat," you say back with a smile tugging on your lips.
his eyes widen a bit at the nickname and for a second he scoffs, "the hell?"
"well, you never gave me your name," you playfully roll your eyes at his reaction, giggling and immediately saying, "i mean it though. your hat is pretty fancy."
"well, thanks," he shrugs his shoulders before asking, "so, would you like a drink?"
"you bet i do," you smile softly with a wink. how could you not accept this man's offer?
"well then," he says, a small grin tugging on his lips, "how does whisky on ice sound this time?”
"sounds good," you remark, shrugging your shoulders, but what he says next takes you by surprise.
"but do me a favor and get behind me real quick, sweetheart," he urges sternly, forcing you to move instinctively to do what he says.
small gasps fill the club at the unexpected ruckus, some even afraid by the red-brunet's sudden cruelty to this stranger, but all settles down when he states that the guy was snapping pictures of you without your permission.
for some reason, even though he was yelling and threatening the paparazzi, the manner he protected and guarded you from them was not alarming to you. it even made your heart skip a beat for some strange reason.
you never imagined that stranger you met could be that interesting. he definitely had a reputation, possibly as big as yours, if not bigger—and you were enamored like a schoolgirl with a big crush.
could he possibly be a spy? or even a mafioso? the possibilities were endless. you had no idea what it could be, but it gave you a rush of thrill and excitement. he was so cool.
"hey, um," you manage to say, blinking out of your sight as chuuya scoffs at the person taking pictures without your permission—you didn't know how to explain to him that the guy he had just nearly beaten up was your paparazzi, but you were grateful.
"what? you okay? that guy was following you, ever since i saw you in here, actually," chuuya adds, pulling you by the wrist to take you somewhere secure in the club, unaware that he was also there for another reason involving his line of work.
"yeah, i'm fine," you admit with a sheepish smile, "more than fine, actually. let's just drink.”
chuuya sighs and scoffs a little, but smiles at you, "just try not to get drunk and make fun of me like last time, okay?"
you can't help but quietly giggle as you recall getting drunk on your wine the last time you met in person at the pub. to be honest, the growl of his voice and the way he says his r's as he becomes irritated at the bartender's answer to his request for a petrus tickles your brain in a hilarious manner.
"i'll try not to then, but no promises~"
"you better not damn it."
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from the moment you met chuuya a spark ignited in your very heart. as you spent more time together in secret, the ember grew into a flame, fueled by shared laughter and late-night conversations.
it was in those moments that you discovered the layers beneath chuuya's tough exterior, the vulnerabilities that made him undeniably human.
one evening, inspired by the depth of your emotions, you found yourself sitting with a guitar in hand, fingers strumming gently. the lyrics flowed like a river. each word echoed with sincerity, a testament to the connection you had forged. you wove a tapestry of emotions into the song, from the subtle nuances of his laughter to the way his eyes held the oceans of stories.
lyrics always came to you naturally the minute you felt inspired to write a song, but this time was different.
instead of simply focusing on your reputation, past painful experiences, those who had wronged you, and even past lovers who now serve only as heartbreak and lessons, this time it was all about him.
you found the sweet whisperings of love gently tugging at the strings of you heart. as you navigated the complexities of your emotions, you stumble upon a connection that felt like destiny—a love story in the making.
with pen in hand and heart wide open, you pour your emotions onto the blank pages, each word a declaration of the feelings blossoming within. the verses were a canvas painted with shared moments, laughter echoing in the lyrics, and the subtle nuances of chuuya's essence woven into the melody.
as the melody and chords resonated with the rhythm of your emotions, you realize that in writing a love song for chuuya, you were not just creating another song; you were navigating the path to love once more.
and each lyric became a stepping stone, leading you towards a renewed understanding of affection and the beauty of opening one's heart to another, and it was a celebration of the love that had rekindled within you after everything.
late into the night, you penned the final verses, pouring my feelings onto paper. the melody became a vessel for the unspoken, a silent confession wrapped in the chords of a heartfelt song of bubblegum pop.
it was a labor of love mirroring the evolution of your feelings for chuuya, and as the last notes faded away, you knew you had given voice to the emotions that had taken root in your heart.
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chuuya was in his office at the port mafia headquarters, having completed his report for the boss.
he was merely looking out his office window with a glass of wine in hand, a neutral and albeit weary expression on his face, letting out a tired sigh as the radio playing from his desk said the following words just before a new song came on,
"here we have next is a new single from the one and only, [surname] [name], entitled gorgeous!"
chuuya's eyes widen as he hears your very name on the radio. he may have only recently learned your name, but he remembers it vividly, as the song begins.
there was no doubt that was you and your voice singing on the radio, and this song doesn't simply tell about someone who is in love with a new love interest in a promiscuous manner in an attempt to attract the attention of a prospective lover.
“ocean blue eyes, looking in mine. i feel like i might sink and drown and die—you're so gorgeous! i can't say anything to your face.”
chuuya stands in stunned silence as the melody filled the atmosphere when the bridge comes in. the song was a heartfelt composition, capturing every nuance of his personality and the shared moments between you two.
