#how do I send him flowers to show my gratitude

[last-blue-hours]

This part in rebirth sounds even more uplifting with a live band.

[darkficlord69]

Fire & Ice

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Jacaerys Velaryon

Warning: tastefully depicted smut (18+)

Word Count: 2k

Summary: When fire meets ice, the very walls of Winterfell seem to tremble. But is the wolf a worthy match for the dragon?

Jacaerys Velaryon sat beneath the sprawling canopy of the godswood, a single white flower caught between his slender fingers. He plucked its petals one by one, watching them drift down to the withered grass like fallen snow. A sigh escaped his lips, soft as the summer breeze, and his fingers, adorned with silver rings fashioned in the shape of dragons' scaly tails, stilled when a bee landed upon his pink nipple. He dared not move, resembling a statue of marble, all sharp curves and delicate lines, carved by a true master’s hand. He held his breath until the bee took flight, then allowed a small smile to break across his face as he prepared to rise.

But then, a shadow fell over him, long and imposing, blotting out the sun. Jacaerys looked up, squinting against the sudden darkness.

"Good day, my prince," came a husky voice, roughened by the chill of the North.

"You too, Cregan," Jacaerys replied mildly, his voice barely more than a whisper, as though he feared to break the stillness of the godswood.

"The lords of the war council request your presence in the solar," Cregan Stark said. "I had hoped you would care to join us."

Jacaerys let his gaze wander over Stark’s solid frame, taking in the man’s sturdy build. Those legs, long and strong beneath plain woolen breeches; that broad heavy chest hidden beneath layers of soft furs and leather; his hair, brown as autumn leaves, and his hard eyes, grey as winter’s ice—eyes that could thaw even the heart of a dragonlord.

He was lost in girlish thoughts, caught up in the rugged beauty of the Stark, when a soft throaty cough brought him back to himself. Cregan extended a gloved hand.

"Of course, my lord," Jacaerys said, taking the offered hand and letting Cregan pull him to his feet. "Anything you need."

***

The great hall of Winterfell rang with voices of discontent. Lord Umber’s booming shout rose above the rest, his face as red as his hair. “Straining our armies will only increase the risk of wildling attacks!” The room responded with a chorus of grunts and murmurs of approval. “Southron skirmishes are no concern of ours, I say!”

Lord Manderly, heavyset and lounging in his chair, responded in a bored drawl. “The South is as much a part of the Seven Kingdoms as the North. Sooner or later, one king or queen will force us to choose a side.”

“The Iron Throne will not look kindly upon our allegiance to Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Lord Hornwood intoned. Cregan Stark, seated at the head of the long oak table, had listened to enough prattle to make his head throb in annoyance. With a resounding thud, he slammed his large hands on the oak table, sending goblets rattling and silencing his bannermen. A sombre heaviness fell over the room, thick as the northern snows. The Warden of the North took a breath, his grey eyes hard and unyielding.

“We pledged our support to King Viserys’s heir long ago,” he said, his voice stern. “Never has a Stark broken his word, and I do not intend to be the first. Remember where your loyalties lie, my lords.”

With those words, dark and final as the grave, Cregan rose from the table, his wolfskin cloak trailing behind him like a shadow. Jacaerys Velaryon followed, a small, satisfied smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Once they were alone in the dim corridor of the Great Keep, Jacaerys’s mask of composure slipped, revealing the warmth beneath. “Cregan,” he said softly, his voice filled with genuine gratitude, “thank you.” The support of the North meant that his mother would be one step closer to claiming her birthright.

Cregan gave a curt nod, intent on heading to his chambers. But before he could take another step, he felt a firm yet gentle push, his back pressing against the cold stone of a column.

“Now let me show you how a dragon expresses his gratitude,” the prince murmured, a teasing grin curling his full, pouty lips. The words hung in the cold, still air, filled with a heat that made Cregan's blood pulse faster. Jacaerys moved with a lithe grace, every step a promise, every movement a dance of seduction.

Slowly, Jacaerys knelt before the Stark lord, his hands gliding up Cregan’s strong thighs. His touch was featherlight, just a whisper of fingers trailing over thick wool and leather, but it was enough to make Cregan’s breath catch in his throat. The prince’s eyes were dark, glimmering with mischief and desire, his expression one of pure intent as he let his fingers dance along the inside of Cregan's legs, feeling the muscles tense under his touch.

Cregan’s heart pounded in his chest, a heavy, insistent rhythm that matched the stirring in his loins. His hands flexed at his sides, fingers curling into fists as he fought the urge to pull Jacaerys up, to crush their mouths together in a desperate kiss. But he held back, held still, mesmerized by the sight of the prince at his knees, those nimble hands tracing patterns on his skin.

