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onlyhereforthestories · 17 days ago

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Ice Falling (Ingrid Engen x Reader)

Day 7 woooooo. I really loved writing for Ingrid I want to do more with her

You weren’t quite sure how Ingrid had convinced you to go ice skating, especially considering your well-documented lack of skill on skates. But the holiday atmosphere in the city, with lights twinkling on every tree and garlands hung on every lamp post, had you feeling festive. When Ingrid suggested an afternoon at the outdoor rink, her face alight with excitement, it was impossible to resist.

The rink itself was magical. Tiny string lights dangled from above, and festive music filled the air as families, couples, and friends circled the ice, their laughter and cheers echoing around you. As you stepped onto the ice, the reality of what you’d agreed to became clear. You’d never felt this unsteady, and immediately reached out to grip the side of the rink, sliding ungracefully in an attempt to steady yourself.

Meanwhile, Ingrid glided over with effortless ease, skating backward and giving you an amused, sympathetic grin. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, and the sparkle in her eyes hinted at how much she was enjoying watching your struggles, something you did have to admit was rare.

“Here, take my hands,” she said, stretching her gloved hands toward you. You took them gratefully, her hands firm and steady in yours. She was watching your every move with that familiar, playful smile, ready to catch you if you slipped but also tease you when it happened.

“Alright, step one: don’t think about it too much. Just keep your knees bent and glide with me.” She spoke gently, encouragingly, but there was also a spark of amusement in her eyes as she took a small step backward, pulling you along.

You couldn’t help but laugh at your own shaky steps as you tried to mimic her graceful movements. “Easy for you to say! You’re practically flying out here.”

She laughed, a bright, infectious sound. “I guess this is one benefit of growing up around snowy fields,” she teased, glancing down at your feet as you inched forward. “But you’re doing great, really.” You had been to Ingrids hometown for Christmas last year and got to truly witness what a white Christmas is. Norway was covered in a thick layer of the white powder for pretty much the whole of the winter, whereas England where you grew up barely saw and inch a year. It was no wonder you couldn’t skate to save your life, and Ingrid was the epitome of beauty gliding across it. Although you would always say she was the epitome of beauty doing whatever she does so.

Slowly, with her steady grip and gently encouragement, you found a bit of a rhythm. The two of you moved together, although every now and then you would wobble, nearly taking her down with you. Each time, she’d laugh and pull you back upright, her hold on you never wavering. The taller woman always had a way that made you feel safe.

At one point, she took one of your hands and led you out a bit further into the open ice, away from the wall. “Look at you! See? We’re actually moving now,” she said, her grin wide as she skated alongside you, no longer having to be in front of you dragging you along.

You couldn’t help but laugh, both exhilarated and a little terrified, feeling your feet slide with every step. “Please don’t let go of me,” you said, half-joking, though you held onto her hand as if it were the only thing keeping you upright. And maybe it was. No maybe about it.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied, her gaze softening as she gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. Now that you were starting to get a hang of the balancing and moving part, she started pointing out small tricks to help even more: how to bend your knees just right, how to lean forward for balance. Every time you got a little better, she’d cheer, her delight as genuine as if you’d just won a match. An expression you knew from her very well.

In moments between her instructions, she’d make you laugh which ultimately put you off balance and then shed tease you lightly when you wobbled. She couldn’t resist playfully pulling you along at times, giving you just enough of a thrill to get your heart racing with that I’m about to fall adrenaline. You’d squeal, clinging to her hand, and she’d only laugh harder, loving every second. Which in turn made the slight seconds of scared worth it, you’d do pretty much anything to hear that sound coming from the woman.

Eventually, after a few laps, you found yourself actually gliding a bit smoother. You let out a triumphant laugh, and Ingrid cheered along with you, proud of your small victory. And it was a small victory because you still hadn’t let go of the Norwegians hand. As you glided around the rink with the woman you loved you couldn’t help getting lost in the moment, the Christmas music playing from the speakers around the rink, the flashing lights strung perfectly around the bars on the side of the rink, and the cold breeze whipping your cheeks just right for the setting. It all made you feel like you were floating.

After a little while longer, Ingrid guided you back over to the entrance to the rink, she held your hand firmly as you took the step off the ice. Only when both your feet were on solid ground did you release the brunette’s hand with a sigh of relief. “Thank god for that. I think my blood pressure is through the roof.” Ingrid couldn’t help the laughter that burst out at your comment.

“I think you deserve a hot chocolate after your ordeal my love.” She said, smiling as she caught her breath. She took your hand back in hers after you both returned your skates, and you noticed the ease at which she pulled you along with her. That ease that comes with love and trust in a person to just go with them no matter what, a feeling that was very new to you but you wouldn’t change for the world.

Once you both had your drinks, she led you over to a bench overlooking the rink. You huddled close, her arm around your shoulders as you sipped from your cups, watching the other skaters’ whiz by. Ingrid was warm beside you, and every now and then she’d nudge you playfully as a skater on the ice wobbled or stumbled, as if to say hey, look they are doing what you did.

You sat in that comfortable silence for a while before Ingrid spoke. “You really did great out there,” she said, her voice soft. She looked at you with a smile that was equal parts pride and fondness.

“Only because I had you to hold onto,” you replied, leaning into her. She chuckled, resting her head against yours.

“Well, I have to admit,” she said, gazing out at the rink with a thoughtful expression, “I like being able to hold onto you, too. Maybe we should make this a new holiday tradition?”

You turned to her, catching the warmth in her eyes, the soft way she looked at you with a mix of admiration and contentment. “Oh, honey you haven’t got a chance of this happening again.” Ingrids face split into the biggest grin as the giggles escaped her. It might not be a new tradition for you both, but it is a memory you won’t forget anytime soon.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen imagine

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lanormie · 14 days ago

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heathens

how you met Dabi and Shigaraki during a prison break wc: 1.4k cw: graphic violence, minor character death, implied sexual harassment

Whoever came up with the idea of implementing gen-pop at Tartarus is an imbecile.

Leave it to the Commission and their precious heroes to believe the most dangerous and irredeemable criminals should ‘get a chance at rehabilitation’ by socializing with other dangerous and irredeemable criminals. It’s utterly ironic that most of them end up getting shipped off to rot in solitary anyway, with how often vicious fights and mutinies break out.

These people, or these villains, are either masterminds or mass-destruction weapons, or somewhere in between. But they all have one thing in common: they’re absolutely batshit insane. And when it comes to keeping these psychotic individuals in check, quirk-nullifying cuffs are band-aid on a bullet hole. So naturally, they’re never really ‘in check’.

You’d like to think you’re also batshit insane, but after spending months in this pit of hell, you don’t think you have a realistic point of reference anymore. After all, you still have some pitiful remnants of sanity left at the bottom of the barrel, and they tell you that those 15 minutes of outdoor time everyday is worth not choking the shit out of Tosaka, the creepy ass guard assigned to your block.

Most days are spent keeping to yourself, constantly looking over shoulder watching out for Tosaka’s wandering hands, and doodling like a fucking toddler who has only one way of expressing their morbid and unfiltered obsession with mortality: through hilariously wobbly drawings that involve blood and scattered innards.

Crunch.

The lead of your pencil gives out under the pressure of your hand, and you curse. A strange foreboding feeling has been weighing you down all day, keeping you awfully on edge.

Tension has been simmering within the confines of these reinforced walls for days, ever since that one high-profile criminal was escorted through the halls of Tartarus towards their current holding: the solitary wing.

Shigaraki Tomura.

He hasn’t been released to gen-pop yet, but his presence has already divided the prisoner population neatly into two. The first half are foaming at their mouth for a challenge, and the other half are quaking in their boots and sweating bullets. Either way, it’s not going to be a pretty sight.

Getting up from your creaking metal bench, you make your way towards the hand crank pencil sharpener. Looking up to make sure Tosaka isn’t around to make some nasty comment, you shove the pencil into the receptor, eyes catching on to some movements across the room.

The crowd near the entrance starts to cautiously part, and you see two high-level guards escorting in a new face. A patchy, stitched together by staples face, like a fucked up teddy bear. His frightfully bright turquoise eyes peer around as he keeps getting pushed forward by the guards, seemingly bored out of his mind. Until those lidded orbs catch yours.

A roguish smirk pulls painfully at the staples around his cheek as he gets led in your direction. He keeps his eye contact keen till he’s almost past where you stand, only then does he mouth a string of words to you.

“Count to ten.”

And you do.

One.

He winks mischievously before finally turning away.

Two.

The guards urge him through the exit behind you.

Three.

You realize that’s the exit leading to the solitary wing.

Four.

You return the to the hand crank sharpener.

Five.

You start rotating the crank with utmost caution.

Six.

You check to see if the pencil is at its peak sharpness.

Seven.

It is.

Eight.

You take a deep inhale.

Nine.

And exhale.

Ten.

Alarm starts blaring, its sound deafening and its red light blinding. It’s an assault to the senses, but you know better than to start cowering. Some rumbling can be felt through the floor, and whatever it is is barreling its way in your direction.

Suddenly someone’s yanking you backward, and you whip around to find Tosaka with his features twisted in panic and anger.

“Inmate, back to your cell, now!”

“Unhand me bitch.”

You snarl, and with practiced precision, you jam the pencil into his eye socket.

An ear piercing shriek leaves his throat, catching other guards’ attention. But before they can mobilize, a wave of prisoners, no doubt emboldened by your mutiny, moves to take them down one by one.

With the pencil in your hand still wedged into Tosaka’s brain, you jog the bastard backward towards the wall behind him and smash his skull against it, knocking the jerk out cold. Immediately, you start rummaging through his pockets till you find the tiny metal god that would answer all your prayers: the quirk nullifying cuff master key.

You are finally free of the cuffs when the entrance wall gets smashed open. And then you see them. Grotesque, dripping in blood and saliva, brain-hanging-out-in-the-open absolute freaks of nature.

Nomus.

Not looking to die a gory death today, you press yourself against a column and watch the creatures pummel their way towards the solitary wing, reducing guards and prisoners alike to puddles of crimson flesh.

Holding your breath as they rip the doors apart and disappear into the hall, you back away towards the entrance, hoping the wreckage they left on their way in would lead you out of here.

C’mon, gimme something. Where are you buddy?