“you make me so happy, it turns back to sad, there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have. you are so gorgeous it makes me so mad. you make me so happy, it turns back to sad. there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have and, guess i'll just stumble on home to my cats alone.. unless you wanna come along?”
the drum beats, synthesizers, and the gentle cadence of your voice resonated with emotion filled the air. it took chuuya a moment to register that the words were meant for him, a love letter crafted in the form of a song.
as more of the lyrics unfolded, he felt the weight of your affection settle in his chest, each note a testament to the depth of your feelings. it was a revelation that left him breathless, realizing that someone had taken the time to compose a symphony of emotions just for him.
the lyrics danced between vulnerability and strength, capturing the essence of your connection. in that moment, chuuya understood the magnitude of your love, and a warmth enveloped him.
chuuya feels his face grow hot, only because of he was too oblivious for a mafioso to not recognize you, to not realize he had been speaking to a famous artist like you out in the open just like that, thinking you were just some beautiful girl in the bar and club he'd go to. no, you were more than that.
and now, going back to it, it makes sense as to why he would constantly find people trying to take pictures of you, as to why you would seem quite tense at times, or even why you would keep staring at him.
"fuck," chuuya curses to himself, "oh, fuck."
the final chords of the song lingered in the air, not long after, and without hesitation, he reached for his phone, fingers tapping with urgency as he dialed your number.
the phone rang, each tone echoing his anticipation. when you answered, he could hear the warmth in your voice, a familiar timbre that matched the melody he had just experienced.
"was that... you?" he asks, his voice a mixture of awe and genuine curiosity.
there was silence for a moment, before you answer, "so you heard it on the radio." you says softly in the call.
as you confirmed it was indeed your creation, chuuya couldn't help but smile, a rare and genuine expression breaking across his face. the connection between you two deepened with every word, the song serving as a bridge that brought your emotions to the forefront.
in that moment, over the phone lines, chuuya felt a profound connection, grateful for the beautiful revelation you had shared with him.
the warmth in his voice betrayed a mix of emotions as he spoke, "it was... incredible. you wrote that for me, sweetheart?"
there was a brief pause, filled only by the static hum of the phone line, before he continued, "i never knew. i... i don't know what to say, but i had to hear your voice, to tell you that it meant everything."
a playful chuckle escaped your lips as you tease him, "took you long enough to connect the dots, didn't it? turns out you've been with a famous artist all along." there was even a lighthearted tone to your words, a mixture of amusement and affection.
chuuya's response was a hearty laugh on the other end, a sound that resonated with genuine delight.
"well, i guess i’m not the fastest at catching on," he admits, the hint of self-awareness in his voice. but then, a sincerity washed over his words as he continued, "but damn, you just made me fall harder for you, sweetheart."
the exchange of laughter and genuine emotions continued, bridging the gap between the revelation of your identity and the newfound depth of your connection. the melody of your shared feelings played on, a harmony that echoed between two hearts that had finally found each other.
excitement radiated through the phone as chuuya declares, "enough of phone calls, i need to see you right now."
there was now a newfound sense of urgency in his voice, a genuine desire to bridge the physical distance that remained between you two at this moment, "where are you right now?"
you share your location without any hesitation, without waiting for another response, he swiftly made his way.
as chuuya reaches the familiar spot, his eyes scanned the surroundings eagerly, searching for the person behind the melody that had woven its way into his heart.
and then, there you were, standing under the soft glow of a streetlamp, a smile playing on your lips as you locked eyes with chuuya.
the world seemed to fade away as he closed the distance between you, the anticipation building with each step. without a word, chuuya pulls you into a tight embrace, savoring the reality of your presence after the emotional journey of hearing your song on the radio in his office.
in that moment, the bustling world around you melted away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in a shared understanding and newfound depth of affection.
chuuya whispers in your ear, "i needed to see you, to feel this. no more hiding behind melodies and phone calls, damn it. just you and me, together."
his arms held you in a comforting embrace as the world around you embraced the quietude of the night. the streetlamp cast a gentle glow on both of you, and the soft hum of the city formed a distant backdrop to the shared moment.
breaking the silence, chuuya gazes into your eyes, a mixture of gratitude and genuine emotion reflected in his intense gaze. "i can't believe i've been so blind to what was right in front of me. how could i have not known who you were, and that song.."
you smile softly, a tender acknowledgment of the connection that had finally blossomed between you two, "i meant every word, chuuya. you have no idea how much i want you."
he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch a gentle reassurance. "well, i'm done letting things slip through my fingers. i want this, with you," his breathy words hung in the air, carrying the weight of a promise.
and so, beneath the canvas of the night sky, chuuya's lips met yours in a gentle, yet fervent kiss. it was a collision of emotions, a fusion of longing and realization.
as you melt into the kiss, the embrace held a promise of a beginning, a tender affirmation that echoed louder than any song you've written before, and the melody of your hearts played the sweetest tune, and the night whispered secrets of a love that had finally found its voice.
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⊹ a.n.: thank god my finals is finally over because i finally got to finish writing this !! *literally cries* i also think i went all out for this one too because it ended up reaching 3.9k words, which is crazy. oh, and to the anon that requested this, i hope you enjoyed reading this one, in fact, all of you who made it this far—i love you and thanks for reading (honestly felt like i wrote a bit too much for this fic but oh well lol) <3
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268 notes · View notes
imagine-silk · 6 months
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Hello! May I request fallout 4 companions (Nick especially) with Sole who shares the bare minimum of information about themselves? Not because Sole doesn’t trust them, they really enjoy theirs companions company. Perhaps they busy themselves so they don’t have to think about all the little and big things they miss. (I bet Codsworth would find pristine things that Sole would miss (like a favorite movie, vinyl, or comic?))
