#Also I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to make the coat thingy (I dunno what it’s called) work when tied around the waist | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kissesz · 2 months ago

Text

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

caitlyn kiramman x f!reader

warnings: see above, mdni. this is nothing but pwp. f!sub!reader. dom!caitlyn. mean!caitlyn. but it's soft. she's only a little mean. also a little flawed but like, who isn't? semi-toxic it is then. she's very sorry you guys are making up later. vaginal fingering. cunnilingus. orgasm denial (1x). biting. p.s. english is not my first language, please bear with my struggling.

read part 2 here

notes: first post, hi! if you love women as much as i do, consider sticking around! this was requested (and encouraged to post) by one of my dearest friends, em. i'll love you always. and to my sweetest readers who managed to make it this far, i cherish each and every one of you, stay wonderful. feel free to comment your thoughts, shoot me a message, i'm all ears.

(repost because i fucked up the formatting, whoops.)

Two rapid knocks on your door after the clock has struck two only meant a single thing as of late.

Caitlyn Kiramman.

A woman you grew to hold close and dear in the depths of your heart. She’s shining prestige wrapped in affluence and grace with sugared kindness that blooms a warmth in your chest. The concept of the unattainable envisioned by the masses. She’s soft with affection where she ought to be, sharp and cold where it benefits her.

And yet, here she was. At your doorstep, at this ungodly hour, like clockwork.

You didn’t know when, exactly, this became routine. Perhaps it began with stolen glances across crowded rooms, or fleeting conversations that swirled around in your mind far longer than they should have. Caitlyn had always been a topic of interest to you, carefully composed, her smiles perfectly rehearsed, her every move designed to captivate. And yet, somewhere along the way, she let you see behind the curtain. Not all at once, but inch by inch, until you could no longer remember how you managed to hold her at arm’s length to begin with.

Maybe it was the night she showed up on your doorstep for the first time, instead of you on hers, drenched from the rain, the mask of elegance she wore so well slightly cracked. You’d never seen her like that before: vulnerable, desperate for a moment of reprieve. She didn’t say why she came to you, but she didn’t have to. The answer was in the way her voice trembled when she finally spoke, in the way she clung to you like you were the only stable thing in a world determined to break her.

You should’ve questioned it. Should’ve hesitated before letting her in, before letting her slip past your defenses so easily. But you didn’t. Instead, you simply held her, murmured quiet reassurances against her temple as she exhaled shakily into your collarbone. As if you were someone she could turn to. As if you were hers to seek comfort in.

Or maybe it wasn’t one defining moment at all. Maybe it was the accumulation of a thousand small gestures: the way she reached for your hand without thinking, or how she never left your side without making sure you felt safe. The way her laughter softened in your presence, like it wasn’t meant for anyone else to hear. The way her fingertips brushed against yours in passing, always lingering for a fraction longer than necessary. The way her eyes sought you out first in every room, as if to silently ask, Are you alright? before anyone else even considered it.

You didn’t ask for her affection, and yet, here she was—woven into your life so tightly that you couldn’t imagine untangling her, even if you wanted to.

Now, she stood patient. Draped in a tailored fur-lined coat that framed her figure like it belonged in a gallery. Gold glinted in the low light—her jewelry, her dress, the faint shimmer of her makeup, all intentionally resembling starlit skies. Even in the dead of night, where most fall victim to obscurity, she was truly flawless.

You had tried, once, to ignore it—to turn away from the soft tap of her knuckles against your door, to pretend you didn’t care whether she came or not. That resolve had crumbled the moment she spoke your name through the threshold, hushed and laced with something dangerously close to yearning.

And so, like always, you found yourself standing before her, breath uneven, pulse traitorous.

Pushing down the handle, you stepped back to let the door fall ajar.

“You’re awake,” Caitlyn noted, her tone soft and conversational, though her sharp eyes certainly betrayed her. She offered a smile, which you returned in kind. It was familiar, comforting. You let your eyes take her in, committing every detail of her to memory as if she’d forever be gone by the next sunrise.

Leaning against the doorframe, you let your head rest against the pale ivory of the wall. It was late. “Barely.”

Her smile widened slightly, but she said nothing, merely stepping forward as though your presence in the doorway was an invitation. Her arms enveloped you, as did the scent of her perfume: something vanilla with an edge of spice, curling around the slightest of florals. You nuzzled into the crook of her neck, closing your eyes to savour the sensation of being in her proximity. Her hands came to rest on your back, pulling you impossibly closer.

There was something unbearably vicious about the way she held you. Like she knew you needed it more than she did. Like she could sense the weight of her absence pressing into your ribs, suffocating, unbearable. She never said it aloud, never boasted of it, but you felt it in the way her fingers curled against the fabric of your shirt, just barely tightening. The smallest tell.

A soft sigh squeezed itself from your lungs as you parted, and she tilted up your chin to hold your gaze for a second seemingly never ending. When Caitlyn decided she had admired you enough, (but only for the time being) she clashed your lips together in a kiss so deep you feared you’d drown.

That happened a lot with her. The incessant fear you could easily lose yourself.

She kissed like she had no intention of stopping—like she wanted to steal every thought, every protest, every inch of hesitation until all that remained was her. Until she was carved into your bones.

Gentle teeth then nipped at you, snapping you out of whatever reverie you were beginning to spiral into as your breaths grew heavier.

“I missed you,” was whispered into the oxygen-depleted air between you by Caitlyn, as she ever so slowly started inching towards your couch. Those three words floated, so quiet, yet so heavy. The depth of them crashed over you like a wave, making your thoughts hazy as you struggled to breathe.

The worst part? You believed her.

You always believed her.

It was a dangerous thing, the way she could make you forget the ache of waiting. How she could saunter into your life after days—weeks—without word, and with one look, one touch, have you willing to unravel at her feet.

Pulling you along with her, seeing as you didn’t protest, she moved with an ease that suggested she’s done this countless times. Familiarized herself with your space enough to know you’ll trust her to guide. You didn’t want to admit you’d do so regardless.

But she knew.

Gods, she always knew.

There was no hiding from her. No veiling the way your body responded to her, no pretending she didn't have this hold over you. She saw every flicker of reluctance, every frantic breath, and she made it her mission to unravel you. To pull apart the pieces of you that were too stubborn to fall in line.

As the back of your knees hit the edge of the couch, she pushed you downwards, your back now against plush velvet. Caitlyn pulled back, her lips puffy and swollen as if mirroring yours, pupils dilated as if high out of her mind on the taste of you. Her fingers skimmed your skin like fire, searing a path from your collarbones, down between your chest, before finally finding purchase on the sash of your robe, pulling and watching as it fell open, mesmerized. You wanted to say something. To stop her before you lost yourself entirely in her. But the words never came. How could they when she was looking at you like that? Feral, tinged with something much deeper than desire. Her hands found your waist next, fingers pressing in just enough to make you gasp, to make you arch instinctively into her touch. She knew you so well. Knew exactly how to make you bend to her, how to make you fall apart at her will.

And then, she kissed you again.

This time, it was different. Less tender than before, more demanding—insistent. Her lips crashed against yours with the intensity of a storm, and you couldn’t help but meet her with equal fervor. She tasted like whiskey and something richer, something intoxicating, and you drank it in as if it were the last thing you'd ever have.

Your pulse raced as she pulled back, but only enough to leave a teasing space between you, enough to make you ache. She took a staggering, deliberate breath as she admired the mess she'd made of you.

Her voice, low and perilous, cut through the quiet. "I want you," she whispered, her lips barely brushing against yours, three words that made your heart race with an intensity you weren’t sure you were prepared for.

Messy, so messy as sly fingers snaked themselves around your breast, painstakingly slowly closing, increasing the pressure of which they’ve captured it. Your pulse fluttered, and Caitlyn swallowed the deliciously high-pitched moan threatening to spill from your velvety lips. Once only a string of saliva connected the memories of your kiss, she dove headfirst into the fragile skin of your neck, sucking and biting on it like a predator starved. The gloss of her lips smeared against you colorless, only blooming hues from beneath by her ministrations contrasted against your skin tone. A myriad of carmine and crimson, dancing in spots and dots of darker and lighter.

Flexing one knee upward you pressed it against her side, asking, the burn in your abdomen pooling deeper—dripping molten in carnal need. A pathetic keen was what you could offer as a cry for salvation, the state of your desperation swirling into and sweetening your blood. Caitlyn huffed a sound akin to a giggle, reveling in your sounds reverberating around her heart, savouring every inch of you as her hands stilled, and moved to trace down your sides. Deliciously tingling shivers were her reward, only, the true euphoria of eye-rolling breathlessness rested lower, between your thighs.

Though not before she spellboundly locked your eyes together, to witness your fall from grace, had her hand made the descent against your glistening folds.

Caitlyn Kiramman was clever with her fingers. She was an excellent shot, after all. Manicured, slender, long and expressive—from the very start she delighted in curling and waving them around unnecessarily seductively every chance she got. Intertwining and lacing them around the neck of a wine glass, door handles, your shoulders, all while you fell enchanted, and far down a wicked fantasy of her digits buried inside of you.

Accompanying a sharp, satisfied intake of breath from her, they sunk impossibly deep with no warning. A sight to behold and cherish for her you were, as an obscene whine loud enough to wake the city, followed by a filthy whimper that made her want to tear you apart, tumbled from your parted, lovebitten lips. Her fingers picked up a pace from which they never slowed, hooking up to caress your saccharine inner walls as they tightened around her in order to suffocate.

And oh it was pristine unadulterated ecstasy when her thumb found its leverage on your clit, drawing tight circles around it as if chasing and ruthlessly shoving you towards your orgasm.

“Ngh- Cait- ah-”

Pitiful little thing you were, spine contorted unnaturally, breath heaving, hair sprawled beneath you as you gazed up through glossy eyes at the harbinger of your exhilaration, only to find soulful azures staring lovingly back at you.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” Her ambery tones of cashmere and cardamom suffocated you, dripping your senses in a glowing warmth, nuanced by a dusky tint in the way she formed her syllables. An unspoken truth between you was interrupted by yet another mewl, alongside a fumbling hand clutching at her wrist in silent command to keep going.

No perplexion in the fact she obliged, even going as far to lean further down in order to languidly lick a stroke up the expanse of your breast, encircling a nipple between greedy lips. Your toes curled as the sudden absence of air in your lungs hit you like the first note of a symphony, the kind that built steadily but constantly, keeping you blind with pleasure as it swept you into its crescendo. Sweet release was within reach, your restless heartbeat a telltale sign and the unabashed squelching sounds of your core a reassurance nonpareil. Frenzied, as you are done apart, hands now pawing at the sheets—it took only a particularly sharp thrust of her finger upward to have you almost toppling and falling over the edge.

But as soon as you felt it, it was gone. Hollow was the space inside of you, squeezing and tightening against grueling, agonizing nothing, as all stimuli were robbed of you.

Whipping your head upwards with a cry akin to that of wounded prey, you sank your nails into Caitlyn's wrist. Something livid and bewildered flickered in your eyes, alongside the undeniable flow of salty tears that threatened to spill lest you blinked them back.

“Why? Why did you-”

Cruel, devilishly cruel and vile was the laugh that tore its way through her throat, smoky vetiver strangling bygone syrupy spice and comfort. It was utterly amusing to her how melodramatic you could act, like this was disturbingly traumatic to that poor tiny heart of yours. Shiny, pearly white teeth glinted beneath the dull lighting as she yanked you closer by your calves.

Her mouth made direct contact with your slit in a split second—an experimental lick descending onto your swollen clit had you sobbing out her name like a mantra meant for worship.

You didn’t just say it—you felt it, like you were kneeling at the altar of her touch, drowning in the devotion she’d drawn from you, effortlessly.

“Mhm, good girl.” Her humming vibrated against you, the praise spilling from her lips resembling cloyingly sugar-saturated ambrosia. Doubling down on her efforts her grip was bordering on hurtful, tongue curling just at the right angle to have you lightheaded, lost, wailing and whining as the knot in your stomach threatened to unfurl. Though, there now lacked a sense of serene to wash over you as her threat of denial wasn’t foreign to you anymore.

And what does one do when they find themselves needing more—when they’re lost in uncertainty, fear gnawing at the edges of their thoughts? Pray, of course.

Opening your mouth for stray honeyed pleas of "Please," easily softened her to devoted compliance. It was music to her ears, absolutely addicting. There was a certain cadence to your voice, trembling with need, with the kind of vulnerability that made her all the more ravenous, swirling her tongue around a spot that made you see stars.

It didn’t take long for you to come undone with a pornographic moan—blinding white bliss abruptly veiling you, your thighs quivering and breath held, every drop of your juices diligently lapped up by the woman still nestled in the midst of your legs.

Closing your eyes, the rise and fall of your chest was the sole thing keeping you grounded. And when it fell silent, no more Caitlyn caressing you merciful and gentle: porcelain cracked and glass shattered as in response to your comedown. Your stares locked, now wide open, both of you suspended in the stillness.

Caitlyn didn’t rush to move, her presence still coiling around you like a weight. Her fingertips brushed against your skin one last time, slow and deliberate, before she shifted, finally distancing herself. The warmth of her body, the comfort of her touch, seemed to vanish all at once, leaving a cold void in its wake. She sat up, taking her precious time, as though her every movement was meant to torment you. You couldn’t help but watch, unable to break the trance she’d mercilessly dragged you into. She didn’t look back at you immediately, but when she did, her eyes held something—a tenderness, yes, but also something unreadable. You couldn’t tell if she pitied you or if she simply treasured the downright control she had over you.

“It’s late, isn’t it?” she said, a casual observation that somehow felt like a statement heavier than whatever was anchoring your states of mind. She tilted her head, her gaze now piercing, but there was no harshness there, just that sharp, calculating precision you had come to recognize. “You should sleep. You really should.”

But you couldn’t just let her leave like that, couldn’t let her slip away when the air between you still crackled with the remnants of everything that had just passed. You opened your mouth, ready to say something—anything—to pull her back. Maybe beg her to stay a little longer, maybe ask her why she was so calm, so composed when every part of you felt exposed and desperate.

But before you could speak, she was there, leaning over you once more, her presence surrounding you like a blizzard unforgiving, frigid and bitter. Tilting your face up to meet hers, her eyes locked onto yours with a force magnetic that made it impossible to look elsewhere.

“Don’t,” she whispered, her voice hushed, silencing. Sour and acrid was the tone that reprimanded—shut you up like one would a child. There was no room for argument, no room for anything but what she allowed.

Her lips pressed against yours with an intensity that stole the breath from your airways, quieting the words that had formed on your tongue, now buried and dead. It was a kiss that took, that owned, that coerced you to forget everything else. You melted into it, no resistance left, just the feeling of her mouth against yours, a reminder of the untainted power she held over you. Her lips were plush, but the kiss was anything but. It was an imprint, a claim, and before you could even process the heat of it, she was pulling away, leaving you gasping with a faint, satisfied smile dancing at the corner of her lips.

“You know where I am if you need me,” she said, her voice drifting like a whisper through corners secluded, a promise without a guarantee.

And just like that, she stood. The couch shifted slightly as she moved, her body vanishing from your sight as she made her way to the door. You didn’t speak. You didn’t move. All you could do was watch her, feeling the sorrow of her absence the moment she stepped away.

With one last lingering glance, Caitlyn reached for the door, grazing the handle. She paused, as though considering something, and then her voice broke the quiescence once more.

“Rest,” she said softly, her words like velour—slipping through the air discreetly. “You’ve earned it.”

She was gone.

©️ kissesz

963 notes · View notes

bvidzsoo · 18 days ago

Text

A world in your colours

𐀔 Cherry Blossom, March Event 𐀔

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Daycare teacher!Kang Yeosang x Florist!reader

𐀔 Warning: none 𐀔 Word count: 6.2k 𐀔 Rating: sfw 𐀔 Genre: fluff, soulmates: you see all the colours for the first time when you meet your soulmate, strangers to lovers, fated together 𐀔 Summary: A world through the faint hues of your soulmate's eye colour isn't the most colourful life to live. Approaching twenty-five and still being unable to see all the colours the world has to offer has you worried that you'll never meet your soulmate. Doubts and questions riddle your mind day and night, but at least you have the one thing that makes you happy no matter what, your little flowers. You can't actually see their colours, but you can imagine their vibrancy. And then, one day when you're making a bouquet for a lovely man, your whole world gets covered in an overwhelming amount of colour, rendering you stunned.

A/N: Here it is, our lovely Yeosang's drabble. I love this guy and I love this little fluffy story, man, I was smiling so widely while writing these two, they are so endearing. Despite writing a florist!au...I cannot take care of my plants for the life of me, even though I really love them...especially pretty little flowers, but oh, well, I'll have to get better at taking care of them once I move out...I hope you enjoy this drabble and let me know what you thought of it, your feedback is much appreciated! Enjoy! ^^ divider @cromernet

𐀔 Join the taglist here! 𐀔

Taglist: @thecarnivaloflies @faeriehwa @mingiatz @kang-ulzzang @xylatox

@mintchocolatto @mintsugarr93 @solaris-amethyst @foxinnie8 @marvolos

@licityvibes @amoryeonjun @nkryuki @matchahintonagar @k1ttym0nkey

@justconniez @ateezswonderland @lemonkait00 @youcanstayalways @cristy-101

@my-atiny-kookie-rkive @wooyouz @cosmicrecs

Colour, as defined by everyone’s best friend, Wikipedia, is the visual perception based on the electromagnetic spectrum. Although colour is not a fundamental attribute of matter itself, the way we perceive it is intricately tied to how an object absorbs, reflects, and emits light, as well as the subtle play of interference within those light waves. That was another sentence you had long ago read on the internet, and it stuck with you. Your peers have always considered you a bit strange for your obsession with colours, but then again, in a world that was painted mostly grey with hues of brown, amber, and copper, you couldn’t help but obsess over it. It wasn’t by choice that you couldn’t see all colours…if it were up to you, you’d coat your whole life in nothing but a mess of bright and light pastels. You sighed at the reoccurring thought as you walked over to another plastic vase to grab a purple Lily to add to the bouquet. You double-checked the label before grabbing it, though; you didn’t need another embarrassing incident today.