You close and open your palm repeatedly, searching and willing for your quirk to kick into gear. The path to the outside is hilariously straightforward, almost like a tunnel, with sweet, sweet sunlight shining in at the end of it. Stuffing your lungs with a deep inhale, you step on the gas.

You’re so close to ditching this joint when a blur of woody brown abruptly lands in front of you.

“Not an inch further, inmate.”

Another thud lands behind you and you whip around.

Heroes. You’re cornered by goddamned heroes.

Turning back forward, you decide to buy yourself some time.

“Kamui Woods! Wow, the news made you look so much taller.”

Any second now.

“And you!” You turn towards the other hero. “Sorry, no clue who you are.”

“I’m–”

“Don’t give a shit.” You cut him off. “Why don’t you guys make yourselves useful and chase after the real threat in there, hm? Nomus seem way more urgent than little ol me– ow!”

Kamui Woods’ woody tendrils shoot out and wrap around your upper body in suffocatingly tight coils. You, however, don’t even bother to wiggle out of the hold, because you can finally feel it approaching. And it’s approaching fast.

The corner of your lips pulls into a smirk when a small blur of white dashes in from the entrance, ripping straight through the tree trunk bastard’s heart on its way to its final destination: the center of your open palm.

You’re reunited once more with your most prized possession: the ivory blade crafted from your own rib bones. A deadly weapon which you can manipulate its shape, size, density and speed through your quirk. And most importantly, it always comes back to you.

A maniacal cackle bubbles from your chest as the wooden tendrils fall limply from your body.

“You fucking idiot!” You roar at the fallen form of the Number Four Hero. Or shall you say, former No. 4 Hero. “You should’ve gone for the hands!”

You must’ve looked insane with the bloodlust craze in your eyes and the crimson-stained blade dangling from your hand cause when you finally turn around, you find the no-name fuckface slowly backing away from the scene.

Only to turn a petrifying gray, as if he has just looked Medusa in the eye, and disintegrate into dust. The ashened particles fall to the ground like sand, revealing a lanky figure with long, wavy silver locks cascading down his shoulders.

The stranger stares curiously at the corpse of Kamui Woods, his eyes following the splatter of blood from the hero’s left chest all the way to the dripping tip of your beloved dagger.

All of the sudden, the rubbles and ruins behind him erupt into scorching blue flames. Moments after, the raven haired man you saw earlier emerges from the fire, looking not a least bit bothered by the raging heat.

Ruby and sapphire orbs meet yours, and in the flickering light of the inferno, the two men look ethereal. Like some deities blessed with breathtaking carnage and destruction.

Like angels of hell.

Scarred lips crack into a wide malevolent grin, and with a voice as thorny as his aura, the silvered hair man declares.

“It looks like you might be one of us.”

my sincerest apologies to Kamui Woods stans 🧎‍♀️ reader is a Tartarus level criminal with a pseudo mjolnir, he didn't stand a chance 🫡

#and that kids is how i met your fathers #VERY loosely inspired by Heathens by Twenty One Pilots #dabi #shigaraki tomura #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #kamui woods #mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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bestshopping2025 · 8 days ago

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bunny-jpeg · 9 months ago

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trust - astarion ancunin

pairing: astarion ancunin x fem!reader rating: 18+ tags: pwp, smut, outdoor sex, intimacy & love, missionary, sappy & sweet

Oh how times had changed. Astarion was a new man, more of a man than he was for the past two hundred years. He was no longer a captive to a sadistic vampire master who only saw Astarion as a means to capture prey.

And it all changed because the vampire spawn made the acquaintance of a young traveller. If Astarion had a bit more malice in his heart he would've killed you or at least tried. But you showed him a kindness that he didn't understand at first.

'Why me?' He'd often think to himself when you proved that there was no malicious intent with your actions. If he wanted to be free from the curse of a spawn, then you'd help him with his goal. It took him a while to get adjusted to the freedom.

But Astarion was a curious man. The way a moth is curious when nearing a flame. He wondered if he'd get burned, or worse, fully disintegrated. Dust from your simple touch.

“I want you.” He said softly one night, his voice low in your ear, “Will you join me tonight?” His slender fingers caught strands of your hair. It was an old seduction tactic, but it wasn't to find food for his master. It was to indulge in passion for himself.

You looked over to him. Your eyes met his, you were captivated by the red of his eyes. You could only describe them as rubies, but you knew they held a lot of heartbreak. Only one look at his back gave you all the answers you needed.

“Astarion.” You replied, “Do you want me to join you?”You fully turned around. There was a slight height difference between you two so you had to tilt your head to look at him, “Do you want me, or do you want to feed?”

He frowned, “Of course I want you, why wouldn't I?” He leaned in closer, “I want to know what our party leader tastes like. You freed me of my strings, darling. I am no puppet to no master. If I want you, it's of my own free will.” His expression softened.

You reached for him and touched his face. His skin was cool and soft. Part of you expected it to be like marble the way his features were carved. Your gaze quickly dropped to his lips before you made eye contact once more. You dragged your touch down to his chest and placed your hand over where his heart was.

If it was still beating you wondered if it would be racing. Questions of Astarion's mortal place died on your tongue, bringing up the past would only ruin the mood.

Just as Astarion was curious about you, you were curious about him. A high elf turned vampire, a magistrate turned spawn. A creature of the night with an insatiable lust for blood. So many questions yet so little answers.

“Tell me again you want me.” You said.

He leaned closer, he crowded into your space as he said softly, “I want you. I want all of you, darling. I want to know what you feel like inside and out. I wish to devour you whole.” He pulled away, his hand took yours, “Is that enough convincing?“

You frowned, ”I am trusting you, Astarion.“

He chuckled, ”That's the first I've ever heard that. I don't think anyone has ever trusted me.“ He took your other hand, his fingers locked with yours, ”This will be exciting then, Trust.“ You could see the hint of a smile on his lips. You were inclined to smile back.

You gave him his freedom. You ripped the chains from him and gave him the choice to determine his own life. You could not heal his vampirism, but you could care for him. Maybe make him believe he wasn't a monster.

Trust. There was a nice ring to it. Trust between two willing parties and as he led you through the thick of the woods, you were more than willing to see how deep the trust ran.

The moon hung heavy in the sky as if it was threatening to drop on the earth. It cast a light across the land as you stepped out from the woods and into a clearing.

You held his hand tighter when you heard the call of an owl from the top of one of the trees.

”I'm certain an owl won't hurt you, darling.“ He led you to behind a grand rock, ”If It does, however. I'll slit its throat.“ His smile grew before he took you by the face and pulled you in for a tight kiss.

You tensed for a moment, your eyes widened before you relaxed into his touch and melted into the kiss. You held onto his arms and further the kiss. You could hear your heart racing in your ears. This was a strange feeling.

You had been intimate with men before. You were no stranger to their anatomy. But there was something enthralling about Astarion that you couldn't put into words. He was unlike any other being you had known.

He shuddered against your kiss before he pulled away, his breathing was a tad heavier. He sank with you down to the grass. The boulder obscured you both from viewing. It allowed you a little more privacy.

No owls had to see what you two were about to do.

”I've become addicted to you, my dear. I had been in a cage for so long and you freed me without a second thought.“ He took your face in his hands and he gazed down at you, ”You could've easily made me your slave. But instead you are more than willing to put a stake through the heart of my master. We have killed for each other and quite frankly, I'll continue to kill anyone who gets in our way.“

You wrapped your arms around him delicately, ”I want you to be a free man, Astarion. Even if I want to, I could never tame you. It would be like taming the great North Star, it's impossible.“

He chuckled softly, ”Getting soft on me now, aren't we?“ He tried not to feel the tug in his chest from your kind words. Maybe it was a desire to be in control and not collapse from the weight of your kind words.

You moved his hands away from your face and you held both of them to your eye level. You kissed his cold knuckles, all of his skin was smooth and soft. He hadn't aged a day in over two hundred years. You closed your eyes, ”You are the brightest star I can see.“ You opened them once more to meet his gaze, ”I would follow you to the pit of hell if it meant being by your side.“

Astarion looked at you, with minor shock across his face. He turned his head briefly to compose himself before he looked back to you, ”I think you'll be leading me to hell, darling. But it shall be much warmer with you by my side.“

You two kissed once more. Slowly you were stripped of your clothes. You parted so he could get your armour off of you along with the clothes underneath. Soon your items laid around you. You pressed your bare chest up against the front of his shirt.

The softness of the material tickled your breasts and paired with the cool air, your nipples grew hard. You exhaled deeply as you propped yourself up against the rock. You could feel the heat lingering in your face.

You could feel the heat intensify as he began to strip himself. You had seen Astarion nude before, you have seen all of your members nude at one point or another. It was the reality of being so close together. But under the pale moonlight, he looked less like a monster and more like a divine being.

Carved from the highest quality marble, the lines of his body enticed you. You swallowed as your eyes reached his hardened cock. Your hands dug into the green grass under you. It was impressive, sizable but not intimidating. To see it that close was far different than seeing it from a distance as he bathed in the river.

He noticed your gaze and reached down to touch the top of your head. His hand combed through your hair as he said, ”No need to feed my ego, darling. I know what you're going to say.“

You looked up to his face and straightened up, ”I didn't say anything.“

He laughed, ”You don't have to, I can see it in the lines of your forehead.“ He rubbed his thumb against the creases to smooth them out, ”I guess you want me as much as I want you.“

”I want you.“ You confirmed.

He got down to the ground quickly and encroached on your space once more. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, mindful of the scars on his back. The kiss you shared was more heated then the previous ones.

The time for affection was over as lust emerged. It heated your body as you both laid in the grass. His hands explored your body. He ran fingers across your own scars. He felt every curve that you possessed, he felt the moles and the raised scars from your dedication to training. You heard him hiss into the kiss as he grew more aroused by the feeling of you so close to him.

In over two hundred years he never had the fortune of a lover like you.

He laid you out on the grass, he gazed down at you. He kept himself up as he dug his hands in the grass under you. He took a moment to admire you. He had seen many mortal nude during his time on this planet. But there was a connection between you two that he couldn't deny. It wasn't sex for the sake of a meal. It was sex built on a foundation of trust.

For the first time in a long time, Astarion trusted you. In his eyes you could do no wrong.

If he was a star, then you were the angel that hung him up in the night sky.

”My darling." He said softly as he grabbed you by the waist and rested himself on his heels. His cock stood at full attention as he rubbed it up against your cunt.

You covered your face with his hands, “Astarion.”