Jacaerys’s fingers found the edge of Cregan’s tunic, slipping beneath it, brushing against warm hair-covered flesh. The touch sent a shiver up Cregan’s spine, his breath hissing out between his teeth. Jacaerys looked up at him, his eyes half-lidded, his lips parted slightly, his breath warm against Cregan’s thigh.

The prince leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of Cregan’s leg, just above the knee. Cregan’s muscles tensed beneath the tender touch, his fingers twitching with the need to reach out, to bury them in the dark waves of Jacaerys’s hair. He watched, entranced, as Jacaerys continued his slow, torturous journey, his lips brushing lightly up the inside of Cregan’s thigh, each kiss a spark, each touch a flame.

The wolf stirred within Cregan, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he felt the heat of Jacaerys’s mouth moving higher. His desire, coiled tight like a spring, grew with every brush of those lips, every teasing touch. He felt himself harden, the ache of want becoming almost unbearable.

Jacaerys’s smirk widened as he felt the evidence of Cregan’s arousal beneath his hands. He looked up again, his eyes meeting Cregan’s, holding his gaze as he pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin just below Cregan’s hip. Cregan’s breath came out in a harsh exhale, his control slipping, his need overtaking him.

With a growl, Cregan reached down, his hands tangling in Jacaerys’s hair, pulling the prince up with a rough urgency. Their lips crashed together, the kiss fierce and desperate, teeth clashing, tongues tangling in a frantic dance. It was a kiss that spoke of hunger, of a desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long, finally unleashed.

Jacaerys responded with equal fervor, his hands gripping Cregan’s shoulders, pulling him closer, their bodies pressing together, fitting like pieces of a puzzle. The prince’s lips were soft but insistent, demanding and giving all at once. Cregan could taste the heat of him, could feel the fire that burned beneath his skin, and he met it with his own cold fury, his own wild, untamed desire.

Their mouths moved together, each kiss deeper, more intense than the last, as if they were trying to consume each other, to fuse together through sheer will. Cregan’s hands moved down, grasping Jacaerys’s waist, pulling him closer still, until there was no space between them, until they were one, bound together by the force of their need.

His lips left Cregan’s mouth, trailing down his jaw, his neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the column of his throat. Cregan tipped his head back, a groan rumbling in his chest as Jacaerys found a sensitive spot, sucking gently, teeth grazing over skin.

The prince’s hands moved lower, finding hard planes of muscle, scars that marked his furry skin. He traced them with his fingertips, memorizing the shape of them, the feel of them, each one a testament to the man before him, to the strength and the honor that he embodied.

Cregan’s hands moved to Jacaerys’s waist, fingers digging into the prince’s hips as he pulled him impossibly closer, grinding against him, feeling the heat of his arousal through the layers of fabric. Jacaerys gasped, his head falling back, his eyes fluttering closed as pleasure coursed through him, his body arching into Cregan’s touch.

They moved together, lips meeting again in a fierce kiss, hands exploring, claiming, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. The wolf and the dragon, fire and ice, together in the dark, bound by a passion that neither could deny. And in that moment, they were lost to the world, to the weight of their titles and the burdens of their duties, lost to everything but each other.Jacaerys gasped, his fingers tangling in Cregan’s thick, dark hair as he pressed ever closer, his body melting against the northerner’s like ice before a flame. Cregan’s lips moved to Jacaerys’s neck, finding the pulse there and biting down just hard enough to make the prince hiss in pleasure.

“More,” Jacaerys demanded, his voice breathless, his eyes half-lidded with desire. “Show me how fierce the wolf can be.”

Cregan needed no further invitation. He lifted Jacaerys effortlessly, the prince’s legs wrapping around his waist as it was Cregan’s turn to press him against the wall. The cold stone was a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies, but neither of them noticed. Their world had narrowed to this moment, to the taste of each other’s mouths and the feel of their skin.

They were fire and ice, light and shadow, opposites drawn together by a force neither of them could fully understand but neither wanted to fight. Here, in the shadows of the keep, they were free of the burdens of their titles and the weight of their responsibilities. Here, they were just two dandy men, lost in the madness of each other.

Cregan’s hands found the laces of Jacaerys’s lacy smallclothes and pulled, the fabric sliding down the prince’s hips and pooling at his feet. Jacaerys shivered at the sensation, his hands gripping Cregan’s shoulders as the northern lord knelt before him.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Cregan looked up, his eyes meeting Jacaerys’s, asking a question without words. Jacaerys nodded, a silent answer, a trust given and accepted.

“Stay still now, woman,” Stark commanded and Jace whimpered at the order.