The sole reason as to why you couldn’t see colours yet was because you hadn’t met your soulmate yet. In a way, it was something you were glad for because you’d know for sure who your soulmate was. You’ve read stories written by famous novelists who fantasized about a world where your soulmate's first words directed at you would be inked into your skin, and you wondered whether that felt as magical as the author made it seem. What if five different people said the same exact words to you that were on your wrist? What then? How would you decide which was your soulmate? You didn’t like thinking about that, though, content with the reality of your world. Sure, it was a bit depressing and quite literally grey, but it also brought a sense of excitement and anticipation with it. Whenever you allowed yourself to fantasize about the moment when you’d meet your soulmate, your cheeks would burn hot, and your heart would race. You’d close your eyes and try to imagine all the vibrant colours that suddenly coloured your surroundings.

You figured it would feel overwhelming at first, making you sentimental or sending you into a panicked sobbing. You thought it would blind you and make you feel nauseous as all the colours would be suddenly as vivid as an explosion in the distance that was now right under your nose. You thought you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself anymore, that you’d need a second to piece your thoughts back together, to make sense of the situation, to tell yourself that everything was okay. That’s how you imagined you’d react, but you were always a person full of surprises, even to yourself. Besides, diving too deep into this topic always leaves you with a sour aftertaste. You were twenty-five, and your world was still gloomy, devoid of the warmth and brightness everyone around you gushed about. It wasn’t unusual to be still single by twenty-five, but most people have found their soulmates back in high school. Your parents, for example, were even luckier than that and met in middle school; their worlds suddenly filled with all colours. You were jealous of them, but you also admired them profoundly.

Their love was deep and unlike anything you’d seen before. Their respect for each other went even deeper than their love, kindness and devotion, just a few sentiments that could be added to their plate when cherishing one another. You wished for a gentle love like theirs, for quiet moments where no words had to be uttered to be understood, for genuine kindness and laughter that filled the longing in your chest. You smiled at your customer as you tied her bouquet together, getting an excited grin back in return.

“Oh, this is gorgeous!” She exclaimed as you grabbed a little butterfly sticker, searching for the perfect leaf to press onto, “My little one will love this!”

You were happy that the mother was excited; seeing your clients excited and happy over the flowers you loved so much always filled your chest with warmth. You imagined being with your soulmate felt like that, too. You handed the bouquet over to the woman once you were done with it, accepting her card when she said she had no cash.

“I’ve never seen anyone combine these colours so beautifully before,” The woman mused to herself as her eyes took in the plethora of flowers, a mixture of white, yellow, pink and even a little bit of purple in there, “You’ve got an artistic eye for it.”

You felt proud at the praise as you handed the card back, grinning at the lady as you bowed your head in gratitude, “That’s a lovely compliment, thank you so much!”

You didn’t have the heart to tell the lady that you had no idea what the flowers looked like in colour, whether the pink bow you’d tied to keep the bouquet together matched with the flowers you had chosen. The lady left soon after as she was in a rush, and you sighed, looking around the flower shop. You could tell the walls were a lighter orange, the shades a dark brown and probably your soulmate’s exact eye colour since the colour was so rich in hue. You’ve always wondered if the other colours were just as beautiful as the ones you could lightly see from time to time—or more pronounced if they were the same colour as your soulmate’s eyes—and your conclusion had always been that, yes, no matter what nuance or hue, all of it was just as gorgeous.

You thought of colours as you thought of flowers, special and unique in their ways, distinguishable and rather easy to remember once you learned their properties. Flowers have been your escape since a young age when your preschool teacher tasked you with growing little beans, encouraging you to name them and speak to them daily. After that, you had asked your parents whether you could try and cultivate your little garden in your room, and once they’ve given you the go, you had never turned back. The flower shop that you were working at wasn’t yours just yet, but its owner—a lovely middle-aged woman—was considering passing it on to you once she had grown old and tired of her business. You’d gladly take over it as you had no big plans for your future. You were content living in the place you had been born, surrounded by friends and family. You realised you were luckier than most that you could live a comfortable and fulfilled life, and that’s why you always made sure to give back to your community, even if it was something little.

You were just about to walk over to the vase with sunflowers when the doorbell chimed, signalling a new customer. You plastered a small smile to your lips and straightened your back, welcoming the man who had decided to walk inside your store, “Hello, how may I help you?”

“Hi, uhm, it’s my mother’s birthday today.” The man spoke, surprising you with his deep voice. His features were soft and relaxed; it was an unexpected juxtaposition, “Her favourite flowers are Magnolias; do you have any of that?”

You nodded your head, walking over to the vase placed right by the entrance. They were fresh as they had come in just today, so they were gorgeous as they were in bloom, “Silk Magnolias are mostly used for bridal bouquets, but I can make you a simpler one if you want me to.”

“I’d love that, please.” The man said as you two looked at each other, and for some unexplainable reason, your heart skipped a beat. You averted your eyes shily and crouched down to grab three Magnolias, your long skirt brushing past your ankles.

“They go well with Gardenias; would you like me to add some of those too?” You stood back up, realising that since the bouquet would be all white, you could add a deep red coloured ribbon to it, or perhaps even a soft pink one. The challenge, however, would be to find the right nuances since your coworker messed up some of the colours after her shift. You’d be embarrassed to ask the man for a little guidance, and that would be also you assuming that he had found his soulmate already, which would be a bit rude as you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. Due to you being unable to see all colours, everything inside the store was labelled with little post-it notes, bold letters stating the colour of the flowers. With that also came the shelf behind the front counter always being organised after a system that you had already memorised, no need to read the labels anymore. All ribbons and coloured foils were placed in their designated spot so that you’d know which one was which colour, but your coworker had mixed up the black and blue ones, resulting in you embarrassing yourself not even half an hour ago when a customer asked for blue ribbons and you had given them black ones. You quickly fixed your mistake, and the man wasn’t even upset, but your cheeks still burned with shame as now the man knew you still hadn’t met your destined partner.

“Uh, if you think it’ll be pretty, sure.” The man said, walking to the counter as you went behind it to organise the bouquet for him, “May I ask…what colour it’ll be?”

You froze for a second before you hummed, going over to the Gardenias to grab two of them, “White, if that’s alright.”

The man nodded eagerly, letting his green briefcase rest on the counter where it didn’t invade your space, “That’ll be perfect, my mother loves the colour white.”

You smiled as you glanced up at the man, and somehow it seemed as if the sunrays shining through the window were brighter, creating a white haze around him. He looked really pretty with his curly hair falling over his forehead, curling around his cheekbones, and you noted its copper hue with slight admiration. Afraid you were starting to stare, you lowered your eyes and started working on the man’s bouquet. You first made sure all the flowers were fresh and in perfect shape, undamaged by transport, and then cut into the ends a bit. Then you held the Magnolias together, arranging the Gardenias in between and adding a few dark green weeds for a better aesthetic. The handle of the tape was almost black, and you found yourself humming a melody as you taped the flowers together just until you’d tied the ribbon around it. You pulled the bouquet away from your face and felt the customer’s eyes on your face, almost insistent, but you kept working with a small smile on your face, catching a glance at your bright orange nails. You remembered your mother saying that colour might be a bit too bright, but since you couldn’t see it well as it was dulled to your eyes, you decided to still go for it. It was fun, after all.

You turned then and looked at the shelf behind you, tilting your head in wonder. There was the blue ribbon that had embarrassed you earlier, small white dots decorating the fabric, and you found it cute how the pastel colours blended nicely together. You glossed over the black and blue ribbons, they wouldn’t make the white pop right now. You needed something intense and eye-catching—like the burgundy fabric that would look gorgeous in contrast with the white flowers! You grinned triumphantly and grabbed it off the shelf, turning around to tie it tightly around the bouquet, making sure the flowers didn’t move while you worked on making the perfect bow, not too small nor too big. Your chest felt warm, and you were aware of your cheeks burning, but you couldn’t decide whether it had gotten warmer inside the shop or if it was the man’s eyes following your every move that made you feel shy. Nonetheless, you smiled brightly as you raised the bouquet and extended it towards the man. His eyes were slightly wide as they frantically searched your face, and you felt a little disheartened as you couldn’t decipher what his reaction meant. Was your bouquet really that gorgeous, or did he perhaps not like it and wasn’t sure how to voice his thoughts?

“Oh,” You muttered, eyebrows slightly raised as you glanced at the man’s burgundy red hair and then at the ribbon, “The ribbon matches your hair! What a coincidence…”

Your smile froze on your face, your heart stilling in your chest. The ribbon matches your hair, kept repeating in your head like a distant echo as your fingers slightly trembled, your eyes running all over the man in a panic. He was taller than you, a bit buff underneath his dark green suit, tailored to fit his body prettily. His necktie was a light orange, a lighter shade that still matched his beautifully dyed hair, his lips a cherry red much like the small heart-shaped discolouration on his left temple. Your breath stuttered in your chest as your hands fell to the counter, mindful of the bouquet in your hands still.

“You’re…”

“I am.” The man sounded just as winded as you did, a huff of disbelief leaving his mouth, “Your socks are so bright, they match your nail colour.”

Your bottom lip trembled as you laughed, looking down at your socks that peeked out from underneath your skirt. They were bright, really bright actually, a neon colour worse than your nails. You had no idea you even owned them, and you wondered why your mother had never said anything about them.

“The bouquet will be 15€.” You said as you typed the amount into the cash register, and the man nodded, opening his dark green briefcase.

“Right, thank you so much.” The man said, fumbling with his wallet as he opened it, pressing the crumpled-up money on the counter. He reached out for the bouquet but hesitated slightly, and you averted your eyes as your fingers brushed together. You had a feeling it wasn’t by accident, given that the man’s cheeks also flushed pink, eyes abashed, “My mother will love it.”

“Happy birthday to your mother.” You found yourself saying as the man pressed his wallet into the small pocket of his suit jacket, briefcase in his firm grip. You didn’t want him to leave, not yet, but you couldn’t keep him here all day…it was his mother’s birthday, after all.

“I’ll come by tomorrow, same time as today. When does your shift end?” Your heart skipped a beat as the man stumbled into the open front door as he was walking backwards, his eyes not leaving you for one second. You chuckled and bit your bottom lip, playing with the money in your hands.

“I have the morning shift; I’ll be ready to go by the time you make it here.” The man’s lips pulled into a wide smile, lighting his whole face up. He looked gorgeous, and you felt breathless as you watched him wave at you and almost get stuck on the door handle, his cheeks flushing pink again as he finally left the store with haste. He glanced back inside through the huge window, and you told yourself to hold it together until you couldn’t see him anymore, and then came the squeals you could barely contain in front of him, your heart racing a mile. You had to take a seat and press your forehead against the cool counter, and even that didn’t help the warmth from spreading throughout your body as if winter was finally over and the first spring sun was here to warm you up from the inside out. That man was your soulmate. Your fingers trembled as you raised your head, blinking hard.

The world was so…different. Everything had colour, absolutely everything, and you didn’t know how to react to it all. The counter, which you thought was a light green or blue, was actually a cute beige colour, the stickers stuck to it a whirlwind of bright colours. You traced them before looking back up, eyes taking in all the beautiful flowers. You couldn’t believe that you could see the yellowness of the Sunflowers, a little taken back that they looked mustard coloured…or was that right? You hadn’t seen mustard yet, so you couldn’t tell; you’d have to test your theory out once you got home. The Lilies, the purple ones, left you in awe of their beauty, and you couldn’t help but walk over to the blue Orchids and trace their petals with a fond smile. You wondered who the man was as you looked out the window dreamily, your heart racing in your chest uncontrollably. He was a gorgeous person, and he also seemed kind; you couldn’t wish for tomorrow to come faster. You giggled to yourself and hurried back behind the counter, hands shaking as you dialled your boss in your excitement, too eager to tell her that you could see all the colour around you now.

Your hands trembled as you clocked out, locking eyes with your grinning co-worker. She was a bouncing ball of nerves, even more excited than you over the fact that your soulmate was supposed to show up any time now. You chewed on your bottom lip and smoothed down your kaki long skirt, your black blouse thin so you had to cover up due to the morning chill. Your warm and long coat was a bright orange, and on your way home yesterday, you had realised that orange was slowly becoming your favourite colour. Judging based on your wardrobe, littered in colours you had no idea even existed, you had concluded that even unknowingly, your world had always been infused with colours. Your mother cried, and your father jumped around in happiness when you told them about this new development, right while having dinner, accidentally slipping up by saying sunflowers were definitely not mustard coloured. You had wanted to tell them in a cosier setting, perhaps in a cuter way too, but what was done was done. Your mother then made you call your grandmother, who was groggy since she was getting ready for bed, but the soft smile on her lips told you that she was just as happy for you as your parents, co-worker, and boss.

“What was your first impression of him?” Your co-worker smiled brightly at you, fiddling with a ribbon she had difficulty tying around the thick bouquet.

“He’s just…he seems very sweet and caring.” You heard yourself saying, chewing on your bottom lip as your eyes were glued to the huge window. He was supposed to be here a few minutes ago, but then again, he hadn’t specified an exact time when he’d stop by, “His features are really delicate, but he looks manly still. I love his hair, though; it’s so rich in colour.”

“What colour is it?” Your co-worker followed up with her question quickly, too invested to pay any attention to the bouquet she was supposed to finish in five minutes.

“Burgundy, and he has a matching—” You gasped, eyes widening as the man was here. He wore a tailored suit again, a beaver brown—you’d stayed up until a very late hour last night, researching colours and hues, shades and tones, trying to memorise them all in your rush of excitement—and his tie was a darker orange. Your heart was racing furiously as it felt impossible to look away; your eyes met when the man arrived by the door. His eyes were wide, and his cheeks slightly flushed a light pink colour, and you took a deep breath before you turned to wave at your co-worker. She looked stunned, eyes frozen on the man before her grin spread wider, ushering you out the shop with a squeal. It was embarrassing, but you were more preoccupied with walking straight without having your knees give out as you watched the man open the door for you.

“Thank you.” You lowered your eyes as he hummed, stepping aside to make space for you, “Hi…uhm, it’s lovely seeing you again?”

You wanted to facepalm yourself for making it sound like a question, but the man didn’t seem bothered as he chuckled, ducking his head. His suit jacket was nicely folded over his arm, his white shirt clinging to his body. It had gotten significantly warmer by noon, but you were someone who easily got cold, so you didn’t take your coat off.

“Hi, it’s really nice seeing you, yeah.” Then, the man cleared his throat and looked up with more confidence on his face, “I didn’t introduce myself yesterday. I was honestly too stunned to function properly. My name is Kang Yeosang.”

You extended your hand to shake Yeosang’s hand, your soulmate, and blushed when your skin made contact with his. His palm was bigger than yours, and his skin was really soft, but his grip was confident and strong without hurting you. You told him your name, and his eyes sparkled under the bright sunlight, and you felt yourself unable to look away. Yeosang was gorgeous; seldom did you see a man like him. It felt slightly surreal that he was your soulmate, and you felt extremely lucky all of a sudden. You didn’t know him yet, but something told you he was an amazing person.

“Where would you like us to go?” Yeosang’s question reminded you of the fact that you were still standing outside the flower shop, quite blocking the entrance actually, and you flushed darker when you realised your co-worker was most likely watching the two of you.

“Maybe for a stroll in the park just there?” You pointed across the street, the gates of the lovely park in the heart of the city visible. Yeosang nodded enthusiastically and motioned in front of himself as a way to tell you to lead the way. As you took off, you found yourself walking as close by Yeosang’s side as you could without making it weird, and your heart hadn’t stopped racing ever since you saw him. There was something magnetic about the man, about your soulmate, and you felt like you couldn’t last another day without being in his presence. Matter of fact, you didn’t want to be since you’ve waited twenty-five years for this moment.

“Would you like some coffee? Or tea?” Yeosang asked as you two noticed the small coffee stand at the same time and you hummed, looking at Yeosang a little sheepishly.

“I don’t like coffee, but I really like tea.” Yeosang chuckled, something like endearment appearing on his face as he grabbed your elbow gently and veered you away from the oncoming crowd of teenagers.

“That’s funny. I don’t like tea but basically live off of coffee.” You chuckled too, your eyes meeting as Yeosang walked you two over to the coffee stand. There weren’t a lot of tea options, so you settled for wild berries, glad that the vendor had some homemade honey for you to mix with your tea instead of sugar. Yeosang asked for a simple black coffee with ice, a bit of milk and one spoonful of sugar, and you found yourself reciting his order in your mind until you could recall it easily.

With your drinks in your hands, you headed for the crosswalk, having to wait since it was red for the pedestrians. The street was bustling with many people at this hour, and not everyone was as self-aware as you—and it seemed like Yeosang, too—so they either didn’t look where they walked or purposefully pushed people around to get further to the front. You had to make space for a guy on his phone, not paying even a little bit of attention to those around himself as you, too, could hear the music coming from his headphones. You tried to make space for everyone, but before you could step behind Yeosang, you felt fingers sneaking between yours, a warm palm pressed against yours as you were gently guided into Yeosang’s side. His eyes were still sparkling, his cheeks were red—not as red as the discolouration on his temple—and you thought for a second you could hear his rapidly beating heart.