Sorry if its not something you’re interested in doing right now. The ask kinda came out as a ramble, I’m lacking sleep haha. Thanks again for considering my request!
》Honestly one of my favorite kinds of characters.
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【Cait】 She doesn't appreciate it. Her contract was traded to some random weirdo who barely says anything. It took three days before the topic of your name came up. And two weeks to know what you were looking for, who. But in return you don't ask what she does on her own time or what she's done. It feels like you don't mind rather than you don't care and that makes her feel seen. It stays between you unsaid in her eyes.
♡If romanced she doesn't push for any information. You'll tell her if it's important. People think it's weird the two of you to not share about yourselves like normal people but you're happy, that's all that matters.
【Codsworth】 It's just like it was before. He, unlike the others, already knows you. He knows you very well. Not only did you do an intake for daily preferences but he also served you for a few years. While you're out and about you'll do something or say something that sounds like no information to others or out of context and he'll answer, "Just as I was thinking as well." While you camp with some of the other companions he does chores the way you like without needing to ask, making comment on recent events, which makes them jealous for sure. He digs up things from the house he preserved or found and fixes them up brand new before presenting it to you. Songs you liked or wanted to hear. Movies and shows and comics. Clothes pressed for you and the furniture is redone the way it used to be. He knows you and wants to keep it that way.
【Curie】 Low-key doesn't care. She has one thing on her mind and that's her own goal to better medicine. Finding things to do that is all she needs of you. When she goes to be a synth her feelings overwhelm her and you guide her through that. She's never ever asked about you. She'll tell you about what she's feeling but never thinks to ask what you feel. In her defense, is doesn't understand the nuance of social interactions. And to her credit, it works for the both of you.
♡If she's romanced she realizes she wants to know what you feel and if it's the same as her. She's mostly interested in what you feel now rather than what your opinion is in the past or isn't currently relevant.
【Danse】 Right away he doesn't care for it. A mercenary who talks very little can be dangerous. But you followed orders well and are a damn good shot. The way he asks is more like demanding. It was all for a vetting process but still rude. After the intake he didn't care about your lack of openness. Didn't matter to him personally. After BB he suddenly regrets not knowing you. He was so rude and dismissed you as another faceless soldier and you saved him, from the Brotherhood and himself. Now he wants to know you.
♡If romanced he makes effort to know you, like really know you. For a long time he refused individuality so his own sense of self is not great. But you know yourself and make no attempt to hide it. You are so sure of yourself you don't need to explain. That's one of the things he loves about you.
【Deacon】 He thinks you're like him, that you want to hide in plain sight. As much as he gives that to you he's nosy as fuck and takes every chance to learn about you, mostly from afar. It doesn't take any time at all for him to realize you'll just tell him. Most of them are one word answers. It takes him even less time after that to realize you'll comment on things from before the war especially.
♡If romanced he goes out of his way to show you stuff. Old posters and toys. If you follow my headcanon that he's pre-war, he makes old references and generally adds comments on things to bait your answers.
【Hancock】 He thinks it's pretty cool. "Oh, tall, dark, and handsome/beautiful." He does play twenty questions with you 24/7 and is very happy with your half-answers because an answer is still an answer. Plus he knows at least two other people like you. He is the one who figures out that you just don't have the time or think about talking about yourself rather than purposely keeping secrets the fastest. He knows people so he knows better.
♡If romanced he plays with it. You want a kiss? Tell him what's your favorite color. He'll get on his knees if you tell him what you like about your new home. But honestly he'll do it anyways. All he needs to know is that you want him like he wants you.
【MacCready】 He was more concerned about you putting a bullet in his head while his back was turned. Everyone in the Commonwealth was looking out for number one. So imagine his surprise when you were looking out for your number one and it wasn't you. Not only were you looking for your son but you stopped to help every person who asked for help. Your actions spoke to him in a way your words, he figured, couldn't. You didn't need to help him but you did. You didn't take the caps back. And you killed the gunners the second they turned their guns on him even when they said their beef wasn't with you. It was what you did, not what you told him.
♡If romanced he will ask things. Basic ones are like, "How was your day?" Normal questions that are the peak of domestic life. Then the more personal things. Some sound silly, "What's your favorite color?" But most build off of a quick thing you said in passing, "Wait, you've been to California? What was it like?" He trusts you'll tell him the truth.
【Nick】 As a private detective this simply won't do. He gets it at first, you just need him to find your son, it's business. However, you want him to stay with you after that. It confuses him because you made no indication you like him in the slightest way. He's the second fastest to realize you're not keeping to yourself on purpose. As one of the only ones who are pre-war he's able to get things the others can't. He'll talk about things and give his options and bait you into answering it. That was a common way to get people to talk back then when you were trying to be polite and keep up the conversation, even if the conversation stays a bit thin.
♡If he's romanced he makes fun of the fact you forget to say things about yourself. Don't get it wrong, he makes it clear you don't need to share. He's just poking fun.
