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junowritings · 7 months

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Hello! Could I please get a Baldur's Gate 3 matchup? Any gender is fine ^-^

I'm an autistic girl who also has adhd, asthma and chronic joint pain. I work as a librarian currently and am simultaneously very smart and scholarly and also full of energy. I'm definitely the sunshine person in a group, I love taking care of people and I'm very good at making other people laugh, I have a very dry witty sense of humor. I'm also super short, 4' 10"/147 cm, but I can get kinda insecure about it when dating. I have a very boyish style, long wavy auburn hair that floofs up around my head, glasses and I'm pale and covered in moles and freckles. I also love being out in nature, and if I can't be I bring nature to me, I have tons of houseplants.

Thank you so so much, have a great day!!

I just wanna say now that the line between two characters was so close I damn near considered doing both, but ultimately one boy won out for you lmao.

With that being said, I match you with...

You know who’d give you the love you so rightly deserve? HALSIN.

Halsin’s mere presence exudes a warmth that is difficult to put into words - it’s one of the many reasons others seem to flock to him for guidance or look to him for comfort. Perhaps it is that warmth that leads you to his side.

The first few interactions with the druid, the two of you hit it off like nobody's business. Halsin is the kind of man who with your equally vibrant personality makes it feel as though you’ve known this man for months longer than you actually have.

There’s a fierce focus behind your eyes that speaks of your sharp wit and intelligence, your pursuit of all things knowledge and academic clear from his very first meeting with you. There’s nothing that Halsin loves more than watching that fire kindle when something’s caught your interest, fascinated by the way your whole demeanor seems to brighten when something has managed to spark up your passion. You call yourself a sunshine person, but to Halsin you’re almost akin to the sun; a bright presence who warms up the very air around you as though breathing life into every place and every person you touch. Halsin would find himself wanting to see more of it; compelled to see what else he can do to get you to light up like that and bring out that radiance he’s so quickly begun to associate with you.

He will absolutely visit your workplace in the middle of the day. Of course he’d much prefer to take you outdoors any chance that he gets, but understands that the library is your territory - a fitting workplace, he comments, considering your pursuits. Expect his visits to be spontaneous though; whenever he finds himself thinking or pining for you he just follows the desire to seek you out to spend time at your side. The only warning that you’ll likely get is seeing his unmistakable figure outside of your peripheral before you’re scooped away from whatever task you’re working on; this can be cute but expect a few book based casualties if you happen to be holding any at the time. He’ll try not to disrupt your work, but let's be honest, having this big guy watching you with a gaze loving enough to make ice melt you’re gonna cave no matter how resilient you may be.

You’ll quickly begin finding little gifts left around your workspace, all of them expressions of his affection. Most of them, unsurprisingly, are plants; not only because he finds that nature can breathe a life into even the most mundane of places, but also because your mutual appreciation of nature makes him believe that you would enjoy nature’s gifts. Given your own love of nature you may find your coworkers suspecting you’re the one bringing them in; that is until they catch him on his way to you with a potted ribbon plant cradled in his arms.

You brim with energy, enough so that even Halsin finds himself caught up within the wake of it. His heart swells watching you care for others and bringing them joy as though it��s second nature. The willingness to care and tend to others is a trait so easily overlooked in the world, and given that Halsin has more than once taken on such a role in the past and present he finds a kindred spirit in that kind nature of yours. Dote on him, try to make him laugh, and watch this man melt for you like honey in the sun. Be it with your words or your touch, your care touches a place within his chest; one that carves a place in his heart for you to fill like it was made for you.

With that being said, the role of a caretaker so often comes with the consequence of overlooking your own care. This is a man though who knows that those who love taking care of others need the exact same love and attention lavished upon them in kind; and there is no one more eager to do so than himself. The care of oneself is just as important, and giving yourself time to heal and relax is vital. Taking you out into nature is a predictable date idea for the druid, but he does it to also get you away from the hustle and bustle of your everyday life if only for a few hours. To allow you a moment to breathe, ease some of the burdens from your shoulders, and give you a place away from others to vent and give yourself some peace.

Plus outdoorsy dates in the middle of nowhere gives him the excuse to remain affectionately glued to your side under the pretense of sticking close together - a fact he has no hesitation admitting to if you call him out on it.

His care also extends to your chronic pain. If you suffer from flare ups in your joints Halsin will insist on helping you in whatever way he can, so long as you’re comfortable of course. Balms and healing spells aplenty - anything that he can do to alleviate even a fraction of your suffering he's happy to do without a second of hesitation. He’d wish nothing more than to ease that pain from you entirely, but he does what he can to make the worst days a little more manageable.

Tall king won’t even think twice about your height, nor the potential insecurity that you are dealing with as a result. He strives to be accommodating for you, and there is not an inch of you that is not loved fully and wholly by this guy. If you open up about any potential insecurities, rest assured that he will devote every second of that very day reminding you of his appreciation for your form, and every little mark that makes up who you are.

If you think this man won’t kiss every single one of your moles and freckles, prepare to be proven so very wrong. Literally his favorite pastime when you’re cuddling is to kiss the freckles and marks that he can reach, whether that’s your face, your shoulders, your back, arms, or anywhere else. Has a habit of kissing the marks on your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours and brushing his nose along the top or palm of your hand before planting a kiss. Sometimes gets a little too enthusiastic with the kisses. He’s smushed your glasses into your nose a couple times beneath the barrage of his kisses, but your complaints about it are only met with a rumbling chuckle as he leans up to place an apologetic kiss to the bridge of your nose. Depending on where they are he’ll trace along those freckles and moles, mapping them out reverently beneath his fingertips as though committing them to memory. There’s a softness in his expression whenever he does this, but don’t call him out on it unless you’re gunning for some more kisses.

I do hope you’re prepared for your home to become a greenhouse! With both of your meticulous care your houseplants will practically thrive before your very eyes, and soon will be growing in number the more that Halsin integrates himself around your home. It’s as though he’s bringing the very outdoors inside with him, and he’s in turn deeply impressed by the attention and love which you have poured into the plants that take residence within your home.

#baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 halsin #halsin x reader #bg3 match up #baldurs gate match up #juno art #im telling you now hun Gale was THIS CLOSE #big guy won this time #halsin

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tragedicna · 11 months

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@prerodinu / unprompted.

He pushed the door open, glancing at the man behind the bar. He has a rough day at class and needed to see the other. It just so happened his sister wasn’t able to visit, which was fine. Dom found more and more he wanted to be around Mitsue. He placed himself on the edge of the bar, not wanting to take a prime spot but also wanting to make sure that he was able too keep an eye on Mitsue. He rubbed his hair pulling some at the strands finding paint flaking from them. He should have showered before coming here but he couldn’t he wasn’t able to stay away. “Hi.” He smiled giving a little wave to Mitsue. He would wait until the other finished before he waved him down to order something. He did also enjoy watching the other move and handle people. It always made him shiver a little he really did like the other.

when the door opened , the bell chimed to catch his attention and his eyes flickers to the entryway . in an instant , mitsue's face brightens a degree more when he catches the sight of a familiar figure ― DOM . a bright smile given in greeting to the other as he watches dom make his way to his usual seat near the edge , mitsue wishes he could pull away from his current conversation to speak with the man , but his current client seemed INTENT on keeping him there . tending to the customers , mitsue tries to find a time to slip away and hand off his customers to the other staff , though he can never seem to find the right moment . it's not until a while later that he manages to extricate himself , approaching the edge of the bar with a sheepish smile . ❝ it seems they are much clingier tonight , ❞ he jokes softly as he joins dom , hand already reaching for a cup to prepare the man a drink . he's come to enjoy dom's company a lot . . . what may have started as just eva being overly worried surely blossomed into something else . a mutual pining . . . maybe something more ?? mitsue's not quite sure what sort of tag to place upon their relationship stage . his hands pauses when he noticed something in dom's hair . . . setting down the tumbler before reaching across the counter and gently grasp at something in the man's hair . dislodging the fleck of pain with cautious gestures as to not cause the man any pain from the tugging , ❝ a crazy day in the studio ?? ❞ he jokes softly , discarding the paint chip in the trash can under the counter . ❝ or trying out a new style ?? ❞ he teases , moving to wash his hands before finishing the drink dom ordered . setting the beverage before the other , ❝ i won't be taking payment for this . . . i won't back down tonight , ❞ mitsue warns , pushing the drink closer to dom , ❝ and if you don't take it , i'll be so hurt over the fact that you'd reject my hard work . ❞ he says , though , he's teasing . the bickering over payment and tipping is normal for the two of them , almost a routine . . . but mitsue enjoys it . it's never dull . no , whenever dom is here ; it's NEVER dull , it refreshes mitsue , a sense of ease and happiness floods his chest . it just makes his night infinitely better when he sees dom .

#( mitsue takahashi | answered )#thanks for sending!#prerodinu

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byebyelullabye · 2 years

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fifteen ~ b.b (part 2)

benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

During the summer of her fifteenth year, Y/n L/n realizes the nature of her affections for her best friend Benedict Bridgerton. All the while, the Bridgerton family continually grows exasperated with the pair’s stolen glances and longing stares.

masterlist

~ seven (part 1)

a/n: here she is!! sorry if she's a bit late huhuuu i went in a different direction than originally planned bc i saw the potential in friends to lovers also i wanted more of that mutual respect and admiration. and im a sucker for idiots yearning for each other. once again i experimented with writing styles. pls feel free to spew feedback :)

warnings: horrible ending (my apologies in advance, my English is not that great), annoyed family, agonizing amounts of mutual pining with no resolution (at least not yet), benedict bridgerton (his cuteness deserves its own warning, proceed with caution)

August 13, 1801

Dearest Benedict,

Oh, how I wish you could be here. The word beautiful would be an insult to such magnificence as this. My mother continues to describe Venice as lovely but I fear the English language has yet to create a word to encapsulate the awe I am feeling for every breath I take here. There is so much scenery for the eyes to feast on, I fear I may be blinded. No doubt that you, the incredible painter that you are, could spend an entire lifetime here and never stop. When I am not reading or strolling about the gardens and statues, I think of you. I think of how you would love it here. I think of how you would see it, through those artistic eyes of yours. How you would wax poetic about every single blade of grass. How I would still be enraptured by your words.

I do hope you never get bored of my rambling. I am buzzing with anticipation of every letter from you and news of Mayfair. As much as I love home, excitement flows through the air in Venice so I have much to tell you in the coming days. I send your family all my love. Send me any of your poetry, how I treasure them so.

With love,

Y/n

Every morning of the summer of his fifteenth year, Benedict Bridgerton awoke bright and early with one purpose in mind: to await the letters from his most cherished friend, Y/n L/n, whose family had decided to travel across Europe once more. And usually, everywhere Y/n went, Benedict followed like a lost puppy but as it was, his parents drew the line at following her all the way to Venice. Benedict had never been separated from her for such a long time before, and so, whenever he was not reading or awaiting her letters, he spent his time moping.

And every morning of the past two months, the thunderous rumbling of Benedict's shoes dashing down the stairs had served as the alarm for the awakening of his family. Not because they wanted to, mind you, but rather because every morning, Benedict eagerly sprinted down the stairs with no regard for the other occupants of the house. Every step he took boomed like an earthquake throughout the staircase. When he awoke, everyone else followed suit.

Upon landing on the first floor, Benedict inquired with the maids and footmen and upon realizing that no letters had been delivered yet, he sulked his way to the drawing-room and flung himself on the sofa, waiting in sour suspense.

The family consensus was that the sooner Y/n returned, the better. In the meantime, Benedict was not to be reminded of anything related to her, which proved to be no small task since Benedict spent every waking moment hopelessly pining for his dear friend. And while he always referred to her as his ‘dearest friend’, almost all of Mayfair knew he meant ‘queen of his heart’.

He brightened whenever she walked into a room but dimmed when she left. When Y/n spoke, Benedict listened with all his senses captivated by her. His eyes naturally gravitated toward her, finding her in every soiree and smiling when he did. He kept every little memento of their time together from flower pressings to books they read to each other. On top of all that, all of his sketchbooks were filled to the brim with drawings and sketches of Y/n’s features. Her eyes. Her smile. Her lips. Her hair. Her hands. Even more so now that she was gone since Benedict took irrational measures to ensure he would never forget her lovely face.

While she was there, his pining was only tiresome. The staring. The gazing. The sketching. But with Y/n gone, it became unbearable.

So when her latest letter arrived a few hours later during breakfast, the entire family breathed a humongous sigh of relief. For now, Benedict was satisfied. Lord and Lady Bridgerton share glances at each other, reminiscing their own lovestruck youth. Anthony and Colin sport matching looks of smug smirks, no doubt to tease their middle brother once they corner him after the meal. On the other hand, Daphne and Eloise search their older brother’s expression for a sign of what was on his mind. Would his pining grow worse? Would the sisters have to vacate the premises to escape him?

But all of his family's reactions fade away as he tears through the soft, creamy envelope that bore subtle hints of Y/n’s distinct floral scent. His eyes rapidly devoured the contents of the paper. With every word lovingly written in her handwriting, Benedict could hear her melodious voice speaking in his ear. So far, her family was touring Venice at the moment. He reread the letter three times before letting out a breath, tracing the closing words at the edge of the page.

With love, Y/n

Her salutations always changed like the weather depending on the events of her day, the urgency of her writing, or the ardor of her spirit, but her farewell remained the same:

With love, Y/n

Benedict couldn’t help himself but let a giddy smile spread across his face. He brought his hand to cover up his face and looked down but with how wide he was grinning and how bright his eyes were shining, it was no use. Everyone around the table could see it. Who knows, Y/n could probably see it all the way in Venice (if she looked hard enough).