“Is this okay?” He asked almost too quietly for you to hear with the honking cars and loudly conversing people, but you did catch it, and you nodded eagerly, making sure to squeeze Yeosang’s hand for extra confirmation.

“Yes! More than okay, actually.” You sounded more confident than you felt, and Yeosang was suddenly smiling widely, his cheeks pulled up and making him look the softest. Before you could do something as crazy as lean up and nuzzle your nose against his, the light turned green, and you followed the crowd, crossing the street. The walk to the park’s entrance was quiet, your hands fitting perfectly into each other’s, and you revelled in the comfort of it all as Yeosang occasionally glanced at you. The park wasn’t as packed as the sidewalks, and you could freely roam around without bumping into anyone, and yet, your hands stayed intertwined.

“So,” You spoke up, taking a sip of your tea before you faced Yeosang while walking, “What do you do for work? I’m a florist, but you know that much about me already.”

Yeosang hummed, facing you with that adorable small smile on his lips, “I’m a daycare teacher. The school isn’t far from here. You actually saved me yesterday. I was running late for my mother’s birthday dinner, and I thought there weren’t any flower shops close by.”

You chuckled, veering Yeosang away from the flock of birds that didn’t look too friendly, “Did your mother like the bouquet?”

“Yes, she loved it, thank you.” Yeosang then stopped, tilting his head with furrowed eyebrows, “I told them…my parents…that I found my soulmate, and they, well, uhm, they want to meet you. I know it’s too soon, and I asked them to wait a little bit until we’ve gotten to know each other, but they are just too impatient and excited to finally meet you.”

You felt your heart swell and almost burst out of your chest as your smile grew into a wide grin. You didn’t even realise it, but you had taken a step closer to Yeosang, smiling up at him so widely that your cheeks ached. Yeosang looked stunned for a second before he returned your smile, biting his lower lip as he averted his gaze down to the ground, “I’d love that, but I want to do what makes you feel comfortable. If you think we should wait, then we will; if not…just let me know when it’s good for you and your parents.”

Yeosang nodded, his eyes finding yours, “You are so kind.”

“You are too, Yeosang.” You chuckled, and it was your time to look down. Yeosang seemed to feel proud over that compliment before he took off, guiding the two of you through the park.

“I don’t feel like we are rushing, but I think it’s more responsible if we go on a few dates first.” You felt like a high school girl, wanting to squeal over the fact that you’d be going on dates with Yeosang, “My parents are nice people, but they are…well, they had gotten a bit desperate about me finding my soulmate. Honestly, they thought you were dead.”

Well, that thought had never crossed your mind before, but it definitely didn’t sit well with you as you looked at Yeosang with a frown. His expression looked neutral, but he squeezed your hand, “I’m twenty-seven, so they think I’m too old to be single. My parents’ families were close friends, so they’ve always known they are soulmates. They had it easy, so it was weird seeing their son struggle to find his soulmate.”

“Did it hurt you? That you sought me out without success for so long?” You found yourself asking, curious to know how Yeosang felt. He seemed to think for a second, humming as he looked down at his cup of coffee.

“It was frustrating at first, mostly because my parents were also pressuring me.” He looked at you from the corner of his eyes, then shrugged, “Then I realised I wouldn’t find you faster if I made myself mull over it, so I just let it go. Since we are fated to be together, I realised I couldn’t trick fate and quicken the process.”

You hummed in agreement, realising you’ve had a similar mindset to Yeosang’s for the past one or two years, “I’m twenty-five and had lost hope at some point. My parents, similar to yours, met very early on, in middle school. I thought I’d also find my soulmate around that time, and when it didn’t happen, I thought it would come in high school…but then that didn’t happen either, and I felt disheartened, like something was wrong with me. And then I realised I can’t push something that isn’t meant to happen just yet.”

“I’m sorry I made you wait.” Yeosang’s answer was quick, his hand squeezing yours as your eyebrows furrowed.

“Don’t apologise, the wait was worth it in the end.” You giggled, averting your eyes shily.

“Yeah?” Yeosang sounded surprised, perhaps even a bit cocky, “You think so?”

“I think that you’re very handsome, Yeosang, and soft.” There was no reason to be embarrassed in front of your soulmate, certainly not when it came to complimenting him, “You have an aura of kindness and brightness around you; I think it’s everything I wanted in a partner.”

Yeosang was smiling widely again, nodding his head as he became shy once again, “You’re cute and vibrant; your smile makes my heart race. I’m thankful that you are my soulmate.”

You stopped walking, the sudden urge to hug Yeosang wasn’t something you could control, so you threw your arms around his torso and leaned into him, smiling to yourself as your head landed on his shoulder. Yeosang’s arms were quick to go around you, squeezing you into himself, and you realised he smelled like oranges and fresh grass, refreshing and calming. You loved the fresh smell of nature, and you loved Yeosang’s natural fragrance. You heard a chuckle, and suddenly something was plucked out of your hair, making your eyebrows furrow as you slightly pulled back, looking at Yeosang’s hand. A dry leaf was between his fingers, his expression amused.

“You’re like a garden fairy, do bees gravitate towards you during summer?” You laughed and shook your head, feeling a bit embarrassed as Yeosang pocketed the leaf instead of letting it fall to the ground. Your cheeks burned as you two let go of each other, fingers naturally intertwining as you headed for a bench, “Why did you choose to become a florist?”

You sat down on the bench, facing each other, and Yeosang’s knee brushed lightly against your thigh. You held your cup of tea in both hands, playing with it as you looked down in your lap, “Well, I just really love nature. I’ve always felt at ease around my little plants in my room, and then I realised I just really love flowers. They are so beautiful and tender, you have to nurture them and take care of them as if they were human. I feel like I have a connection to nature; it’s like I can be completely myself around all that beauty—and the colours! Oh, I love their colours, they are so gorgeous! I’m so glad you walked into the shop yesterday. I had no idea I was missing out on—so much!”

Yeosang watched with fascination on his face as you spoke, a little overexcited that he wanted to hear your hobbies and likes. It was only normal; you’d have to gradually get to know each other, yet it still felt surreal that the sky was an almost transparent blue, the clouds completely white, the barks of the trees various shades of brown, the grass so green, all the leaves, and all the colourful flowers. You loved seeing all the colour on people, too, how they expressed themselves by their outfits, all the colours inside buildings and outside. You’d have to buy some more colourful furniture for your room since it’s mostly beige and yellow. You wanted to cover your world in the colours of the rainbow, in every possible hue and shade.

“Yes, the world is so…intense now, vibrant. It’s impressive how I could live without it all.” Yeosang’s deep voice was soft and quiet as if he was speaking to himself, “I like being in nature, surrounded by wildlife, away from the noisy city. We could go on hikes and maybe even camping.”

You nodded eagerly, having fond memories of the hikes you had gone on with your friends and family, “I’d really love that, Yeosang. I’ve always wanted to go camping, but my parents don’t like bugs, so we never stayed out after nightfall.”

Both you and Yeosang laughed at that, and then you were eager to learn too about Yeosang, “I imagine you love children since you are a daycare teacher; how did you realise that?”

“It’s nothing too revolutionary,” Yeosang chuckled, finishing his cup of coffee, “I would babysit for our neighbours when I was a teenager, and then my cousin had a baby brother, and I’d spend a lot of time with them. As I was growing up, I realised I was fond of those little ones, so…it just happened, I guess.”

You nodded, understanding him, “Would you want children?”

The answer was obvious to that, but you still wanted to ask, “Definitely, if you’d also like to have children, of course.”

Your whole face flushed, and you coughed, a little taken off-guard by Yeosang’s direct answer. His eyebrows raised and his ears flushed, and suddenly he was stumbling over his words, “I mean—like, whoever is my partner, I care about that! You know, like, whatever my partner wants—whether it’s you or someone else, not that I’m thinking of anyone else—but I’m just…yeah, I think that was too soon, wasn’t it?”

He was adorable, you had to shield your mouth with your hand as you laughed quietly, shaking your head at Yeosang, “I mean, since we are soulmates, I don’t think any topic is too soon, Yeosang.”

“Yeah?” Yeosang asked, not quite looking at you yet, “Right, I mean, sure, that makes sense.”

Comfortable silence settled over the two of you, and you picked a stray string off Yeosang’s knee. He watched you quietly, taking in your serene expression, and your eyes met as you raised your head. You smiled at Yeosang without saying anything for a second, then chuckled, this whole situation feeling unreal. Just yesterday, your whole world was covered in grey and hues of brown, amber and copper—and now, your soulmate sat next to you on a bench, the world infused with so much colour you still weren’t used to it, and to top it off, your soulmate was kind and loving, good with children and soft-spoken despite his uncharacteristically deep voice. His face was gentle, his features almost as if they were sculpted by Greek Gods, his burgundy hair even curlier than yesterday as it was pinned back by a little pink bow, and it made you wonder if it was a child from the daycare that had placed it there. Yeosang’s expression looked a bit baffled as you continued to stare at him without saying a word, and not wanting to look weird, you spoke up, “I’m just admiring you because I cannot believe you are real.”

A surprised gasp left Yeosang’s lips at your words, and he didn’t shy away this time, leaning forward to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You grinned as he caressed your cheek, his palm warm and his skin soft, and for a second, you forgot there was anyone else in the world beside the two of you, “I’m as real as it can be, and I’m here to stay, by your side, for an eternity, Y/N.”

And your heart skipped another beat hearing his words, your body freezing when Yeosang suddenly started leaning towards you. You were ready, if he wanted to kiss you, then you wanted to feel his plush lips against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as it felt like your heart was in your throat, but instead of kissing your lips, you felt something warm press against your cheek, underneath your left eye, then your right eye, and it felt more intimate than any other kiss. You bit your bottom lip and opened your eyes, staring deeply into Yeosang’s rich brown ones, an almost red-like hue licking around his irises.

“Would you like to spend the rest of your day with me, Yeosang?”

“I don’t think I want to spend any time away from you from now on, Y/N.”

And you knew in your heart, in your whole being, that the future ahead of you two was bright, vibrant, gentle, and so, so colourful.

445 notes · View notes

writtenbymoonflower · 8 months ago

Note

Hello!! I literally finished Ted Lasso and am IN LOVE with Jamie Tartt (this may or may not have to do with the amount of fics I’ve read recently). Would you be up for writing a Jamie x reader where they’ve been secretly dating for a while and the team finds out, perhaps with a reader that works for AFC Richmond as like they’re photographer or something?

Omg babe I need more Jamie fics in my life. Jamie Tartt x fem!reader

cw: swearing, hickey, jamie tartt being a smug asshole

776 words

You can't stop subconsciously rubbing your neck, likely from the anxiety of wondering if your makeup is doing an adequate job covering the smattering of love-bites on your neck. When your fingers came away with a chalky coating of powder, you kept your hand frozen by your side, your free hand jotting down notes as your boss kept rambling, careful to filter the necessary information from the side tangents.

“You get all that, babe?” Keely looked up from her computer, half apologetic. “I’m so sorry my brain has been all over the place lately.”

“You’re okay Miss.” You looked up, eyes catching on the man winking at you from across the room. He was looking nearly sinful with a towel slung over his bulky shoulder, skin gleaming with sweat. You stiffened, handing the clipboard to your boss. “Does this all look right?”

She mumbled as her eyes scanned the page. “Perfect! Thank you so much, Y/N. I'm serious when I say I would be a complete shitstorm without you.” She glanced at the clock. “Oh, bugger! It’s gone 1. Why don’t you take your lunch, I’ll figure the rest of this mess out.” Her perfectly manicured hand shooed you from the office.

“Thank you Miss.” You contained your smile, glancing at Jamie. He was still looking at you, brown eyes burning into your form. You scampered off, closing the door to Keely’s office on the way out.

The hallway was oddly barren of players and staff, excepting the boy leant casually against the doorframe of the gym bearing lazy smile on his face. You walked up to him timidly, looking around the room to make sure there were no suspicious eyes.

“Hey cutie.” He said, running a hand through his blonde hair. Your legs felt like jelly, only made worse from the pinching heels on your feet.

“Hey Jamie. Are you okay? Why aren’t you in practice??” You looked over him for injuries, expecting to find some blooming bruise or irritated scratches. He smiled at you. You could tell he wanted to reach for you but didn’t want to risk the exposure.

You were the main reason the relationship between you two was a secret. Jamie would shout it from the rooftop if he could, but you were still unsure. You weren’t ashamed by any means, but you couldn’t help but feel pressure. You were dating one of the most well-known Richmond players. (one who was also on a dating show made entirely up of very attractive people). Nevertheless, Jamie treated you like a rare diamond.

“You can stop checking me out, babe. I’m alright. Coach is just havin’ us run laps. I finished first.” He was sickly sweet, if not a little boastful, looking you up and down, smirking like a cat who got the cream. “How long do you have on your break?”

“Just under an hour.” You subconsciously glanced at a watch that wasn’t there. His grin grew as he pulled you towards the locker room. “Jamie, what if someone walks in?” Even as you protested you couldn’t help your own smile from spreading over your face.

“Trust me, love. The lads are slackin' today. The only one who is going to finish in the next hour is Dani, and that chipper prick will stay and chat the Coaches to death.”

You sighed, letting James tug you into his arms. He smelled like grass, rain, sweat, and himself. It was intoxicating. “I missed you.” You mumbled into his chest.

“Missed you too, lovely girl.” He chucked, pulling you up for a kiss. No sooner did he deepen it than you heard a crash behind you. You tried to jump away from Jamie but he held onto you. You turned around to find a sheepish-looking Sam slowly backing away from the door.

“I- I am so sorry.” Sam looked like he was trying to shrink down to bug-size. “I’ll just, I don’t want to interrupt.”

“You’re ok-”

“God, Sam, mind your fuckin' business.” Jamie faux-scolded. Sam slightly smiled.

“I am.” He put his hands up in a ‘don’t shoot’ gesture. “And don’t worry, your secret is safe with-”

Right when he said that, a crowd of about ten players scrambled into the locker room, all pausing when they took in the spectacle in front of them. You could see them looking between Sam, you, and Jamie who still had his arm wrapped around your waist. The room was dead silent, until someone spoke up from the back of the group.

“Well now we know why Y/N comes to practice so much.”

“Shut the fuck up Jan Maas!” Upwards of five people shouted.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt drabble #afc richmond #ted lasso fandom #ted lasso tv #ted lasso fanfic #phil dunster #apple tv

400 notes · View notes

woodland-gremlin · 11 months ago

Text

Summoning Your Secret Boyfriend Pt. 2

Previous AU Summary

This post is dedicated @fanfics-or-dragons who wrote part of the post. I will put their part in bold. I would suggest checking them out, they write some really interesting stuff.

Previously:

The con man opened his mouth, looking like he was losing his mind, before just shutting his mouth and contemplated how his life got to this point. He was just fine conning demons, detective work for the occult, and doing the occasional good deed, but no, he just had to get involved with the League of Goody-Two-Shoes who have no idea how to handle the supernatural. He was getting flashbacks to the time he realized that the Bats had no idea that they had a city spirit watching over them (he refuses to be the one to explain that to them). Or having to deal with the Flashes saying that magic wasn’t real. He wasn’t paid enough for the shit the League puts him through.

Constantine was always happy that there wasn't a teen version of the JLD cause he didn't want to have to chase kids around a bunch of demons, monsters, and other badies he deals with daily.

He is only now realizing that because there wasn't a teen version of the JLD that the young Justice team also dealt with the supernatural world just without any adult supervision cause none of the JLD or JL knew that they were. It was like they were trying to send him to an early grave. He blames Bats, he was the one to drag him into this crazy fest. You help a guy with something supernatural once and then suddenly you are a consultant to his Do-Gooder Club for anything involving the supernatural.

“And how and why do you know that Pariah isn’t the King anymore?” Constantine asked through grit teeth.

Supernova stills, finally realizing the danger of the line of questioning. He couldn’t lie, his crummy template would tattle on him immediately. But at the same time he couldn’t just avoid the question without people getting suspicious. So that left the last option. Being as vague as possible.

“Someone from the Infinite Realms mentioned it,” Supernova said with false casualness.

“What?”

While most of the League just looked confused, almost every member of the JLD looked like he just told them he invited Trigon to a tea party. Constantine especially looked pale, similar to how Danny looked in human form. Half-dead wasn't a good look on him.

“You’re saying that a citizen of the Infinite Realms, which is literally the glue of the multiverse, just told you that Pariah wasn’t their King anymore?!” the sad trench coat man asked desperately.

“Well, it was more like an example of how some of their rules work,” Supernova stated with no filter.

“That makes even less sense!” Constantine screeched, “Most of the citizens of that realm are beings of emotion that literally come into being knowing how things work. They don’t work by our rules and certainly don’t explain theirs. And you're telling me that they sat down and explained the rules without you losing your soul?! And that you understood what they were explaining too?! The rules that have been driving those in the occult crazy trying to figure out so they can avoid them without offending them??”

Supernova laughs nervously. “Well when you put it like that it sounds insane.”

“Because it is!” Constantine screams, “They literally say ‘hi’ by fighting each other. Not to mention even if they don’t try to purposely hurt you they often do due to how fragile we are compared to them. Even their weakest would be a challenge to our heavy hitters!”

To be continued . . .

902 notes · View notes

landososcar · 3 months ago

Text

packing it up ; LN4

— pairing(s) ; college hockey player!lando x figure skater!reader

— summary ; in which lando's transfer to a new school not only brings him a new team, classes, and friends, but a girl who will change his life forever.