【Piper】 This simply won't do. She asks as many question as they come up but she gets depressing short answers. You either give one word answers or say you're not really in the mood, on some occasions you admit you don't know, you never thought about it. It takes a long time for her to stop and that's only because the questions start getting old. And you still feel like a mystery even though you've told her everything.
♡If she's romanced she realizes how much you've told her and pushes it. What is your type? How do your lips feel? Why do you look so good? It becomes playful and light, never serious.
【Preston】 In the beginning he didn't realize he didn't know much about you. He took your help selfishly to get him and his people back on stable ground but you told him you were happy to help. So he takes time to learn about you and give you everything he could possibly help you with. In hopes you would share by yourself he gives things to you without any prompt. It doesn't really work most of the time.
♡If romanced he asks things with hearts in his eyes. He is so lovesick he takes all of your half-answers and files it away in his mind. It hardly matters at that point.
【X6】 It wasn't his mission so he didn't care. You owed him no explanation or justification. Doesn't mean he doesn't question you. He asks why you helped someone, why you stopped for a distraction. And of course you give short answers like, "They needed help." or "I wanted to." Later, after the Institute is gone, he sees how you carry yourself and tries to copy it. Obviously he can't so you help him too. You showed him he can figure himself out by himself and he didn't need you. So he held the same opinion; he doesn't need to know you like that.
♡If romanced he's still comfortable with you keeping things to yourself. It's only after months of being together do you realize he's never asked you a personal question, that you've never shared anything that personal. When you bring that to him he tells you that hardly matters. But seeing you make the effort after that gives him a feeling he can't describe. It's a good feeling he thinks.
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tteokdoroki · 10 months
Text
✩࿐TRACK 03: WAR WITH HEAVEN. izuku midoriya (2K)
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about. upon spending time apart from your pro-hero fwb, deku, for a work trip — he quickly realises he wants it all with you. heaven, hell and life on earth.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! suggestive, sfw, slight angst, fluff, happy ending, sneaky links, long distance relationships, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, friends with benefits to lovers, journalist + fem!reader, pro hero!deku.
things to note. another saturday is upon us and so is another instalment!! i really like this one n can’t believe we’re half way through already !! anyways i hope you enjoy <3 - masterlist / series masterlist / series playlist ✩
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whether you believe it or not, izuku midoriya has never been hopelessly in love. 
like most people with an overexposure to romance saturated media — the number one hero has always had that nagging feeling, craving for something more. the person to come home to, the partner, the kids and the dog that chews through the white picket fence or makes a mess on the freshly cut lawn. he wants a family like most individuals. but with a schedule as busy and a lifestyle as reckless as his…there’s hardly any time for izuku’s dreams. 
dreams were for losers, anyways. 
after high school, izuku quickly learned that dreaming wasn’t enough to get by even if it had motivated him to become a hero. reality is harsh and full of hard truths — bearing the responsibility of future number one and being all might’s prodigy had taught him that. so his rose tinted view of the future he had planned for himself quickly collapsed, the stain glass window shattering above him while its shards nicked at izuku’s youthful, hopeful skin.
he wasn’t so pure and good after leaving U.A — at least not in front of the public. behind closed doors izuku was a pessimist. he was sly and maybe a little sleazy, always on the prowl for something or someone to toy with. little deku was all grown up, no longer baby-faced and bright eyed but instead buffer with an unfairly tiny waist and an angular sharpness to his jaw that could cut diamonds. 
he was attractive and he knew it — his new found confidence bled into his sex appeal and sky rocketed his popularity and now…the number one controls the whole of Japan in the palm of his hand. everybody wants a taste of the new and improved izuku midoriya. 
everyone including you. 
mindless hookups, despite being easy stress relief, always left izuku with a sour taste in his mouth. conservations with the elite that happened to stumble into his bed never went further than superficial talk and the odd ‘lets do this again sometime’s. he hated how people would change around him, clinging onto him after a night in the sheets like deku owed them a piece of his soul. 
being the number one was no longer enough for hungry mouths. sex no longer satisfied those in his circle. 
that was until he met you. the first time deku encountered you (at a hero press junket), you had been a shy intern journalist forced to follow around her mentor with an extreme lust for the green haired hero. he felt bad for you, you were obviously there to learn and do your job but the senior professional they’d stuck you with couldn’t help but slobber all over him instead of teaching you. 
half-way through the junket, izuku had managed to sneak away from the pestering paparazzi to get a moment to himself — and it seemed, you’d had similar ideas. his initial assessment of your character was way off too. you were quiet, sure, but observant and snarky as well. a realist just like him. and somehow, you’d managed to convince him to leave to conference; get drinks at a secret roof top bar for only the highest members of japanese hero society, and talk and talk for hours about everything and anything. from quirks to the best snack combinations at the only kombini open past three AM on your street.
izuku liked you, he hadn’t felt such a spark for someone since his rookie days. you were cute, he couldn’t stop looking at your eyes and how they sparkles. your lips when you sipped the drinks he ordered for you and the way you instinctively leaned up to deku just to hear what he was saying. 
the way you ended up in his bed that night was no mystery to either of you. 
except the sensual and sultry night you shared together didn’t end there — at every event, every occasion, where journalists were required to be present, you found yourselves gravitating towards one another. one moment you’d be sharing bedroom eyes with one another from across the room and the next deku would have you bent over in bathroom stalls, his hushed moans in your ear and his fingers deep in your mouth to keep you quiet.  
months went by and the sex didn’t stop, neither of you wanted it to. you made izuku feel a little bit whole again, you made him feel good and made him laugh all in the same breath. he didn’t just like it when you left your claim on his neck bordering the line of keeping your rendezvous a secret and letting the whole world find out — but he liked it when you stayed over and wore his shirts around his luxury apartment. or came to hang out with him at his private gym with a bag of cheat-day take-out katsudon and an earful of gossip from your office. 
deku really liked you, more than he should’ve for a girl who was meant to be just a fling, more than he should’ve for someone who didn’t have time in his day for a lover.