Without another word, Benedict rushes out of the room. His stomping shoes disrupt the quiet of the otherwise peaceful meal. Everyone, sans Colin who eyed his brother's half-eaten breakfast, followed Benedict with their eyes as he sprinted his way to his room. No one had to ask. They all knew what he was doing.

"Mother, what is that saying about love and how irrational one acts without it?", Daphne asks from the end of the table with a curious albeit teasing tone.

Eloise pipes up across her, "Oh, I know! I know! I am stupider without the other half of my brain"

A booming laugh erupts from Lord Bridgerton, who always appreciated Eloise's snark (no matter how much her mother disapproved).

"Eloise, we do not call other people stupid" Lady Bridgerton reprimands her daughter. After a second she adds as an afterthought, "No matter how irrational they may be acting"

Snickers and chuckles ripple through the table. Not necessarily directed at Benedict only, though all of the family could agree that he was nonsensical nowadays.

"But Mama, what is the saying?" Daphne asks once more.

Lord Bridgerton reaches for his wife's hand and looks into her eyes before answering, "The saying, darling Daphne, is that absence makes the heart grow fonder"

As he declared those words, upstairs, Benedict was rummaging for paper to pen his reply. The world fades out again as all he thinks of is seeing Y/n again. How will their reunion be? When will it be? Has she changed? Will their friendship change? Will they still be friends?

He brushed those thoughts away. All that matters now was the letter at hand. He writes as if at any moment he is to be struck by lightning, quick and frenzied, all the words pouring like water as he scrambles to collect his most important thoughts. I miss you, he writes twice. No matter how forward that may seem, it does not make it any less true. He misses her, with his heart and soul.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Oh, indeed.

Two days later and nearly a thousand miles away, Y/n L/n was pacing back and forth along one of the most breathtaking villas she’s ever seen. But her breathing came in shallow and ragged puffs of air. Her clip-clopping footsteps were short and hurried. Her eyesight was growing so blurry she could not even appreciate the view before her, too preoccupied with the scrambling thoughts buzzing in her head.

You see, five days earlier, Y/n had sent another letter to her friend Benedict Bridgerton and the consequences of her actions had finally caught up to her. Their correspondence may seem insignificant, perhaps mundane, but it is a given rule by the Ton that unmarried ladies cannot write to unmarried gentlemen.

And though neither of them was considered out in society yet, their letters may still be considered quite scandalous, especially coming from respectable families. Especially if her words were taken out of context.

Dearest Benedict,

With love, Y/n

If the Ton, or heaven forbid her mother, ever got ahold of her letters, both their families would be shunned from society. It would break her family’s heart to see her undone, all before she could be presented before the queen. And Y/n could never forgive herself if she were the cause of the tarnishing of the Bridgerton name.

But maybe she’s getting ahead of herself.

She breathes in, sitting down on a bench while she collects her bearings.

Benedict has proven time and time again that he can be trusted with her innermost thoughts and secrets. She’s sure that he would never let anyone read their private letters, seeing as they were written and read for their eyes only. He would never betray her like that.

She breathes out, but then new questions sprout into her mind.

What would the recipient himself think of the letters?

Was she too irritating? Too conceited? Was she too forward? How would Benedict see her then? If he thought of the letter as romantic? Would he be disgusted? Would he turn her away? Would he disregard their friendship?

But among all the loud booming voices of her anxieties, a little one in the back of her mind asked, what does it matter what he thinks?

Well, Y/n tried to reason to herself, Benedict was her friend. It is normal to seek approval from a friend. To know what they think of you, if they think of you with as high a regard as you do for them. It is also normal to miss your dear friend. To look at the stars outside your window and wonder if they are looking at the same ones. To recall the sound of their laughter, playing it in a loop in your head every night before you sleep. To yearn for a simple touch. To ponder their thoughts and to lament the distance between you. To ache for their words, so much so that you wake every dawn to await every letter. Like she had every day since her travel started.

That was normal, right?

She could miss her friends in Mayfair. She misses Eloise and her poorly concealed snorts of laughter. She misses Penelope and her shrewd eye. She misses Daphne and her devoted sensibility. But Benedict…

Her yearning for Benedict is different. Different in a way that she cannot describe yet. She set her eyes on the view before her, pondering how she could paint her feelings in words.

All she knows is that… her longing(?) for his companionship runs deeper. Sadder. Lonelier. More than any longing she feels for anyone else at home.

Home

Benedict is home.

Now, where did that thought come from?

It is true though, the little voice in her head insists. When she thinks of home, she thinks of the green, green grass of the Bridgerton estate. The hustle and bustle of their home. How quiet her house is compared to theirs. How her eyes search for Benedict in every room only to find him staring and smiling back at her. She thinks of Benedict. Everything reminding her of home reminds her of him. His smile. His laugh. His eyes.

Now that kind of thinking… that is not so normal.

But that doesn’t have to mean anything, does it?

Unless…

Unless what? The little voice in her head will not quiet down.

Unless…

Oh.

Nearly two months later, Benedict found himself the past three days sitting in front of the windowsill as his eyes scanned every passing carriage, trying to discern every passenger. His razor-sharp focus distracted him from his repeatedly bouncing leg. A tic that was slowly driving everyone in the room insane. More insane than all of his hopeless pining.

Now, why has Benedict been situating himself to the window?

The answer to that lies folded in his hands. Three mornings ago, Y/n wrote to him with only seven words.

Dear Benedict,

I'm coming home.

Love, Y/n

Whump!

The sound made when Y/n ran into Benedict’s arms. He spun her around a few times with a smile on his face and his nose buried in her neck.

Thump!

The sound made when they tumbled to the ground.

In Y/n’s defense, what else do you expect her to do when she sees the object of her affections for the first time after a whole summer? And what else was Benedict supposed to do? Not welcome the girl- nay, woman- he loves with literal open arms?

Y/n laughs at the sudden fall. At least before she realizes that she is on top of Benedict. And before she realizes that he has been silently staring at her the whole time. Have his eyes always been this blue? Like the sea after the storm?

She looks into his eyes, lost in them, unable to say a word. Her tongue is tied because everything she wants to say cannot be said yet. It would not only be awkward but improper as well to say them at a time like this.

I miss you.

I’m sorry it took me eight years to realize I am in love with you.

Before the impromptu staring contest can continue, Benedict clears his throat and remembers where they are, breaking Y/n’s trance. She stands up and extends her hand to him and he takes it. When he finally stands up, he doesn’t let go. Instead, he brings it to his lips and plants a lingering kiss on her hand. All while looking at her with his piercing gaze.

Y/n grows warm with a mixture of giddiness and surprise. Benedict had never kissed her in any way before and her heart soared at the new show of affection. She wouldn’t have minded if he did it again at some point. She smiles dopily before directing her eyes to the ground, thankful that they weren’t in public but standing before the grand entryway of the Bridgerton House.

“I take it that you missed me, then?” Benedict asks coyly.

Did he read my mind? I-

“What gave me away?” Y/n answers much too quickly.

“Nothing really. I just guessed from the look on your face before you tackled me to the ground” He has the audacity to smirk. Oh, Lord.

"Wha- Tackle? I di- I-I did not tackle you to the ground." Y/n retorts, trying to maintain at least some of her dignity.

“Oh, really? What would you call it then?” He really is smug today, adorable bastard.

Y/n doesn’t resist utilizing some of her newfound knowledge, “Well, the Italians would call it a cadere or a tumble.”

Benedict slowly crosses his arms, “My, my, my. Are you showing off, dear Y/n? Didn’t know you had it in you. Your travels have changed you.”

She straightens her spine a little more and raises her chin, meeting his eyes with a determined gaze.

“Summer has changed me." She continues, "Though I will admit that the travels were a great contributing factor. Do you know how incredible it is to witness such beauty?” She asked sincerely, her eyes softening.

Looking at Y/n, with her hair illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the window, creating a halo around her head. With her small smile playing on her lips whenever she spoke to him, with her flushed cheeks from all the excitement, looking more like an angel every day. He smiled. I do know.

Just then, Lady Bridgerton came in.

“Ah, I thought I heard your voice! And I see that Benedict is already stealing all of your company away.”

“Mother, please do not spread lies like that. Daphne or Colin might hear you”

“But I did hear Y/n’s voice. And here she is. That is no lie, Benedict”, Lady Bridgerton is nothing but accustomed to any of her son’s shenanigans.

“What I meant was, I didn’t steal Y/n. I am the one she came to see anyway.” He smugly regains his composure while Y/n darts her eyes between mother and son frantically.

She exclaims a bit louder than she intended, “Good morning, Lady Bridgerton! Forgive me for not greeting you sooner!” She curtsies a little too hurriedly that she stumbles but Benedict is there to hold her arms to steady her before she falls down again.

“Good morning to you too, Miss L/n. Will you join us for tea? Maybe regale us with tales of your travels? Benedict might benefit from it since he is yet to go on his Tour…” Lady Bridgerton is also nothing if not clever.

Y/n looked at Benedict standing beside her, a playful quirk emerging on the corner of her lips. “I would be honored to”, she answered, never taking her eyes off him.

“Now, was this before or after you fell into a lake?” Benedict asks before taking a sip of tea.

Y/n’s eyes widen as she turns her head, checking to see if anyone within the vicinity heard Benedict’s words. She slowly turns to look at him to find him hiding his smirk with a cup of tea. Somewhat infuriated, she grabs the side of his shirt to pull him close enough so she could whisper into his ear, “I wrote that to you in confidence.”

He continues sipping his tea with a smirk, “Y/n, there is no one here beside us. Thankfully, my mother took the hint that two friends should be allowed to catch up with supervision.”

Y/n shrugs and blinks at her teacup, tilting her head, then taking a sip. “I suppose that is fair.”

Benedict claps his hands twice to direct her attention to him again. “Well then, now that is out of the way. Continue with tales of your travels, dear Miss L/n. How does it feel to be a lady of culture?”

“Correction: a woman of culture”, she corrects him.

“Now that you are a woman of culture, do you still hold a love for Mayfair? For England?”, Benedict pouts.

Y/n looks at him affronted and starts passionately, “Why yes, as a matter of fact, I do. My family passed by the Lake District just about North of here and oh Benedict, it’s just-”

She sighs and closes her eyes, then snaps out of her trance and-

Gasp

Slightly mortified, Y/n continues, “Well, now that I think about it, maybe you should not go there”

She quickly becomes unusually quiet. Sipping her tea and taking dainty bites off the plate of biscuits, refusing to look Benedict in the eye.

“And why ever not? What could possibly taint your perspective? After all your praise in your letters?", Benedict asks.

Y/n sighs before continuing, “If you must know, it is because upon exploring, I found the lakes where all the poets went to die. And no scenery, no matter how exquisite, is worth you dying”

Benedict is stunned silent, his jaw hanging open. He closes and opens his mouth repeatedly to form words but nothing comes out until-

“You overestimate my abilities, dear Y/n. I am not nearly as great an artist as you think I am”, he says, trying to mask his insecure words with a small smile.

Y/n is having none of that. She faces him, finding his eyes and unabashedly staring into them to prove her point.

“And I think you do not believe in yourself, not nearly half as much as I do. Benedict, you have more creative talent in a single eyelash than I do in my entire body. Why can't you see tha-"

Benedict drops his cup down and takes her face into his warm hands so she cannot look away from his gaze. She represses a shiver, not that he notices.

“Now see, that is where I draw the line. Do not diminish yourself, Y/n. Not for anybody. Not for your mother, your father, and most certainly not for me”

She meets his gaze head-on with a steady stare of her own and holds onto his wrists. Both of them are stubborn and unwilling to concede. They remain that way for a while. With his hands on her face. Her hands around his wrists. Gazing into each other's eyes. Trying to harden their stare, instead finding the other's eyes softening. After God knows how long, it is Benedict who breaks the silence.

"Sit for me."

Whatever words Y/n was expecting, it was certainly not that.

"I beg your pardon?", she asks.

"If you truly, truly believe in my artistry-"

"I do"

"Then sit for a painting. My painting If you don't mind", he pleads.

"...But why me?"

"Why ever not you, Y/n, have you ever seen your face in a mirror?"

Y/n grows more and more flustered, but she refuses to let it show.

"Why me? Why not your sisters? Or your mother? Or any other beauty of Mayfair?", she rambles.

"You're the only beauty of Mayfair"

"Don't let Daphne hear you say that"

Benedict whines exasperated that she is not taking this seriously.

"I want to paint you. Just you, Y/n. Just you."

She stills and mulls it over, taken aback by his solemnity.

There's no harm to it really. All I have to do is sit still and look pretty. Maybe talk to him a bit. Talking to Benedict is always easy. Maybe watch him paint. See the cute little scrunch of his nose when he concentrates- Y/n, focus!

"I would be honored", she finally rewards him with a large grin.

He breathes out, a smile gracing his lips.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this"

“What on Earth do I do with my hands?”, Y/n asked as she fidgeted into her seat in front of the window.

Just moments ago, she walked around the room in frantic steps with all her hair flying about. Her eyes were wild with panic and slight anxiousness. Her hands trembled as she adjusted her dress, minute to minute. To anyone looking at her and only her, she might have appeared as somewhat of a mad woman. But to Benedict, he saw the love of his life his best friend being herself.

“Well, I would suggest folding them in your lap but I know that you cannot sit still for a single minute without moving”, Benedict really shouldn’t be looking that pleasing pleased while wearing a smirk.

“Would you rather I wring your neck with my hands around it?!”

Then, he starts laughing.

Laughing.

This bastard-

“Benedict!”

He chuckles, wheezing, before answering, “Am I wrong though?”

“Christ, Benedict, do you want your painting or not?”, she asks, trying to hide a smile.