— warnings ; not edited, i'm not american, im also not a figure skater so there's probs plenty of inaccuracies lolll

chapter two — prev … next

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

that night, i couldn’t stop replaying the dinner conversation in my head. lily’s unwavering support wasn’t surprising—she’d always been in my corner—but lando? his empathy had caught me completely off guard. i didn’t know if it made me feel comforted or embarrassed.

as i lay in bed staring at the ceiling, lost in thought, my phone buzzed on the nightstand.

i sat up, my heart skipping a beat as i reread the message. my thumbs hovered over the screen, but i had no idea how to respond. why would lando go out of his way to talk to his mum about me? we weren’t close; i barely knew him.

but as i put my phone down, a spark of hope flickered in my chest.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

the next morning, i returned to the rink, throwing myself into practice with a determination that bordered on desperation. the icy air bit at my cheeks as i glided across the ice, pushing my body to its limits. the rhythmic sound of my blades slicing through the rink was usually soothing, but today it wasn’t enough to quiet my thoughts and the knot in my chest wouldn’t loosen.

i was mid-spin when a warm, unfamiliar voice called out from the edge of the rink.

“beautiful form.” startled, i faltered slightly but regained my balance before turning toward the source. a woman stood near the boards, dressed in a stylish coat and scarf, her posture poised and confident. there was something familiar about her—the same warm eyes, the same gentle smile, “you must be y/n.”

i skated over, unsure of what to say. “that’s me. and you are...?”

“cisca norris,” she said, extending a hand. “lando’s mum. he told me a bit about your situation, and i thought i’d come take a look.”

my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “oh, i—he didn’t need to do that.”

she smiled kindly. “he’s a good boy, my lando. and a little stubborn when he wants to help. i’m glad he told me, though. i can see you’re very talented.”

“thank you,” i said, still feeling flustered. “but i don’t even have a partner or a coach anymore. i’m kind of stuck.”

her expression softened. “you’re not stuck. you’re just at a crossroads. if you’re willing to put in the work, i’d be happy to help.”

“you’d... coach me?” my voice cracked slightly, disbelief colouring the words. i didn’t know what to say – i didn’t want to be a burden to her, and i didn’t know how to repay her.

she nodded. “i haven’t coached in years, but i still know what it takes. and i’ve got a really good feeling about you, y/n.”

i blinked rapidly, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotion. “thank you, b-but i don’t know how to repay you for this… i don’t know what to say.”

“say you’ll show up tomorrow ready to work,” she said smiling, “we’ll take it one step at a time.” i nodded almost desperately and she must’ve seen the water brimming on my eyes because she went to pull me into a hug, “and as for payment,” she said gently, “just make sure my son is feeling at home, would you?”

i laughed softly, wiping my eyes. “i was gonna do that anyway.”

“i thought you might say that,” she said with a smile, brushing an invisible strand of hair from my face before we parted.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

as i got back to my dorm for the night, i was greeted by my best friend’s beautiful smile. lily was sprawled across her bed, headphones on and sketchbook in hand, her pencil moving in quick, confident strokes.

she looked up as i closed the door behind me, her eyes lighting up. “hey! how was the rink?”

i kicked off my shoes, my heart still buzzing from the day’s events. “you’re not going to believe this.”

her eyebrows shot up in intrigue as she sat up straighter. “spill. right now.”

i tossed my bag onto my bed and sank into the desk chair, still trying to process everything myself. “okay, so... lando talked to his mum about me. apparently, she’s a former skating coach.”

lily’s jaw dropped. “no way.”

“and not only that—she came to the rink today. she offered to coach me, lily. can you believe it? out of nowhere, she just... showed up and said she wanted to help.”

for a moment, lily just stared at me, then she let out an excited squeal, throwing her arms in the air. “i knew it! i told you lando was the best! and his mum? she sounds like an actual legend.”

i laughed, her enthusiasm infectious. “she is. i mean, she’s amazing. the way she coaches, the way she just... believes in me. i don’t even know how to thank her—or him, for that matter.”

lily rolled onto her stomach, propping her chin in her hands. “you thank her by killing it at practice tomorrow. and as for lando...” she smirked mischievously. “you could always bake him cookies or something. or, you know, just say thank you like a normal person.”

i rolled my eyes, though i couldn’t help but smile. “i’ll figure it out. but honestly, it feels like things might actually be looking up for the first time in forever.”

lily beamed at me, her expression softening. “of course they are. you’re incredible, y/n. you just needed the right people in your corner. and now you’ve got them.”

warmth spread through me, easing some of the tension that had been weighing me down for weeks. i didn’t say it out loud, but lily’s unwavering belief in me meant just as much as cisca’s. maybe, just maybe, she was right. maybe things really were finally looking up.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

the next morning, i arrived at the rink early, my nerves humming with anticipation as i laced up my skates, the sharp cold of the ice already creeping through my layers. today wasn’t just another practice.it was the first step toward figuring out my future—and maybe, just maybe, rebuilding what i thought i’d lost.

as i stood on the ice, stretching and warming up, cisca arrived. she walked in with a graceful confidence that made her instantly commanding yet approachable. a small bag hung from her shoulder, and her warm smile made me feel instantly at ease.

“good morning, y/n,” she greeted, her voice as gentle as it had been the day before.

“good morning,” i replied, my voice trembling slightly with nerves.

she set her bag down on the bench and pulled out a notebook, “i have to admit, i missed this,” she said, almost to herself. “it’s been a while since i’ve coached, but it all comes back so easily.”

i couldn’t help but smile, her enthusiasm was a little contagious. “thank you for doing this. it means more to me than i can say.”

she waved a hand dismissively, though her smile softened. “lando said he’s been told you’re very talented,” she paused with a smile, “i think you’ve got some amazing friends willing to help you however they can… let’s get started.”

the next hour passed in a blur of movement and focus, diving into the intricacies of technique. cisca’s coaching style was unlike anything i’d experienced. she was direct, offering feedback that was honest but never harsh. when i struggled with a step or faltered during a spin, she didn’t scold; she analyzed.

“your jump is good, but let’s work on the timing of your takeoff,” she said at one point, skating out onto the ice to demonstrate. “if you push off too early, you lose momentum. watch me.”

she executed the jump with ease, landing gracefully and turning back to me with an encouraging nod. “now you.”

i tried again, this time paying closer attention to her tips, and when i landed smoothly, she clapped lightly. “there it is! perfect.”

her praise sent a swell of pride through me, something i hadn’t felt in months. maria had always been strict and demanding, rarely offering compliments unless the move was flawless. with cisca, it felt different. her belief in me wasn’t conditional; it was unwavering.

by the end of the session, my muscles ached in a satisfying way, and my spirits were higher than they’d been in weeks. i sat on the bench unlacing my skates when cisca joined me, her expression thoughtful.

“you’re a hard worker,” she said, breaking the comfortable silence. “that’s a quality even the most talented skaters can lack. if you keep that up, you’re going to go far.”

i looked at her, unsure how to put my gratitude into words. “thank you,” i said, my voice soft. “for everything. i don’t know how to repay you.”

her hand rested lightly on mine, her touch warm and reassuring. “you don’t owe me anything, y/n. i’m happy to help. and honestly,” she added with a playful smile, “you’ve already made it worth my while just by showing up and giving it your all.”

i chuckled, feeling my cheeks warm. “still... thank you.”

she leaned back slightly, her gaze turning more serious. “and don’t forget what i said yesterday—make sure lando feels at home here. he’s putting on a brave face, but i know my son. he’s adjusting, too.”

the mention of lando made me pause, her words stirring something in me. “i will,” i promised. “he’s been so kind to me already. he must get it from you.”

cisca smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that reminded me of lando. “he’s got his moments,” she said with a wink.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

later that afternoon, i found myself walking back toward the skating arena. lando had practice, and while i hadn’t planned on going, cisca’s words lingered in my mind. i owed him at least a thank-you.

the unmistakable sound of skates cutting across ice greeted me as i stepped inside. the cold air nipped at my cheeks, but the energy of the rink was infectious. players zipped back and forth, their movements sharp and deliberate, the clatter of sticks and pucks echoing through the space.

it didn’t take long to spot him. lando moved with a precision that stood out, his focus intense as he weaved through the defence. even as someone unfamiliar with hockey, i could tell he was good—really good.

when he skated off the ice for a break, he noticed me standing near the boards. his face lit up with surprise as he walked over, his cheeks flushed from exertion. “y/n! didn’t expect to see you here.”

i smiled, feeling slightly awkward because of the other men around us, but pushing through it. “i just wanted to say thank you. for talking to your mum. she’s... amazing. i can’t believe she’s helping me.”

he grinned, leaning casually against the boards. “told you she was the best. so, how’d it go?”

“she’s incredible,” i said earnestly. “i feel like i might actually have a chance now. i don’t know how to repay either of you.”

“you don’t need to,” he said easily. “mum wouldn’t do it if she didn’t believe in you. and honestly, i’m glad i could help. you’ve been through enough.”

his sincerity caught me off guard, and for a moment, i just looked at him, unsure what to say. finally, i smiled. “well, i owe you at least a coffee or something.”

he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “i’ll hold you to that.” i laughed, watching him skate back onto the ice with the rest of his team before heading out of the bulky double doors and back to lily and i’s shared dorm.

later that night, as i laid in bed trying to rid my mind of the pretty boy with the brown curls so i could sleep, my phone lit up with a notification. i sighed and debated on checking it, knowing the light from my phone would completely restart my attempt at sleeping. i grabbed it from the bed side table and couldnt help the upturn of my lips when i saw what it said.

landonorris started following you!

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

a/n ; i’m so sorry this took so long lmaooo chapter 3 is pretty much done so i’ll post it asap (fr this time)

taglist (comment or send an ask to be added<3) ; @leclercdream @britenysbitch @cabbyhabs @jule239 @tvdtw4ever @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @f1and1d4eva @sid-is-gr8

180 notes · View notes

orchidsarchives · 11 months ago

Note

I am kinda curious

What would Jason be like if the coffee Cafe owner!reader built in a small library in her Cafe just for him,like she saw he liked reading and went like 'yup. I am building a small library for him'

This is such a fun idea, but omg please forgive me, I went a little overboard. Once I figured out what to write, I couldn’t stop. I apologize for how long it is. But omg also, I was literally kicking my feet and giggling writing the end lol, Anyways enjoy!

Owning a cafe was a difficult job, there was always much to do— customers to attend to, drinks to make, and maintenance to do. You were always busy, but you loved your job.

You had spent a lot of time curating the perfect atmosphere for your beloved customers. The lighting was warm, with fairy lights and lanterns dangling from the ceiling. There was wooden furniture and two old couches that sat by the glass windows. The tiny space smelled of freshly brewed coffee and sweet bread. The cafe was always inviting.

You had many regulars at the coffee shop, each one with their own story, a different purpose.

For the past six months, twice a week, every Thursday and Saturday morning, a tall man walked in. Jason, you recalled his name from the many times you prepared his drinks. He’d order the same thing every time, a small London fog and a walnut banana bread.

He’d sit at the table nearest to the entrance, his back never towards the door.

Every morning, he’d come in with a new book. You had seen him read Franz Kafka, Oscar Wilde and Jane Austen; he’d read a lot of Austen.

He was a mystery and you wanted to know more.

You found Jason quite handsome. His skin was scattered with scars and you often found yourself staring at the permanent wound near his lips. You wanted to run your fingers along it, to trace it, to kiss it.

His eyes were always kind, a deep shade of green, forest-like you’d think to yourself.

He spoke with kindness. His voice velvety and rich, much like the espresso you’d brew everyday, except his voice was never bitter, almost always doused with honey.

Sometimes you’d catch him looking over at the counter, at you, you’d hoped.

Your coworkers were afraid of him, telling you to stay away, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was like an enticing book, waiting to be read. They’d warn you, “do not engage in too much conversation with the strange man.” But it was as if they were talking to a small child, their words would go in one ear and out the other.

“Strange,” you would never use that word to describe him.

From the small talk you had with him, to his choice in books, to even his taste in tea, you’d never describe him as strange.

Gentle was the word you’d choose.

He was huge, all height and muscle, terrifying to most, however to you, he was everything but that. You saw an angel and you didn’t even know him… yet, you’d tell yourself.

There were days, where you almost gained the courage to ask for his number, maybe ask for small detail, perhaps get a glimpse of his life. But each attempt was futile. Why was it so hard to speak to him for more than five minutes, you’d curse your inability to speak to attractive men.

You were beginning to give up on your dreams of getting to know the beautiful stranger, when he walked in through door.

The conversation began as per usual.

“Morning Jason, what can I grab you today,” you asked politely. He smiled softly in return and you stare at the scar by his lip as he begins to speak.

“Uhh surprise me,” you look at him confused, he’s never done that before and he finds himself smiling harder. “Just kidding, I’ll just the take the usual please,” he says as he places his copy of Jane Eyre on the counter to take out his wallet.

“Brontë, why am I not surprised,” you reply, gazing at the book. You take the cash from his hands and your heart drops. Shades of purple and crimson coat his skin. They’re bruised, again.

“What can I say, I’m a man of taste,” he smirks. You roll your eyes and giggle.

“Now who told you that,” and he shrugs. Then there’s a lull, you don’t know what to say now. It isn’t awkward, but you find yourself starting feeling a little uneasy. God, if you only you could come up with something else to say. You shake your head slightly and begin to warm up his banana bread.

You turn around and wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t walk away to his usual table this time, instead he takes a seat next to the counter. Odd, you thought.

Jason’s gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, he watches you in admiration, you don’t quite catch on.

If you thought Jason was handsome, then he thought you belonged in a museum. You were a work of art in his eyes. The kind of beauty they wrote poetry about. Absolutely stunning.

He wanted to get to know you, speak to you, but he was afraid. If you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, then he may never be able to see you again. The trips to the cafe would no longer be necessary and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

However today, Jason pushes his fears aside, he feels bold. He finds his confidence and he speaks.

“Do you read much,” he asks suddenly. You place his cup of tea and bread in front of him, and nod your head.

“I do, but not what you read,” you reply and he stares into your eyes, curious. “I mostly read magazines, you know Vogue and stuff,” his smile drops a little, he’s trying really hard to not look judgemental. Cute, you think. “Kidding, I read fantasy mostly,” and his face lights up again.

“So like J.K. Rowling,” he questions.

“No, Harry Potter’s good, but I’m not really a fan of her, you know as a person. I’ve been reading a lot Neil Gaiman recently though,” you say.

“Oh fuck, yeah, she’s said some pretty crazy stuff huh,” and you nod again. “Gaiman though, I don’t think I’ve ever read his stuff before, he any good,” he asks and your eyes go wide, you’re excited.

You spend the next hour of his visit speaking to him about books, about the things that you both like.

You only part from the conversation when there was a customer.

You’ve never felt this way before, all the assumptions you made about him were true. He was an angel, a kind and gentle one.

A month goes by and you notice your relationship with Jason change. Now, instead of sitting by the entrance of the cafe, he sits near you, back against the door. A sign of trust, you assumed. He smiled more, he showed his teeth and he laughed, hard. You loved the sound of his laugh. His eyes looked brighter, greener, emerald-like. He still walked in with a new book, but when the conversation began, it was long forgotten.

You watched his bruises heal and you watched new ones appear, you were always curious, but never had the courage to ask. He’d tell you when he was ready.

As time went by, you found yourself wanting to do something for him, you wanted him to know that you cared. You thought that if your words were going to fail you, then maybe your actions would prove otherwise.

Working a closing shift at the cafe on a gloomy Tuesday evening, you find yourself thinking of different gestures you could do.

Ideas came and left, nothing felt good enough. He deserved the best. Trying to busy your mind elsewhere, you begin to sweep the floors and that’s when inspiration hits you.

There, in the coffee shop, lies an empty corner. An odd spot, not necessarily small, but also not large enough either.

A perfect fit for a decently sized bookshelf. A library, for the community, but most importantly for Jason. You smile to yourself, proud at the thought. He’d love this, you knew he would.

The next morning you find yourself drilling holes into the pale walls of the cafe, trying attach the large shelf you lugged down to the shop.

Once everything was fixed into its rightful place, you begin adding the books, by genre and then by the authors’ last names. You add many of Jason’s favourites, multiple copies of Austen. You add children’s books, comics and something for yourself.

The shelf fits right into the ambiance of the cafe, elevating it honestly. The corner looked cosy and you found yourself wanting to sit by one of the couches with a book and a cup of hot chocolate.

You stare at the shelf once more, proud. Now, you just had to wait.

Jason walks into the cafe the next day, he’s late. He arrives near closing time. It’s just you and him in the cafe, most of your staff left for the day and not many people stayed this late. It’s quiet, the only sound coming from the machines on your side of the counter. He’s holding another book in his hand, but he has no intention of reading tonight.

His hair is slicked back, and there’s a small cut on his forehead. He’s dressed in a white dress shirt and black pants. He looks like he’s coming back from a big event or maybe he’s going to one later. Either way, he looks pretty like this, his arms look more defined and you can make out the muscles on his back when he walks around the room, waiting for his drink.

His eyes wander around the cafe before settling on the bookshelf nestled in the odd corner. His eyes soften, he’s never noticed that before, it must be new, he thinks.

“When’d you get this,” he asks, his fingers running along the spines of the books. He’s smiling, there’s so many books.

“Yesterday, it’s for you,” you say, holding your breath. This is it, the moment you’ve been preparing for.

“For me,” he looks over at you as you settle his tea on the counter. You begin walking over to his side, slowly, riddled with nerves.

“Yes, since you’re always here, I thought you’d like having a book shelf here. It’s like a library, you take a book and then you-“ he cuts you off suddenly.

“You made a library for me in your cafe, are you serious,” he’s trying to hold back a smile, you can tell. His scar gets more prominent when he does that. “Why,” he as asks, his voice is soft, it feels like warm milk with honey, comforting.