“Don't hide yourself from me. I want to see how I make you feel.“ He replied as he reached to your face and pulled away your hands, ”Don't make me pin them down.“

You swallowed, ”You don't have to."

"Good.“ He replied softly. He brushed his cock up against your wet slit. He exhaled sharply from the feeling. It made his cock twitch with excitement. He soon guided his cock into your sweet sex.

He tried to pace himself so as to not cause you discomfort. He kept his eyes on you for any signs of pain as he sank further into you. His jaw tensed as he felt the warmth of lust spread from his gut. Soon he had every last centimetre inside of you.

You had taken him so well. He leaned down to pull you into a tight kiss, his hands were back on your hips as to guide them up and down his cock. You let out a high pitched noise that was muffled by his lips on yours.

”You feel divine, darling.“

”Shit, Astarion.“ You replied. Your heart drummed in your chest, your breathing was heavy as you laid in the soft grass. When he thrusted up into you it felt like his cock was pushing your insides up into your throat or maybe it was your heart trying to make a quick escape from the amount of pleasure you felt through your body.

You'd dare to say that your intimate encounter was romantic. Two bodies together in the depths of lust. He leaned over you and you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. In an effort to keep both of you quiet as you rutted like animals.

He played with your breasts as you tighten your legs around his waist. The sounds of your love making filled the open night air. You were thankful that you were far enough away from camp that there wouldn't be any curious members trying to seek you two out.

As if Astarion wasn't going to let the others know in his own sly way. Especially in front of Gale, who he thought had his eye on you. The vampire could have a jealous streak run through him like a splash of light in a dark sky.

Your hands roamed his shoulders, your fingers dipped low enough to touch the scars on his back. He melted into your touch, a sign of comfort towards your hands on him.

When he broke the kiss, he continued to thrust inside of you.. His eyes met yours once more, ”You look lovely under me.“

You reached out for him and held his face as you moved in time with his thrusts. You replied, ”I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.“

”Good.“ He said, 'Because I have no intention of letting you under another man or woman. For as long as your heart beats, you will be mine.”

You leaned up to kiss him on the nose. It was so intimate as you replied, “That sounds good to me.” Then you two kissed once more as you felt yourself nearing climax.

Hands roamed, bodies moved. Lust filled the night air as the two of you made love under the moonlight. A life with the vampire didn't seem so horrible. You tightened your legs around him as he rocked back and forth against you.

Your heart fluttered at the feeling of intimacy between you two. Trust was all you could think of. It was the adhesive that kept you two together, that and an undying, unwavering commitment to one another.

Astarion, the vampire and you, the mortal, rutted against one another in the dead of night. You gripped onto his shoulders as the intense feeling of climax flooded your bloodstream and made you light headed.

You yearned for the release. You wanted to orgasm on his cock. You could feel the grass stick to your sweaty back as the two of you moved together. The gentle sounds between you two as the urge became stronger.

You were no longer alone in these travels. You didn't only have a party to rely on, but also a vampiric lover who wanted nothing more than to devour you. You were his; mind, body and soul. But he too was yours in the same way.

Matched in wits and skill. Fighters till the end. The thought excited you. What would become of your future?

With another searing kiss, you both climaxed in each other's arms. You clawed your nails down his arms as his grip bruised your hips. With a final thrust, he finished inside of you. He marked you as his, and the thought made his body run hot.

When he pulled away, he looked down at you. He said with a smile, ”Forever mine.“ Before he pulled out of you and laid beside you in the grass.

Your breathing was laboured as you laid next to him. You could feel his cum stick to your inner thigh as he spooned you. You held his hand as he held you by the middle.

His lips grazed at your neck. He sighed with content, ”I could turn you tonight and we'd be together until the sun melted the earth.”

You chuckled softly, “How about we finish our quest first. Then we can spend eternity together.”

He replied, “I can be impatient. But I will be patient for you, my love.”

You relaxed into his arms and felt your eyes grow heavy, “Good. Now let's kill Cazador.”

He chuckled, “Of course, my dear.” Then laid one last kiss onto your heated skin. He was scared at the thought of seeing his master again. But maybe, just maybe, with you by his side, he'll gain the courage to break himself fully free of the chains he carried.

If you believed he could be free, then he'll trust you and believe it himself.

#bunny writes #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion #astarion smut #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 fanfiction

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sunrenity · 9 months ago

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girlfriend (ask you out!) ✶ enhypen

s — how they would ask you to be their girlfriend (or ask you out).

p enhypen ot7 x fem!reader . g fluff, high school au . wc 1806 (1.8k) . bookshelf

꒰ ☕ ꒱ note — help i did NOT intend it to be this long...

이희승ㅤ✦ㅤlee heeseung

the school courtyard was a picturesque sight with the sun setting low in the sky. its warm golden rays lent an ethereal glow to the surroundings, making everything look more beautiful than ever. heeseung had been mustering up the courage to approach you all day, but his heart was filled with trepidation at the mere thought of asking you out.

as lunch break approached, heeseung's eyes darted around in search of you. there you were, sitting alone at a picnic table, engrossed in a book. the sight of you took his breath away, and he felt his heart race faster than ever before.

taking a deep breath, he walked over to you, his heart pounding. he cleared his throat lightly to get your attention and said, "hey, y/n," rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "i was wondering... would you like to go out with me sometime?"

you looked up, surprised but smiling. "sure, heeseung. i'd love to," you replied warmly.

his face lit up with a grin, and he let out a relieved sigh. "great, i'll text you," he said, feeling a wave of happiness wash over him.

rest of the members under the cut!

박종성ㅤ✦ㅤpark jay

jay had always been a confident person, but when it came to you, his heart raced a mile a minute. he had a major crush on you, and he knew that he had to use all his charm and music skills to win you over.

one afternoon, after the school ended, as you were in the school's music room, he approached you with his guitar in hand. the sun was shining, casting a golden glow on his face as he started playing a soft melody. his fingers moved expertly over the strings, and his voice blended beautifully with the chords. you were taken aback by his talent, and the way he looked at you while playing made your heart skip a beat.

as he finished the song, jay looked at you with hopeful eyes. you could see the nervousness on his face as he waited for your response. you were touched by his gesture and a smile spread across your face. "so, what do you say, y/n? will you be my girlfriend?" he asked.

you laughed, feeling warmth spreading through you at his words. you had secretly hoped that he would ask you out, and his romantic serenade had won your heart. "of course, jay," you replied, unable to contain your excitement.

his smile widened, and he pulled you into a tight hug, guitar and all. you could feel his happiness and relief as he held you close. it was a moment you would never forget, and the beginning of a beautiful relationship filled with music, laughter, and love.

심재윤ㅤ✦ㅤsim jake

jake had put together an enchanting surprise for you, fully aware of your fondness for the great outdoors and the natural world. he led you to a secluded, idyllic spot in the school garden, where the air was redolent with the fragrance of blooming flowers.

the entire area was bedecked with twinkling fairy lights, lending an ethereal charm to the already magical surroundings. you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment as you took in the beauty of the place.

as you walked hand in hand, he stopped and turned to face you, his cheeks flushed but his eyes determined.

"y/n, spending time with you is always amazing," he began, his voice sincere. "i was hoping we could make it official. will you be my girlfriend?"

you nodded, feeling your heart swell with happiness. "yes, jake, i'd love to."

jake's face lit up with joy as he pulled you into a warm embrace. he leaned in and gave you a gentle, yet passionate kiss under the twinkling fairy lights. the moment was perfect, and you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be in jake's arms, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the magic of love.

박성훈ㅤ✦ㅤpark sunghoon

sunghoon had been paying close attention to your interests and hobbies, and he noticed that you both share a love for ice skating. so, he decided to plan a special and romantic evening around it. he went ahead and reserved a private time slot at the local ice rink, and made sure that the twinkling lights were set up to create a magical atmosphere.

as you stepped onto the ice, sunghoon took your hand, and you began to glide across the rink. you both laughed and chatted, enjoying each other's company as you skated around the rink. sunghoon was an excellent skater, and he guided you expertly, making sure you felt safe and comfortable.

the atmosphere was magical, and the lights created a dreamy ambiance that made you feel like you were in a fairy tale. as you skated around the rink, sunghoon's affection for you grew stronger. he felt a sense of warmth and happiness in his heart, grateful to share this special moment with you.

after a particularly fun spin, sunghoon led you to the center of the rink. his cheeks were flushed from the cold, but his eyes were warm with emotion. "y/n, spending time with you on the ice feels like a dream," he confessed, holding your hands gently. "i was hoping... would you like to go out with me and uhm... be my girlfriend?"

touched by his thoughtful gesture and the magical evening he had planned, you nodded with a smile. "yes, sunghoon, i'd be happy to."

his smile widened, and he pulled you into a tender kiss, feeling a sense of happiness and contentment that warmed him from the inside out. he was grateful for this beautiful moment and the opportunity to share it with you.

김선우ㅤ✦ㅤkim sunoo

sunoo had been planning a thoughtful and romantic gesture to confess his feelings for you. he knew you appreciated the little things, so he decided to create a special evening just for the two of you on the school's rooftop, where he had set up a small picnic with your favorite snacks, drinks, and soft blankets to keep you warm.

as you arrived, the soft glow of fairy lights illuminated the area, creating a cozy and intimate atmosphere. sunoo greeted you with a warm smile, his eyes shining with excitement and nervousness.

"y/n, i've really enjoyed getting to know you," he began, guiding you to the picnic spot. "i wanted to create a special evening where we could spend time together and talk."

you settled down on the blankets, enjoying the serene atmosphere and the breathtaking view of the city skyline. as you chatted and laughed together, sunoo's feelings for you grew stronger, and he knew it was time to share his true feelings.

taking a deep breath, he turned to face you, his eyes filled with emotion. "y/n, every moment with you has been incredible," he said, his voice soft and sincere. "i've been wanting to ask you something... would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?"

touched by his heartfelt confession, the effort he had put into planning the evening, and the genuine connection you felt with him, you nodded with a smile. "yes, sunoo, i'd be happy to."

he beamed, pulling you into a warm hug, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world.

양정원ㅤ✦ㅤyang jungwon

valentine's day was approaching, and jungwon had been thinking of the perfect way to confess his feelings to you. you two had been classmates for a while, sharing a few conversations here and there that left him wanting to get to know you better.

he decided to create a personalized valentine's day card for you, filled with heartfelt messages and memories of your time together. he waited until the end of the day to give it to you, finding a quiet moment when you were alone.