“Well, I do, but I still want my muse to be comfortable”

Y/n’s cheeks grow warm at the words muse.

“What do you suggest I do then? About my hands?”, for emphasis she flails her arms a little too madly, nearly causing Benedict to burst into fits of laughter again. She smiles widely at the little amused shake of his head.

“Do whatever feels natural, Y/n”, he sits less formally. “Even if it means you look like a confused flamingo”

She gasps, affronted. “Aren’t your subjects supposed to stay still for you to= I don’t know- capture their features clearly?”

“Oh please, Y/n, you need not worry about that. I know your features quite well, I’ve been staring at them for the past eight years”

How on Earth is he saying these things so casually? He’s been staring at me?

Wait, that’s normal for friends. Don’t get ahead of yourself, you goose.

“.....Y/n?”, Benedict asks after she’s been too quiet for long.

“Hmm?”, she shakes her head out of her trance.

“As I said, what would feel comfortable for you?”, he leans back on his chair and grabs his paintbrush.

“Benedict, you need me to sit still and I want your painting to be good and quite frankly it is taking everything in me right now not to pace back and forth but how can you paint me if I move about?”

“...Would you like to take a walk?”

Y/n smiles, “I love to walk”

“I know you do”

“Mother, we have to do something. This is agonizing”, said Colin, as the rest of the Bridgerton clan watched Benedict paint Y/n after their equally nauseating walk.

“Agonizing? My, my, Colin, how you exaggerate”, replied Lady Bridgerton to her third son as she exchanged glances with her husband.

“Oh no, Mother, for once I agree with my brother on this one. You should have seen them when they first saw each other this morning. It was pure agony”, Eloise piped in, standing next to Colin.

“You were watching them, El?”, asked Anthony with a teasing tone.

“No, I was not! I just caught Ben staring at Y/n with hearts in his eyes. It makes me want to vomit just looking at them, my god!”

Daphne quips from the piano, “At least Y/n is discreet about her affection.”

“Y/n? Discreet? HA! Look at them right now!”, Anthony exclaims.

All of their heads turned to the scene before them: Benedict carefully painting Y/n’s hands as she scribbled at her notebook and Y/n sneaking little glances at the little scrunch of Benedict’s nose and smiling to herself.

“Does Benedict truly not notice?”, Colin asks.

Eloise answers, “He is too caught up in his painting of her and I quote, ‘pretty hands’”

“He really said that?”, Daphne asks.

Anthony sighs and rolls his eyes, “We’ve all seen his sketchbook. If he didn’t say it, we know he’s thinking it.”

Colin questions, “Does Y/n know about the sketchbook?”

“If she did, they would be engaged by now”, Daphne replies.

“I beg your pardon, Daph, but I don’t think so. Y/n would never interpret the sketchbook as ‘affection’”, Anthony quips.

“Well, what would she interpret as his affection?”

Anthony answers, “Nothing unless he drops to his knee and proposes”

Colin rolls his eyes, “God, she’s oblivious”

“I’m starting to wonder if she’s blind. I mean, no woman is this dense”, Eloise exclaims.

“And I’m wondering what dramatics have taken over my children this fine morning!” Lord Bridgerton asks the room, causing his family to turn to him.

Anthony starts, “Father, do not tell me that you can stomach more of this hopeless pining from both of them-”

“When we could end it right now!”, continues Eloise.

“I’m sorry, children, but this is a moment that the pair must realize on their own”, Lord Bridgerton calmly replies.

“But this is torture!”, exclaims Colin.

Lady Bridgerton speaks up, “One day, we will laugh at all this. Maybe at their wedding even, but until then, you are not to say a word about either party’s feelings for each other, understood?”

…

Reluctantly, all siblings reply, “Yes, Mother.”

“Thank you, and who knows? Maybe Y/n and Benedict will experience this torture when one of you starts their season”

Collective groans ensue.

TAGLIST (everyone who requested a part 2):

@severewobblerlightdragon @samkysnks @crimesolvin @stopimtryingtoreid @ivettt @liahaslosthermind @idli-dosa-reblogs @canpillowscry

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heeseongism · 2 years

Note

Can you do a mutual appriciation post pls?

Love your works ! Slay bestie 💪🏻💜✨

Ooh okay !! Im rlly bad at writing sappy messages tho so bare with me 😭 also im going thru my following list as im writing so this isnt in any particular order <3 also ty @sluttyenha for re-sending this ily

@foxdaisy MY PRECIOUS DAISYYY 🥺 notice how i said my daisy? Thats bcs shes mine so all of u hoes better back off, daisy should srsly have the Guinness world record for most adorable person in the world bcs my god shes the cutest 🤧 always so so supportive of all her mutuals and never has anything bad to say abt anyone, shes rlly reminds me of this one mutual i used to have on my old acc and it just made me feel so at home on this new blog <33 daisy rlly just deserves the world, she's just that one friend that you can always count on to brighten up your day 💕 i always look forward to the asks that she sends me and ngl i feel my eyes watering sometimes by how adorable she is :( we’re always active at different time but whenever we do interact it makes me rlly appreciate and love her <3

@sunghoonalter raven, oh god where do i start. raven first and foremost is my bae so everyone back off bcs she is MINE MY PROPERTY 🔪 yes i have claimed both raven and daisy deal with it (i may claim some of my other mutuals so beware) shes also my no 1 angst writer even tho i hate reading it bcs it crushes my heart but I'll read it for her ✋😔 honestly raven deserves way more than shes getting on this hellsite BCS WHY TF ARE YALL SLEEPING ON HER DAMN GOD GIVEN WRITING SKILLS?!?!?!? WAKE UP AND APPRECIATE HER FFS shes the cutest girl in the world with her bambi eyes and might i say beautiful lips 😩 also her humor >>>>>>> it makes me love her even more than i alr do. We may disagree on some stuff (her being bambi and sunghoon having tiddies) but i still love her nonetheless ! I hope ive made her tumblr experience just a little bit better just like she did with mines ❤

@hee-pster - jan my fellow girl boss and lifeline is by far THE LOVELIEST person ive met on this site and im not even over exaggerating. She was the first person i properly interacted with and she immediately made me feel so comfortable on her and ilh for that 😭 she rlly deserves all the praise and love that she recieves bcs shes just such a kind, funny, and bubbly mutual who im proud to call my friend :( shes also hilarious and i love how we can both match each others energy, shes such a beautiful person and i just know shes beautiful on the outside too 😔 we wouldnt be able to handle a face reveal 💔 i rlly do love her, so much that words cant explain how much she means to me, I'll always try my best to be her supportive moot 💕 I hope she always remembers to take care of herself bcs life can be an ass sometimes <3

@jaylaxies aria aka the president of coochie clenching smuts AKA MY QUEEN 😩 WHY IS NOBODY ON THEIR KNEES BOWING TO HER FEET RN??? She is just so so hardworking and i rlly admire her for her perseverance despite all the obstacles she faces on her blog. Shes such a gorgeous person inside and out and shes still so humble even after gaining a massive follwoung which makes me love her sm more. Shes just one of the ppl who im extremely proud to call my friend bcs its not every day you meet someone as amazing aria, shes a rare gem fr 💕💕 I want to give her the world and to protect her from all the hate but sadly im merely a 19 yr old with multipe deficiencies and couldnt fight for my life without shattering my bones. However i hope that my love and affection can help her even if its in the tiniest way possible. Shes honestly one of the sweetest ppl ive met on here and i always look forward to her posts and when we interact :(

@end-hyphen MY LITTLE 5'2" GENIE IN THE BOTTLE 🧞‍♀️ ik alot of ppl say this but genie rlly is just like a big bundle of sunshine and she never fails to make my day whenever i see her in my notifications :( literally a free package of positivity like WHAT DID I DO IN MY PAST LIFE TO DESERVE BEING BLESSED BY SUCH A WHOLESOME HUMAN BEING ??? We haven't been mutuals for very long but i rlly hope our friendship can last for a very very long time bcs tumblr would be so lifeless without her, the happiness would literally be drained out of my tumblr experience ngl 😭 im always looking forward to when we interact and just seeing her interactions with other ppl on my dash makes me so happy that theres still sm positivity despite all the hate anons ew,, genies rlly is just a beautiful person both inside and out and i wish her all the happy things in life!

@jaysbiceps amy or should i say my angel in disguise and by disguise i mean KINKY LEATHER CORSET,, i legit never wouldve expected someone as sweet and GORGEOUS as her could be this sexy but im loving it. Amy is probably the person i dm the most on here, and shes just the cutest most adorable mutual i could ever wish for. Shes so supportive and is always checking up on me which i appreciate vv much, whenever i say i love her i rlly do mean it. I love our talks whether its abt being horny or screaming abt random drama she never fails to make me laugh even if im having a rough day :( She deserves all the love and happiness in the world and i hope she doesnt have to deal with nasty anons anymore bcs or else i will personally go to their house and drain the happiness in them and then gift it to amy.

@shu-ramyeonz shu is... chaotic to say the least... BUT SHES MY CHAOTIC BAE (another one added to the list hehe fight me if u object) I love how she always acts so friendly with ppl even if its the first time they've interacted she acts as if they've know eachother forever nd have gone thru 5 divorces together 😔 I admire her sm for her confidence and positivty despite all the haters in her inbox who hve nothing better to do. also she looks exactly like a pinterest girl THE ENVY UGH 🤧 anyways i love her sm she's always hyping me up and complimenting me for no reason whatsoever which never fails to cheer me up 💕

@hwxnghyynjin BILLIE MY HANDSOME BOY, firstly can we just appreciate how god damn sexy he is bcs the fact that there isnt a billie visuals appreciation day where we all cry over how hot he is doesnt sit right with me 🤨 billie is a mutual of mine from my old acc so we go WAYYY BACK and i can't think of any other mutual i would rather have find this acc (well technically i told him but who cares) he is the cutest bean ever and his smile is so so so so precious it just lights me up inside hes so cute sjakhska :(( someone stop me im fangirling anyways billie is just the light of my life rlly and we dont interact much nowadays but i still feel so comfortable with him which is a huge thing for me. I just love him 😭

@lunarxsun luna is the cutest most adorable most precious person to exist istg words cant explain how hard working she is, i rlly hope one day she gains the recognition she deserves bcs her ocs are SO GOOD 😩 shes always so positive no matter what the haters say and i love that abt her. She's always coming into my ask box to give a little hello and i rlly appreciate it so so much, she's always thinking abt those around her and u can tell she genuinely loves her mutuals, shes such a good person and im manifesting with her that she meets her future husband at the COOL club ;)

@clelevanters tala is an angel that was sent down by god for being too horny and i will stand by that statement 😤 she rlly was blessed by god with those stunning visuals and stunning voice too?? Apparently she sings and im crying bcs i haven't heard her heavenly voice yet 😭 shes such a positive bundle of energy and i love when she randomly pops into my ask box simping over enha or the dark moon characters sjsjsksj tala also shares my pegging kink ugh could she get any better. Shes yet another one of my mutuals who i just wanna protect with all my might and also the fact that shes younger than most of us makes her so babie :( enhablrs babygirl me thinks

@polalvsjy MAE IS THE HUMAN PERSONIFICATION OF COTTAGECORE ISTG SHES SO SOFT AND CUTE except she listens to chase atlantic- shes one of the most beautiful person ive seen im not even joking. She gives off HUGE golden retriever vibes and its so adorable 😭 literally jakes soulmate in my opinion. She's also extremely talented LIKE FIRST SHES AN AMAZING WRITER AND THEN I FIND OUT SHE CAN SING LIKE AN ANGEL, DRAW LIKE PICASSO AND DANCE?!?!? God truly does have favorites 🤧 i always look forward to seeing her on my dash and in my inbox <33 i feel like it’d be rlly nice to just have a picnic with her and talk abt anything bcs shes so easy to speak with <3

@forjongseong NANA IS LITERALLY MY SOULMATE ATP HER MUSIC TASTE IS CHEFS KISS SHE ALSO LISTENS TO MAYE TOO SO LIKE 😍 once again a very very very talented mutual of mines,, her carmesi series OH MY GOD SHE MADE ME FALL IN LOVE WITH THE SECRETARY!JAY AGENDA. We actually dont interact as much as it feels like we do bcs i just feel so comfortable with her and i love that abt her, i love how shes such a kind inviting person and also extremely pretty too might i say 👀 shes adorable and her love for jay is even more adorable skjndk i always look forward to seeing nana on my dash and i hope we can become even closer!!

@drunkjaked SAX IS ALSO MY SOULMATE STFU she introduced me to kehlani and i’ll always love her for that 💕 we also havent interacted much but it feels like shes a lifelong friend whenever we talk with eachother! Shes such a talented writer and im proud to be mutuals with such a sweet and funny person such as her. I hope that in the future we can become closer friends and i hope she takes care of herself <33

@donghoonie-3 AVERY MY LOVE istg describing how precious they are is impossible, i always love seeing them interact with other ppl on my dash, and HE ALSO SHARES MY LOVE FOR SUBBY HOON 🥹 the best sub!hoon blog on here imo. I dont have much to write bcs we dont interact much but i truly do love and care for them <33

@hee-pot @vivvys @robyncore @4hsng @thots4hee @softforqiankun @amourhee @svnoohe4rts @muffinminnie @criceofpain @blond4enha @sluttyenha @taekookstiddiemilk @nyanggk @valley-of-lies @2minbin @heetro @pandorasblogbcuzican @tfwheeseung @yunskies @jinfie-lvr ILY GUYS I RLLY DO BUT WE HAVENT INTERACTED ENOUGH FOR ME TO WRITE ANYTHING 😭 but i srsly do love u all equally and i hope we can interact more in the future mwah <33 also if i missed out any moots the same goes for you guys

#anon :3 #ask box ! 🖂#only those who were active a few weeks ago know the hell i went thru when writing this up 😭

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provisionalsparkle · 3 years

Text

The Boy Next Door

Reader x Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

[Genre] exes-to-lovers au, smut, angst.