“did you get over me?” the hero pouts into the FaceTime call, watching you struggle to grab your luggage off of the conveyer belt in baggage claim. if he were there, he’d have gotten it for you by now.
despite not being anything serious to one another, izuku had made it a habit to weasel his way into your everyday life. you sent cute little good morning and goodnight texts to one another, along with other messages like ‘get home safe’ and ‘have a good day’ too. those text messages quickly escalated to phone calls once the green haired number one admitted to you that it’s hard to fight crime whilst looking for the right kao emoji to send you.
you roll your eyes, coy smile budding on the edges of your lips. “it’s only been two hours, izuku.” you say, finally managing to grab your bag before you head out to the main lobby of the airport.
one thing about that man, is that he’s clingy as fuck. all of your attention has to be on him or he’ll feel like he might die. with you being away for the weekend at a journalism conference instead of in his arms, izuku feels like he might burn the whole world down from the ground up. just to be near you.
either that or he’s just extremely pussy whipped. 
“streets are sayin’ you might sleep with that guy from your team while you’re there, is that true?” deku fires back, running a scarred hand through the mass of curls atop his head. he lets it run down to smooth over his face, peach fuzz starting to grow through — but you made him promise not to shave until the day after you got back. apparently his light stubble against your inner thighs made you cum so much—
“—i don’t even like him like that, you big baby,” you tell him matter of factly, cutting through his train of thought and bringing your phone up to your face once more to let emerald eyes peek down your sweater. “and i think he’d get the hint if he saw all these damn marks on my neck.” 
pink blooms underneath the freckles on midoriya’s cheeks at the sight of the purple hues decorating your neck and shoulders. he remembers the extra turtlenecks you had to pack because of it. “couldn’t help it, i needed to give you a reminder of what you’d be missing while you were away from me.” 
“you’re so dramatic, deku.” 
“oh, you wound me, angel.” he purrs into the mic with a sly grin, knowing that he’s affecting you just as much as he misses you. especially when you give him a pointed glare. izuku let’s the conversation wither out as you order yourself an uber that’ll take you the hotel. he can’t help but chuckle when you perk up and notice the amount of money he’s sent you to cover the costs of it. “yanno…” deku mumbles, resting his cheeks on his knuckles. “you’re like heaven away from hell to me.” 
you won’t admit how sexy he looks, even if izuku is all googly-eyed and soft for you. even if his forest green locks curl over his pretty eyes and hide them. it almost pisses you off. that he’s so blissfully unaware of how fucking pretty he is and how that mere fact manages to ruin you you even though you’re miles apart. “what’s hell, then?”
“my work. this city. this apartment, without you.” he says smoothly, filling your stomach with butterflies. izuku has a away about him that makes you feel like you’re his entire world and only his — but there’s never been any strings attached, you’ll never fully be his and he’ll very much be the nation’s hero (and dick) until someone manages to tie him down. 
“are you asking me to move in with you, izuku?” there’s no expectancy in your voice — you say it mostly as a joke because you have no idea how much the number one pines for you. how tonight, he’ll drink himself into a stupor with his friends and whine to them about how much he misses you. izuku may have changed on the outside, may be stronger and faster but he’s still that insecure teenager on the inside. 
he has to force his knees to stop knocking whenever you’re around. he finds himself swallowing the lump in his throat whenever he thinks about the possibility of you being with someone who isn’t you. he feels sick to the stomach and panics at the thought of losing you. you mess with deku’s head in the worst of ways and yet he finds himself wanting more. nevertheless, he smiles, loving how his name sounds on the sweet glaze of your lips. 
“you’ve got a place in my bed. you’re always here anyways.” 
“you’d never let me leave it, if you had a say in the matter.” 
“you’d never have to work again if you let the number one hero take care of you angel.” izuku sighs longingly, giving you his cutest pair of puppy dog eyes that never fail to make you swoon. “but you love your job.” 
“i do.” your uber pulls up and you reply curtly so you can properly greet your driver. they aid you with your suitcase and you slip your headphones on while in the back seat to keep your special conversation private. 
“do you love me?” he can’t help but ask. izuku is hopelessly enamoured by you, you’re like a virus that’s spread across his brain and controls his every thought or action. he needs you like his lungs need oxygen to breathe — you’ve changed him for the better, shown him that maybe he can have both work and luxury. a family and foundation. with you, if you’d want him. 
“izuku.” you warn, but playfully.