"y/n, i've been wanting to tell you something for a while now," he started, handing you the carefully crafted card. "i've really enjoyed our conversations and getting to know you."

you opened the card, your eyes widening as you read his heartfelt words and saw the memories he had captured. as you finished reading, you looked up to find jungwon watching you, his eyes filled with hope and sincerity.

"y/n, every moment with you has been special," he continued, his voice soft and sincere. "i was hoping we could take the next step. will you be my girlfriend?"

touched by his thoughtful gesture and the effort he had put into making valentine's day memorable, you nodded with a smile. "yes, jungwon, i'd love to."

he smiled, his heart swelling with happiness as he pulled you into a tender embrace, feeling grateful and overjoyed to have you as his girlfriend, marking the beginning of a beautiful relationship filled with understanding and affection.

西村力ㅤ✦ㅤnishimura riki

riki had been dreaming of confessing his feelings for you for a long time. he wanted to make sure that it would be a special moment that you would never forget. after thinking about it for a while, he came up with the perfect plan. he knew how much you loved shopping, so he decided to create a shopping day just for the two of you.

riki did his research and made a list of all your favorite stores. he planned out a route, making sure to include all the places that you loved. he invited you to spend the day with him, starting with brunch at your favorite cafe and then moving on to a day filled with shopping and exploring the city.

as you visited each store, riki watched you with admiration, enjoying seeing you happy and excited. he loved the way your eyes lit up when you saw something you liked and the way you would excitedly tell him about the latest fashion trends. he was mesmerized by your beauty and the way you carried yourself with such grace.

as the day went on, riki realized how much he enjoyed spending time with you and how much he wanted to take your relationship to the next level. taking a deep breath, he turned to face you, his cheeks flushed but his eyes filled with determination.

"y/n, i've had an amazing time with you today," he began, his voice soft and sincere. "i've been wanting to ask you something... would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?"

touched by his thoughtful gesture, the effort he had put into planning the day, and the genuine connection you felt with him, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with emotion. you nodded with a smile, feeling grateful to have found someone so caring and thoughtful.

his face lit up with a radiant smile, and he pulled you into a tender embrace, feeling on top of the world as he held you close. it was a moment that neither of you would ever forget, and the beginning of a beautiful relationship filled with love and joy.

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steddieasitgoes · 1 year ago

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@steddiemas Day 2 Prompt: Winter Sentence Starters

3. Did you know icicles make the perfect murder weapon?

Pairing: Pre-Steddie | wc: 1664 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

“Steve?” Eddie asks, squinting into the blinding lights of the familiar burgundy Beamer that’s parked in front of the mound of snow where the driveway usually is. It’s hard to see with the blinding lights and the sunrise bouncing off the bright snow, but Eddie’s pretty sure it’s Steve. He’s the only one who drives a Beamer around these parts of town, that’s for sure.

Sitting up on the outdoor couch, he adjusts the bundle of blankets around his shoulder. His hand fumbles in between the couch cushions until he finds the half-empty box of cigarettes and the lighter he and Wayne keep stashed there “in case of emergencies.” It’s a bit of a chore given the gloves covering his hands, but he gets the job done and brings the lit smoke to his winter-chapped lips. After a slow exhale, he tries again.

“Steve? What the hell are you doing here?”

There’s a clattering on the other side of the Beamer, followed by a string of curses before a figure emerges in the shadows of the lights. “Jesus dude,” Steve gasps. One hand stays pressed against his chest, the other clings to a snow shovel. “What the hell are you doing here? You should be inside it’s freezing out.”

It is freezing out, but there’s not that big of a difference between out here and inside Eddie’s bedroom. Not since the space heater took a shit at 2 am. He tried to fix it, he did. But it’s actually really damn hard to fix a space heater at 2 am when you’ve only slept for an hour because of chronic pain and nightmares and you can’t find the damn toolbox that’s supposed to be tucked away in the closet.

Frustrated beyond belief, Eddie needed a smoke and one thing led to another, and the next thing he knew he was being woken up by the rumbling of Steve’s Beamer. At least he was smart enough to put on gloves and wrap himself in his duvet before coming out here.

“Seriously, man. You’re going to freeze to death.”

“You know the dramatics are my thing,” Eddie teases, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself. “I’ve got a blanket and gloves.” Eddie wiggles his fingers for extra emphasis. “And this head of hair isn’t just for looks. Actually keeps me pretty warm too.”

Steve snorts, absentmindedly tugging on the end of his scarf. “Yeah, okay, man. Whatever you say.”

“So, I ask again,” Eddie says, pausing to exhale another puff of smoke. “What are you doing here at whatever time it is.”

“It’s 5,” Steve supplies, then holds up the snow shovel. “Who do you think shovels the snow around here since you’re out of commission? The snow fairy?”

The smoke in Eddie’s lungs gets trapped as his body tries to laugh and instead, he sends himself into a coughing fit that has him clutching his already aching sides. “First of all fuck you. Don’t joke about fairies!” he says, all bark no bite. “Secondly, I usually shovel the snow, but as you are aware, I’m still not allowed to lift more than two pounds thanks to our wonderful Spring Break adventures.”

“And you’re milking that for all it’s worth.”

Eddie’s quick to flip him the bird, rolling his eyes in the process. “S’Wayne paying you? That old bastard better not be paying you. I never got a dime when he made me shovel.”

“Probably because you always forgot, right?”

“You know what, Steve,” Eddie starts, trying to get up from the couch when a rush of pain races up his torso. Jesus H. Christ, he should be used to this by now. Biting his lip to keep the groan in, he settles himself back on the couch.

“M’just messing with you, Eds,” Steve says, shooting him an apologetic look. If anyone knows the pain he’s going through, it’s Steve. And yet, Steve’s wounds healed in record time, and Eddie’s on month nine of barely being able to make it down the three steps of his trailer. Yet another unfairness the universe has drawn for him.

“I was over helping the Mayfields during the last big storm and saw your uncle struggling to park after his shift. Figured if I’m here helping Max, I could help you guys out too. No big deal.”

Eddie’s not sure what universe Steve lives in, but agreeing to do manual labor for free is a big deal. A massive, big deal, actually. At least, in his universe it is. He doesn’t sign up for any sort of manual labor unless he’s getting paid. Fuck capitalism and all that, but also, you know, it’s only fair to cash in when it benefits him.

“Right, well, m’sure my uncle appreciates it.”

“He does,” Steve nods, resting the shovel on his shoulder. “So, you gonna quit distracting me now so I can get to work?”

Eddie extends one glove-covered hand out in front of him, fanning it out over the mountain of white snow separating them. “The snow is yours, my liege.”

Steve snorts, shaking his head. He takes a few steps away from the Beamer before repositioning the shovel in his hands. In one fluid motion, he drives the shovel the mix of fresh and packed snow. The metal clatter against the frozen chunks at the bottom but the sound doesn’t drown out the groan that leaves Steve's lips as he hoists a giant pile of snow up and over to the side.

Jesus H. Christ.

Eddie takes an extra long drag from his cigarette, eyes glued to Steve as he does the same thing again. He holds the smoke in his lungs, tries to concentrate on not choking as he watches Steve shovel another massive pile of snow away.

There’s at least twenty feet of distance between them, but Eddie’s eyes are glued to Steve. His pale blue puffy jacket does a lot to obscure his muscles, but Eddie’s always had an overactive imagination. He doesn’t need a clear visual to know that Steve’s biceps are straining every time he hoists the shovel out of the snow. Or the way his back muscles flex, showing off that swimmer's upper body of his.

Steve’s ditched snow pants like most do around here and instead has his trusty pair of blue jeans on. Eddie knows from experience that denim does little to shield the freezing temperatures, but he can’t complain. Not when Steve’s ass is on full display when he squats to investigate what the shovel has just slammed into. (A stray dog toy from two trailers over.)

If he doesn’t look away soon, he’s going to be in trouble. Even the cold as fuck temperature can’t keep the blood from rushing to his dick for long. A blessing and a curse, Eddie supposes.

Taking another drag, Eddie tilts his head so it rests against the headrest of the couch. Exhaling, the plume of smoke and cold air mix, getting whisked away in the early morning breeze. It might actually be colder now than it was at 2 am.

With his head still turned upward, he can hear the rhythmic sounds of Steve shoveling the snow. The clink of the metal shovel with the snow, the scrape as he digs it down to the pavement. The occasional huff of frustration when Steve’s bitten off more than he can chew. Stubborn as always.

If he keeps making noises like that though, Eddie’s going to need a lot more than a smoke and a new direction for his eyes to keep his mind out of the gutter—

Speaking of gutters, they really need to get someone to clear out all the damn icicles clinging to them like damn Christmas trees. One harsh slam of the door and he or Wayne is going to take an icicle straight to the head. A month in a coma, seven months of physical therapy, and one dropped murder charge is not going to go to waste over a goddamn icicle. Not if he can help it at least.

Honestly, out of all of that, he’s still most upset about the murder thing. He won’t even go fishing with Wayne after that one year with the fish who flopped around practically hasping for breath until Wayne stabbed it with his pocket knife. Never again. Eddie prefers his food already cooked and void of eyes thank you very much.

Besides killing someone in his house is way too obvious. An amateur move if he’s ever seen one. He’d at least been more smart about it. If he was going to kill someone, but he’s not. Obviously. But if he was, Eddie’s thoughts trail off as the sun catches on the translucent icicle, washing his body in the warm rays of sunlight.

“You know, icicles would make the perfect murder weapon.”

The sound of the snow shovel clattering to the floor startles him. His head whips in the direction of the noises. It takes a moment a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sudden change in light, but when they do Steve is staring at him, hands on his hips and a frown tugging at his pale lips.

“Maybe don’t joke about murder when we’ve just cleared your name,” Steve scolds, shaking his head. “Or do you want to go back into hiding?”

Eddie’s mouth is faster than his brain, words tumbling out before he has a chance to realize the implications of his words.

“Depends. Would you be hiding me again?”

A sickening silence falls between them as all the blood in Eddie’s body rushes to his cheeks. At least his nose isn’t cold anymore. He’s two seconds away from scampering into the trailer, head slung low in embarrassment when Steve’s unabashed chuckle breaks the silence.

“You can crash at my place anytime, you know.”