“You’re gonna make me say it,” you can’t see your face, but it feels hot, you can tell you’re blushing.

“Yeah, say it. Why is there a library in your cafe for me,” he says, enunciating the words “your” and “for me.” He’s smirking now. He knows the answer, he just wants to hear it from you.

The point of the library was to not have to say anything, for your actions to speak for you, but here you are. Ears burning and palms clammy.

“I…,” you trail off, you look around the room, anywhere but his face. He notices and walks closer, his hands gently make their way around your waist.

“Say it,” he exclaims, it’s not forceful, he’s smiling and shades of pink dust his cheeks.

You close your eyes shut, fuck, you’re going to have to say it.

“I really like you jas-,” and with that, his lips find their way to your own. You move in harmony, much like matcha and oat milk. His lips are sweet, he tastes like the banana bread, he decided to eat while pacing around the cafe. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, you pull back and smile. You peck his lips. Once where the scar is and once more on the centre. He grins.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that from you,” he mumbles against your lips, waiting for you to kiss him again.

And you do, you kiss him again and again.

#this was written before i found out how disgusting neil gaiman is #gn!reader #jason todd #red hood #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd headcanon #red hood headcanon #batfam

789 notes · View notes

mvltisstuff · 2 years ago

Text

going, going, gone pt. 2 - c.f

summary: y/n leaves to do what susannah always wanted for her boys.

conrad fisher x conklin!reader

a/n: gif is not mine, but i was so so happy to see how much everyone loved part one!! i’ve never had to tag people, but i will try and do that at the end of the story <3 this is also not following the books, that i haven’t read because i’m the worst reader 😭

y/n stood on the opposite side of susannah’s bed, visiting her in boston after she was waiting to see her girls. her connection to laurels daughters was always something susannah felt from the moment they were born. she always wanted girls of her own, but she was still blessed with her two sons.

belly was sitting on the bed, a bright blue dress as susannah looked into her eyes. laurel had gone out to run errands for her friend, so the girls had stayed with susannah.

it was clear that her condition was declining, and rapidly. her face didn’t have the usual sunshine look, and she appeared weaker than y/n and belly were ever used to. her skinny hands trailed to theirs and wrapped together. her touch went from a warm comfort to as light as a feather. somehow, through the cloudy day, the sun poked through and her angelic smile blessed the girls.

“i’ve been missing you so much,” susannah grinned, placing a hand on belly’s thigh and grabbing y/n’s hand with the other. “i’m so glad you came to see me. i needed to see you girls.”

the look on belly’s face was almost coated with uncomfortableness, her naïve self not used to seeing people in this condition. y/n didn’t want susannah to see her fall apart in her grasp, so she made herself blend with tranquility.

the time had passed where they wanted to attempt to save susannah. now, they knew it was only a matter of time until they lost her. they may not have physically lost susannah, but they lost the spark in her a long time ago.

“the boys love you, you know,” she tells belly, and then turning her head to y/n. “both of you.”

“i know,” y/n replies, seeing belly trying to find the right words.

“promise me something?” she asks, looking at belly who’s head perks up. “look after them for me.”

“you’re going to do that yourself,” belly remarks barely over a whisper, moments away from letting the dam break. y/n’s cried enough tears for susannah, but somehow they don’t seem to stop. watching her whole family experience this grief makes her feel less alone, but seeing her baby sister fall apart is near unbearable.

she watched as belly crumpled on the bed into susannah’s arms, and her once warm grasp felt lighter than ever.

ever since her death, y/n wants to look at belly the same. her actions make it so hard. she promised susannah to take care of her boys, and she failed. she let jeremiah sit around knowing he wasn’t the one she truly wanted. afterwards, she made conrad watch in heartbreak her new self with jeremiah.

that scares y/n, knowing that she’ll never truly be able to pick between them. in the long run, no matter who she “picks”, she’s hurting more people than she thinks.

she figures the best thing she can do is be there for conrad, as belly and jeremiah don’t think it’s necessary.

as she drove further and further away, the music she normally sings to turned into static. conrad would probably still be in cousins, not wanting to face his family back in boston. the traffic had quieted down, for people would be home with their families.

she pulled up the the house that had gotten it’s life back before julia took it all away. conrad and y/n were the main ones trying to save the house from being invaded by another family. even if they couldn’t, the cousins house would always have the fisher’s name on it. when y/n walked up to the front door, she slowly turned the doorknob and stepped in.

her footsteps lightly echoed due to the emptiness of the house, some of the front rooms still looking lifeless. y/n walked around, picturing everything exactly how susannah had it, all the portraits and loving decor she had around. she knew, though, that’s how conrad will set everything up.

the sun was just starting to dip down below the horizon, and when she spotted conrad sitting with his feet dipped in the pool, he looked lower than the sun ever could get.

she quietly stepped out onto the back, not saying a word until he noticed her. his head slowly tilted around, feeling her sweet eyes burning through him. he felt more relieved. she’s the only person he wants to see. she’s the one person who hasn’t ripped his heart out and used it.

“what are you doing back?” he questions, keeping his collected expression.

“i didn’t think you really wanted to be alone. you can’t fool me, conrad,” she smirks softly, moving over to sit next to him on the edge of the pool. she dips her feet into the cool water, not yet graced by the hot summer air.

“i don’t need you to be here for me, i don’t think i’m too good of company right now.”

“i think that’s exactly why you need me,” y/n says as conrad looks back to her. he’s always noticed y/n’s beauty on the outside, but he never got to really appreciate the inside. her mind was just as beautiful as her hair when the wind blows it, or the dimples on her cheeks when she’s happy. “you don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

“yeah,” he sighs, swaying his feet in the pool. “i thought jere would at least help me.”

“i talked to belly,” y/n tells him, seeing him quickly freeze and lean his head back.

“it’s not a big deal, y/n, really,” conrad says.

“it is to me. i never thought of her like this, but i don’t understand how she could do that to you.”

“it’s a me problem, clearly jeremiah’s better than i am.”

“that’s not true. belly’s young and thinks she’s innocent. she doesn’t deserve someone like you. she’ll never take the time to know you, but she’s going to jeremiah because he’s ‘easier’.” y/n replies. “you’re perfectly fine the way you are, and you never have to change for her, or me.”

“my mom always saw me with belly. i think that’s the worst part.”

“but your mom didn’t see what belly’s done to you. susannah would never want you to change in order to be with her.” y/n says, clearly to him. “susannah asked belly to be there, and she failed.”

“what do you mean?”

“when belly and i went to visit, she asked us to take care of you and jeremiah. belly barely looked after you, and i don’t even know if she’s helping jeremiah.”

“i get it, though. i left her at prom, and broke her heart.”

“was it shitty of you? yes, i’m not gonna lie to you. at this point, she’s taking it too far by playing with you and now it’s jeremiah’s turn.”

“maybe my mom was wrong,” he looks away, connecting his eyes back with the minute waves in the water. “i miss her. she was like a breath of fresh air, and i feel like i haven’t gotten that since she died.”

“she’s still here,” y/n tells him, seeing the corner of his mouth turn up a bit.

“i still feel her sometimes. if i’m home and i hear a noise, i’ll think she’s cooking, or painting. i don’t need people to see me fall apart.”

“you never have to hide, conrad. not anymore, and not from me.”

the next time he locks eyes with y/n, he can majorly see the sincerity in her face. there’s still a hint of when they were young in their eyes, memories swimming back into conrad’s head. every time she talked to him, all the time she spent with him. every party she skipped because conrad didn’t feel up to it, and she didn’t want him to be alone. he never felt nervous around y/n the way he did with her sister. they always had a complex relationship, but never once did y/n fail to be next to him. conrad let his inch closer to y/n’s, letting her hand lay on top of his, leaving solace in him. he never noticed how soft her hands were, literally and figuratively. she never once used him and glued his pieces back together. it’s then that he realizes that’s something belly never did.

impulsively, he moves his body more toward y/n, trying to get all the gladdening she can give. she’s more than happy to give it to him, letting conrad hold onto her and have her help him. the world around the boy became lighter, almost forgetting about his former despondency caused by belly. the closer he got to y/n, the more he thought that his mother had mistaken belly for the one.

he brushes a stand of y/n’s hair behind her ear, placing his hand on the side of her neck. she breathes lightly, knowing what conrad wants from her, but not knowing if he needs it.

“conrad,” she whispers, his name coming across incredibly from her lips. “you know i love you.”

“of course,” he says back, his hand trailing down her arm.

“but i won’t be a redemption because you cannot have belly. i’ve been the second choice once and i destroyed myself. i won’t do it again.”

“belly’s not who i want. i don’t think i’ve ever loved belly the way i have for you.” it all felt so sudden, the tension growing thicker between them as conrad only wanted to deepen the connection. y/n was just so horrified of hurting him more. she knows that she could help him and love him how he should, but she needs to know that he’s not just trying to get belly back.

“i think we need time, conrad. please?” she asks, and he nods, slipping his hand back down and grabbing her hand. “but trust me when i say that’s it’s not over with us.”

the meaning behind her words is stronger. in reality, she just wants to dive into conrad and accept anything he has to give, but he needs to strengthen his own heart first. he needs to know what he wants. if y/n needs time, he will wait for her.

tags: @historygeekqueen @am-i-shit-or-am-i-the-shit @celesteblack08 @parkerdayaa @shelby-x

2K notes · View notes

w1w2 · 3 months ago

Text

A Holiday to Remember

Huh Yunjin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 3,5k

Synopsis: In the magical glow of a snow-covered holiday town, Y/N and Yunjin prepare for their first Christmas together.

Note: Have a great Christmas babes! Thank you so much for your support and kindness, it truly means the world to me. 🥹 I hope you enjoy this magical time, surrounded by love, laughter, and all the things that make your heart happy.

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The small town looked like it had been plucked straight from a Christmas card. A fresh blanket of snow sparkled under the glow of twinkling fairy lights strung between lamp posts, their warm yellow hue casting a golden glow over the cobblestone streets. Storefronts were decked out in holiday displays: miniature Christmas villages, red and gold ornaments, and faux snow glimmering in the soft light. The faint aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg wafted from a nearby bakery, mingling with the brisk, frosty air. Somewhere down the street, a group of carolers harmonized to the gentle melody of Silent Night, their voices as soothing as a crackling fire.

Y/N strolled through the bustling town square, her cheeks flushed from the cold and her scarf wrapped snugly around her neck. The energy of the holiday season buzzed all around her, but her mind was focused on one thing or rather, one person.

“This is going to be the most special Christmas ever” she thought, her heart fluttering at the thought of Yunjin. It was their first holiday season as a couple, and every little detail felt significant. Y/N had spent weeks daydreaming about the perfect way to celebrate, imagining cozy nights by the fire and stolen kisses under the mistletoe. But today, her mission was clear: finding the perfect gift for Yunjin.

As she weaved through the cheerful crowd, Y/N couldn’t help but smile. This town had always felt magical during the holidays, but this year, it was different. Everything seemed brighter, warmer because she had someone special to share it with. She paused by a street vendor selling handcrafted ornaments, her gaze drawn to a delicate angel carved from wood.

“Would she like this?” Y/N muttered to herself, tilting her head as she examined the tiny figure. But then she remembered something Yunjin had said in passing a few weeks ago I love gifts that come from the heart. They don’t have to be expensive, just thoughtful.

The memory sparked a mix of excitement and nervousness in Y/N. It was sweet of Yunjin to care more about the meaning behind a gift than its price tag, but it also meant the stakes felt impossibly high. She wanted her gift to be perfect, something that would show Yunjin how much she truly meant to her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a child’s laughter as a snowball fight broke out nearby. Y/N chuckled, the sound lifting her spirits. She adjusted her coat and decided to keep looking. Somewhere in this picturesque little town was the perfect present.

“Alright, Yunjin,” she whispered with determination, “you’re getting a Christmas gift you’ll never forget.”

With that, Y/N set off down the street, determination settling in her chest like a warm ember. The twinkling holiday lights above her seemed to cheer her on as she made her way toward her next destination. She’d heard about the bustling holiday market in town, a place filled with unique treasures that might hold the perfect gift for Yunjin.

The gentle hum of Christmas carols grew louder as she approached, and soon, the vibrant scene came into view.

Y/N pulled her coat tighter around herself as she stepped into the heart of the holiday market. The place was buzzing with life, vendors calling out to advertise their goods, couples strolling hand-in-hand, and kids gleefully tugging their parents toward colorful stalls.

Each booth was a treasure trove of unique, handcrafted items: delicate glass ornaments, cozy knitted scarves, wooden toys, and candles in every imaginable scent.

Her eyes flitted from stall to stall, her thoughts consumed by one question What would Yunjin love the most?

She stopped at a booth displaying an array of intricate ornaments. One in particular caught her eye, a frosted glass globe painted with a snowy forest scene. It was stunning, and she reached out to pick it up carefully. Or at least, she tried.

The ornament slipped from her fingers and tumbled toward the ground. “Oh no!” Y/N yelped, her heart skipping a beat. She winced as the glass shattered into tiny pieces at her feet.

The vendor, a kind-faced older woman, waved it off with a warm smile. “Don’t worry about it, dear. It’s just a sign that you’re meant to find something even better.”

Y/N let out a relieved laugh, crouching down to help clean up the mess. “I’m so sorry. I’m a bit clumsy sometimes.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” the woman said, placing a comforting hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Take your time. It’s not about the first thing you see, it’s about the one that feels right.”

Thanking the vendor, Y/N moved on, her cheeks still pink from embarrassment. She turned a corner and found herself at a quieter stall selling antique trinkets. Her gaze landed on a small music box nestled among the clutter. She picked it up and wound the key, and as the melody played, her heart swelled.

It was their song, the one Yunjin had sung softly to her on a late-night walk months ago, when they’d first started falling for each other. Y/N closed her eyes, letting the tune wash over her.

“This could be it,” she murmured. But doubt crept in as quickly as the excitement. "Is it too simple? Too small?" She hesitated, unsure if the music box alone would be enough to express how much Yunjin meant to her.

She pulled out her phone, scrolling to a familiar number. “Sakura Unnie” Y/N said as soon as the call connected. “I need your help.”

Sakura’s teasing laugh rang out on the other end. “This is about Yunjin, isn’t it? You sound lovestruck.”

Y/N groaned. “I’m serious! I found something, but I’m not sure if it’s the right gift. I mean, it’s cute and meaningful, but what if—”

“Y/N,” Sakura interrupted, her tone affectionate. “You’re overthinking this. Yunjin loves you, and she’s going to love whatever you pick as long as it’s from the heart. Just go with your gut.”

Y/N sighed but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re right. Thanks, Unnie.”

“Of course I’m right. Now stop panicking and focus on making her happy,” Sakura said, and Y/N could hear the grin in her voice.

Ending the call, Y/N felt her determination solidify. She decided to buy the music box, tucking it safely into her bag before heading to her next stop. The cool evening air nipped at her cheeks as she walked down the festive street, her thoughts racing ahead to where she might find something else that would speak to Yunjin’s heart.

She passed a row of brightly lit shops until her eyes landed on a boutique with a chic display of accessories in the window. A glimmer of inspiration struck her, and she pushed open the door, a small bell jingling softly overhead.

The boutique’s interior was sleek and modern, with soft jazz playing in the background and rows of beautifully displayed accessories. Y/N wandered through the aisles, her eyes drawn to a delicate gold necklace with a charm shaped like a star. It was elegant, timeless, perfect for Yunjin’s sophisticated side.

But then, she spotted something equally tempting: a pair of quirky earrings shaped like tiny microphones. They were playful and fun, just like Yunjin’s sense of humor.

Y/N stood frozen, holding one in each hand. “Why is this so hard?” she muttered, biting her lip.

“Having trouble deciding?” a friendly voice asked. The shopkeeper, a stylish woman with a sharp eye for detail, smiled knowingly.

“Yeah,” Y/N admitted. “I want to get my girlfriend something special, but I can’t pick between these two.”

The shopkeeper chuckled. “Let me tell you a secret. The best gifts aren’t about how they look, they’re about what they mean. Think about what each piece says about her and your relationship. Which one speaks to you?”

Y/N stared at the necklace and earrings for a long moment before the answer became clear. She smiled, thanking the shopkeeper as she made her choice. With her purchase carefully tucked into her bag alongside the music box, she stepped back out into the chilly air.

The streets were quieter now, the golden glow of the setting sun casting long shadows across the snow-covered ground. She checked her list one last time, a new idea forming in her mind as she recalled a little craft store she’d passed earlier.

By the time Y/N reached the craft store, the sun was beginning to dip low in the sky, casting the snow-covered town in shades of orange and pink. Inside, the store was a riot of colors, bins of beads, shelves of glitter, and racks of paints lined the walls.

Inspired by the shopkeeper’s advice, Y/N decided to make part of Yunjin’s gift herself. She picked out supplies for a small photo frame: pastel paints, a handful of tiny star-shaped beads, and a glittery gold ribbon for finishing touches.

As she paid for her items, Y/N could already picture how it would look: a simple, heartfelt frame to hold a photo of one of their favorite moments together.

Back at home that evening, after Yunjin had returned to her dorms, Y/N spread her supplies across the kitchen table. It was her turn to pour her heart into something special. As she painted and glued, she accidentally spilled an entire tube of glitter across the floor.

“Oh no!” she laughed, watching the sparkly mess spread with every movement. Her laughter turned into a full-blown giggle fit when she realized the glitter had gotten into her hair, shimmering under the soft light.

By the time she finished, her fingers were sticky with glue, and the photo frame sparkled under the light. It wasn’t perfect, but it was hers and she couldn’t wait to see Yunjin’s reaction. With a contented sigh, Y/N carefully set the frame aside to dry and glanced at the clock. She still had a few more stops to make before the day was over.