[Word count] 6.7K

[Warnings] Smut. Angst. Unprotected sex, voyeurism, ample description of bodily fluids.

[Note] This is my contribution to @feliix ’s Summer 2 Lovers collab! Check it out!

Summer.

The season of fun and sun, careless joy, long days and warm nights…

For most people.

For you, this summer is about change. It’s about the little town you used to live in, the quaint house you grew up in, the smell of your mother’s cooking or the breeze from the yard, the sound of younger kids playing in the street. It’s about the big city you will go to live in, it’s purple and orange twilight skies, black silhouettes reaching toward the skies beginning to twinkle with golden lights, the noises of the traffic coming from evening bustle, the scent of the delis and restaurants that line the streets.

You were stuck between these two places, university having been a four year long limbo of boundless sex mislabeled as self-discovery, and now visit your home one last time, reminding yourself of the life you had there before moving on to another.

You think of the past with nostalgia, yet also with a restlessness that makes you want to run from everything. The stillness, the silence, the unchanging landscape in this little town is too unbearable, too unsettling. But it’s familiar, and it’s comfortable. The life you’ll soon live promises excitement, autonomy, it’s the adulthood you’ve fantasized about. It terrifies you too, and you have these horrible dreams about missing the payment of the most insignificant bill and having the entire world collapse on you because of it. You still don’t know how to do your taxes.

College is over, a new life awaits you in a big city after landing a rather ideal job, but it felt like you were leaving things behind. Funny how, after so many years of fantasizing about this grown-up life you suddenly felt like a lost child, scared to forgo the familiar.

It’s these sort of almost-quarter-life-crisis thoughts that fill your mind on a particularly warm afternoon. You’re indecently splayed out on a couch with as little clothing as possible, the door to the backyard is wide open, letting an occasional breeze waft in to disrupt the stifling stillness of the heat. The lights are off, and you were too unbothered to turn them on as the sun set, preferring to stare at a darkening ceiling as the evening sky turned purple.

There’s a familiar jingle of keys from the front door.

“Honey? You home?”

“I’m here, Mom.” You lazily answer back. She wanders from the hall to the living room, you can feel the judgemental look she gives you.

“Have you been laying like this all day?”, indignation lines her voice. Was it so surprising to find you like this?

“Yeah…”

“You can’t just lay here all day. Go out! Get some sun! Go play with those kids you used to hang out with from school!”

“I can’t Ma, I’d rather just plank here.”

“Oh goodness, Y/n. Give me one good reason you shouldn’t go hang out with them!”

“I’ll give you two: either they grew up to be total bitches or they had kids and became a bore.”

“I didn’t become a bore when I had you!” She exclaims, although it’s not too serious and some playfulness hides beneath the surface.

“Yeah, that’s because you’re a cool mom. They don’t make those anymore.”

“Hmm… well, I think you should make a bit of an effort.”

“Mom… it’s my last vacation you know -”

“You know what?!” She suddenly exclaims, her voice brightening like a lightbulb just radiated in her thoughts. “Mrs. Carson’s son is here with her for the summer too! I bet you haven’t seen him in ages, and he’s gotten so handsome.”

“Mrs. Carson?” You didn’t have any clue who that was.

“Well… you might remember her as Mrs. Bang, but Jane changed her name when she married Norbert a few years ago. She still lives next door and Christopher’s in town spending the summer with his mother.”

Bang…

Christopher…

You hadn’t heard that name in years. It surprised you a bit actually, and a hint of a smile came to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, Mom… I’ll think about it.”

You wouldn’t admit… something did grab your attention. A curiosity of sorts.

You were fifteen years old when you had your first kiss. He was a short boy with a kind smile, a bit awkward really, but you had a fondness for him. It wasn’t about looks at all, all boys at that age were hideous and nothing would change your opinion on that, but you’d swoon whenever you saw him. It was mutual, an icky teenage infatuation that had your friends poking fun at both of you whenever you’d become giddy at the sight of one another. Hot faces, nervous glances, trembling innocent touches.

He sat next to you in chemistry and you’d hold hands under the lab table while the teacher gave class. His left hand always felt soft in your right one. Cute. It’s a bit silly but you’re glad you had that sort of adorable and silly romance. While it lasted, that is.

Christopher wasn’t a bad guy. He was stupid, like all boys that age.

When you saw him kissing another girl, of course you cried, but you knew it had to do with him being stupid more than anything. This simple looking girl that you had been friends with in elementary school, you can’t even remember her name.

You know why he did it, beyond his stupidity. Your mom had let it slip long before - you knew it was coming.

“Honey, would you believe? Mr. and Mrs. Bang are divorcing!” Probably just some hot gossip from one of her PTA yoga groups, no ill intention on your behalf. She didn’t know you were seeing Christopher - over your dead body. You were fifteen and a horrible student, you didn’t need to give your mother yet another element to ground you with.

“Oh no…” You acted as normally as you could, your first thoughts went out to Christopher first though. “Do you know why?”

“Well… I’m obviously not going to ask, duh! But I do know that Mr. Bang is taking the kid with him abroad.” What?! What did she just say? Chis is WHAT?!

“I - uh, what?” Act normal, act normal, act normal.

“Aww… sweetie, was he your friend?” Goodness, parents can be so oblivious, but it’s beneficial in this case. She doesn’t pick up on the depression of your mood.

“I guess.” A sniffle is about to threaten your composure so, in your teenage arrogance, you leave before your mother can see your teary eyes.

The subsequent days were strange. You expected Christopher to tell you the news, you expected to comfort him, you expected to live out the rest of your young romance as best as you could. And then… you saw him.

And he said nothing. He was cold, pushed you away. He must be going through a lot of pain, you thought. More days went by and he still said nothing, and his demeanor grew worse, no affection, no smiles. He must be having a hard time, you reasoned.

Sometimes you thought he was on the verge of saying something to you, like he was about to say something and the words threatened to come out but he’d suddenly pull away and swallow them. You didn’t question it really, it was so confusing but you just went with it.

You never held his hand in chemistry again.

Time made you realize that Christopher didn’t want to be with you anymore. You weren’t sure if it was because he stopped liking you, and that hurt a little, but you knew what he was going through, and you stood by him in case he ever chose to open up and cry on your shoulder. You’d be there for him.

When he kissed that girl, it didn’t really surprise you. Damn it, what was her name? You cried, you thought it was because you were ugly and your boobs were still pretty small - stupid reasons.

It took a few months for you to understand the real reason.

He left without saying goodbye. You never spoke to him after he kissed what’s-her-name. Maybe he tried to do so a couple of times, but you ran away or didn’t let him. Or maybe you remembered it that way to comfort you, just so you’d live with the thought that he tried to apologize, tired to make things right.

But the fact of the matter is he didn’t speak to you and he didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to say goodbye because it hurt.

He was trying to ruin your relationship so you’d break up with him and he wouldn’t have to say goodbye, so that he could kill the feelings you had for him to spare you from the pain of his departure.

Or maybe you were just imagining it like that to make it a cuter memory and think about it fondly.

Maybe in the end, Christopher was just a horny teenage boy that cheated on you. Maybe.

Regardless, you giggle as you think back on the silliness of it all, and how serious and life altering it all felt in your childishness. It seemed so long ago, so distant, and you were so changed that it felt like it had all happened to a different person. You wondered about the man next door, and the entirely different boy who had once been next door. What kind of person had Christopher become?

University did you well. It was four solid years of irresponsible drinking and uninhibited sexual exploration paired with relatively easy academics. You don’t know how it happened, but it had been like a transformation from one day to the next.

You, sort of, kind of, absolutely plain and normal girl that no one would notice lest you stepped in their line of sight. One day, there you were - normal.

Two weeks in - boom. Confident. Your roommate was an okayish girl, another plain one. Then you started noticing how comfortable you were undressing in front of her, to change clothes or whatever, as if it was the most normal thing in the world - which it was. Wearing shorts and skirts became less of a worry, just something that felt better. Sometimes you’d be thrown icky glances from some boys, which you hated, but others were acceptably flirty and you loved those. The best ones were the boys that would get shy and who would quickly whip their heads the other way once you caught them staring.

That definitely flipped the switch. It made you feel strong, it made you feel damn good. You, who at the most had dipped a finger into the world of heavy makeouts during high school, now became a seasoned seductress of all kinds of men. So long as you could wrap them around your finger with your demeanor, so long as you could prowl over them and take the lead.

Ah… the good old days.

What was going to happen now, though? Four years later, no slightly inexperienced men left to be wowed. Everyone you knew was turning into a bland and bitter office worker. Was this the end of it?

To think that you’d be ending this glorious chapter of your life in this tiny town, lounging on the same stuffy couch in the same hot living room every day, having your routine philosophical melodrama where you’d stare at the ceiling in the afternoons until your mother came in inquiring if you were alive. It was a terrible fate.

A few days after the revelation of Christopher’s presence, which you would never admit had been circling your mind nonstop, your mother returns with another piece of information.

“You know, Jane and Norbert are having a get together of sorts next Saturday - just the usuals from the block.”

“Is that so?” You said with disinterest.

“In fact, I borrowed a baking pan from her last week… why don’t you go over and give it back to her for me? She might need it, and you probably haven’t left this house in days.” You didn’t reply, but you could feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to obey.

“Fine…”

The afternoon was enjoyably fresh, although your white t-shirt stuck to you like a second skin, the bikini top you wore underneath tracing its silhouette into the cotton. You lazily stomped your way to the house next door, admiring the tall window where you had snuck into Christopher’s room a couple of times during your short romance. A ladder was perched up against the exterior toward that window, they must have been fixing things up. The porch was full of cans of paint, tools, boxes. It was only when you rang on the doorbell, begrudgingly holding the large tray, that you realized that Jane might not be the one to open the door but instead it could be -

The door swings open and you gasp. Christopher.

Well… his face hadn’t changed much. But he was slightly taller than you remembered, far more masculine, oh, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Yeah, he was shirtless… jeans hanging low on his hips… shirtless… abs… fit waist… arms…

“Hi! Is Jane home?” Good… pretend you don’t remember him.

“I - Uh… no, my mom’s actually out right now.” He replied. His voice had grown deeper, and where did he get that accent? Wait - did he not remember you? Now, that just made you angry, but you wouldn’t let it show.

“Oh, well… my mother wanted me to return this.” You say handing him the tray, avoiding trailing your eyes downward.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll give it to her.” He says. He seems a little frozen, an expression between surprise and caution lingers on his face, but you don’t know if it’s good or bad.

There’s a moment of silence where you just stare at each other.

“Y/n…” He finally says. There’s hesitation in the way he says your name. He’s scared, not of you, but he’s scared about the fact that you’re on his doorstep.

You don’t say anything, calmly, almost coyly, waiting for him to continue. You’d gotten rather good at pretending you were calm, and the slightest tint of a smile painted your lips so you wouldn’t seem cold or ingenuine.

“Do you remember me?” He asks. You can’t help but huff, a tiny laughter really.

“Of course. You know, you haven’t grown much taller.”

With those slightly playful words, you turn to walk back to your home, and with each step your impression of the encounter with your childhood love became more bitter and less sweet.

It was strange how you thought about him, about it. The situation, that is. Seeing him, talking to him, both of you now being older. A few days of thinking now.

You don’t know why you thought about it so much, but you thought about it. You thought about it without knowing how you felt about it or what you thought about it. This man you had only gotten a glimpse of, too overwhelmed to take in his features properly, now walks around your mind freely. He wasn’t the boy you knew. He wasn’t the boy next door whose hand you’d once hold in chemistry, who you’d kiss before turning the corner towards both of your homes. The boy who left all those years ago.

No, it wasn’t that boy. It was that man, who kept perturbing you. What did you feel? Interest? Yes, there was something quite intriguing about all of this which sparked your curiosity. Lust? Of course, absolutely, the man next door looked divine. Suppose you could abstract the person from his body, so that you wouldn’t be so bothered by who he was and what he meant to you, and you’d easily bend over in front of him and invite him in.

You supposed a conversation was in place, though, because after all, he was still the Christopher. You couldn’t just go around fucking people like that anymore - unfortunately. That was something you got away with in college. It’s a shame college boys grow up to be boring men, sex gets more boring, they think they have all the authority… Maybe you should go back to school.

You’re sitting on the windowsill of your second floor bedroom, one leg hanging out and stepping onto the roof. Opposite to your window, beyond a neat shrub, is the window of the guest room of Mrs. Carson, formerly Bang, which seems unchanged from when you last saw it. You remember watching her from your room, also unchanged, using the TV in there to do some aerobics she followed along from a VHS… was it a VHS? No, that’s the machine. What were the things you used to put in the VHS? A cassette? No… regardless, eventually she must have started using DVD’s.

Damn it, it all seemed like thousands of years ago.

Damn it, you were still so melodramatic throwing around words like poetry over some Richard Simmons tape. Aha! It’s a tape!

Your crotch is being dug into by the window frame, and you let your weight rest on it, the slight grind tempting you to have a round of masturbation. But you’ll finish the cigarette you stole from your mother first. It tasted awful, it was another adult thing you couldn’t understand. Why did everyone at university smoke so much? It was just another thing their eager teenage selves did to emulate the adults in grown-up world, to feel a little more grown-up. Who the hell likes this stuff?

But you liked watching it burn, occasionally inhaling its airy and bitter smoke. It wasn’t your preferred type of smore. You preferred watching papers and matches burn, their sweet and rich smell, the warmth of the fire that would sting the edges of your fingers. Shame your mother only used a lighter, you didn’t like the smell of that fire either.