No, Eddie did not know that. But now? Now, he thinks that damn space heater isn’t worth bothering Wayne for after all.

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie fan fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #dani writes #stranger things #stranger things fic

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lancermylove · 1 year ago

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Chapter 12 (Ending)

➣ Pairing: Demon brothers, Royals, Solomon with fem!Reader. ➣ Warning: None ➣ Word Count: 2,494 ➣ Chapters [SFW]: [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12] ➣ Chapters [N.SFW]: [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12]

➣ A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

———————————————

You basked in the peace of the gazebo, enjoying one last moment of solitude in the winter wonderland. The snow-peaked mountains served as a tranquil backdrop, and you felt a twinge of sorrow at the thought of leaving this beautiful setting behind. As you took in the breathtaking scenery, you felt the weight of your imminent departure, yet a fond nostalgia for happy memories lingered just beneath the surface.

The past month had been like a dream. From visiting the market with Asmo to watching him befriend Mary, going tree hunting with Beel, sweater shopping with Levi, decorating with Belphie, exploring the woods and cave with Mammon, temporarily brokering a ceasefire between Lucifer and Satan, aurora gazing with Solomon, ice skating with Diavolo, and cooking with Barbatos - you would never forget these memories. You knew you would spend time with them in Devildom, yet you found yourself craving more time with them here.

As the wind picked up, you decided to return to the cabin but paused to admire Mammon and Solomon's outdoor decorations. Golden letters glowed radiantly, spelling out 'Merry Christmas,' and a large white stag stood proudly in the front yard. A pine wreath with a crimson bow and a garland with pine cones, berries, and LED lights adorned the door and the doorframe. Matching garlands were perched on the railing of the second-floor balcony. Blue LED string lights hung on the edges of the roof and the area under the circular balcony. As you admired the decorations, you felt a wave of warmth washing over you.

Walking into the cabin, you reveled in the festive atmosphere created by Diavolo, Belphie, and Satan's endeavors. The interior was brimming with glittering garlands of pinecones and holly, festive silver and gold tinsel strung along the walls, and a glimmering Christmas tree with silver and gold ornaments and garlands, red bows, and colorful string lights. As you surveyed the Christmas tree, you noticed that the star on top was slightly crooked. You recalled how you had grown a bit afraid while climbing the ladder to place the star upright. However, the somewhat crooked star had added extra charm and character to the already beautiful tree.

Your eyes fell on the mistletoe, which you suspected Asmo had hung up, and a playful grin tugged on the corners of your lips. Walking beneath it, you waited for the perfect opportunity to surprise your favorite demon/human. As soon as he grew near, you beckoned him to come over and pointed upwards to the branches tied together with a scarlet ribbon. You flashed them a coy smirk, anticipating their reaction and subsequent move.

Lucifer:

Lucifer smirked at you, and without warning, he placed his hand on the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a fiery kiss. Your lips met in a heated embrace, melting into one kiss after another. He took your lips until you could hardly breathe, and all thoughts escaped your mind save for his warmth and passion.

Mammon:

Mammon blushed, but in a bold move, you pulled him close by his coat's flaps and firmly pressed your lips against his. The demon was initially stunned but quickly returned your kiss, clinging to you while he took your lips with renewed fervor. He continued kissing until you felt lightheaded and out of breath.

Levi:

Levi's eyes widened, and his cheeks turned a bright shade of red. You waited patiently for him to take the initiative and even closed your eyes to help ease his hesitation. After a short while, Levi leaned closer, placing a single soft kiss on your lips.

Satan:

Despite his cheeks turning red, Satan was not opposed to the idea of kissing you under a mistletoe. Keeping his gaze on yours, he softly captured your lips in a sweet, lingering embrace. His kiss was full of delicate tenderness and lasted longer than you anticipated.

Asmo:

Asmo flashed a mischievous grin and gleefully proclaimed that he had hung up the mistletoe in hopes of this very moment. He drew you into a tight embrace and kissed your lips passionately. You eagerly reciprocated the kiss, holding onto him firmly without the hint of letting go anytime soon.

Beel:

Beel chuckled and leaned in closer to your face, but the smell of chocolate from your snack earlier caught his attention. He repeatedly began pecking your lips and stated that the aroma of the chocolate was tantalizing and making him hungry, eliciting a laugh from you.

Belphie:

Belphie gave you a small chuckle and gently cupped your face, drawing you closer before swiftly capturing your lips in a deep kiss that made you gasp. He held onto you tightly, kissing you passionately but with a hint of restraint. The kiss continued for some time until Belphie began to feel drained.

Diavolo:

As the prince spotted the mistletoe, he knew exactly what it meant, thanks to Asmo's explanation. The thought of fulfilling one of his wishes had made him extremely happy, and he hurriedly brought his face close to yours. You braced for a deep kiss, but Diavolo surprised you by kissing your lips softly and sweetly.

Barbatos:

Barbatos gave you a playful smile and grasped your chin, bringing his face closer to yours. A slow, tender kiss was exchanged between you, initially gentle but growing increasingly intimate with each passing moment.

Solomon:

Solomon laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. He then pressed his lips firmly against yours, using plenty of tongue in the kiss to ensure your mind melted and your senses were sent into overdrive.

Barbatos positioned the final dish onto the dining table while you placed the last utensil. Taking a step back, you couldn't help but admire the fragrance of all the dishes, which melded together in a pleasant aroma that was simultaneously sweet yet savory, filling the air with the promise of a flavorful feast. The dishes ranged from roasted turkey, glazed ham, roast potatoes, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce, salads, pretzels, pies, cakes, fudge, candy canes, gingerbread men, and much more.

As the aroma from the dishes filled the air, the others slowly made their way down from their rooms and gathered around the table, staring with wide eyes. Everyone began to shower Barbatos with compliments, but the noise of their voices and praise drowned out any individuality to their words. Out of your peripheral vision, you saw Beel desperately fighting against Lucifer and Diavolo as they tried to prevent him from pouncing on the dining table.

Asmo took his time taking pictures of the dining table, making everyone wait to eat. Fortunately, it didn't take him too long, allowing all of you to settle down and enjoy the meal. You focused primarily on your meal, diving into the deliciously sweet and savory dishes. The small conversation around the table was a pleasant change from the usual loud and chaotic chatter, and everyone appeared to be in a delightful mood as they delved into the bountiful assortment of delectable dishes.

Midway through the meal, you felt eyes on you, prompting you to glance up. To your surprise, you saw Lucifer and Diavolostaring at you with smiles. Lucifer's gaze bore gratitude for bringing them together and helping to create a pleasant atmosphere, while Diavolo's gaze twinkled with joy and happiness. Towards the end of the dinner, everyone reached a state of fullness except Beel, who clearly showed no signs of halting until he had finished every last crumb.

Asmo suddenly gasped as a realization dawned on him. "We forgot to wear the sweaters that (y/n) and Levi brought! I want to take pictures, so can everyone please change?"

Despite some protests against moving after consuming such a heavy meal, everyone went to their respective rooms to get changed. To their surprise, their sweaters were laid neatly on their beds, but none of them took a moment to evaluate the situation as they assumed you were kind enough to bring their respective sweater to their rooms.

Even though the design was a little gaudy for Asmo's taste, he had to admit that the word swapping was fun, allowing him to switch between "nice" and "naughty," depending on his mood. Belphie laughed at the sight of the sweater, which he felt was quite fitting for him with the emphasis on sloth. Beel loved the pizza Christmas tree and was tempted to eat it, and he would have had his twin not stopped him. Lucifer was not amused by his rather gaudy sweater or the fact that Satan compared him to The Grinch. On the other hand, Satan was quite fond of his sweater since it sported a cat. The Avatar of Wrath thought the grumpy cat also resembled Lucifer, which made his older brother glare at him.

After Barbatos explained the meaning behind his sweater to Diavolo, the prince found it absolutely endearing that the T-Rex could not reach the presents at its feet. He also felt bad for this dinosaur and wished he could somehow help the poor creature. On the other hand, the butler smirked when he saw his own sweater. In contrast, the butler smirked when he saw his own sweater, knowing that he could undoubtedly get you or anyone else on the naughty list.

Mammon found his sweater hilarious and laughed because he knew in a matter of a few minutes, he would no longer be innocent and would be found guilty. Solomon looked questioning at Mammon, wondering why the second brother was laughing to himself. Was his Christmas sweater really that funny? The sorcerer examined his own sweater and chuckled - truer words had never been spoken. He preferred to stay on the naughty list and loved every minute of it.

After getting ready, you went into your bathroom to brush your hair and touch up your makeup. As you brushed your hair, you noticed unfamiliar packets dumped in the trash bin. You didn't remember using any product with a black and blue exterior. Examining the packets, you recognized them as the very same items that Mammon had hidden from you days prior. There was no logical reason for them to be there, so why had the second brother tossed them in your trash bin?

Upon closer inspection, you realized that he had attempted to hide them underneath the trash overhead, but they had been inadvertently exposed due to the movement of the trash above. Curiously picking up one of the packets, you noticed what the letters said and quickly ran out of your bathroom, down the hall, and downstairs. But you are too late.

You noticed Mammon in a corner by the fireplace, laughing heartily. Rapidly surveying the room, you saw Lucifer leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed and eyes closed, seemingly unaffected by the situation. However, his eyebrows and the corners of his lips kept twitching, indicating that he was irritated. Still, his pride refused to allow him to openly display his emotions despite his annoyance.

Then, you saw Levi standing in front of the sofas, desperately attempting to reach his back with a perplexed expression. In contrast, Satan seemed to be taking advantage of the corner created by two walls intersecting, rubbing himself against it to scratch his back. Asmo stood near Solomon, panicking and fearing that his flawless skin would be contaminated by the unpleasant sensations he was experiencing. On the other hand, Solomon remained calm and unbothered, using a back scratcher to reach the unreachable places as he listened to Asmo's complaints.

Barbatos stood by Lucifer with his usual joyless smile, seemingly unaffected by the irritation. It was as if he had predicted what would happen and had prepared himself for it ahead of time. In front of him stood Diavolo, who requested the butler's assistance to help scratch his back. Beel remained seated at the dining table, unwilling to give up his meal. He continued enjoying his dinner with one hand while the other scratched Belphie's back. However, the Avatar of Gluttony rubbed his back against the backrest of his chair, hoping to quell the itch bugging him.