“so it’s true,” the hero drawls across the line in faux disappoint  though his eyes speak mischief. “you only like me for my cock ‘n my money.” you can practically hear the pout on his pretty plump lips. 
a fondness takes over you and you can’t help but squirm happily. “and your pretty boy smile,” you squeal cutely, filling midoriya with the same amount of fondness “don’t forget.”
“so you do love me.” 
“i can’t answer that until you ask what you want to ask me properly.” 
“alright then,” sitting up, deku grasps at his phone between shaky fingers and holds it above his head — giving you the perfect view of his freckled and scared (and chiselled) body. he chews on the swell of his lower lip, dancing around the question he knows he wants to ask. “angel. i want you. more than just a fling. i want you to be mine.” he blurts, closing his eyes so that his thoughts come easy and he can’t see you reject him.
midoriya doesn’t know what he would do if he lost you, he’s seen what losing your love has done to his friends. kirishima and his partner had almost broken up with each other recently. he’d be a mess in that situation.  izuku has faced too many hardships in his life, his career, to let this one good thing slip from between his fingers. 
“will you? be mine?”
he sees you poke your tongue into your cheek, laughing as you pretend to think. “i will, izuku. i want nothing more,” you coo. “keep my side of the bed warm. i’ll be home soon.” 
relief floods through deku’s body. “don’t be too long, gorgeous.” with a couple of blow kisses, he lets you go with the reminder to call him back once you’re settled in at the hotel (so he can pay for your room service). it’s only when you’re alone again that izuku realises he’d rip stars from the sky to be with you, pull the heavens right down to earth to be by your side.
you’re everything to izuku, and for you, he’d go to war with heaven. 
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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astrolynnworld · 5 months
Text
blue confessions
pairing: matt x reader
summary: matt confesses his feelings to the reader at the countdown of midnight
warnings: fluff! new years, confessions, love, romance.
a/n- should of been posted yesterday but oh well 🫠
word count: 979
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i do some last minute cleansing and preparations as i get ready to start my year anew and fresh.
nick had invited a few friends over so we can celebrate our last hours of 2023 together.
i finish getting ready and put on my coat so i can head over to the house.
everyone arrived at various times but i was one of the first people to get there.
i’ve been friends with the triplets for about 7 years now, at first i met nick but he soon after introduced me to his brothers who i’ve been close with every since.
especially matt, matt is really like my best friend. since day one, matt & i have have a different type of connection where we understand each other on a different level
he’s always been there for me, as i have with him.
“hey!! happy new year” nick says as he opens the door to let me in
“happy new year!” i say while going in for a hug
“wow it’s been in a long year.” i continue
“tell me about it.. a lot has happened this year, from hitting 5 million subs to going on tour again.. it’s been a crazy year”
“yup, sad to see it end but ready to watch it go” i laugh
from the corner of my eye i can see chris coming up the stairs
“oh hey chris! happy new year” i say as i walk in for a hug
“yup! new year.” he greets back, “where’s the food?” he proceeds to ask
“chris shut up. it’s on the way, you can wait.” nick answers annoyingly
i chuckle at their banter
“where’s matt?” i ask out loud
“he’s probably in still his room getting ready, you can go check on him if you want” nick responds
i nod and make my way down the hall to his room.
i do my little signature knock that i do so he knows it’s me
“come in!” he shouts from the door
i open the door and walk in to give him a hug
“heyyy matt!!” i gleefully say
“why are you so happy?” he asks with a confused face
“cause it’s new year’s eve!!” i respond with more enthusiasm
“big plans for 2024?” he asks
“no plans, just hopes and wants.” i respond
“yeah? what do you hope and want?” he asks again
“i kinda hope for a genuine connection and relationship..” i say shyly
“really?”
“yeah. i just feel like im tired of meaningless flings or situationships. we’re only getting older.. i want something real” i say
“i feel you 100%” he reassures
“yeah.” i look down, “but anyway! do you have anything you’re looking forward too?”
“not really. i just wanna let the year play out how it’s supposed too.” he replies
“yeah i see th-“ im interrupted as the door swings open
“our friends are here. stop hiding in the room” says nick
“we’re not hiding” matt says as he gets up to make his way to the living room
i follow shortly behind
after a few hours of party games and jokes, we just hang around to enjoy our last few minutes of 2023
i go in the kitchen to grab some water and shortly after, matt follows along
he nervously stands there in silence for a bit pretending to be occupied before striking up a conversation
“before the year end i kinda just wanted to let you know that i really do appreciate our friendship” he says sentimentally
“aww matt, that’s so sweet.”
“i know i don’t really say it often but i do love you. maybe in more ways than i should to be honest.” he looks down
“huh? what do you mean?” i ask
“well you’re the person i can count on the most, other than nick and chris. you’re always there for me when i need you to be and i feel like i relate you on a deeper level. you just understand me as a person and i love and appreciate you a lot for it.”