You just surrendered to watching the bright tip of the cigarette and the white streams that came from it.

“You know those are bad for you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You exclaimed, your heart nearly jumping out from your chest. A man had sprung out from the window in the guest room of the Carson house, formerly Bang, and that man was Christopher Bang himself.

“Sorry I didn’t -”

“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack - what the hell?!”

“ - mean to startle you…”

“Damn it, Christopher!”

“Ah! So you do remember me?” He says with a bit of joy, but you just look at him, realizing that this is where the talk will come. His features grow a little more somber. He continues, “So… I guess I -”

“Where’d you get the accent?” You interrupt, genuinely curious. “You sound like the crocodile hunter.”

“Well… I was living in Australia with my dad.” He says it in a normal tone, but you make sure it doesn’t stay normal.

“Oh, so that’s where you went?” You both wince at what you just said. Yep, it’s finally time for that talk.

There’s a bit of silence, but you’ll let him be the one to fill it.

“I…” He sighs deeply. Uuhh… it’s quite a masculine sigh. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again but I… there’s something I’ve always wanted to say.”

“I’m listening…” You say. It’s a flat tone, but it’s funny. You hope it’ll ease him.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Some silence again, “I’m sorry for being an ass, I’m sorry for cheating on you -”

“Chris, we were like fifteen… you kissed a girl with braces, big deal.” You waved it off. Really, kissing that girl didn’t bother you so much, now almost ten years later.

“I left without saying anything.”

“Yeah, you did. Hard to not notice.”

“I was - I know it’s not an excuse, but I was going through a lot and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“So you left without saying anything?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok… we haven’t spoken in years. I practically forgot about it.” No you didn’t.

“Did you?” He says. Was he hopeful when you insinuated he hadn’t hurt you as much as he thought he had?

“No, not really. I mean, yeah, you kissing another girl was pretty insignificant, we were just kids. It did hurt that you left without… I don’t know… There wasn’t any closure. There wasn’t a goodbye. I felt confused for a while, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry about that. But my parents were splitting up, I was going to have to leave everything behind. You were the first girl I loved and I was going to have to say goodbye and I couldn’t handle it. I was too hurt and embarrassed to even tell my friends. I wish I had done it differently.”

“Yeah, I wish you had too. I wanted to be there for you, you know? I wanted to hug you, hold your hand, tell you it was going to be ok.

“I really messed up there…”

“It’s okay Chris, you were just a kid. We were just kids.” You offer your sympathy but he doesn’t soften.

“Mhmm. Doesn’t make me feel less guilty about it.”

“Can I ask you something?” He nods, “Did you do all that stuff… you know, treat me that way, for real or where you…?”

“I was hoping you’d break up with me, get over me. That way we wouldn’t have to say goodbye and we wouldn’t get hurt.”

“I got hurt.” You admit.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” You insist. “It’s fine. We’re fine. We’re old and grown and fine. All of that’s in the past, I can’t blame you for acting like a kid. It’s okay.”

“Well I can agree with you there. We did grow up, not kids anymore.”

“You didn’t grow that much.” You laugh, he laughs too.

“You certainly did.” He’s being flirty. It could have been bad timing, but the mood felt right.

“Oh, you noticed?”

“Hard not to.” Goodness was he being direct. “You were really cute back in school, I had a crush on you for like, forever.”

“Really…Plain old me?”

“Really. And now here we are and I think I could have a crush on you all over again.”

“So you can go off and kiss another girl with braces and leave the continent?”

“No, I’m a one woman man.” He says while making himself comfortable on his own ledge. It’s getting comfortable overall, like you’re talking to someone you’ve known for the longest time, like a decade of separation didn’t do much harm.

“Well, well. And who is that lucky woman now?”

“There’s no one at the moment. I’m in the middle of some life changes.”

“Do tell.”

“I’m moving back. Well, not here, just in the country again. A big city, big job, kinda scary.”

“Seems we’re on the same boat. I just came back to say goodbye to this place forever and I’m ooout.”

“Did you finish school already?”

“Yeah… I wish I hadn’t though.” You think back on your experience with longing, lamenting it’s end.

“Wow, can’t relate. I couldn’t wait for it to end. What’d you miss about it?”

“Well, I didn’t have to work, grades were good and easy. And I guess, it was tons of fun.”

“How so?”

“Being on a campus full of horny and stupid guys - it was open game.” Chan hisses at your admission.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for that type.” He chuckles, “You would stutter for like the first two months we went out.”

“We were just kids.”

“I guess we were…”

Another comfortable silence as you stare off at the sky, your cigarette burnt through with only the spongy bud left to pinch.

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m single too, you know.”

It might have been a bad idea, you said it on impulse after all, something quite instinctive having taken over you. Maybe you were just horny and Christopher was just hot, regardless, the conversation was over. Before he could even process what you said, and the implications to it, you had already slipped back into your darkened room and out of his sight.

Chan felt like a teenager again. Not in a good way.

Chan remembered your first kiss, holding your hand. He remembered your breasts being the first he had ever really noticed, your legs being the first he ever caressed. He remembers how you’d press your bodies together while you kissed, not really understanding what both of you felt, only understanding the urgency of it.

Now he can name those feelings, the ones that once belonged to an inexperienced boy, merely dipping his toes into the surface of that world. But now that he dove, and had dived into its waters several times, he knew how to swim in them.

Yet, seeing you made him feel like he didn’t. It made him feel like he couldn’t swim, like he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was drowning.

The first moment he saw you on his doorstep he felt his stomach drop, a pang of guilt that had lingered on his mind during countless of sleepless nights hitting him with full force. He didn’t expect it. He thought he would never see you again.

And after taking another look, a longer look, it was like he was swimming in completely different waters. He felt submerged, and he didn’t know which way was up. He wanted to open his mouth and swallow it all up, let you drown him.

He hadn’t felt this raging feeling since he was a teenager. He certainly hadn’t had a specific woman make him feel like this until you.

It made him feel another kind of guilt. Shame even.

The following days he’d watch you, shamefully. His mother had him painting the house and when he stood on the rooftops he took his time to enjoy the view of you swimming in your pool, wearing tiny bikinis that stuck to your skin and showed the buds of your niples and the lines of your labia through the fabric. He would admit, shamefully, that he stopped watching from the roof because he needed to get closer to see these beautiful details.

He now watched you from over the fence in his backyard. Getting incredibly hard watching you swim, watching you oil your body down.

It was all horribly, horribly shameful.

But weren’t you the one that mentioned you were single? It had caught him off guard. He was being cheeky in that moment, but he didn’t know what waters he was testing then. Now he knew, and it was making him behave so, so shamefully.

Should he go over there, push you into a corner of the pool and pull your bottoms to the side? Should he kneel at your feet while your rubbing yourself with that golden oil, and beg you to let him fuck you?

It wasn’t just the thought of sex that drove him mad, it was you in general. How inferior he felt in front of you, like he had to prove himself. Every day he worked shirtless, hoping you’d get a glimpse of him, but you were just so unbothered by it all.

It was driving him fucking insane.

If only you knew.

Except - of course you did. Of course you did. This is what you craved, what you were best at. Driving boys, technically men but boys sounds tastier, to be absolute slaves to their desire for you. Christopher wasn’t doing a good job at hiding it. Did he really think that you would suddenly spend every day swimming in the tiniest bikinis after having not left your couch for over a week? They really are such stupid, fuckable animals.

And Chris was particularly fuckable.

Day four of his perverted project, he was hammering away at some boards in the back porch of his house. Your mother wouldn’t be home for hours, his parents were away for a couple of days.

Everything was perfect.

“Chris?!” You call loudly over the fence from your chaise lounge, carelessly flipping through a book. The hammering stopped, he had heard you. “Chris, it’s hot today. Don’t you think you should come over for a swim to cool down?”

Why on earth were you acting so damn unbothered and confident, he thought. Why on earth were you asking him over?

It’s only a matter of time before he circles his own house and slides in through the gate on your end. He’s still wearing jeans and a utility belt, gloves too. No shirt.

“You can’t really swim in those, take them off.” You hardly peered at him from over your sunglasses. He was just standing there, frozen. That’s usually a sign that you’re working your magic well. Good. “Come on Christopher, take them off.”

“I - uh, I’m actually not wearing trunks right now. Uhm… I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go.” Insert unbothered page flip. “Why don’t you just undress and get in the pool so I can join you?”

“W-what?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He genuinely thought he had imagined it, maybe all of his hornyness was driving him insane.

“Christopher!” You whine. “You’re ruining the fun!” You slam the book shut and throw it over to the side, taking your sunglasses and hat off. “Chris, I think it’s obvious. Do you think I haven’t noticed you being a peeping tom for the past half week? Look! You’ve already got a tent in your pants and everything!”

“Fuck.” Shit, you were right.

“This is like, hmm, like an open invitation to fuck me.” You say with an eye roll, but your eyes roll toward his abs because they are absolutely distracting you.

“Are… are you serious?”

“Well… You want to, I want to. You’re nice, look like you’ve become quite a decent man - and I’m not just referring to your physique Chris. Maybe, just maybe, it would be an excellent idea if we finally fucked this tension away.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. You’re here for a few weeks, so am I. Why not enjoy each other while we can? After that we can just go our separate ways, just like before except we’ll end it on good terms.”

Too many points for him to argue with - you were right on all of them. He couldn’t disagree. In fact, he eagerly agreed. Little did he know you had this pitch rehearsed to perfection, to your benefit, because he seemed to be completely subdued by it.

“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. Fumbling with his belt, zipper, exposing the line of his abdomen down to his hardening cock. A fat, heavy cock that swung between his muscular thighs. He was fully nude now, standing in front of you, his tan skin glistening in the sunlight. You’re quick to urge him over with a finger.

He pounces, but once he’s crawling over you on that narrow chair, he becomes slow.

“Hi.” You manage to whimper out, now feeling a bit small beneath him, feeling nervous even.

“Hey.” He’s just as nervous but there’s an energy that goes beyond either of your wills pulling you toward one another.

He kisses you. It’s a kiss you melt into, and he sinks his body against yours, with you spreading your legs so he can slot between them. His cock rests against your lower abdomen, his body pressing further into you.

You can’t help but slide your hand between your two bodies in an attempt to finger yourself, prepare yourself, but he stops you and pulls back.

“No.” He growls.

“No?” Is he going to leave you like this?!

“Let me.”

And you do. Chan lowers himself, adjusting you so he can easily bend over the chair while kneeling on the ground, and his hands shake as he dips the tip of his fingers into the hem of your bottoms, just slightly tugging at the material, playing with it before he starts to play with you. You’ve got the perfect view of him basically drooling over you.

He slides the bottoms to the side, but you pull at the strings at your hips, so they come undone and he pulls them away completely. Your lips and the juices coming from between them are just as glossy than your oiled skin.

He can’t help but dig in. Fucking you with his mouth, jamming his fingers in you. It’s an animalistic frenzy and it’s hot and slippery and sticky. You cum and your fluids spill over the impermeable cushion below, pooling under your ass. He can see every sparkling droplet fall from you.

It’s just a haze, he nearly jumps on you, bending your legs nearly over your head, bouncing his pelvis on your cunt like a trampoline, smacking with every thrust. You’re completely glued to one another. If he’s not abusing your mouth with his tongue then he’s biting on your shoulder or grunting, growling, into your ear. It’s filthy. You’re absolutely sure you’ve never been fucked like this.

He cums, several times, as do you. He pulls out each time, jerks himself off on your body, although a couple of times you urged him into your mouth and face. He pulls the triangles on your top to the sides, so your breasts are exposed. He made sure to cum on those too. Semen, sweat, squirt, oil, spit, everywhere there are droplets of your fluids shining on your body like jewels.

It ends with him lying on top of you, nearly sleeping from exhaustion, and your lips feel deliciously sore and sensitive, almost ticklish as he softens inside of you.

It happens again. Several times in fact. Many, many times. When his parents are away, when your mom is away, you fuck all the time. Just a little call of his name over the fence or from your window and he’d be running to you. You were too comfortable with one another to bother with formalities, it was like you’d never been separated. You’d wait for him on all fours, wet cunt on display for him to dive in, but he’d always greet you with a gentle kiss.

Fucking each others faces, drinking eachothers fluids. You even let him fuck you in the ass, multiple times, and he was the first guy to make you cum that way. You were just as hooked and as desperate as he was.

Things started to change though.

The welcoming kisses became longer, you’d talk between the rounds…

You’d fall asleep in his arms, or he in yours.

You’d fuck slowly, deeply, staring into each other’s eyes.

You’d talk to him, tell each other stories of all these years, asi if you had been together the entire time.

You’d smile as you made love, gently. You’d let him cum inside of you.

He’d hold your hand again. They were as soft and warm as you remembered.

You were holding his hand on one particular pink evening, your head resting on his heaving chest, teaching circles into his pecs and nipples. On your bed, in your quiet childhood room. It was a painful silence now. It had been weeks, weeks closer to your respective departure dates.

“I wish I had never left.” He eventually says. You don’t know what to say. “I wish we could have stayed like this for longer.”

“Maybe we would have broken up eventually, or left for college.” You ponder.

“Maybe I would have taken you to prom, or we would have had sex together for the first time…” He returns.

“On this bed? Hmm? With my cute school uniform?” You tease. “Yeah, maybe.”

“But I guess this is what was meant to be.” He sighs, as do you.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can say.

“What for?”

“I don’t know, I just feel bad. I started this and now we have to go our separate ways again.” You feel something sting in your eye. You can’t cry now.

“Shh…” He coos as he hears you sniffle and feels you twitch. It makes his heart ache like it did all those years ago when he left.