You shot a glare at Mammon, who was too occupied with enjoying the chaos and the suffering of the others to pay you any mind. With a look of determination, you ran up to Mammon, grabbed the collar of his sweater, and dumped the remainder of the itching powder into the back of his apparel. The Avatar of Greed yelped, and in moments, he began rolling around on the ground to relieve the itching sensation that now plagued him.

After an hour, everyone gathered back in the living room, annoyed by Mammon's prank to put itching powder in their Christmas sweaters. You stood by the windows and observed the changing weather outside as the snow flurries danced to the rhythm of the wind. Why was the weather taking a turn for the worse? Pushing the thought aside, you turned around to see myriad glares directed at Mammon.

The Avatar of Greed shrugged his shoulders and nonchalantly said, "It ain't a party without someone causin' chaos. That's what the demon brothers are known for, y'know."

The room was filled with an eerie silence after Mammom's comment until Diavolo broke into laughter. He found some truth in the Avatar of Greed's words and agreed. The demon brothers were well-known for their chaotic tendencies, so the inclusion of a 'chaotic touch' was bound to add some entertainment. As the prince laughed, the other demon brothers exchanged confused gazes, yet none said a word, still irritated about experiencing the uncontrollable itching that Mammon had bestowed upon them.

However, Diavolo spoke up in the Avatar of Greed's defense, proclaiming, "It is Christmas today, so forgive Mammon for his doing. It was harmless fun."

Though the other brothers disagreed with the prince's words, they reluctantly decided to let the incident slide, but only for the sake of maintaining peace on Christmas.

"Ah, speaking of Christmas. (Y/n), would you mind explaining to everyone what Christmas is all about?" Solomon said out of the blue. The glint of mischief in his eyes brewed a bad feeling in the pits of your stomach, but against your judgment, you ignored it. What harm could come from explaining to the demons what Christmas was all about? At least, that was what you thought until you began to explain.

"It is a celebration of the birth of-" Your explanation came to a screeching halt when a shocking revelation left you dumbfounded and speechless. Everyone watched in curiosity as the color began to slowly drain from your face.

"Ah, allow me to finish (y/n)'s sentence," Solomon flashed an impish smile. "Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ, meaning you demons celebrated a holiday related to the son of God."

The entire room went silent. All you saw were open mouths, wide eyes, and pale faces. How had you forgotten the most crucial detail about Christmas?

———————————————

➣ Please visit my website for the full masterlist!

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forever-fixating · 5 months ago

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RWRB Appreciation Month Bingo: Color

For @rwrbsource and @rwrbmovie's RWRB Appreciation Month Bingo: Color

Color: Brown

Author's Note: This is just pure fluff. What can I say? Enjoy!

If Henry were to take a page from his boyfriend's book and write a list of things he loved about Alex, the first would be his eyes—so rich in color and expression. The old saying goes that eyes are the windows to the soul. Alex Claremont-Diaz's eyes showed the truth of those words in spades.

Try as he might to hide it, Henry could always tell how Alex was feeling with one look in his eyes. The lively sparkle when he had a secret. The way his smile didn't quite reach them when he was around someone or doing something he didn't like. The glossy vulnerability when he reached the point of "too much." Henry knew many people thought he hit the genetic lottery with his blue eyes, but to those people, he would say, "Give brown eyes another look."

That day, Alex's eyes held that familiar glimmer of mischief. Over the past few days, he kept disappearing to the top floor of Henry's brownstone and ducking out of earshot for secret phone calls. Henry assumed it had something to do with his birthday. After the hell of the past months, Alex seemed determined to "properly" celebrate. Henry messaged all of their friends and loved ones, trying to get a hint of what to expect, only to be met with the same response.

"Be patient."

At 6:30 that afternoon, Henry was on the first floor of the brownstone reading when his phone vibrated with a text from Alex: come to the third floor. He smiled, marking his place in his book, and stood. When he reached the foot of the stairs, he saw his favorite blue cardigan (one of his dad's) draped over the railing with a neon green Post-It that said, "Wear me, so you don't catch a chill like a Dickensian orphan." On a table at the second-floor landing was a single yellow rose. Henry picked it up and brushed his nose against the velvety petals.

He found Alex on the third floor in jeans and a white button-down, a matching rose in his front shirt pocket. Of all the little microexpressions from Alex's eyes, Henry's favorite was the one in those warm brown eyes at that moment: pure love, like Henry was the center of his universe.

"Happy birthday, baby."

Alex took his hand and led him onto the roof of the brownstone. Henry's jaw dropped, and his eyes widened when he took in the sight before them. The once-barren space now held cozy outdoor furniture, including a couch, a love seat, and a stone-top table. Two different coolers sat next to the table with a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket at the center. But the best part was the string lights overhead, each string pulsing at different rates of speed so that the space seemed to shimmer.

Henry threw his arms around Alex, if only to hide the tears threatening to tumble down his cheeks. He let out a great sniffle and said, "I love you, you maddening, perfect, beautiful, thoughtful-"

"Really showing off that English degree, eh, sweetheart?"

Henry pulled back to soundly kiss Alex on the mouth. Now, what to do for Alex's birthday?

Check out this post and join the fun in celebrating the one-year anniversary of our little romcom that could being released!

#rwrbmonth #red white and royal blue #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #rwrb #rwrb movie

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harukimurakitty · 9 months ago

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Take Me Home, Country Roads (3): We're Going To Be Friends

❥ NakedToaster x Reader

September 7th, 2009

If there was one thing you didn't hate about Ottawa, it was undoubtedly Everything Coffee. Everything Coffee, as the name suggested, was a quaint cafe in the heart of the town- a little over a twenty-minute walk from your house. Sable introduced you to the shop after your first day of school when she took you into town to run errands; you knew from the moment you stepped inside it'd be your safe haven from the surrounding Hickville.

The cafe was visibly rundown from the outside, but it held a charm that no other place in Ottawa could hold a candle to. Flickering string lights hung across the front, from one side of the wood paneling to the other, casting a warm glow over the outdoor seating area. The inside was just as cozy, with a lingering scent of hot chocolate and roasted coffee beans welcoming you the second you opened the door. Overall, the cafe had a rustic feeling that inexplicably cured your homesickness.

With your first week in town officially completed, you felt more confident navigating around than ever. You now had a basic understanding of where the main staples in Ottawa were located, such as the laundromat, convenience store, park, and previously mentioned cafe. You had done a great deal of exploring that weekend with your sister, wandering around town and looking at what the place had to offer. Although there wasn't much to see, it left you feeling more prepared for your trek to school that Monday morning.

You woke up not on a firm, uncomfortable couch, but on your mattress that had thankfully arrived Thursday afternoon with your desk. Unfortunately, you had forgotten to pack your bedsheets, so for the time being, you were stuck with only a bare mattress, bedframe, and an old blanket Sable had stashed away in her closet. Still, it was an improvement from sleeping in the living room. You were already starting to settle into your new living arrangement- not that you were particularly thrilled about it, though. So much so that you had even managed to wake up early enough to walk to Everything Coffee before school.

In Colorado, swinging by a cafe or convenience store before school would've been no big deal. Everything in Denver was, at most, a ten-minute walk or bus ride away. Hell, there were two Dutch Bros in your neighborhood alone. If anything, it might've been more of a challenge to not stop by someplace before heading to class. Ottawa, however, didn't have the same luxury of an in-town Dutch Bros- or public transit, for that matter.

Although Everything Coffee didn't align with your usual route to school, it was in the center of town where an actual road, not just a dirt-trodden path, led to Ottawa High. The walk would be twenty minutes longer than taking the trail and not even half as scenic, but you figured the coffee would make up for it. Double-checking your pockets for your keys and wallet, you slung your backpack over one shoulder and announced your departure. Your sister was likely still asleep, but it made you feel a weird sense of loneliness to just leave.

“Sable? I’m heading out!” No response. You sighed and swung the door open.

Aside from the sounds of birds chirping and trees rustling with the morning breeze, the day was surprisingly calm. The sun had just come into view over the horizon, giving everything a bluish tint. The weird lighting looked like something straight out of the first Twilight movie, which made you giggle. The mornings in the South were the complete opposite of the afternoons; rather than feeling the sun beat down on you from high above the clouds, a cool breeze was always seconds away from gently rustling your hair into your face.

The further you walked, the deeper you got lost in thought. You went over all the usual things, like what you wanted to order when you got to the cafe or how much homework Ms. Roberts would assign that day- but it all cycled back to one person in particular... Soren. By the end of the first day, you were almost positive you had made a lasting impression on him. The next day, however, things between you were awkward all over again, and by Wednesday, you two had nothing to talk about.

You could tell Soren was trying to make conversation, but he could hardly stutter out a "How are you?" let alone ask a mildly thought-provoking question. Aside from him, no one else had bothered to talk to you all week. At the rate your friendship (or lack thereof) was going, you'd be lucky if he could look you in the eyes by graduation. College graduation, that was.

After a few more minutes of walking and thinking about your maybe-friend, you arrived at Everything Coffee. The string lights didn't shine as brightly in the morning as they had the afternoon you first visited, but you liked how the cafe looked illuminated by the morning glow. As you entered, a bell attached to the green wooden door chimed. Unsurprisingly, the inside seemed to be bustling with commuters; some were your age, with backpacks strapped over their shoulders, while the rest were adults shuffling in and out on their way to work. Despite the rush, only two other people seemed to be waiting to order.

While you waited, you scanned the chalkboard menu proudly displayed behind the front counter; at least a third was dedicated to listing every flavor known to man, from caramel to Irish cream to mudslide. Another third was listing a myriad of coffee variants, some of which you'd never even heard of. And on the right, crammed in with tiny lettering, was all the food they had to offer. At the top was french toast, sold for two dollars and twenty-five cents.

Just like that, the thought of you and Soren's strained friendship was at the forefront of your mind again. You were what you'd consider to be an ambivert, almost always ready to initiate a conversation and not nearly as awkward as you used to be. So why was it that you couldn't seem to figure Soren out, and why did that bother you so much?

“Hello, what can I get fer ya’ today?” A middle-aged woman behind the cash register asked as the person in front of you stepped aside, done ordering. You jerked your head back to face her, order-less and unprepared.

“Yeah, can I get,” you scanned the menu over again, “a sixteen ounce (drink of choice)? And a muffin to go?” Although you were finished with your order, your eyes still lingered on the chalkboard menu. Something was missing.