i go in for a hug, “matt i love you so much! you’re gonna make me cry”
he hugs back but doesn’t seem fulfilled
“matt what’s wrong? you seem unfinished?” i ask still embraced in his grasp
“cause that’s not all i want to say. i just don’t know how to say it” he says
suddenly we hear our friends in the other room start the new year countdown
“well you better hurry before the new year begins” i chuckle
“six.. five” we hear from the other room
i stare up as he looks down at me with his mouth agape as he prepares himself
“two.. one-“
“i’m in love with you” he spills
“HAPPY NEW YEAR” i hear from the other room as i stare at him in silence
“this is probably the worst timing but i really couldn’t keep it in anymore. i can’t go into another year feeling regret for every day that i don’t confess to you how i fee-“
i break his monologue with a kiss
“i love too matt” i look up at him with a smile
“are you being serious?” his confused look making me chuckle
“yess matt. of course i do! like you said, i understand you on a deeper level. and i know you understand me just as well. i enjoy every second i spend with you and i love being around you, you always make me feel special. i also kept my feelings tucked in but i love you just as much” i confess
he smiles and places a kiss on my lips while placing both hands on each of my cheeks
“can i be your boyfriend, y/n?” he whispers into my lips as he holds my cheeks with both hands
“i’d love nothing more” i smile up at him
———————————————————————
a/n- hope you guys enjoyed this cute little story
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live-laugh-lenney · 3 months
Note
Love love the arthur lingerie fic. What about george version
i've been waiting for this to come in simply so i could write something smutty for george... CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT.
george is a sucker for lingerie.
granted; he'd always tell her that she could wear a stained, faded and ratty-looking t-shirt, with holes in the armpits, and he would still find her to be the most beautiful woman in the world.
in the beginning few months of seeing one another, finding out what each others turn ons were, their love-making started off sweet and soft and they would always plan ahead and it would happen in the most sensual way... like it was something written in a romance novel.
yn would always present herself nicely. she would dress nice, she would spray her perfume on her neck, she made sure she had matching underwear on (that didn't have holes in or elastic hanging loose from the waistband). he always made sure he had a clean room with clean bedsheets on his bed, a candle burning to give the room a relaxing feel and a lovely smell and that everything was within arms distance so he didn't have to leave the bed.
but now?
a year and a half into their relationship, having sex was never made into a big deal. not much anymore. the nights they spent together were spent being lazy on the sofa in her flat (because he was always surrounded by the two arthurs and chris and neither of them could have privacy with them around), eating meals from their take-out, binge-watching a television show that they were in the middle of watching.
their 'motto' being if it happens then it happens.
but every now and then, to keep their love and their romance alive, they would have a night dedicated to them. birthdays were always guaranteed, anniversaries always ended up with them in bed, but on the nights when they just wanted to feel close to one another, she would always surprise him by wearing a new set of lingerie...
she's fresh from the shower.
having given herself an 'everything shower' - she washed her hair, she deeply scrubbed her face, she shaved her legs and exfoliated her skin so she was soft to the touch, she got rid of every inch of body hair she could find and managed to do so without nicking any of her skin - she changed into the new set of lingerie once she was completely dried off, letting the lace perfectly cup her breasts and sitting low on her pubic bone, knowing that she had an eager george waiting for her on the other side of the door.
she gave him the task of making the room feel ready and that is just what he did; he lit their wax-burners and put in a relaxing scent so it emitted smells so relaxing and soft, the flickering of the flames being enough light to fill the room, curtains drawn shut and he'd even gone as far as scattering rose petals upon the bed to show the romantic side to him.
she opens the door, the bathroom light flooding into the room for just a moment, sliding her finger down the switch and turning off the light and closing the door behind her, exposed to his wandering eyes and she can already feel her cheeks heating up.
"i can feel you staring."
"can you blame me?" he questions her, looking from his phone screen and making eye contact with her as she stood in the middle of the room, locking the gadget in his hand and placing it down on the table by his bedside, "you're so gorgeous."
she takes in his appearance; stretched out down the bed with tousled hair that he hadn't really dealt much with that day, a fringe almost forming from how he hadn't styled his hair like normal, his facial hair looking a lot more desirable to her than normal, wearing nothing but a deep teal t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts that peeked out from the hem of his tee, no socks on his feet (because he'd worn her slippers all day and refused to take them off), his ankles crossed at the end of the bed.
he takes in her appearance; a lilac-coloured, made from lace, lingerie set on her figure with her hair still damp but not completely sodden with water, painting her skin with droplets of water that glistened in the light of the candles flickering. and she smelt delicious and she looked fresh, a nervous smile on her lips as she looked at him.
"is this all for me?"
he smirks at his own question because he already knows the answer; her coming out in matching underwear was almost a given when they chose to switch off from the outside world and spend all evening in bed.
"you know it's for you, idiot."
"don't speak to me like that, baby."
she rolls her eyes playfully and he pushes himself up on the bed, the pillow squishing between his back and the headboard of the bed behind him, duvet scrunching up with his movements and she takes that as her moment to walk towards him. and he watches every step she takes towards him, every sway of her hips, and he couldn't take his eyes away from the way the swell of her breasts bounced every so slightly with the motion.
instead of clambering onto her side, she walks to his side. swinging her leg up and over his body and bringing herself to straddle him at his waist, legs either side of him.
"well, i like where this is going."
his hands cup her hips, the pads of his thumbs brushing over the naked skin of her hips and he's eager to dip his fingers into the band of her knickers and pull them away, revealing the one thing he was desperately eager to get a feel of. his eyes trailing from her eyes to her exposed collarbones and down the valley of her breasts which he just wanted to free from the constraint of her bra.
he could feel himself hardening beneath her, and she could feel his stiffening muscle against her thigh, forming an ache in her core for him that she really wanted to suffice. she couldn't let the night start so quickly and deep down, they both wanted to drag it out for longer than normal. they wanted to savour every passing second. drinking it in and feeling the emotions together.