“I - I…” You cry. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to go.”

He pulls you into his arms, crushing you in an embrace. Your eyes are closed but you feel the tears fall from his face, he’s crying too.

“I know… but what else can we do?”

There was nothing left to do, other than fuck the days away, crying, holding each other until it hurt. It was a horrible, horrible thing to have fallen in love with Christopher Bang this final summer.

You didn’t go with him to the airport. You didn’t want to say goodbye, you didn’t want to see where he was going.

But he did slip into your room that final night. You made love quietly, he kissed you as you cried.

He said it was the second time he loved you, and the second time he had to leave you.

It hurt much more this time around. Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, maybe you shouldn’t have gone next door.

Being in your house was unbearable once Chris wasn’t next door.

A week later, you’ve arrived at your new place. It had been a whirlwind and you stayed at a hotel the first couple of nights while your new furniture got brought in, most of your personal belongings only fitting in a couple of bags.

It’s kept you busy. That way you think about him a little less. Crying into pillows that have that certain ‘brand new’ smell isn’t quite as comforting as you’d expect. Everything seems unfamiliar, strange, artificial. Nothing here reminded you of him - it was for the best and you hated it.

The place is nice, bright. It’s on the third floor of a small apartment building, a couple of other doors beside yours in the hall. You go downstairs to grab a few packages that have arrived, carefully treading up the stairs in a kind of balancing act once they’re piled in your arms. It’s a choreography you can dance to with expertise, always denying any help from your neighbors.

However, you do fumble with the lock and handle once you’re at your door, holding the boxes up by pressing them against the door with your body as your hands blindly fumble with the keys, nothing but cardboard in your sight.

Nothing you can’t handle, until they start to slip.

“Woah, let me help you with that!” someone says behind you, and in your complicated state it’s a bit difficult to process what happens but the boxes are soon out of the way, said someone pulling them from you and freeing you.

And then you see him.

Him.

Your him.

He says your name and you’re too stunned to react. He’s in awe too. He drops your packages, and you’re certain some of them contain some makeup palettes but you don’t give a damn at the moment.

“What are you doing here?” You finally ask, frozen in place.

“I… live in 304.” He says.

“You live in 304?” He nods. “You? You’re serious?” He nods again, eyes still wide.

You both stand there, processing it all. This can’t be real.

“I live in 302.” you manage to say, after some time. Your voice is weak, all the air has left your lungs. You shake.

“You do?” He asks. Now you nod.

This can’t be.

But he cups your face, holds it like you’re precious and delicate, he kisses you. It is real. You kiss him back, harder. Eventually you’re both clinging to one another, gripping each other’s clothes desperately.

“You live here.” He says, little tears sparkling in the corner of his eyes. You nod, the same tears coming to you.

“I do. Mm-hmm.” The sniffles you let out seem so sweet to him, he swoons with how happy you are to see him. Knowing you feel the same joy he does - it makes him feel complete.

“I live here too!” He cries, laughing, smiling, beautifully.

One more kiss, just to make sure it’s real. You pull him in and kiss him one more time.

It’s real.

#bang chan smut #stray kids smut #skz chan smut #skz smut #bangchan smut

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im-constantly-fangirling-backup · 3 years

Text

Here Comes the Cavalry

REPOST BECAUSE TUMBLR HATES ME

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Swear words

Word Count: ~2.3k

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this, anon! I had a really fun time writing this and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Charlie's 10th birthday finds itself the center of a showdown between Thomas and his ex-wife over the new woman in his life.

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Being a friend of the Shelby's- didn’t matter how close or distant- was like walking around with a target on your back. But you didn’t mind. As much violence and chaos that the family attracts, and as much as they try to have power over each other, there was a mutual love and respect between every Shelby that you hadn’t seen anywhere else. For example, when Polly found out Tommy had hidden crucial information, she was pissed; but also proud. It was a bit concerning, if you were going to be honest. Even Grace was kept in the loop after the divorce. Once a Shelby, always a Shelby, you supposed. Grace wasn’t involved in the family business at all, but she and the family met occasionally. Although, as time passed on, it was mostly so Charlie could spend time with his father. Grace was now remarried and her visits were far and in between. She drifted apart from all the Shelbys- not that they minded, as her betrayal was still in their minds all those years later. Thomas started to move on from her as well, now very much used to Grace not being a part of his day-to-day life. Today was the day that Grace and Charlie were making a rare visit to the Arrow House for his 10th birthday. Thomas postponed all of his meetings for the entire week to make time for his son, an action that made you smile when you heard Tom tell his clients of his absence. And they call him heartless, you had laughed to yourself. “Ada! How are you doing!” you said, hugging your best friend before walking into the Arrow House. You took off your coat and hung it on the hook next to the door. “Oh I’m doing great sweetheart,” she said. “Auntie Y/NNNNNN!” you heard a little boy’s voice yell from the stairs. The pitter-patter of their feet running across the wooden floor echoed through the large room and made you chuckle. “Hello, Karl!” you kneeled on your knees and opened your arms for Karl, who ran into them and almost made you topple over. “Someone’s excited to see me!” You squeezed him lightly, resting your cheek on his head. You pulled away from him and reached into your purse, grabbing a chocolate bar that you had bought for Karl. “I got you something!” Karl smiled, his cute crooked teeth on display. “Thank you!” He grabbed the bar from your hand and started unwrapping it, running away from you and towards the living room. “Uncle Arthur, look what Auntie Y/N gave me!” he yelled. “What did I say about the chocolate?” Ada chided you. You laughed. “I couldn’t help it Ada,” you defended yourself. “He’s too adorable to not spoil.” In the background, you heard Karl laugh loudly. “You can’t have any Uncle Arthur, it’s for me!” You chuckled and shook your head, looking down at the floor in mock exasperation. The Arrow House would be nothing without the echoes of Karl’s screams bouncing around the walls from time to time. Even Thomas seemed to brighten up a bit more whenever Karl and Ada visited. You supposed it was because his nephew reminded him of his own son that he barely got to see. At the thought of Charlie, you looked up to Ada. “When are Charlie and Grace showing up?” Ada shrugged. “They should be here in a couple of minutes. Why don’t we head to the living room? Tommy bought a shit ton of food for Charlie so we might be able to steal a bit.” _______________________________________________________________________________________ You and Ada made your way into the living room and smiled at the exquisite birthday decorations. There were balloons of every color bunched up every couple of feet around the room, a large birthday banner hanging proud and true on the wall across from the fireplace. “Hello, Y/N. Ada,” Tom said from where he sat on the couch, his elbows on his knees. You smiled at him. “Thomas.” Tom smirked slightly- which was a fucking bright-ass grin when it came to Thomas. “We’ve been over the ‘Thomas’ shit, Y/n/n,” he said, quirking his brow. You chuckled. “We have,” you said. “Tom. ‘S just fun to be all fucking formal.” Tom pat the spot on the couch next to him while Ada left your side, sensing that you two wanted some

time alone. You walked over to Tom and sat next to him. “You excited?” Thomas nodded, his blue eyes brightening slightly. “I hardly get to see Charles anymore. You bet your ass I’m spoiling me boy when he’s here,” he joked. You laughed. “I’m sure Charlie’s going to like all of this,” you gestured to the decorations around you. “Oh! Before I forget! Where should I put this?” You reached into your purse and pulled out a folded mancala board that Charlie had begged you for the last time he visited. Thomas smiled and took the board from you, leaning down and sliding it under the couch. “We’re going to open presents after cake, so just remember to pick it back up.” From there, you and Thomas began to talk about the family business. Unlike with Grace, Thomas found himself consulting you on many decisions that he made. You weren’t directly involved but your advice was greatly appreciated by the family. Especially since Thomas wanted to get into politics- a field that you knew well because your father ran for MP multiple times before his death- your advice on what not to do gave him valuable insight on how to maintain a favorable public image. “I know your past is something that can’t be erased,” you said in response to Tom’s concerns about the subject. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t be hidden. Or at least left ambiguous enough that people can’t ask the right questions. You keep the public from asking the right questions, and you make sure they can never find the answers.” “It’s a bit unnerving that you know this,” Tom noted, a smirk on his face. In truth, he was impressed. Your knowledge of politics was quite extensive considering your father tried to keep you away from it for most of your life. But you knew how to eavesdrop and read gossip, and so you gained a wealth of knowledge about politics. You laughed. “You’re acting like you don’t already know this.” Thomas took a drag of his cigarette and chuckled. “You got me there.” Your conversation was interrupted by the distinct shrill of the doorbell. Tom perked up and smiled. “Charles is here!” He practically jumped up from his seat on the couch and made his way to the hall. You followed him to the hall, beckoning Karl, Ada, and Arthur- who had been quietly eating food in the corner, thinking Tom hadn’t noticed- to come with you. You and the group walked into the hall to the sight of Thomas laughing and picking up Charlie in his arms and bouncing him up and down, making his son giggle. “Happy birthday Charlie!” you exclaimed, clapping. Arthur, Karl, Ada- and John and Polly, who had been talking in the hall after you arrived- clapped and joined in wishing Charlie a happy birthday. Charlie and Karl shared a hug that resulted in you awing. You looked at Grace and smiled. “Welcome, Grace,” you greeted her respectfully. Grace simply nodded at you and took off her coat. Turning around to put her coat on the coat hooks next to the door, she gasped lightly in shock when she saw your coat resting next to Tom’s. “Whose coat is this?” she asked casually. You apologized profusely. “It’s mine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to impose. I can find a different place for it-” Thomas waved his hand nonchalantly. “Oh, no need. You’re not imposing, Y/n/n.” You blushed slightly. “Frances can take your coat, Grace. I trust you remember who she is?” He jabbed at her lightly. Grace huffed and nodded. “Alright.” The tension between Tom and Grace was palpable and made everyone make excuses to leave the room. You left as well, saying something about wanting to play around with Karl and Charlie. You knew things were bad between Thomas and Grace. So bad, in fact, that Tom had approached her with a divorce. Tom was many things, but he wasn’t the type of person to reach for a divorce. He believed that marriage lasted for life. But after Tom’s and Grace’s arguments over his ambitions and dreams started to grow from skirmishes to screaming matches littered with threats, Thomas had enough. He told you the night that he decided to divorce Grace that he didn’t want to spend his life with a woman

that didn’t support his political and business ambitions. You found yourself sympathizing with both of them. You understood Grace’s concerns about the target that would always be on her and Charlie’s back because of Thomas’s ambition. But you also understood Thomas’s argument that his ambitions were also the thing that would provide his family with more opportunities than he had. Thomas’s goals were a double-edged sword. Although, Grace had become quite cold to Thomas in retaliation for the divorce, often sending him and his family veiled insults. So you didn’t feel much remorse for her when Tom made barbed comments like the one made in the hall. You sighed while watching Karl and Charlie play. It was going to be a long party. _______________________________________________________________________________________ All of you were eating cake, you talking with Polly about some gossip that you heard when going shopping for groceries. “Apparently Brandon was just using her for her status,” you said, licking the frosting off of your fork. “But then Brandon caught Melissa sleeping with her boss-” “No fucking way!” Polly interrupted, putting her plate down and gasping. “How the hell do these things happen to people!” You laughed. “I know right! My life is boring in comparison- and I hang out with you insane idiots!” “Hey!” John said from across the table, his mouth full of cake. “We’re not that bad!” “Speak for yourself,” Ada muttered from next to her brother, cringing when John stuck his cake-covered tongue out at her. “Honestly, Y/N,” Grace’s refined voice reverberated through the dining room, “You shouldn’t be gossiping this much. It’s a boring pastime.” You quirked your brow. “I’m sorry?” “Oh it’s alright, I understand that some people have nothing better to talk about. I’m just saying, gossip signals a bland personality and I’m sure you don’t have that, hm?” Grace’s implied message was clear. You sat in silence for a moment, surprised. “No?” you said, going along with whatever Grace said. In all honesty, you didn’t care what Grace thought of you. She barely visited enough for you to give a shit. But apparently, Tom didn’t want to let it slide. “Look, Grace, it’s not a big deal to gossip, alright? You’d be a big fucking hypocrite telling Y/n/n not to gossip when pretty much everything you talked about was who was fuckin’ who-” “Thomas!” Grace chided. “What? If you’re going to walk in here and criticize how Y/n/n spends their time, you can fuck off, alright? I don’t need some posh stuck-up woman in me house. So either behave yourself and let Charlie have a good birthday,” Thomas threatened, “Or get out of me house and have fun on the streets for a week.” “You’d let your own son live on the streets for a week?” Grace asked, shocked. “My threat regards only you. Charles is me blood- you make me see blood.” Grace looked down at her plate and picked up her fork and ate her cake again. Tom took that as an agreement to get along with everyone and started eating again as well. You were just thankful that you had sent Karl and Charlie to play upstairs. But regardless of the tense situation, a smile graced your face at the immediacy that Tom defended you with. _______________________________________________________________________________________ “Hey,” you tapped Thomas’s shoulder when you both found yourselves alone in the back room. “Thank you for defending me.” Tom nodded and smiled slightly. “Of course.” “I mean it. No one really defends me so I really appreciate it. Especially since it’s Grace.” Tommy’s brows raised slightly at that comment. “What do you mean?” You shrugged, looking anywhere but at Tom. “I mean, she was the woman that made you the person you used to be before France. I understand there’s some bad blood between you two now, but she’s still special to you.” Tom hummed and walked closer to you, stopping at around 2 feet away from you. “So are you, you know. You’re special to me.” You smiled. “You’re special to me, too.” Thomas’s hand cupped your cheek lightly, his thumb stroking

back and forth. A flush made its way to your cheeks and you smiled shyly at Tom. There was always some unspoken bond between the two of you that you danced around. You were always scared that it was too early after his divorce, but with the way that he was looking at you, he probably got over it a while ago. You don’t know who leaned forward first, but one second later your mouths were connected in a feverish kiss. Tom’s hands were traveling places, touching parts of your body that you caught him eyeing from time to time. Your hands rested against his chest and reveled in the feeling of his heart thumping against his chest as erratically as yours. So you had the same effect on him as he did on you. The kiss was a good indicator of that, but it was nice to have reassurance. Tom pulled away and rested his forehead on yours. “Fuck, I’ve wanted to do that for months now,” Tom confessed. You smiled, pecking him on the lips. “So have I,” you replied, pulling his mouth back to yours.