“...’Ll that be all for yer’ order?” The cashier asked, writing down your drink on a plastic cup. You paused for a second, not taking your eyes off of the menu.

“Actually, can I get a matcha latte and french toast too?” The lady smiled and nodded, reaching for a second cup. “It’ll be right up. Total’s $11.50.”

You didn’t know what possessed you to order a whole breakfast for a boy you barely knew, but as you walked up a third flight of stairs to your classroom, you knew you regretted it. Not only was balancing two drinks, two bags, and your IPhone 3GS way harder than you initially thought, but you didn’t even know if Soren liked what you had ordered him. Were you that desperate for friends? What if he was allergic to matcha? Or lactose intolerant?

When you reached your class, you awkwardly shuffled the bags and matcha cup in between your elbow and forearm and rattled the door open with your free hand. You got it open just wide enough with your limited range of motion to slip inside, careful not to drop anything. The drinks interrupted the peaceful quiet of the room with a sloshing sound as you made your way to your desk, capturing a couple peoples’ attention. What? Have they never seen a fucking drink before? You thought as you finally sat down.

You glanced over to your seatmate, ready to get rid of the deadweight you’d been carrying since you ordered. Soren had his head down just like every other morning that week, but he sat up when he felt your shift next to him. It took him a moment to rub the sleep out of his eyes and put his glasses on, which you found amusing. You took the time to grab his food and hold it out to him.

“Here.” You presented once Soren turned back to face you. His eyes widened in surprise; whether he meant it in a good or bad way, you couldn’t tell.

“Oh. Oh- uh, thank you.” Soren’s voice cracked as he plucked the food out of your hands. His face flushed when he looked down at you, a small smile on his face. “I, um, how’d you know I like matcha?”

“Totally didn’t.” You barked out a laugh that was a bit louder than necessary. “Er- I just figured you’d like the green color? And I got you french toast, too.” You gestured towards the bag.

“T-Thank you. Really.” He said, opening the brown paper sack. You pulled your muffin out at the same time, and together, you took your first bites.

The flavor was pretty good by plain muffin standards, albeit a bit dry, but it was Soren’s reaction you were most focused on. After biting into the pastry, his eyes lit up and he let out a small groan at the taste. “ Mmf- This is,” he took a second bite, “ so good!” He spoke with his mouth full, which under normal circumstances would’ve completely grossed you out. This time, however, you couldn’t help but laugh and grin.

Soon after you started eating, the minute bell rang and Mr. Neale promptly started class. As he lectured about types of aquatic biomes, you and Soren happily munched down on your breakfasts. You figured if buying him food made him so happy, you’d have to do it again soon. You made a conscious resolve to not look too deep into that urge. After various notes, homework reminders, and powerpoint slides, the second period bell rang and you and Soren walked out together.

“I really don’t think I’ll be paying much attention to Environmental any time soon. I mean it’s one of the easiest AP’s anyway, and besides, when am I gonna need to know trophic levels in the future?” You ranted as you walked down the hallway to AP Lang.

“Mm, are you planning on going into geosciences?” Soren asked.

“Nah, I’m not too keen on collecting dirt samples for the rest of my life.” You shrugged and turned into the classroom. Soren stopped and pointed somewhere behind him.

“I, uh, actually have to pick up some stuff from the office, but I’ll be back soon. I think.” you nodded and walked into class by yourself. You would’ve offered to go with him, but you didn’t think Ms. Roberts would’ve been pleased if you accompanied him without reason.

You took your seat at the back and pulled out your journal, earbuds, and phone. Ms. Roberts had a paragraph projected on the board as a warm up activity at the start of every class; your job was to identify the theme and examine the supporting evidence in the text. Boring, as per usual, but at the very least you were allowed to listen to music.

You put your earbuds in and started working, not bothering to actually play anything on your phone. That day’s paragraph was a brief excerpt on Oscar Wilde and his novel The Picture of Dorian Gray, a book you were vaguely familiar with. You were far from a bookworm, but you enjoyed an occasional fiction book. As you wrote, you could hear the two girls in front of you snickering about one of the lines in the text.

“‘ His homosexual tendencies are reflected in the novel.’ How weird is that?” The girl directly in front of you whispered to the other. Admittedly, you had suppressed a laugh too. You knew you were probably laughing for different reasons, but “homosexual tendencies” wasn’t something you were expecting to read that morning.

“Oh my god, shut up! Someone’s gonna hear you!” Her friend giggled back.

“And? Who cares.” She shrugged

“Probably the guy behind me.”

You shot up defensively at that comment and immediately slouched back down when you realized you had been eavesdropping. Fortunately, both girls were too busy doubling over in laughter to notice your reaction. What the hell did they mean by that? A part of you wanted to say something, wanted to stand up for what might’ve been your only friend in that town, but another part was morbidly curious. Were you already killing your social status? And did social status matter if you were only surrounded by assholes?

“I mean, what normal guy dyes his hair pink? If it’s purple or blue, fine, maybe he’s just one of those emos. But pink has to mean he’s… y’know.” She elaborated, grinning.

“I don’t think his hair is dyed though? We went to elementary school together at Davenport and it was the same exact color it is now.” The girl in front of you said.

“God, was he always creepy or is this like, new for him?”

“Always weird. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he became a serial killer or something one day.”

As if on cue, Soren opened the door to the classroom with a hallway pass in hand. You watched as he turned it in to Ms. Roberts, and looked down before he could turn back to see your staring. From the corner of your eye, you could see the girls give each other a look before moving on to gossip about other things. You felt a pit forming in your stomach as you contemplated your next course of action.

Aside from the mild bigotry in their conversation, you couldn’t help but feel as though their claims had some validity. What if he was weird, like creepy weird, and you just didn’t know it yet? And as shallow as it sounded, you also didn’t want to be a social outcast your senior year by befriending him.

In Denver, you never had to think twice about your status. For the most part, everyone was friendly toward you and vice versa. You didn’t have major issues with anyone, and the worst thing that had happened to you reputation-wise was that one time your sophomore year when you fell down the stairs. Other than that, you were a well-rounded, rule-following, average student. In Ottawa, however, you were nobody.

“H-Hey. Everything alright?” You jumped at the sound of Soren’s voice, somehow too lost in thought to have noticed him sitting down. Your face flushed, partially due to being caught off guard but also out of… embarrassment? You knew it was a bitch move to not want to talk due to his social status, but you couldn’t help but hope the girls in front of you wouldn’t notice you associating with him.

“Yeah. Just working.” And with that, you turned back down to your journal.

You didn’t talk to him again until the bell rang and the girls in front of you left. Although it felt obvious, you hoped he wouldn’t notice your sudden coldness. After gathering your stuff, you bid him a brief goodbye and headed to Pre-Cal.

Guilt continued to eat at you all day, especially during lunch when you sat in silence together on the rooftop. You felt as if he knew what you were doing, like he was interrogating you without ever even having to open his mouth. Soren had been so kind as to show you the rooftop the first day you met, and you repaid the favor by what? Cold-shouldering him? Regardless if it was intentional or not, you were distancing yourself from him just over some stupid rumors. Sure, there was a possibility of him being a creep, but there was also a chance that he was just being bullied. From your experience, Soren had been nothing but nice to you, albeit a bit guarded. For the time being, you figured you’d ignore any uncertainties. After all, who else did you have?

By the time eighth period came around, you were still feeling awkward around him. Luckily, Yearbook was composed mostly of social recluses- people that generally stuck to themselves. You didn’t have to worry as much about being under scrutiny there as you did in your other classes; everyone was quiet, worked hard, and considerate for the most part. You and Soren could talk freely there without being interrupted or ostracized.

“Hey, man.” You greeted, giving Soren a nervous smile when he sat down in the seat adjacent to yours.

“Hey. Um, how was… History? That is your last period, right? ” He trailed off, with the last part of his sentence more targeted to himself than it was to you.

“Yeah, history. It was alright.” You nodded.

“Anything… new?”

“It’s been, like, two hours since we last talked so no, not really. I am mega-psyched for Muse’s new album, though. You?”

“Uh, not exactly. Kinda why I asked you first.” He said with a small smile.

“Right.” You grimaced. Turning back to your work, pieces of scrapbook paper and pictures from school events were littered across your desk. Truth be told, you only took Yearbook for an easy A. You didn’t expect to actually have to do work. Just as you were starting to get into the flow of sorting the soccer team’s page, Soren abruptly turned to face you.

“Y-You mentioned Muse earlier.”

“Yeah?” “Well, what other stuff do you like?” Immediately, what felt like a million bands came to mind. They varied in genre and pretentiousness, from Brittany Spears to The New Pornographers, but you thought about which ones Soren would like the most. If he knew Muse, you could probably find some common ground.

“Mm, right now I’ve been super into The Strokes, Jeff Buckley, and,” you tried to gauge his reaction, “...Weezer?” Weezer was a safe choice. You didn’t know a single white guy your age that didn’t know them. Something about Cuomo’s straightforward lyricism must’ve seriously resonated with teen boys everywhere.

“Oh, I haven’t listened to Jeff Buckley before. Is he any good?” You did a fistpump inside your head. Got another one.

“Not only is he good, he is the best damn musician to come out of the whole, wide Western Seaboard.” You thought for a second. “Aside from, like, maybe 2Pac if you count Oakland.” Soren nodded, a small smile on his face.

You continued talking to Soren about Buckley’s discography before moving on to other musicians. If he was tired of your ranting, he didn’t show it. Every time you looked away from your work, Soren was listening intently and nodding along to every word. If you didn’t feel like an asshole for ignoring him before, you definitely did then. By the time the final bell rang, you were still deep in the midst of your conversation with him. Although you had been doing most, if not all of the talking, it was far from one-sided.

“-Which is why Phil Spector had the power to be such an asshole in the first place. He literally dominated the music industry!” You ranted as you walked next to him down the front entrance of the school. You knew your discussion (or diatribe, to be more accurate) had to come to an end soon, but a part of you wanted to keep talking to Soren. You felt like you had made a breakthrough in terms of your friendship that day. As you walked out of the school’s bustling front doors, an idea came to mind.

“Hey, do you walk home?” You asked, completely out of the blue. Normally, you two would split up and go your separate ways after eighth period. You had no clue what he did after that.

“Yeah, w-why?”