Next day while Y/N was out putting the final touches with her gift, back at her apartment, Yunjin had been busy with her own preparations.

The soft glow of fairy lights bathed Y/N’s living room in a warm, golden hue. A freshly decorated Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner, adorned with delicate ornaments and shimmering tinsel. Yunjin stepped back to admire her handiwork, her lips curving into a satisfied smile. She had insisted on decorating the tree herself, wanting everything to be perfect for their first Christmas together.

Yunjin had perched on the couch in Y/N’s apartment, letting out a content sigh as she surveyed her handiwork. The Christmas tree twinkled softly in the corner, the fairy lights casting a golden glow over the room. Cozy blankets were draped over the couch, and she had even set out mugs for hot cocoa to complete the scene.

Every detail was wrapped in anticipation of seeing Y/N’s face light up later that evening. Her gaze drifted to the small pile of wrapped gifts under the tree, and her chest tightened. Among the presents was her main gift: a hand-written song.

The idea had come to her weeks ago, during a sleepless night at the dorms. Writing it had been cathartic, every note and lyric spilling straight from her heart. But as she sat there in the quiet warmth of Y/N’s apartment, doubt began to creep in.

What if it’s not enough?

Yunjin ran her fingers through her hair, her mind replaying moments from the past year. She thought back to a chilly evening in spring, when they’d walked by the river after a particularly grueling day. Y/N had noticed her quietness right away, wrapping her arm around Yunjin and insisting they take a detour to get hot chocolate.

“You don’t have to pretend everything’s okay,” Y/N had said softly, her warmth cutting through the chill.

Yunjin had opened up that night in a way she rarely did with anyone, and Y/N had listened,truly listened without judgment or interruption. It was one of the many moments that had made Yunjin realize she’d found something extraordinary in Y/N.

How do you put all of that into a gift?

The memory lingered as Yunjin reached for her guitar, which she had brought along to finalize her song. Her fingers brushed over the strings as she hummed the melody, letting the words come naturally

"In the glow of your smile, I find my peace,

Every moment with you feels like a masterpiece.

Through the highs and the lows, the laughter, the tears,

You’re my constant, my comfort, my reason to cheer."

Her voice faltered, and she frowned. Is this enough to show her how much she means to me?

Yunjin leaned back, the guitar resting on her lap. She thought about adding something else to the song, a special touch to make it feel even more personal. Maybe a custom necklace with their initials? Or a small charm that symbolized something only they would understand.

She closed her eyes, letting the melody play in her head again. The lyrics weren’t perfect, but they were hers. Every word carried the weight of her feelings for Y/N, and deep down, Yunjin knew that was what mattered most.

A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts. It was Y/N’s neighbor, stopping by to drop off cookies they’d baked for the holiday. Yunjin thanked them with a polite smile, tucking the tin away on the kitchen counter. As she returned to the couch, her mind drifted back to the song, her fingers instinctively strumming the chords again.

She pictured the way Y/N’s eyes would light up when she heard the first notes, the way her hands would clasp over her heart as the lyrics unfolded. The thought made Yunjin’s lips curl into a soft, almost shy smile.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “This is going to be perfect.”

With her resolve firmed, Yunjin placed the guitar back in its stand and got to work. She rewrapped one of the smaller gifts, adding a bow for extra flair. She adjusted the fairy lights to ensure they cast the most romantic glow. Every little detail, every touch, was for Y/N.

As the evening deepened, Yunjin curled up on the couch, her heart fluttering with equal parts excitement and nervousness. This Christmas wasn’t about extravagant gestures or lavish presents, it was about the love and connection they’d built together.

And as far as Yunjin was concerned, there was no greater gift than that.

The evening air was crisp as Y/N climbed the steps to her apartment, her bag tucked under one arm and her breath visible in the icy cold. From outside the door, she could already see the soft glow of fairy lights spilling through the windows, casting a warm and inviting light into the winter night. Her heart raced, not just from the cold but from anticipation.

She fumbled with her keys, and as she opened the door, the sight inside made her breath catch.

The living room was nothing short of magical. The Christmas tree stood tall, its ornaments glittering in the light of the fairy strings that wrapped around it. Cozy blankets were draped over the couch, and candles flickered gently on the coffee table, filling the room with the comforting scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Yunjin stood in the center of it all, a wide smile spreading across her face as she caught sight of Y/N.

“Welcome home,” Yunjin said, her voice warm and tender. She crossed the room in a few quick strides and pulled Y/N into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around her as though she’d waited all day for this moment.

Y/N melted into the embrace, her nerves and the stress of the day evaporating instantly. “You’ve outdone yourself,” she murmured against Yunjin’s shoulder.

Yunjin pulled back just enough to meet Y/N’s gaze, her eyes twinkling like the lights around them. “It’s our first Christmas together. I wanted it to be special.”

“It already is,” Y/N whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Yunjin took her hand and led her to the couch. They sat down, their knees brushing as Y/N set her bag beside her. The room felt like their own little world, safe and warm, insulated from the chilly night outside.

“I have something for you,” Y/N said, her voice soft but excited. She reached into her bag and pulled out two carefully wrapped items: the handmade photo frame and the music box.

Yunjin’s eyes widened as she accepted the gifts, her fingers brushing over the wrapping paper. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” she said, but her tone betrayed her eagerness to see what was inside.

“Open them,” Y/N urged, biting her lip nervously.

Yunjin unwrapped the photo frame first. She gasped softly when she saw it, a small but beautifully decorated frame that sparkled with tiny star-shaped beads and gold accents. Inside was a photo of the two of them from a day they’d spent at the park, their laughter frozen in time.

“Y/N,” Yunjin said, her voice trembling slightly. “This is... it’s perfect.”

Y/N smiled, her cheeks glowing pink. “I wanted you to have something personal, something that reminds you of us.”

Yunjin placed the frame carefully on the coffee table before unwrapping the music box. The familiar melody filled the room as she turned the key, and her expression softened even more.

“This song,” Yunjin said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s our song.”

Y/N nodded, her heart swelling with affection. “I heard it and immediately thought of you. I couldn’t resist.”

Yunjin set the music box down and reached for Y/N’s hands, her grip gentle but firm. “You have no idea how much this means to me,” she said, her eyes glistening. “Thank you.”

Y/N was about to respond when Yunjin stood abruptly. “Wait. I have something for you too.”

She disappeared briefly into the bedroom and returned with her guitar slung over her shoulder. Sitting back down, she looked at Y/N, her expression a mix of excitement and vulnerability.

“I wrote you a song,” Yunjin said shyly, her fingers lightly brushing the guitar strings. “It’s not perfect, but it’s... it’s everything I feel for you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as Yunjin began to play. The melody was soft and sweet, wrapping around them like a blanket. Yunjin’s voice was steady but emotional, every note carrying the depth of her feelings.

As the song went on, Y/N felt her eyes sting with tears. The lyrics told their story. The quiet moments they’d shared, the ways they’d lifted each other up, and the undeniable love that had grown between them.

When the final chord faded into the air, Yunjin looked up, her cheeks flushed. “So... what do you think?”

Y/N couldn’t find the words. Instead, she leaned forward and cupped Yunjin’s face in her hands, pulling her into a kiss. It was slow and tender, a silent answer to the question Yunjin had asked.

When they pulled back, Y/N rested her forehead against Yunjin’s. “I think it’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever done for me,” she said, her voice shaking with emotion.

Yunjin grinned, her confidence returning as she wrapped her arms around Y/N. “I’m glad you like it,” she said softly. “Merry Christmas, love.”

“Merry Christmas, Jen” Y/N replied, her heart feeling impossibly full.

The two of them stayed curled up on the couch, their gifts sitting nearby as silent witnesses to the love they shared. The night stretched on, filled with quiet laughter, whispered words, and a sense of peace neither of them had ever known before.

And as the snow continued to fall outside, it was clear that this Christmas Eve would be one they’d remember forever.

The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Snowflakes drifted lazily past the window, creating a serene winter wonderland outside. Y/N stirred awake, snuggled beneath the warm blankets. The scent of fresh coffee and something sweet wafted through the air, pulling her from the haze of sleep.

She turned her head and smiled at the sight of Yunjin sitting at the edge of the bed, holding a steaming mug. Yunjin was still in her pajamas, a cozy set of red flannel and her hair was slightly mussed from sleep.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Yunjin said, her voice soft and teasing. She handed Y/N the mug, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Good morning,” Y/N mumbled, sitting up and wrapping her hands around the warm cup. She took a sip, humming in delight. “Coffee and kisses first thing? I could get used to this.”

Yunjin laughed and pulled Y/N to her feet. “Come on, I made breakfast. Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

The two of them made their way to the kitchen, where the table was set with stacks of fluffy pancakes, a bowl of fresh fruit, and a small pitcher of syrup. They sat across from each other, sharing bites and stealing glances, the kind of quiet intimacy that only mornings like this could bring.

After breakfast, they bundled up in coats and scarves, ready to brave the snowy outdoors. The fresh snow crunched beneath their boots as they stepped outside, the cold air biting at their cheeks.

Yunjin bent down to scoop up a handful of snow, forming it into a ball with practiced precision. “You better run,” she warned playfully, her grin wide and mischievous.

Y/N yelped, ducking behind a tree just as the snowball whizzed past her. “Oh, it’s on!” she shouted, grabbing her own handful of snow and launching it toward Yunjin.

The quiet street filled with laughter as they chased each other through the snow, their cheeks pink from the cold and the effort. At one point, Yunjin caught Y/N off-guard, wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling her into a hug.

“No fair,” Y/N panted, giggling as she tried to catch her breath.

“All’s fair in love and snowball fights,” Yunjin teased, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on Y/N’s frostbitten nose.

They ended their snowy escapade by building a tiny snowman together, decorating it with pebbles for eyes and a twig for a smile. Y/N pulled out her phone, and they snapped a series of selfies, some cute, some silly to commemorate the morning.

Back inside, they warmed up with mugs of hot cocoa, their legs tangled together under a shared blanket on the couch. The Christmas tree lights twinkled softly in the background, casting the room in a golden glow.

Y/N rested her head on Yunjin’s shoulder, sighing contentedly. “This Christmas has been perfect.”

Yunjin kissed the top of her head, her voice quiet but firm. “It’s not the gifts or the snow or the decorations. It’s you. You make it perfect.”

Y/N tilted her head up, meeting Yunjin’s gaze with a tender smile. “And you make me feel like the luckiest person in the world.”

They sat there in comfortable silence, watching the snow fall outside. This Christmas wasn’t about the gifts they’d exchanged or the moments they’d captured in photos, it was about the love they’d shared, the memories they’d created, and the promise of many more holidays to come.

As the day stretched on, they stayed wrapped in each other’s warmth, savoring the simple, beautiful magic of being together.

#kpop imagines #girl group imagines #kpop x reader #huh yunjin x reader #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim x fem reader #gg x reader #huh yunjin x fem reader

99 notes · View notes

cosmowgyral · 5 days ago

Text

Villain's Festival 2025

This is a fan translation so please don't expect it to be 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

⊹▸ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

Ring: I’ll take you on!

Hearing his spirited younger brother’s voice from a short distance away, Nica smiled.

Keeping track of Ring’s presence so he could provide support at any time, he tightened his grip on the gun..and then, at that moment…

Victor, sword in hand, took a step closer to Nica.

Victor: Are you worried about your little brother? Such a beautiful display of brotherly affection.

He didn’t even glance in Ring’s direction, so I wonder how Victor figured out that Ring was in his mind.

Realizing that the Queen’s aide was not to be underestimated, Nica became wary.

Nica: I’m not worried. Doting on my little brother just happens to be a hit with the ladies. It’s only out of habit.

Victor: Doesn’t look that way to me, but I suppose this isn’t the time to argue.

Victor: Getting to know you all through conversation can wait until after I’ve become the strongest man.

Victor’s sharp strike came slashing through.

Nica bent backward to dodge, hiding the muzzle of his gun beneath the sweep of his coat.

Nica: Why did you come after me first?

Nica asked the question while keeping his distance, waiting for a moment when Victor would let his guard down.

Victor: Probably because you were the closest. It’s not like I deliberately chose to target you.

Victor: If I’m going to become the strongest, I’ll have to defeat everyone eventually. The order doesn’t really matter, does it?

Nica: Ohh? So you’re that eager to become the strongest for the cute little robin, huh?

The moment Nica uttered ‘robin’, a brief opening appeared in Victor’s defence.

Seizing that moment, Nica pulled the trigger.

With the sound of the gunshot, Nica’s bullet found its way to Victor--

---or so it should have.

Alfons: Pardon me for a moment.

Alfons suddenly appeared, slipping between Nica and Victor.

He swung his sword, aiming for Victor’s neck.

Victor: Woops…!

Barely dodging Alfons’ attack, Victor also managed to evade Nica’s bullet.

Nica: …You’re quite lucky.

Nica fired several shots at Alfons’ feet, aiming to intimidate him.

Alfons nimbly dodged them, and as the bullets struck the ground, a cloud of dust rose.

Alfons: Whoa now, that’s dangerous! Using a gun is just plain unfair!

Nica: I’m not the only one using a gun here… Besides, I switched to weaker bullets before we started, so it’s fine isn’t it?

Nica: And what about you? I was fighting Victor, and you just had to butt in. Isn’t that a bit rude?

Alfons: Can’t be helped. My target is Lord Victor, after all.

Victor: Huh? You want to come after me? Did I do something to make you hold a grudge..?

Alfons: No, you did nothing.

Alfons: It’s just…I remembered that Lord Elbert mentioned wanting you before.

Victor: No way…my life?

Alfons: Your luscious, beautiful hair! That’s what I’m after!

Victor: That’s something I absolutely have to prevent!

Alfons swung his sword relentlessly, with Victor meeting each strike with his own blade.

Nica wondered which of the two he should target to turn the situation in his favor.

Harrison: ….Well then, how about you keep me company?

While Nica was still deciding, Harrison appeared and swung his sword at him.

Though Harrison usually relied on his gun, in this chaotic brawl, he skilfully switched between a sword and a firearm.

Impressed by Harrison’s versatility, Nica quickly ducked.

But he couldn’t evade completely, and a few strands of his hair floated away in the wind.

Nica: Ah…whoa, watch it! Don’t aim for my face!

Nica: If anything happens to this face, there’ll be a lot of heartbroken girls, you know?

Harrison: You’re just going to comfort them and have your way with them anyway. So I don’t really care.

With a cold expression, Harrison kept his sights on Nica. Meanwhile, the battle between Alfons and Victor raged on beside them.

Victor: My hair exists to gently embrace everyone in Crown… I can’t afford to lose it!

Alfons: I don’t care. I’ll trim that lovely hair of yours perfectly.

Victor: Try it if you think you can!

Alfons and Victor’s swords clashed fiercely, but Victor was the first to step forward.

Alfons: Damn it…! You’re quite impressive, Lord Victor..!

Victor: Aflons, I’ll be pushing through like this…!

But this opening left Victor dangerously exposed.

Harrison: You let your guard down, didn’t you, Victor!

Harrison, who had been fighting Nica, suddenly turned his blade toward Victor.

Victor: Wha-Harrison…!? Damn..!

The blade closed in on Victor, about to strike him down, when in that instant---

A single gunshot echoed, and Harrison’s sword was knocked aside.

Harrison: Wha--…?!

Alfons: Oh my, what’s this…?!

For a moment, all eyes turned to Nica, thinking he had interfered.

Nica: Wasn’t me. ….He’s the one who fired.

Nica pointed toward Roger---who stood there with his rifle at the ready.

Roger: …Jumping in late and stopping the finishing blow is pretty fun, you know.

Harrison: You’re quite the nasty one, aren’t you….

Roger: I’ll take that as a compliment.

Roger gave a sly grin and aimed his gun at Harrison, Alfons, Victor, and Nica—one after another.

Roger: Alright then, let’s do this again. Let me trip you lot up.

Roger: Also, it’d be great if you used your cursed abilities a bit more. I’d like to gather some data.

Alfons: …Wouldn’t it be easier if you fought directly? Or are those muscles just for show?

Roger: If I jump in, the data’ll get biased. Come on now, you four get back to fighting.

Harrison’s expression shifted at Roger’s words.

Harrison: …You’re lying about there being only four of us. There’s someone else here….!

Just as Harrison raised his gun in caution, a sigh of exasperation echoed.

Liam: Roger, why do you always have to say something unnecessary…?

Liam: Come on now, saying ‘you four' in front of Harry? Of course he’d figure out there’s a fifth person.

Nica: Liam Evans… So you were using your ability to turn invisible and target us, huh?

At Nica’s words, Liam finally revealed himself—standing there with a knife pointed at Harrison.

Liam: I was so close to taking down Harry… but Roger had to ruin it with his slip-up.

Roger: That wasn’t a slip-up. I did it on purpose.

Roger: If someone like me, who can hear your heartbeat and breathing, kept quiet about you, you’d have too much of an advantage.

Roger: I’d rather drag this brawl out as long as possible and gather some quality data.

Worrying about a brother, craving someone’s hair, gathering data---

Amidst the clash to determine the strongest, countless motives collided—plunging the battle into deeper chaos.