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby angst #thomas shelby angst #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 3 years

Text

What If? (H.JS)

Warnings : mention of divorce

Word Count : 1897

Synopsis : she had never seen jisung as anything more than just a friend. that is until her and jisung volunteered to do a couples photoshoot for their mutual friend. seeing the way he looked at her, the way they just seemed to match perfectly had her wondering, what if they were more than friends?

“He said my portfolio isn’t good enough. There isn’t enough variety.” Hyunjin whined as he plopped beside me on the couch. I could see the disappointment and exhaustion in his eyes when he looked at me. He had been working on his photography portfolio for months now, hoping to impress his professor.

“Did he give you any ideas to help expand your portfolio?” I asked, running my fingers through his hair. It’s always helped calm him down, or that’s what he told me.

“He wants me to try to do a couples photoshoot, since I do a lot of portrait shoots. But I don’t even know any couples!” I slowly began to massage his head as he moved to rest his head in my lap, his eyes closing as he did so.

“Y/N and I will do it.” Jisung offered from the kitchen. Hyunjin’s eyes shot open, meeting mine immediately.

“Is there something you two aren’t telling me?” He questioned, causing Jisung and I to burst into laughter.

“No, but we can act like it front of the camera.” Jisung chuckled as he sat in the chair beside the couch.

“Besides, most of the school thinks we’re dating anyway.” I joked. Ever since high school, people have thought Jisung and I were couple since we’ve always been so close. Jisung is quite introverted and nervous around a lot of people, and he’s told me before that I comfort him just by being beside him. Growing up, he always clung to me in one way or another, not that I ever minded.

“Yeah, when I met you two in high school, I could have sworn you two were a couple.” Hyunjin added, sitting up on the couch. “But you two would really do a couples photoshoot for me?” We exchanged looks before nodded.

“You’re our friend and this is important to you. Of course we’ll help.” I smiled.

The three of us set out to find some nice shooting locations the next day. It was the perfect day for a photoshoot; the sun shining high in the sky. Every once in a while, Hyunjin would stop us and we’d take some pictures. Jisung and I looked up some references so we knew how to pose and make it look more realistic.

There was a lot of longing stares and laughter at how ridiculous this felt. Hyunjin was completely focused as Jisung and I posed for him. This was his final project and was worth 50% of his grade, and I could tell it was stressing him out. We tried our best to look as in love as possible, trying to hold in our laughter until the picture was taken, but sometimes it was difficult.

“Stop looking at me like that.” Jisung chuckled, hiding his face behind his hands. I reached out, taking one of his hands in mine and continued looking longingly into his eyes. “Yah!” I watched as his cheeks became a rosy colour.

“Let me love you!” I yelled as he suddenly took off running. As I caught up to him, I jumped on his back, thinking it would tackle him to the ground, but I was surprised when he caught my legs in his hands and continued running with me on his back. “Yah Han Jisung!” I shrieked, begging him to drop me.

“Didn’t think this one through, did you princess?” I cringed at the cliché nickname, lightly hitting the top of his head in protest. “Yah! Don’t hit me!”

The three of us ended up at a cafe looking through the pictures Hyunjin took throughout the day, after he downloaded them to his laptop. Jisung would point at one he thought was really nice, asking to send them to him later. But I just stared, my heart suddenly picking up pace.

I stared at the pictures, seeing the wide smiles on both our faces. How perfectly our hands seemed to fit together. Hyunjin even took pictures of us when we were just being ourselves, running around the park with me on his back. You couldn’t tell the difference between the pictures where we were acting like a couple and when we were just hanging out.

In all the years I’ve known Jisung, I’ve never seen him as anything more than my best friend. But looking at these pictures is like looking into another reality where he’s my boyfriend, and I don’t mind it.

Han Jisung has always been the person I turn to when I have news to share, good or bad. Through all the hard times and fights, he stuck by me, promising me he’d never leave. He’s the person that knows me better than I know myself. He knows exactly what I need without me asking for it. It’s like he can read my mind.

There’s no denying that he’s handsome either. He has a smile that can light up a room. Whenever I’m having a bad day, his smile alone can brighten it, bringing a smile to my face as well. And he’s got the cutest cheeks that puff out when he shoves food in his face, much like a squirrel. It’s one of my favourite parts about him. Honestly, I love everything about him.

There’s no doubt in my mind that I accidentally fell for my best friend. I fell for him a long time ago, but I refused to admit it. But looking at these pictures, my heart can’t deny it anymore. I’m in love with Han Jisung.

“Hey, Y/N, you okay?” Jisung’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “Do you not like the pictures? Are we not a cute couple?” He joked, his famous smile dancing across his lips. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“We’re obviously the cutest! All the pictures are amazing, Jinnie.” Hyunjin smiled at us, the stress seeming to wash off him completely.

“Honestly, you two would make a really cute couple. Look at this picture.” He showed us a picture he took just a bit ago when we got to the café. Jisung and I were standing in line, waiting to order. As per usual, Jisung had his arm draped across my shoulders, and I was holding his hand that was hanging off my shoulder, our fingers laced together. We were staring at each other, wide smiles on our faces. We weren’t even posing, that’s just how we’ve always been. “You are the happiest with each other.” Hyunjin added, but Jisung and I were both silent, realization hitting us both.

“Wow.” Jisung breathed out, his eyes suddenly meeting mine. “I’m so handsome!” He exclaimed, a wide smile taking over his face. I let out a laugh, but I could feel my heart drop. It was obvious that I was the only one who fell.

I eventually excused myself with the excuse of a project due in a couple days that I needed to finish. I put my earbuds in and took the long way home, overthinking every little thing between Jisung and I over the years. When did my feelings change?

Was it the night my parents divorced and I couldn’t stop crying, wondering what went wrong? Jisung came over after I had called him and he heard I was crying. I told him not to, but he still showed up, drenched from the pouring rain, holding a bag of all my favourite snacks. He held me until my sobs faded and wiped away the drying tears.

Maybe it was when we were partnered for a project in high school and we were in my room, laughing about something completely unrelated to the project. We stayed up late into the night, until my dad came upstairs, offering Jisung the spare room to sleep in, saying he already called his parents. Jisung was awake before me, waking me up with breakfast in bed and a shy smile.

It could have been when I was stood up, and instead of just picking me up and allowing me to do the lonely walk of shame out of the fancy restaurant, he barged in, apologizing profusely for being late. I smiled when I saw him dressed in his best suit, his hair a mess from the obvious run he did to get there. He even paid despite the high price and his dwindling bank account.

Or it could have been a mix of everything. Maybe my feelings were never platonic. I always seemed to laugh louder and smile more when he’s around.

A short vibration from my phone pulled me from my thoughts. I opened the message from Hyunjin, seeing a couple pictures from today on my screen along with a short message. I don’t think you two are just friends.

The pictures were ones he didn’t show us at the café, or at least not when I was there. The first one seemed to be from when we were just wandering around looking for a location to shoot. I was looking somewhere off camera, probably looking around for a place to shoot. But Jisung’s eyes were on me. His hands were in his pockets while a soft smile danced across his lips. The way he looked at me was the way guys in movies look at their lover. Eyes full of love and longing.

The second picture was during one of the moments we were trying to act like a couple, but we couldn’t contain our laughter. His hands cupped my face, our eyes locked together in a sweet gaze. You could practically hear our laughter just by looking at the picture. And in both of our eyes was the same longing look Jisung gave me in the previous picture.

The final picture was another from us acting like a couple. I had closed my eyes just like the couple in the reference picture, thinking Jisung did too. Our foreheads were touching, his hands cupping my face once again, and my hands resting on his chest. But his eyes weren’t closed. They were open, looking at me with such love that I could feel the butterflies erupt in my stomach.

I stopped walking, just staring at the third picture, hope building up in my stomach. The lyrics of the song playing in my earbuds was background music to the sound of my heart pounding.

Just then, Jisung’s contact picture popped up on screen as he called me. He always knew when I needed him. He knew me better than I knew myself. I should have known I couldn’t keep these feelings a secret from him. He could read me as easily as you can read your favourite book.

“Turn around.” Was all he said before hanging up. Slowly, I listened to his directions, turning around, and seeing him standing just a few feet away. “You felt it too, didn’t you.” He said, neither one of us taking a step. Strangers just walked on by, not paying us any attention, as if they were extras in a drama we were starring in.

“Yeah.” Was all I could say, and a smile formed on his face. “I think I always have.” I added, surprised he could hear me with how soft my voice was. He finally walked towards me, closing the short distance between us before cupping my face.

“Me too.” He whispered before pressing his lips to mine in the first of many kisses we’d share.

#stray kids imagine #skz imagine #stray kids au #skz au #han jisung imagine #han jisung au #han jisung x reader #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #bang chan #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin

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quillsanddaydreams · 3 years

Text

false promises

sirius black x reader

—author’s note: this idea was something that came to me before writing a paper and it just struck with me since. Sirius and you have a long history you can never get over. What happens when you finally get an opportunity to leave it all behind?

—warning(s): breakup and angst. gender neutral!reader (pronouns aren’t used).

—word count: 1,702

The sky was quickly turning black as you watched the streets the bus passed through. Today had been a whirlwind of emotions you weren’t sure you could contain. You had looked through old photographs, happy faces smiling back at you. They seem to make you feel worse, although you knew you had to do what you had planned for the day. Rip the band aid. Taking a deep breath, you stepped out and walked into the restaurant.

Your gaze immediately went over to him, his smile lighting up the room. Sirius. No other name could do him justice. James had an arm around him, enthusiastically telling the company something. Remus noticed you first. He gave a huge grin, waving at you. Forcing yourself to smile back at him, you made your way over to the table.

“Aha there you are!” James exclaimed, his eyes twinkling. “And here we thought you wouldn’t show up to a meeting you called.”

You rolled your eyes playfully while your heart constricted. Delaying worked only for so long. Sitting down beside Remus, you flipped open the menu avoiding everyone’s eyes. Especially the grey ones. He could always read you like an open book.

“So, did you all find anything interesting?” you said, scanning the menu like you had done a hundred times before. The group hummed in response.

Calling in the waitress, you gave your orders. You wondered whether any of them would continue some small talk, holding a glass of water to your lips. How were you even supposed to tell them? Sirius nudged you with his feet, making you look up at him. He raised his eyebrows wordlessly questioning you whether you were alright. Nodding carefully, you tried your best to hold your emotions in. Quiet followed, you could hear the cutlery being kept and people around your table chatting. It was as if everyone was anticipating a shoe to drop. Black spoke first.

“I know you like treating us and all,” he started as others leaned in. “But what’s the occasion for today? You’ve been so secretive about it; you didn’t even tell me.”

Your throat felt dry even though you just had some water. All of a sudden you felt as if you were exposed. Mulling over your next words, you pushed your nails into the palm of your hand. A habit you picked up as a child.

“I got a huge job offer, more of a promotion to be honest,” you began, watching their reactions. “The salary is quite something and the experience would step me up to a much higher position.”

“Whoa, that is so amazing” James said with widened eyes, cutting you off. Remus nodded along.

“And the way you were acting, we were afraid you were going to deliver a death sentence or something.”

“That is so great, congratulations!”

“It’s in Japan,” you whispered but no one seemed to hear you.

“You’ve been working so hard everyday—“

“We have to get ice-cream later!”

“It’s in japan!” you shouted, making the table fall silent again. Remus bit his lip, searching your face as Sirius just stared.

“It’s a five-year program,” you continued. “I talked to my boss and she told me this was a brilliant opportunity and that I should definitely pack up my bags.”

“You seriously aren’t considering to take up on that, are you?” James asked. Your jaw felt heavy. The silence must have been an enough answer, because no one dared to speak. Remus cleared his throat.

“Is this what you want?” he hushed as you felt tears prick your eyes. It wasn’t what you wanted; it was what you needed. You sneaked a glance at Sirius, who was still looking at you, dumbfounded.

You nodded slowly. James fidgeted.

“So this is your way of saying goodbye?” James remarked, a tad bit agitatedly.

“James—”

“Don’t James me!” he said, narrowing his eyes at you. “You’re talented. I know that, you know that. You can do without this program. And it’s in Japan for goodness’ sake! It’s miles away. Miles! Going there for five whole years means not looking back.”

“There are ways to communicate,” you said, your voice small. Even you didn’t believe that. James sat back, his arms folded.

“I hate you so much right now,” Remus said, picking at his napkin. You put your hand over his, squeezing slightly. He sighed. Sirius got up all of a sudden. You flinched. He turned to the group giving a random excuse about some work and left the table. Looking down at your hands, you heard the restaurant door close with a thud. Tears fell down your cheeks and you furiously wiped them off.

The rest of the dinner went in a strange calm. It was obvious to both James and Remus that you were just as much hurt as them. James gave you a small smile and helped brighten the mood at the table. Remus reassured you ever so often. You were grateful.