“Wanna walk together? I mean cause. Y’know. We already walk together in school and-”

“ Yes ! Er- yeah, I’d like that.” Soren’s face reddened at his outburst, seemingly startling himself with how eager he was to agree.

“Rad. So, what direction do you take?”

“Uh, I usually walk past this one dirt trail behind the school,” you froze, “but we could take the main road if that’s more comfortable.” You walked next to him wordlessly. What were the chances of there being a second trail that you didn’t know about? “(Y/N)? I mean we could walk to your house instead if-” Soren sputtered, backtracking.

“No! No, it’s not that. Uh, how many paths are there behind the school, exactly?”

“...One?”

A beat passed.

“I think we live in the same neighborhood?” You said, looking up at him. “How the hell haven’t I seen you around before? That trail ain’t exactly big or anything.”

“You live on Pike Street?” Soren asked, astounded. You hesitated at the question.

“I don’t know my address.” You confessed. He gave you an unimpressed look. “I moved here like a week ago! What do you expect?” You threw your hands up, exasperated.

“Ok ok, sorry!” Soren laughed. “So, trail it is?” You nodded.

You walked and talked until you reached the start of the trail, when you remembered the moral dilemma from second period. With all your talk about bands and neighborhoods, you had almost forgotten about nearly ghosting him that morning. As much as you wanted to clear things up directly, you didn’t want to risk putting him on the spot, either.

“So...” You started.

“So.” He parroted.

“Not to be presumptuous or anything but, um, I noticed you don’t talk a lot to other people. Why is that?” You looked up at him, trying your best to maintain a low key expression. Soren glanced in the opposite direction, nervously.

“Right. That.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to! I was just curious, that's all.” You waved your hands in front of you, panicked.

“No it’s fine, really. I just never got along with others, I guess. I mean, no one ever made an attempt to branch out, but neither did I. I’ve just always been alone, more or less.” Soren took a couple seconds, his eyebrows pinching together as he contemplated what to say next. “Which sounds… a lot angstier than I meant it to be.”

“Well, I think you’re pretty cool. And I also think if you reached out, other people would see that too.” You smiled. Soren gave you a hesitant stare in response; not a mean one, but it was obvious he didn’t agree.

“T-Thanks, but in Ottawa? No one here is worth reaching out to, quite frankly.” He paused. “Uh, aside from… you, of course.” You couldn’t help but grin.

“Word.”

“Pfft. Yeah. Word. But, uh, how does it feel moving your senior year? That must suck.” Soren looked down at you expectantly. Oh great, your turn to be vulnerable.

“It’s the absolute, fucking worst . I had a whole life in Denver! Friends! Family! A 4.0 GPA! And now I’m in the middle of nowhere with nothing but my sister and iPhone- which gets no service, by the way- and I just,” you took a deep breath, “I just wanna go home.” You sighed. Soren frowned sympathetically.

“I’ve basically lived in Ottawa all my life. I used to go to this private school nearby, Davenport, but I transferred hoping to find friends or just someone to talk to. Um, it didn't go too great.”

“Was Davenport any better?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. By this point in the trail, the trees were starting to clear. You were familiar enough with the path to know it meant you were almost home.

“ God, no. I’d say they're equally terrible, but at least it’s easier to blend in at Ottawa. I… got a lot of negative attention at Davenport because our class sizes were so small. There were only some, what, fifty people in my grade?” Soren shook his head.

“Is everyone in Texas an asshole or what? Who would pick on you, man?” You questioned. It was hard for you to wrap your head around Soren being bullied. Aside from his shyness, he was really, really cool.

“Privileged, bigoted guys with nothing to do.” He responded, deadpan. Bigoted. You noted his use of that word in particular.

“Yeah… I knew a couple of people like that in Denver, but everyone there is mostly,” you pondered your choice of words, “accepting, from my experience.” Your eyes locked with Soren. Something about his gaze made it clear that you understood each other, even if it remained unsaid.

A couple seconds later, the two of you stepped out into your neighborhood. Now, you felt, was a good time to end the conversation.

“Um, that’s my house over there,” you pointed to the building a couple yards away, “but I had a really fun time walking together. Do it again tomorrow?”

“Y-yeah, of course.” Soren gave you a warm smile. You started towards your street before turning to face him.

“Godspeed.” You saluted.

You turned back around to see your house, hearing him laugh to himself as you walked away. Yeah, you definitely understood each other.

#blooming panic #blooming panic x reader #blooming panic nakedtoaster #nakedtoaster #nakedtoaster x reader #nakedtoaster bp

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alanaplucked · 8 months ago

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Sonata

part three

part four| masterlist

Matty assumed he had been staring at the ceiling for at least an hour. The silence was beginning to irritate him, a vast comparison to the scenery he was used to.

His mind was stuck on a loop, looking in on one specific emotion; one he tried so hard to overlook. To which he could not deal with anymore.

He soon found himself slinging a sweatshirt over himself and padding down the creaky staircase towards the outdoor studio. Unaware of the faint incandescent light radiating from the upper window.

Love found herself cross legged on the floor with an acoustic in grip. Eyes scanning the various books and papers around her, occasionally bending down to scribble something new down.

Her mind worked wonders in the late hours yet nights like these drained her emotionally, despite the great song material she got. Back facing the door as she intently mustered up potential lyrics in her head.

Her fingers tenderly picked the strings as lyrics just above a whisper fell from her mouth. She knew the song being conjured up wouldn't be heard to anybody but her, it was too impassioned. It could only act cathartically.

Yet the frame leaning against the door said otherwise. His stare acted unnoticed. It was pure and he found himself dazed at the young girl.

A sight so raw and unintentional, a sense of intruding struck over him as the room fell silent following the last strum. He knew he wasn't able to leave without her turning and noticing him followed by an awkward next encounter.

"That was so alluring - sorry I didn't know you would be in here I didn't wanna interrupt" He had added on once she spun around. A small sense of shock on her face.

"Oh god no don't be sorry. I'm the one who's not actually meant to be in here" Love’s cheeks had flushed, she wasn't usually nervous but considering Matty had walked in on such a vulnerable moment. "Let me just grab my stuff, I'll be out of your-"

"No no don't, I mean I don't think I would be able to deal with the silence. That's why I came in here" Matty hadn't recalled deciding to be so honest, though it came naturally.

"yeah it can get like that" Love spoke slowly lowering herself back into her original position. A low silence fell between them. A warm glow saturated the room, lamps were littered upon the studio. She found it comforting and supposed her father had too.

"I couldn't imagine living here" His body was now slouched against the leather couch only a couple metres away from herself. Sincerity radiated from him as his head dropped back against the brown leather. "I need the city noise"

"I try not to most of the time; live here that is" It was true though she hated to admit it. Yet she had imagined Matty had noticed she wasn't here the entire two months they had been recording.

"Do you not then feel like you're taking it for granted" Despite the nature of the question it didn't come across rude or prodding. Now meeting her gaze he could tell she was slightly uncomfortable.

Love was slightly confused, this wasn't the Matty Healy she had googled only a couple hours ago. Leaving the studio that morning led her to be curious of the new face. "yes and no. I feel like it's a small dose kind of thing. you can appreciate it only when it's necessary, plus i've spent my whole life here"

An uncomfortable silence was now lingering, well maybe that feeling was one sided because Love was at peace picking the strings of her guitar, despite her feeling his stare follow her every move.

"I listened to your album, you know, it was very impressive. I mean when I was seventeen I was writing about sex and girls with boyfriends" He was the first to break the silence and a small smirk rose upon her face though she was weary of whether he could see it or not.

"Is that surprising that I liked it?" He had noticed.

Straightening her face and turning to face him "at first, but I don't know any musician that is only subject to their own genre" Her statement was followed by a low hum on his end.

"So what kind of music do you like?" Matty couldn't help but prod.

"Anything really" Love’s fingers were still picking and Matty wondered if it would lull him to sleep.

"Anything?" His voice echoed her own and she had to stop herself from looking up at him. Keeping an overly disinterested act as though she were far too busy for such a conversation.

"Yeah I guess-" It was true. Love’s father had produced a variety of different genres and his record collection was just about diverse as New York City.

"What so like metal to classical" Matty couldn't imagine this girl listening to anything different to her innocent guitar picking. It was silly of him to imagine that the daughter of one of the best producers in the world only listened to the top 40.

Love was confused to say the least but a small smirk picked up her lips and she scribbled down another lyric. surprised she would still be able to work while holding such a conversation. It helped she couldn't look him in the eye though she was starting to realise he's not as intimidating as he seemed hours ago.

"those are very basic genres, the average normy would listen to those without thought. plus, you can't say you like music if you disregard 99.9% of it"

"the average normy?, what are you implying we are?" Love realised she hadn't heard him laugh and she wished nothing more than to play it on repeat. If she could make him laugh like that again she thought she would be content forever.

"well obviously geniuses, or deities at least"

"ok, so let me get this right you listen to everything offered under the sun except my music" He had simply assumed. And by the look on her face as she got up to swap guitars- he was right, she had no clue as to who he was until she was caught in the studio.

"I actually listened to your album-" Love turned herself around to sit back in her spot that was now occupied by Matty, eyes scanning her lyrics.

"I'm sure you did" His head rose with a smirk; that was until her saw her frozen in the middle of the room, eyes burning on his finger trailing the fourth line of her page.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have-"

"yeah you shouldn't have" Love got herself to finally move and pick her journal up when he cowered back.

He sat back in shock at her current change in demeanour and said something he probably shouldn't have. "how'd you make an album if you can't handle someone reading your lyrics"

She felt the gentle tug at the tears gathering in her eyes as she moved to tidy the chaos she had wrought in the studio.

"that wasn't for an album, it wasn't for you, not for anyone" it came out gentle, Matty hated how beautiful he thought she sounded.

"it should be"

"excuse me?"

"that's better than anything you've got out there, truthfully. Are you making another album?" Frankly Matty had been feigning for more after listening to her album all those months ago. She hadn't gone on a tour, done any shows, press, there were no unreleased leaks, no covers on social media; she hadn't even had an account on anything. The most he had found was an old youtube video her father had posted of her singing 'both sides now' when she was twelve.

"not for a long long time" She had calmed herself. She thought as though Matty would 5150 her after reading what she had wrote.

"like Fiona Apple?" He had lit a cigarette now and reclined into the base of the couch, she had been leaning her hands back into the desk.

"Sure, she's great"

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