[Chapter 1] [Masterlist] [Chapter 3]

➽──────────────❥

Gosh, they are being so silly. Nica being worried about his face and Victor being worried about his hair... 😆

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikevil #ikevil jp #ikevil translations #ikevil roger #ikevil nica #ikevil victor #ikevil liam #ikevil harrison #harrison gray #liam evans #nica schwartz #roger barel #ikevil alfons #alfons sylvatica #d: omiresources

128 notes · View notes

navia3000 · 8 months ago

Text

Under the Stars - T. Riddle

Pairing : Tom Riddle x Slytherin!Reader

Warnings : Slight use of Y/N, use of the word ‘damn’

Genre : Fluff, or, in which reader and Tom go on a much unexpected date

A/N : Part two of Amortentia is here! Thank you to @vivisandg @cats-and-sheep and @kenobi-baby for requesting a part two! I really am proud of this, so I hope you guys like it as much as I do! Also, two posts in one day, I feel so proud 🥲

Part 1

Masterlist

Requests are OPEN

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

It had been a week since Y/N’s fate was revealed to her, a fate which led her straight to none other than Tom Marvolo Riddle. They had talked now and then, he would wait for her and walk her to class, but she felt awkward around him, as though her lips were sown together by the string of her shyness. He noticed this, of course, yet he still put in the effort to talk to her, a fact she greatly appreciated; one which would make butterflies express their wings in her stomach.

It wasn’t until she sat in the library studying, when an opportunity for more arose. As she flipped through her Charms textbook, a folded piece of parchment fell onto her lap.

Confused, she glanced around, yet the library appeared empty. She plucked the note from her lap, and gasped as she read it.

‘Meet me in the Astronomy Tower at 10.

Your dearest,

Tom M. Riddle.’

She didn’t know what to think. He wanted her to break curfew to meet him, but, as she thought about it, she couldn’t help but be curious as to the nature of the meeting. Is this a date? Should she dress nice? Damn him for being so ambiguous in his note.

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

Her hands shook as she ascended the steps to the Astronomy Tower. She didn’t know what to expect, nor what would be waiting for her. Her fingers tugged her coat tighter around her frame, a shield against the cold and the nerves.

As she went up the final step, her eyes found the back of Tom Riddle, his figure turned away from her and leaned against the railing. What caught her eye, however, was the hundreds of candles which littered the floor.

He turned to face her, her gasp alerting him of her presence. She was left speechless as her eyes adjusted to the tiny flames, his eyes trained on her and her reaction.

“Do you like it?” He asked after a moment.

“Yes, this is,” she took a beat to find the words, “it’s beautiful,” she spoke as she stepped closer to him.

“I’m glad.” He held out his arm to her, which she gladly took, as they settled on the railing of the tower, his grip on her steady to give her a sense of safety.

The pair stood in silence for a couple minutes, both enjoying each other’s presence too much to speak.

“You know, I- I once read a book in which there was this boy who was in love with this girl, and she tells him that if he wants to be with her, he has to catch a falling star for her, and so he spends the rest of his life trying to catch a star, but, every time they reach the earth, they shatter. And, in the end, she marries someone else and he dies while chasing stars. It’s quite tragic, but, every time I look at the stars, I can’t help but think about how they represent his devotion and love for her, yet it will never be enough, cause every time, it shatters.” She turns to look at Tom, and finds him staring intently at her. “Anyway, that just came to mind.” He kept staring, the corners of his mouth turning up. “What?” She asked, becoming self-conscious by his staring.

He shook his head, “nothing, you’re just,” he paused, “you’re incredible.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she had to break his gaze to keep from melting in front of him. It had only been a week since their discovery, yet she felt as though she had known this introverted boy her whole life. He was nothing like she expected him to be. And she loved it.

“Thank you.”

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

The rest of their night was spent talking; they shared anecdotes and discussed literature, and the seconds turned into minutes and the minutes turned into hours.

They found themselves sitting in the middle of the candles, facing each other and laughing constantly.

Once a comfortable silence fell over the two, Tom felt compelled to speak. “I want to ask you something. You are absolutely in your right to say no, I respect you and your answer.”

She began to get nervous at his words, wondering what on earth could be so important for him to word that way. He was always so well-spoken, something she deeply admired, however found intimidating in the moment.

“I would like to take you out. On a date. Again, you can say no. I know it’s only been a week since we began to get to know each other, however, I can’t stop thinking about you ever since that class. It’s as though you have enchanted me, and I welcome it with open arms. I want to court you, if you’d do me the honor.” His words melted her heart as though he was the sun and she was the snow. She was sure she was falling for this boy, and she didn’t want any parachute to soften her landing.

“I would love that,” her words were like honey to him, her soft hand covering his. He took her fingers in his, bringing them to his lips, leaving what can only be described as a most gentle touch, and moving them to his chest.

Serenity took over the two. As he committed her features to memory, he thought he would gladly spend the rest of his life putting together the pieces of a fallen star if it would make her smile.

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

#tom riddle fluff #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter masterlist #harry potter headcanon #harry potter

258 notes · View notes

moonybelgug · 26 days ago

Text

warnings: fem!reader, children lmao, not much really, being referred to as 'mother', no smut, some drunken flirting. building relationships with the kids. i took so long to do this part...... sorries.,, part 1 part 2

After a month of getting your affairs in order, you’d like to think you’ve made some semblance of a job out of your situation. You started with watching Arlecchino, figuring out what it was that she did that made her the “Father.” It turns out, that was simply not showing emotion to the children and holding them to high expectations. But trying to convince them to open up to you was aimless, seeing as most of them had been taught that emotions were weakness, (you’re going to work on that later,) and do not even trust you to begin with. So you began in the kitchen. As much as you are not a cook, you know your way around some beloved childhood recipes, and so you helped the kitchen staff learn more homely food. Rather than something bland and fancy for breakfast, you give them the recipe to pancakes and you visit each child to ask what they would like their’s topped with. Lunches became a build your own sandwich buffet, which was met with more excitement that you anticipated and dinners stayed the same for the most part- protein and veggies. However, your presence alone comforted scared and picky kids to try new and scary foods they wouldn’t have before (and you snuck them something you knew they’d like afterward.)

It was a long day, but you had managed to lead the last group of kids to eat, the rest of them were either in the showers or in bed. You stood in the doorway of the dining hall, arms crossed as you watch them eat and chatter. A warm presence sidled up next to you, your arms brushing against each other. You saw less of Arlecchino than you had expected. She was also less involved with the children, or at least, from what you could see. You truly had no idea what she really did, you knew she was a harbinger and very strong but you couldn’t begin to fathom what she did outside these walls. You didn’t really want to.

“Good evening, Father, are you joining us for dinner?” You ask her as she brushes against you.

She hums thoughtfully, as though considering it as she always does. “Not tonight. But thank you for the invitation, Mother.”

You can’t help but blush and hope she didn’t see it. The way she says your title.. it feels as though she is purring it, tasting it in her mouth before speaking it. Arlecchino looks down at you from the visage of her children eating. “They are happier since you had arrived. How did you manage that in only a month?”

“I’m not sure myself,” you say, feeling warm under her gaze. “I just.. I tried to live up to my name. I can’t help but want to know them all, even if a few of them scare me.” Though, none have threatened your life, seeing such young people with weapons is never a reassuring sight.

Arlecchino laughs and turns to walk into the main entrance room, away from the dining hall. You cast another glance at the children before following her.

She’s walking into the foyer, reaching for her coat. “Did I not scare you when we first met?” She asks, pulling her hair from the back of the gray jacket.

“Maybe a tad. But that’s because of how I was raised, you know that,” you say, pouting a little. She tuts, reaching for your cheek to pinch before she thinks about it and pulls away..

“Still so cute. You scared me too, you know. All bright eyed and excited, talking my ear off about things I couldn’t give a damn about. Reaching through that fence to try and touch me…” she sighs and shakes her head. “I’ll be gone for a while. I’ll see you again soon, I’m sure.”

Before she gets too far out of the entrance, she hears you sigh disapprovingly. “Playing the absent father, are we?” It makes her chuckle.

Thunder sounds all around you, shaking the Hearth and startling you from your sleep. Thunder was never a pleasant experience, but you wouldn’t say you feared it. But that was just your experience. There was a gentle knock at the your bedroom door.

You wrap a robe around yourself, wondering who could be knocking at this hour and open the door a crack to see who was there and were met with tens of other eyes, all stricken with fear. You open your door all the way, unsure what to say at first in the face of these frightened children. Many of them were younger, but there were a few older ones among them, looking sheepish.

“Well.. come along, if you’re coming,” you say, watching seven children file in.

It’s not long before you’re kicked out of bed by squirming children. You don’t mind so much, it was getting to hot to even sleep, much less with a bunch of squirming limbs poking you in the side this way and that. You take a trip to the bathroom, then out the window you see the rain has loosened up a bit, it’s still coming down but less so than before, and the thunder is all but distant rumbles.

You rub on the window, removing some of the fog and just happen to see a tall figure approaching the Hearth. Who on Teyvat could be visiting at this hour? You move to look at the clock ticking in the hallway. It’s midnight. Nobody in their right mind would journey all the way through the storm just to make an unplanned visit… unless they were attempting to enter without permission.

You race downstairs in bare feet, your nightgown and making you appear threatening as ever. You make it to the door before they do, so you grab an iron poker from the fireplace as your weapon. Stealthily, you move beside the door, waiting quietly for it to click open so you can bash in whoever is trying to get in. This moment leads you to think about how there’s little to no security and it makes you shake your head. Perhaps the Fatui’s reputation doesn’t scare everyone away.

The doorknob clicks and then turns, opening slowly. You raise the fire poker above your head and prepare to bludgeon this person, but as you bring it down, the intruder catches it and pins you against the wall beside the door. She laughs, covering in water from the rain, shaking her head unceremoniously. You squint as a few drops land on your cheek.

“Per- What are you doing!?” You all but yell, remembering there are people sleeping.

Arlecchino kicks the door shut with her boot. “If I let you go, promise you won’t stab me?”

You roll your eyes and she lets you go. “I had to return to retrieve something. Didn’t think I’d bother anybody coming at night, but it seems I was mistaken.”

Arlecchino stands up straight. She’s wearing something completely different from when you saw her only five hours ago, her cheeks are even flushed as though she had been drinking.

“What did you forget? I can fetch it for you,” you offer, lowering you weapon to hold by your hips.

Arlecchino taps on her bottom lip, as though considering her options. “Dinner? Or maybe a spar, since you seem so apt to attack unknown trespassers. Or, maybe some of those kisses you used to give.” She grins, leaning into the juncture of your neck and jaw, running the tip of her nose down to your collar bone.

She was definitely drunk. If that line didn’t tell you, the wine on her breath did.

“Father, perhaps you should lie down-“

“Doooon’t call me that,” she groans, her palm coming to her forehead as if it gave her an instant migraine. “Call me anything but not that. In fact, call me Peruere again, hm?”

Her arms encircle your waist before her hands settle on your hips. She gives your nightie a passing glance before lifting her eyes to yours. “So? What’ll it be?” She asks with a smirk. You assume she’s talking about the options of what she wants from you. The kitchens are closed down and you’re definitely not fighting her, so it seems you’re left with one option.

“If I kiss you, will you cooperate and tell me what you’re doing here?”

“I swear, on my title as a harbinger,” she grins.

You sigh, looking at her rosy complexion and then you lean in, kissing her gently on the cheek. She tilts her head leaning into it, closing her eyes. Her head turns slightly, your lips glancing over each other. You can’t help your blush as you pull away but her arms tug you closer. You brace yourself at her shoulders and create some distance. She’s clearly wasted and far be it from you to allow this to go further than it already has. You catch her inhaling the scent of your hair.

“Peruere, what is it you came here for?”

She doesn’t answer for a while, her eyes avoiding yours. You never could read those dark eyes, and you never notice how they pull you in, like a magnet. Standing up straight, she takes your left hand, running her thumb across your knuckles before stilling at your ring finger. Her nail digs into the diamond before she releases your hand, leaving you warm. “Apologies, Mother,” she says coldly. Suddenly sober, she lets you go, adjusting her clothes. “I should see you soon. Don’t forget your duties.”

Before you can argue with her about that retort, she leaves, shutting the door firmly.

The next morning you wake up feeling hot with a heavy weight on your chest, before you remember what happened last night. It’s still raining outside, but it seems that Celestia had calmed down.

But you jump all the same when your door suddenly flies open. A maid stands there, holding a case, but her eyes widen at the sight of four children laying on your bed and three laying underneath and your helpless face being the only part of you she can see.

“Your… finacè is here to see you,” she says softly.

#moonywrites⋆˖☾₊‧⁺˖⋆#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #arlecchino x female reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino x y/n #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino genshin #its giving sound of music #divider by cafekitsune

99 notes · View notes

biblical-chronicles · 3 months ago

Text

Puddles

________________________________________

where a small Anaïs brings the reader and Noel together.

________________________________________

The winter air bit at your cheeks as you pulled into Noel’s driveway, a little bag in hand containing the pedal he’d left behind at the studio. You could’ve just brought it to the next session, but you figured it’d be easier for him to have it sooner rather than later. Plus, you were in the area, and you also may have had a little bit of a crush on the man.

You knocked on the door, only having to wait a moment before it swung open. Noel stood there, looking about one step away from a mental breakdown, only muttering a quiet “God help me.” under his breath.

You blinked, caught a bit off guard. “Alright, what’s got you so dramatic this time?”

Before he could answer, the shrill voice of a small child echoed from somewhere inside. “NO, DAD, NO!”

You peeked around him and spotted the source of his woes—Anaïs, sitting cross-legged on the floor, clutching a wool hat in her tiny fists like it had personally insulted her.

“She’s supposed to wear the bloody thing ‘cause it’s freezin’ out, but no,” Noel said, throwing his hands up. “Apparently, hats are public enemy number one today. Yesterday they were fine, but not today.”

You couldn’t help but just laugh at his misery at which he just shot you a look of pure betrayal.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” you teased. “This is brilliant. Rock legend Noel Gallagher brought to his knees by a three-year-old and a hat.”

Anaïs, upon hearing your voice, stopped her tantrum and turned. Her eyes lit up when she saw you standing there. “Y/N!” she squealed, abandoning the hat entirely and making a beeline for you, throwing her arms around your leg in a tight embrace.

“Well, hello to you too,” you said, squatting down to her level. “What’s all this fuss about, then? Your dad says you don’t like your hat very much.”

Anaïs pouted, crossing her arms. “It’s itchy, and it’s ugly, and I hate it.”

“Ah, I see.” You tapped your chin, pretending to consider her argument. “But you know, hats are pretty cool. Look, I’m wearing one too.” You tugged at the brim of your own beanie, grinning at her.

Anaïs tilted her head, clearly weighing her options. After a moment, she picked up the discarded hat and held it out to you. “You wear it.” she commanded.

“Alright, deal.” You took the hat, slipping it on and giving her a little twirl for effect. “How do I look?”

Anaïs giggled, clapping her hands. “Good! Really good!”

“Well, there you go,” you said, taking the hat off and handing it back to her. “If it looks good on me, it’ll look even better on you, yeah?”

Anaïs nodded solemnly, as if you’d just delivered the most profound wisdom of her short life. She plopped the hat onto her head, adjusting it until it sat snugly. “I’m ready!”

Noel, who had been watching the whole interaction, just let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Of course. Two minutes with you, and she’s a bloody angel. I try all mornin’, and I’m gettin’ screamed at like I’ve just committed a war crime.”

You just started laughing at him again as Anaïs looked up at you proudly. “See, Dad?” she said, tugging at his sleeve. “We’re wearing the same hat now. How cool is that?”

“Yeah,” Noel deadpanned, “so cool.”

Finally, you remembered the bag in your hand. “Oh, right, I came to drop this off,” you said, holding it out to Noel. “Your pedal. You left it at the studio.”

“You’re a saint,” he said, taking the bag and setting it on a nearby shelf. “Dunno what I’d do without ya.”

Before you could reply, Anaïs grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the door. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

Noel followed, grabbing his coat. “Oi, slow down, we’re not in a race.”

But Anaïs suddenly stopped in her tracks, turning to look up at you with big, pleading eyes. “Are you coming with us?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Noel said quickly. “She’s got work and—”

Anaïs cut him off with a firm, “No. I’m not going if she’s not going.”

You glanced between the two of them, biting back a laugh. “Well,” you said, squatting down again to Anaïs’s level, “I suppose I can join you. It’d be my pleasure.”

Anaïs beamed, reaching for your hand again, and Noel just stood there, watching the two of you with a look you couldn’t quite place. Maybe a bit of frustration. Maybe a bit of awe. Maybe a bit of love.

“Alright,” Noel said finally, voice softer than usual. “Let’s go, then.”

The three of you walked down the quiet street, the crisp air turning your breath into little clouds. Anaïs skipped along beside you, her tiny hand clutching yours tightly, while Noel trailed slightly behind, hands shoved in his coat pockets.

“You should come over more,” Anaïs chirped, looking up at you with a toothy grin. “It’s way more fun when you’re here.”

“Yeah?” you asked, glancing down at her. “What makes it so fun, then?”

She tilted her head, thinking for a moment before answering, “You sing better than Dad. And you know all the good songs.”

Noel snorted from behind you. “Oi, I heard that!”

Anaïs giggled, covering her mouth with her free hand. “It’s true!” she whispered loudly, as if he wouldn’t hear.

You couldn’t help but laugh, squeezing her hand. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The walk continued in comfortable chatter, Anaïs alternating between skipping and walking, her energy seemingly endless. Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks, her gaze fixed on something up ahead.

“What is it?” you asked, following her line of sight.

“It’s a puddle,” she said, pointing to a shallow pool of water on the pavement. She leaned forward, examining it as if it were some rare artifact.

“You like jumping in puddles?” you asked.

Anaïs shook her head. “I never really did that yet.”

You blinked, genuinely surprised. “Never? Oh, we’ve got to change that. Look at your wellies—they’re perfect for it!”

Her eyes lit up with curiosity and excitement. “Really?”