-♡♡♡-

Sirius didn’t contact you after that night. He was angry. Angry at you, angry for what you planned for yourself. It hurt you, more than you could care to admit. This playing around on your tip toes had been going for far too long. You knew your breakup with Sirius had been mutual, for both your goods but you didn’t have it in you to sit back and watch him fall into arms of people that weren’t you. Not anymore. Not when you still loved him. And you knew Sirius did too, it was how he still went out of his way to make you smile, how he loathed every single person you dated after him unable to realise that none of them could compare to him. None of them could compare to how he made you feel.

It left you to wonder at times whether the breakup was really the right decision. You reminded yourself that it was whenever the thought came up. Both of you wanted different things. Sirius never wanted to settle down and you did. After months of fighting and waiting for the other to give in to the other or come to a compromise, you realised it wasn’t going to work. You sighed. What were you doing reminiscing either way?

You checked all your bags and papers before putting on the coat ready to face the inevitable. Driving to the edge of the lake, you stopped and walked into the old abandoned warehouse. The grey walls didn’t seem haunting anymore, but inviting like an old friend. You smiled seeing a similar figure standing over the old table watching the ceiling.

“How did you find me?” he whispered, not sparing you a glance.

“I just felt the stench of complete and utter disappointment in me and followed it,” you jested but sobered seeing the look on Sirius’s face. You moved towards him slowly, gently placing a hand on his cheek cradling his face.

“Hey,” you whispered. He looked at you, his dark eyes making you lose yourself in them. “Don’t do this Sirius. You know I wouldn’t be able to leave you like this.”

“Then don’t leave,” he said simply. “I know you’re not doing it for yourself. You’re just running away.”

“You’re running away from me,” he hushed. You felt your mouth go dry. So he did know. There was no use beating about the bush, Sirius hated when people twisted up words.

“Well I am.”

“Why?”

“Why? You know why,” you pleaded. “Sirius I’ve been in love with you since I was a child. A child. We’ve been best friends all my life. Then we dated for five whole years. And now we don’t. I can’t be your ex and your friend simultaneously anymore, it’s been torture. Do you know how it feels knowing we’ll never be the same anymore? Just how much it hurts?”

“Do you think I feel good about it?” Sirius raised his voice, frustration from all those months pouring in. “Do you think I feel good about never being able to hold you close and see other men and women do it?”

“So maybe the job will do good to both of us,” you said after a beat.

“I did not say that—”

“Sirius—”

“No I didn’t. I’ll do anything for you. Give me another chance, just don’t go away,” Sirius said and you felt helpless. Sirius took your hands, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. Tears pricked your eyes. You could remember all the time you spent with him together. Riding his bike to the sunset, singing and dancing nonsensically to songs, him kissing you softly telling you he loved you. The memories flashed before your eyes like a film reel. You could barely see anything through the salty tears welling up.

“That wouldn’t do justice to either of us,” you said after some time, your voice barely audible. “Some things aren’t meant to be. We’ll fight again Sirius, we’ll be angry at each other and we’ll end up hating each other more every day. And I won’t be able to live with myself knowing I spoiled the best relationship I ever had.”

Sirius gulped, breaking into sobs.

“Damn you,” he croaked. “Damn you for going away. Damn you for making me lose you all over again. As if it wasn’t painful enough the first time.”

You laughed through snuffles and squeezed his hand.

“You’ll never lose me. You’ll never get rid of me even if you tried—” you stopped as Sirius crashed his lips into yours, kissing you urgently. You pulled him closer by his shirt, as one of his hands went at your waist and the other held your face. Pulling away in a daze you sniffed and Sirius buried his face in your neck hugging you. Time seemed to pass by as neither of you pulled away.

“I guess I really can’t make you stay, can I?” he said as you shook your head, wrapping your arms around his body. “I’ll miss you. And I’ll show up at your door myself if you don’t answer my letters. Promise me you’ll keep in touch.”

You pulled back, wiping his face with your fingers.

“I promise.”

—as for the taglist: I don’t make taglists, I have a blog @from-my-quill which is updated whenever I post fanfiction. You could have the notifications on for it and it will work just like me tagging you.

⟨⟨REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED⟩⟩

#sirius black #sirius #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius x you #sirius black x y/n #the marauders #james potter #remus lupin #from anu's quill

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ask-victor-grantzcampbell · 3 years

Note

Dear person I like, send them flowers too 🌸

I do hope this letter will never end up in your hands - not because I do not like you! It is because I still am very embarrassed to hand you such a thing filled with my deepest feelings and the possibility of it being not mutual pains me but I would accept it as fact as one should, I still wish to be a friend and companion that you can lean on.

You must wonder why I have come to like you, even enamoured with you if you wish to go so far.

It is fairly simple - you've seem to touch my heart so with nothing more than a few kind gestures and words, each day when we are putting our cycled lives on the line yet you still come to get me whenever I am chaired sparks admiration in my heart. It feels very silly that such a thing makes it pitter so but I cannot help the flush of my cheeks that doesn't seem to go away even if we escape or do not. It pains me when I try to rescue you only to come too late or you sacrifice yourself, I do my best to make sure it does not come to that but sometimes attempts are futile but I won't stop the attempts.

Out of such matches, things can always get hectic with moments of liveliness that comes from delivering letters and everyone getting ready for their matches or nights of festivities and joy and our time is always short one way or another but I enjoy every moment that we can enjoy each other's quiet company of being in the same room or by each other. I would never ask much of your time, a few moments - even seconds - is enough to satisfy me.

I do worry one day I may get selfish with wanting more than fleeting moments but I hope that it does not come to such. I want to be satisfied with what we have. I do not want to mess up a wonderful thing which is why I will do my best to keep my heart to my chest and smile for you.

I hope that any letter given in matches will be enough to help aid you in escape.

I hope that each rescue I can enact will give you more rush and hope than you can handle to continue winning these games.

I hope that what route you take, it brings you the most joy and satisfaction that leaves you with no more longing and that everything you need to know and remember is tucked away safely in a locked case.

I hope that I, along with others, stay in that locked little case for you to cherish forever. Please remember to think of me even for a moment when you get a letter or see something that reminds you of me, platonically or romantically I will not be displeased with either.

I wish I had the courage to give this to you but I can't, I do hope you can forgive me should you ever get this letter yet I am not here anymore. The amount of affection I have feels tremendous and overbearing which is more than I want to burden you with. Know if you get this letter and that moment has passed you have been a shining door in my darkest moments that I've stumbled about.

Do not lose yourself, keep the good memories of you and others to brighten yourself more and forever shall I keep such golden memories of us together tightly to my heart even long after I am gone. A piece of me shall be forever yours.

Hopelessly for you,

Victor Grantz-Campbell

#letter from victor #justalurker blog #Peruvian lilies #this will never reach their hands #*hides it away*

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fandom-blackhole · 3 years

Note

Fanfiction Trope MASH-UP

Din Djarin

53. Mutual pining, 41. First kiss, 6. Bookshop AU 👀

Hope this is enough of a distraction! ❤

First of all, how dare you make me think of how cute this little AU is, because now I'm yearning for modern Din and Grogu! Second, yes darling, this is going to distract me all night lmao

53. Mutual pining

41. First kiss

6. Bookshop AU

Din Djarin x Reader

Owning your own little bookshop had its pros and cons. Some of the cons, to name a few, was worrying about making enough to keep the store open, dealing with angry people when you shop didn't carry the book they wanted, the building you were in was old and leaked every time it rained, and just the entire business side of the bookstore bored you and made your anxiety raise just thinking about it. But the pros, those more then made up for the stress of counting each penny in order to order stock. And those pros came in the form of your two favorite customers, a young boy, always dressed in the cutest green frog sweater and his father who took your breath the first time he walked into you small store. Din Djarin was handsome in a way that was devastating. Not only was he physically handsome, with brown eyes that screamed of kindness, broad shoulders and a narrow waist, hands big enough to dwarf any book in your store, and scruff that was so patchy you couldn't help but find it cute, but Din was also handsome in the way that he acted, the way he would gently talk to his son as they picked out books or as he sat in the reading nook and read to Grogu, the way he would always ask about your day, how when he saw you struggling with boxes on more than one occasion he had stepped in and moved them for you not letting you lift another box. Din was sweet and kind to you, and with every small smile he gave you, you thought your heart would burst from your chest. And his son, Grogu, was obviously in the best hands. The boy was just as polite as his father, and just as devastatingly cute. The young boy, who you always joked about being your best customer, always ran into the store with an excites wave and a smile, and almost always ran and gave you the biggest hug he could. On occasion, the little cutie would bring you a present to add to a shelf you had cleared just for him. The presents were what you'd expect a kid to give, a dandelion, a colorful leaf, a shiny rock, and once a piece of candy that Din explained he had cried over for days after seeing it before Din went and bought it for him. You cared deeply for the two, and they brightened your weeks with each visit they made.

One week, it had been raining and storming every single day with no reprieve. You had all but written off seeing the two, knowing they always walked to your shop, but there you were shocked when a tiny frog rainbooted blur came dashing towards you and wrapped your legs in a hug, quickly followed by a hushed stern voice saying, "Stop it kid, you're gonna get them all wet!"

You could only giggle and lean down to give him a proper hug, looking over towards Din, saying, "If getting wet is the price I pay for my favorite and best customer's hug, then I'll gladly take it."

Din only shook his head and gave you his small smile, making you bite the inside of your lip feeling the rush of warmth in your chest and face. The two then disappeared into the children's section, you occasionally hearing Grogu's giggle, or Din's quiet rumbling voice, making you grin as you walked around organizing shelves. Eventually, you got lost in thought, humming quietly to yourself as you worked. You hadn't noticed the set of eyes watching you, and you barely caught the throat being cleared before you bumped into what you could have almost mistaken for a bookshelf with how solid it was. When you turned to look up, eyes wide and already apologizing, you found Din's soft eyes looking at you. Din took no time brushing your apology to the side, before furrowed his brows and saying, "There is a bucket full of water in the middle of the children's section."

You sighed painfully and nodded, before turning back to your work to both somewhat distract yourself from the way his eyes were boring into you, and to keep you hands busy from nervous fidgeting, as you said, "Yeah...it leaks back there whenever it rains super hard. I just... I havent been able to get it fixed yet."

Then Din shocked you completely, he grabbed your hand, stilling it and making you look into those soulful eyes before whispering, "I can fix that."

You had tried to argue with him, telling him you'd get to it eventually and making up reason why he shouldn't, but each time he shot you down, until he was paying for the stack of books Grogu had grabbed and he had set up a weekend day he could come over to do the job.

When the weekend finally came around, it was hot and muggy from all of the rain, and Din had shown up with everything he needed, and Grogu, who you agreed to watch while he worked, the least you could do considering he was trying to work without payment. But Din had also shown up in a white t-shirt that hugged his chest and showed off his softer middle, and jeans that fit right in all of the right places, and you couldn't help but feel your mouth go dry. You had closed the store for the day, and had made a lunch for the three of you the night before, so while Din made quick work with the roof, you and Grogu played games and read books in the little reading nook. Eventually, he got hungry so you let him eat, and shortly after he dozed off looking through a hidden images book. With a smile, you tucked him gently into a more comfortable position and draped a soft quilt around his shoulder. When you turned around though your heart stopped and you felt heat rush to your face. While you had been distraction, Din had snuck into the store and watched with an aching heart as you took care of his son, falling for the soft and loving smile that graced your features as you did. When you turned around completely, you took in his form, and felt a pang of guilt with how red his face was from working in the sun, but also a pang of something else entirely as your eyes soaked in the way Din's sweat shirt clung to his chest, leaving nothing to your imagination and how his hair curled so perfectly from the dampness of sweat and the humidity.

"I finished," his soft rumble broke you from you ogling, and the heat in your face spread to your chest as you cleared your throat. "Come sit down then, I made food last night and I imagine you're hungry so eat, and I will go get you some ice water to cool off."

You rushed away, as Din checked on Grogu before settling on the floor, and reaching for the plate that was on the coffee table. You appeared seconds later, setting a glass in front of him, before sitting beside him, grabbing your own plate.

"Sorry it isn't anything fancy, but I thought that the ravioli would be something Grogu and you both may like."

"It is perfect, thank you."

The two of you ate in silence after that, both of you stealing glances at the other while they weren't looking. When you finished, you took the plates and set them aside before shyly saying, "Thank you again, Din. You have helped me so much with this favor, and if I can repay you in anyway just tell me."

"It was nothing, and you owe me nothing, I promise."

You looked over at him, a soft and kind smile showing on your face, "I feel bad not doing anything for you or paying you. There has to be something?"

Din was quiet for a few minutes, his eyes taking in your earnest and open body language, taking in how your own eyes danced around his form, and before he could think twice about it, he said, "There is one thing..."

"Anything, you only have to ask."

Din took in how perked up you were, leaning towards him in the small space that separated the two of you. Taking a deep breath for courage, Din leaned in himself, and whispered, hot breath ghosting over your face, "A kiss?"

You swallowed thickly in shock, and met his gaze, finding no teasing look, only want so soft you thought you'd melt, so you replied by softly nodding and slowly drifting your eyes shut. Then you felt it, a soft brush of plush lips against your own, before they connected fully. The kiss was quick, and loving, and you followed his lips as he pulled away. Slowly, you both looked at eachother, taking in the other's reaction, before reaching out again. You buried one of your hands in Din's sinfully soft curls, as one of his broad palms cupped your cheek. This kiss was more passionate, but not pushing. The two of you finally just enjoying the feel of the other. The kiss expressed so much love and passion that it had you addicted and never wanting to pull away. But eventually the two of you needed to leave the other for air, and as your chests both heaved slightly, Din whispered while his forehead pressed against yours, "I also wouldn't say no to a date."

Send Me Tropes

#fanfic tropes ask game #din djarin x reader #din x reader #whoever points out the reference i made gets a big kiss and all of my love

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