"you really are so beautiful," he whispers softly, "i'm one lucky son of a bitch."
her fingers started playing with them hem of his t-shirt, moving it up ever so slightly to show a little bit of the skin of his stomach, boxers stretching across the growing hard-on that was seemingly bursting to be freed. and she wanted to. her fingers were there. but teasing him was something she loved to do.
"i think i'm the lucky one," she responds softly and he scoffs and his head shakes from side to side, "i am, george. i am. i'm just a nobody compared to you."
"nope," he shakes his head, "you're everything to me."
"oh, shut up," she retorts and pushes at his chest with her hands, soft enough to not hurt him, and he smiles warmly, "i am. you could have anyone and yet you chose me."
his hands wrap around her wrists and he brings them up to his neck, letting her bear her weight on his shoulders, a gentle groan escaping his lips as she shuffles on his crotch and brushes her warming core against his cock, bottom lip lodging between his teeth.
"i'm so in love with you."
"i love you," he smiles.
and yn's the one that closes the gap between the two of them. her lips melding together beautifully with him and her hands find his hair, fingers twisting between the strands at the nape of his neck, his hands dancing up her back. fingertips tickling her skin with the feathery touches he gives her bare skin, bringing her closer to him, chests flush together. their breathing was erratic, her hips moving slow motions, his fingers toying with the hooks of her bra in an eager attempt to tell her what she wanted without breaking the kiss.
and she lets him.
arching her back as a way of tell him to go for it and he doesn't need anymore than that to let both of his hands work on removing the bra from her chest, breaking the kiss for just a moment to pull it away from her, sliding it down her arms and throwing it aimlessly into the bedroom and hope it hit the floor instead of knocking anything from its place. chests rising and falling rapidly.
"i need you."
it's almost inaudible as it rolls off of her tongue. and he nods quickly, her fingers curling into the waistband of his boxers and she pulls them down just enough to free the boner that was leaking pre-cum and was twitching under her touch. his fingers working to slide down her knickers, without trying to tear the fabric or ruin them in his haste to feel her wrapped around him, and she adjusts herself on top of him so she can pull them down and chuck them towards the end of the bed.
as she throws them to the floor, his shirt comes off, revealing himself to her and she instantly feels her hands gravitate towards his bare shoulders, dragging her fingers down the skin of chest, with one hand continuing down his stomach until it wraps around his length, giving him a gentle few pumps and squeezes.
"so needy," she grins, "so so needy. for me?"
profanities rolling off of his tongue.
"always for you," he grunts out lowly, "see what you do to me?"
he can't stop himself from pushing his hips towards hers, feeling her legs tense as she feels his length slide between her folds, coming to a halt to allow her to adjust before his hips start the gentle thrusts he was desperate to make happen, her head rolling back as she let the deep and intense pleasure take over her body.
"you feel so good," he whispers and he lets her take over, grinding on his cock and twitching inside her every time she let out a whimper, the tip of his length reaching places he knew drove her crazy, her nails digging into his skin and leaving crescent indents behind, his arms wrapping around her waist and bringing her closer to his body, "so bloody good."
and he hides his face in her neck.
allowing her control gave him the opportunity to focus on giving her pleasure elsewhere on her body and his favourite place was her neck. leaving hickey after hickey behind down the stretch of skin below her ears and above her shoulders, nibbling and licking the skin as she lets him devour her.
"m'so close, baby," she hums and he brings his face from her neck, cheeks flush and his eyes hooded, lips swollen from being attached to her skin, and he can feel the burn in his belly that screamed how close he was to spurting out his release, "m'gonna-"
"wait for me," he begs, "wait for me, cum with me."
and she can feel her toes curling, her knees beginning to shake, her legs tensing. she quickens her pace, hearing his breathing getting caught in his throat, and his hands grip onto her hips to guide her at a pace that was getting him closer and closer, their eyes barely leaving each others. watery, hooded but lust-filled and darkening.
"m'gonna," he chokes off his sentence and lets his head drop to her chest, eyes clenching shut as he let his release fill her up, her own orgasm following behind him, squeezing him between the walls of her core, rhythm falling sloppy as she drops her head to his. her cheek resting upon the soft tufts of his hair. "fuck."
the room is filled with their panting, heavy breathing, and it smells like sex and the scent of candles melting, and they're seeing stars as they come down from their highs and allow themselves to fully regain their visions back to reality.
"i know what to buy you for christmas now."
"what?"
he grins lopsidedly up at her and she cups his face in her hands, thumbs catching the sweat coating his skin, soft and gentle.
"more lingerie," he says, "could go all night with you."
"give me half hour," she giggles softly, pressing a kiss to his lips and removing herself from his body, falling to the bed beside him, "we'll go for round two then."
thank you for reading if you managed to get this far! very thankful if you managed to make it to the end. george has such a special little place in my heart; i think it's split into four. my boyfriend has one, atv has the second, george has the third, arthur hill and chris can share the fourth... keep sending in your prompts/requests for arthur (and george!) and i'll slowly work my way through them during my days off from work and when i need a break from the locked in series. xx
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