“Really,” you said, taking her hand again and guiding her toward the puddle. “Come on, let’s try it out.”

With a bit of encouragement, Anaïs took her first tentative hop into the puddle, sending a small splash of water out around her boots. She froze for a moment, then burst into giggles.

“Look at you, already an expert” you said, joining her in the puddle. “Now, like this—big jump.” You leapt, sending water spraying around your shoes. Anaïs followed suit, her laughter echoing down the street.

Noel stood off to the side, watching you with admiration, a smile automatically forming on his face.

“Come on, Noel,” you called over to him, grinning. “Have some fun for once!”

“Yeah, Dad!” Anaïs chimed in, hopping up and down. “It’s fun! You have to try!”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking torn. “I dunno… I’m not exactly dressed for this sort of thing.”

“Oh, stop making excuses,” you teased. “You can handle a bit of water, can’t you?”

Anaïs quickly walked over to him, tugging at his hand. “Please, Dad? Just one jump?”

He sighed, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. One jump. Don’t expect me to make a habit of this.”

You and Anaïs cheered as Noel stepped cautiously into the puddle, his boots making a soft splash. He glanced at you both, shaking his head, before taking a half-hearted hop.

“Oh, come on,” you said, laughing. “That was pathetic. Give us a proper jump, Gallagher.”

Anaïs giggled, bouncing on her toes. “Yeah, Dad! Like this!” She leapt into the air, landing with a loud splash that sent water flying.

Not to disappoint her, Noel gave a real jump this time, his landing sending another wave of water outward. You all laughed, the moment surprisingly carefree.

Then Anaïs, perhaps getting a little too enthusiastic, landed with a forceful splash that sent some muddy water flying right onto your face.

You froze, blinking as the cold mud dripped down your cheek. Noel burst out laughing, doubling over as Anaïs clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oops!” she squeaked, eyes wide.

You wiped at your face, trying to suppress your own laughter. “Well,” you said, grinning, “I guess that’s what I get for encouraging you.”

“Sorry,” Anaïs said, but she was giggling too hard to sound sincere.

Noel shook his head, still laughing softly, and reached into his pocket. “Lucky for you, I grabbed some tissues before we left,” he said, pulling a slightly crumpled packet out. He stepped closer, unfolding one and holding it up to your cheek. “Stay still, yeah?”

You blinked as he dabbed at the mud on your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. The closeness caught you off guard and your cheeks warmed as his brow furrowed in concentration.

“There we go,” he muttered, stepping back slightly but still far closer than you’d expected.

Before you could find something to say, Anaïs chimed in excitedly.“kiss! kiss! kiss!”

Both of you froze, eyes wide. “What?” you and Noel said in unison, glancing at each other before turning back to her.

“Please!” Anaïs pleaded, her little hands clasped together. “Just like in the movies!”

Noel’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked at you, his lips twitching as if he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or protest. “She’s got a wild imagination, hasn’t she?” he said, his voice a little tight.

You bit your lip, your own face heating up. “Well,” you said, trying to play it cool, “if the princess requests…”

Noel’s eyes locked with yours, then, as if on some unspoken agreement, he leaned in. The kiss was soft and brief, a tentative brush of lips, but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

Anaïs erupted into cheers, clapping her hands as she spun in the puddle. “Yay!”

You and Noel broke apart, both of you laughing nervously as your cheeks burned. “Happy now, then?” he asked her, ruffling her hair.

“Very happy!” she declared, beaming up at you both.

Noel turned back to you, his expression shifting to something softer. “As much as I’m not gonna make a habit out of puddle jumpin’,” he said, his voice quieter now, “I’d gladly make a habit out of this.”

Your breath caught, his words hanging in the air between you. You smiled, feeling a bit dazed but undeniably happy. “I’d gladly let you make a habit out of it,” you replied, leaning in to peck him on the lips again.

Anaïs clapped her hands once more, clearly delighted. “Does that mean she’s gonna come over more often?”

Noel chuckled, glancing at her and then back at you. “Yeah,” he said, his voice warm. “Definitely.”

Anaïs cheered, running ahead as you and Noel fell into step beside each other, both of you smiling like fools.

________________________________________

Right, as promised, here’s the Noel version. Didn’t wanna just nick the Liam fic, so I came up with this for today. Proper cute to write, hope you lot are into it.

And no worries, I didn't forget about all the other requests—day off tomorrow, so I’ll scribble me arse off for ya, swear down xx

#oasis x reader #oasis one shots #oasis band #britpop x f!reader #britpop x reader #britpop fanfiction #noel gallagher x reader #noel gallagher x you #noel gallagher one shots #noel gallagher fanfiction #noel gallagher #oasis noel gallagher #noel gallagher x y/n #noel gallagher x f!reader

74 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months ago

Text

Summer Breeze 6

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You sleep sitting up. Aside from the stiffness in your muscles, your stomach is gurgling from the greasy meal. The night fraught with worry and restlessness leaves your head even more cloudy than before. It’s real, you know it, and yet you just don’t want to accept it.

The doctor comes after 8am. He checks your father’s vital and makes some notes on his chart. Andy asks about his condition as you can’t bring yourself to speak. He looks ragged and tired, you must not come off any better.

“We’ll have to wait until he’s stable to make any further determination. We’ll need to test his cognizance along with his physical capabilities. The injury like has caused a TBI, meaning the effects will vary. He’ll need to be monitored well beyond his time here,” the doctor explains as Andy listens intently. You cling to every word but your mind is reeling. “Best to discuss what sort of therapies would be covered by insurance.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Andy says, “thanks, doctor.”

“Of course. You did a good job getting him here quickly,” the man in the white coat pauses and sends you definitive look, “keeping pressure on him. You both saved his life.”

Your eyes sting and your nose burns. You can't cry. Not yet. Once you crack, you know that’s it. You won’t be able to stop. Your cheeks tug and you thank him, swallowing down the swell of horror.

“Andy,” you eke out as the doctor leaves, “I couldn’t get through to my mom. Do you mind if I try again?”

“Hm, I haven’t charged my phone,” he slides his cell from his pocket, “I’m at twelve percent. Could do the trick.”

“Oh, maybe I could ask the nurse’s desk. I think I saw a patient phone around here.”

“Good idea,” he nods. “I texted Jacob but I don’t think he has service up there. We’ll need to go grab some clothes so how about we do that today?”

“I... I can’t leave my dad,” you insist.

“Sweetheart, they said he’s going to be out for some time.”

“He shouldn’t wake up alone,” you argue.

“Alright,” he shows his palm appeasingly, “I’ll drive up, grab your stuff, and we’ll get everything else sorted when I get back.”

“I can do this,” you avow, as much to yourself as him, “you’ve done enough.”

“Right, I know, you’re a strong girl. But what do you do next? Once you talk to mom. You gotta call insurance, right? Do you have what they need? You’ll need the plan number, that’s probably in his wallet, right? You’ll at least need proof of ID. We brought him in in his trunks and nothing else. All that’s up at the cottage,” he shakes his head, “I don’t doubt you can handle it but a little help can’t hurt.”

Your eyes widen and you sigh. You drag your hands down your cheek, “yeah...”

“You can’t think of it all right now. That’s expected. You should worry about him. So I’ll deal with the details.”

“Andy,” you utter, “I...” you look at your dad and get up, shuffling to his bedside. You take his hand, careful not to tug the tubes and tape, “I owe you.”

“It’s what people do for each other, right? I’m a dad too. I know if anything happened to me, Jacob would be lost.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah,” you crackle from your dry throat.

“Try to rest if you can,” he sniffs and scratches his beard, “I’ll be quick. As quick as possible.”

“Sure,” you squeeze your dad’s hand, barely hearing Andy. You just want him to wake up, or maybe you can wake up from this nightmare.

🌅

You force yourself out of the room to ask the nurse about a phone. She points you towards a worn phone down a few halls meant for emergency calls. You punch in your mom’s number and wait for it to dial. It takes six tries for her to answer but you won’t give up this time.

“Hey, what’s up?” She answers casually.

You don’t answer right away. You can hear the lightness in her voice and the rustle of unknown movement. She’s busy with something or someone. Probably her latest fling.

“Mom,” you scratch out, “it’s dad.”

“What is it now? Tell me he’s not drank himself into the tank again. He’s too old for that.”

“Mom,” you say firmer than before, “mom, he’s hurt.”

“Hurt. Well, call the paramedics, I don’t know,” she giggles and you sigh.

“We’re at the hospital,” you raise your voice, “he’s... he’s not awake. He hit his head. And I... I’m scared.”

She’s silent. You hear her move around and she excuses herself. A door clicks on her end and she scoffs, “well, what do you want me to do about it? He’s your father.”

You’re stunned by her callous response.

“And I’m your daughter,” you insist, “what... you should...” you shake your head and deflate. “Well, mom,” your voice cracks, “I’m sorry I interrupted fun for something so stupid as this.”

“Honey, please, I’m a bit shocked is all,” she squeaks, “I mean what can I do from so far away. For my ex-husband of all people? You’re an adult. You need to learn how to handle these things.”

“Gee, thanks, mom,” you sneer and slam the phone on the hook.

You don’t know why you expected any different. You’re not at her house because she told you plainly that she didn’t want you spoiling her fun. She gave up trying to be a parent the minute you turned eighteen.

You roll your eyes back against a new wave of tears; these one angry. You guess you just need to grow up. It’s your turn to take care of your dad.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #series #drabble #defending jacob #summer breeze

168 notes · View notes

gallavichsreddie1128 · 9 months ago

Text

Whatever It Takes (Homelander)

Description: Homelander killed Y/N’s parents years ago and when she meets Billy Butcher she tells him she’ll do anything to kill Homelander and she has the ultimate weapon. But things don’t go as planned.

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1,790

Author’s note: I do plan on a part two of this soon! Also send in requests for The Boys!

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” She said with a straight face to the man across from her. Billy Butcher. He looked at her like he was trying to figure her out. What was her purpose and what could she do? “You plan to help kill Homelander?” He asked. “I plan to kill him with or without help.” He wanted to laugh. Did she think she could do that all by herself? “What makes you think you can do that all by yourself?” He asked, amused. “I have an advantage.” “Tits and Vag? A lot of people have that.” She rolled her eyes, “more than that.”

Y/N was a copy of Billy. From the attitude to the button up shirts the boys called her the female Billy. The only difference is that she doesn’t need a team and she wouldn’t put someone’s life in danger that wasn’t hers. Y/N was a supe herself and she had an odd power but she knew that Homelander would love it so she was going to use it to her advantage. Billy smirked as she told him and knew that she would be a perfect member of The Boys.

The others stared at her as she introduced herself. She dressed just like Billy but she seemed nicer and not as demanding. Annie and Kumiko were excited to have another girl in the group. “We could use her to take down Homelander.” Billy said and the woman nodded. “What do you got?” MM asked her. “I have something that we can use against Homelander.” She said. “What’s that?” Y/N unbuttoned her top causing the guys to look at her strangely.

She took it off to reveal a bra. She took that off and on display were her boobs. “Tits?” Frenchie asked. Y/N chuckled, “Hand me that glass.” She said and MM did without looking away from her chest. She held the glass up to one of her nipples and milk came out and into the glass. “So you’re pregnant?” Hughie asked. “Nope, that is my power.” She shrugged. “How’s this supposed to help kill Homelander?” Frenchie asked. “Homelander loves Milk. He has some weird obsession with it and it makes him horny.” She reveals to the group. Everyone was wondering how she knew this but didn’t ask the question. She put back on her bra and shirt, “I plan to use it to my advantage to get on his good side.” She said, though Butcher didn’t like that idea at all.

“You can’t fuck him.” Billy told her as she walked out of his room in her red lingerie. “Who said that? I’m gonna tease him.” She said. Billy saw MM and Frenchie staring at her so he gave her his trench coat. She sighed and put it on, “You don’t have to worry Billy. But this is my advantage and I’m gonna use it to get my way.” She said.

Y/N walked to the Vought tower in Billy’s trench coat. She figured since he gave her this she didn’t need to put on anything else. She walked in and acted like she knew what she was doing. She had scoped out the place a few times and knew where everything was. She got in the elevator and in there with her was FireCracker. Y/N hated that bitch. She actually wanted to fuck Homelander. The bitch was obsessed and Y/N couldn’t see why.

They didn’t talk but she kept glancing at Y/N. Y/N got off on the floor that Homelander’s room was and Firecracker watched before the elevator closed where she was going. Nobody was in the hall considering it was getting late. Y/N knocked on the door and she heard him groan. He opened the door and she gave him a smile. “Who the fuck are you?” He asked, annoyed. “We can talk about that when you let me in.” She said.

“So let me get this straight, you want to be a part of Vought and maybe the Seven so you came to me?” He asked. She nodded and he chuckled. “Why not Stan?” He asked. She walked up to him and cupped his face, “Cuz you’re the big man. He’s not.” Y/N said seductively. “So you think fucking me will you get you what you want?” She sighed and stepped back from him. She opened her trench coat to reveal her lingerie. He stared and sniffed the air making her smirk. “You give me what I want and I’ll give you what you want.” She said.

She grabbed a glass that was sitting near and pulled her bra down a bit to reveal a breast. He watched as she milked herself in the cup. His jaw dropped, so that’s what he was smelling? She was lactating. She held up the cup and he felt himself almost drool. “You want it baby? Come and get it.” She said, He walked up to her but she stopped him from grabbing the cup. “On your knees.” She whispered and he dropped to his knees. She held the cup up to his mouth and tipped it so he could drink from it. She watched him drink the milk like it was the last time he ever would. She ran her other hand through his hair, “That’s it baby. You’re such a good boy.” She cooed as he finished the milk.

She saw he was rock hard through his suit and smirked. She back up against a table that was in the room and motioned him to come over to her with her finger. He crawled over to her and did not break eye contact. She looked down at him as he began kissing her thighs. She ran her hand through his hair again and called him a good boy. He smiled against her thigh. “Make me cum and I’ll give you some more Milk.” She said. He stands up and pulls the trench coat off her body. She lets him and lifts her hips to take off her panties. He bit his lip and watched as she did so. “Can I fuck you?” He asked.

She almost forgot that she hated him for a second and told Billy that she wasn’t going to but this was going so well. She cupped his face and looked at him, “You better.” She said and bit her lip. She pulled him closer and took off his pants letting his dick free. She undid her bra and let it slide off. His mouth watered at the sight of her tits. “Fuck me and I’ll let you suck on them until you cum.” She whispers in his hair and he moans at her words. Within seconds he was inside her. He was very big and filled her up causing her to gasp. “Fuck.” He groaned at the feeling.

She wrapped her hands around his neck and bit her lip. She was incredibly sexy and he didn’t know what he needed until now. His hips started thrusting hard into her, knocking the table. Her head fell back and soft moans left her lips. He shoved his face into her neck and let out some of the hottest noises she’s ever heard. Her hand reached up and gripped his hair as he fucked her. All she could hear was his breathing and moans. He didn’t even know her name. He felt himself twitch and pushed her down on the table.

She looked up at him with pleading eyes. “I’m close.” He warned and she nodded. She pulled him down and his face was in her chest. “Suck them.” She moaned and he didn’t have to be told twice. His shaky lips wrapped themselves around one of her nipples causing her to moan out. He began to suck on it and moaned at the taste of her milk. “Fuck Homelander. I’m so fucking close.” She whined and him sucking her nipple helped it.

He groaned and she gasped as she felt herself release all over his cock. Before he could cum she pushed him off her and he was surprised by her strength. She smirked and sat up pulling his head to her boob again. Her hand found his cock and began jerking him off while he drank her milk. She looked down at him in pure hate as he moaned and hummed as he drank her. She felt him twitch in her hand and she smirked.

He came all over her hand whining against her tit as he came so hard. She milked him as he did her for every last drop. She sighed and pushed him away. Neither of them said a word as they thought about what just happened. She got up and got dressed. “Well that was fun John.” She said and put the trench coat back on. “How do you know my name?” He asked. She smirked up at him. “I know my ways.” She said and left him standing there in shock.

This was something they did a lot and Y/N learned a lot about the man. He liked taking risks and one of them being eating her out in the seven’s headquarters. He was in his chair, pussy shoved in his face as she ran her hand through his hair cooing at him. She had on Billy’s trench coat and this time blue lingerie. It was almost time for a meeting so FireCracker had walked into the room and almost gasped at what she saw.

Jealousy ran through her body as she saw Homelander eating out the girl she was in the elevator with a week ago. Y/N smirked at her and her jaw dropped at the good feeling. “Fuck John you’re so good.” She moaned and her eyes rolled back. FireCracker was glaring and pissed as Y/N moaned his name and told him he was amazing. That should be her. She left the room pissed and Y/N almost laughed but started whining instead.

FireCracker glared at the woman as she came out of the room. “Who the fuck are you?” She asked, clearly mad. Y/N stopped and looked at her. “FireCracker right?” She asked and walked up to her. “You’re the one that’s obsessed with Homelander.” FireCracker glared at her. “It’s truly pathetic and it’s so sad that he doesn’t want you.” she fake pouts at the woman.

She leans in and whispers, “He’s fucking me. His dick is in my pussy going in and out until he cums. And that is satisfying to know isn’t it you conservative bitch.” She pulls back. “Also you said something about how you didn’t even have to blow a guy for a place in the seven? That’s because you can’t.” She smirked and walked away leaving FireCracker who was pissed and embarrassed.

#the boys #the boys imagine #the boys amazon #the boys season 4 #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander imagine #homelander x you #homelander smut #antony starr #john gillman #billy butcher #billy butcher imagine #billy butcher x reader #firecracker #karl urban

258 notes · View notes