Then, Cregan’s lips were on him, hot and wet and hungry, and Jacaerys gasped, his head falling back against the stone. The world narrowed to that single point of contact, to the heat of Cregan’s mouth and the rough scrape of his beard against sensitive skin.

Jacaerys’s breath came in ragged gasps, his hands fisting in Cregan’s hair as pleasure coursed through him, building and building until he thought he might shatter from it. And then, with a cry that echoed off the walls of Winterfell, he did, his body tensing, his back arching, and then collapsing against the stone, boneless and sated.

Cregan rose, his lips curved in a small, satisfied smile as he pulled Jace into his arms, holding him close as the prince caught his breath. They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other, the only sound their breathing, the only warmth the heat of their bodies.

Finally, Jacaerys pulled back, his eyes bright, a lazy smile playing at his lips. “Well, Lord Stark,” he murmured, “I must say, your loyalty has its rewards.”

Cregan chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a thrill through Jacaerys’s already sated body. “And you, Prince Jacaerys, are a demanding wench.”

Jacaerys leaned in, his lips brushing against Cregan’s ear as he whispered, “Only because I know you can handle me, oh Wolf of Winterfell.”

Cregan’s grin widened, his eyes darkening with promise. “Then you’ll have to show me again, you feisty dragonling,” he said, his voice a low growl.

Jacaerys laughed, a bright, clear sound that filled the corridor. “Oh, I intend to, Cregan Stark. Many times over.”

And with that, they slipped away into the shadows, leaving only the faint echo of their laughter and the lingering warmth of their passion behind them.

End.

Hi! Hope you liked it 🥰 Any form of feedback is greatly appreciated! 🫶

[writingforstraykids]

Always back to you - Chp.3🖤

Pairing: Minho x m!Reader (mention of OT8)

Word Count: 4332

Summary: Minho and you slowly find your way back together once he's released from the hospital. Minjun's birthday party brings you both closer than ever before ...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, single dad!min, angst, domestic shit

A/N: Thank you for all the love for the first part especially🤭 I'll have a very busy day tomorrow, so you'll get the next part today already instead🤭🖤

PART TWO | PART FOUR

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

You immediately take up the responsibility of caring for Minjun, ensuring that Minho has no worries as he recovers. You bring Minjun to your home and transform it into a safe haven for the little boy who is confused and missing his dad.

You set up a schedule that balances fun activities and quiet time, keeping Minjun engaged and content. Mornings are spent in the garden, where you teach him how to plant seeds and water flowers, explaining the nature of growth and the care plants need to thrive—a subtle lesson you hope he translates into understanding his father’s situation.

Minjun enthusiastically takes to gardening, his curious nature soaking up every detail you offer. He frequently asks questions, his large eyes wide with wonder as he watches little bugs crawling around and you tell him more about them. “Does Daddy need water and sun to get better, too?” he asks one day, his innocence tugging at your heartstrings.

You chuckle softly, ruffling his hair. “Something like that, buddy. Your dad needs rest and a little bit of sunshine to regain his strength.”

During these days, Minjun often speaks of his father, his young mind trying to wrap around why his dad had to stay in the hospital. You assure him that his dad is getting stronger every day, and soon, they’ll be back to playing in the park and reading bedtime stories.

In the afternoons, you work on light educational activities like drawing and reading. Minjun loves to draw; his papers are filled with pictures of his garden and the plants and lots of drawings of him and his dad together, often with a big sun shining overhead. You send these drawings to Minho, who calls every evening to say goodnight, his voice always a mix of gratitude and wistfulness.

Each call becomes a little bridge, reconnecting the threads of the small family. Minho’s voice grows stronger each day, and his words begin to carry hope instead of just fatigue. He shares updates about his recovery, about the small victories of a full night’s sleep or a walk around the hospital ward without feeling dizzy.

One evening, as you and Minjun are setting up a board game in the living room, your phone buzzes. It’s Minho, and he’s calling a bit earlier than usual.

“Y/n, hey. I… I’m coming home tomorrow,” Minho’s voice is tentative, almost shy.

“That’s great news, Minho! Minjun will be so happy,” you respond, watching Minjun’s face light up at the mention of his dad.

“Can we… can I come over when I get back? I want to see Minjun, and I… I owe you a proper thank you,” Minho adds, his tone earnest.

“That's okay,” you assure him, feeling a complex knot of emotions at his return but happy for Minjun’s sake.

The next day is bright and sunny, and Minjun is practically vibrating with excitement. “Is Daddy coming now? Or now?” he asks every few minutes, peering out the window.

“Soon, little bug. Let’s go to the garden. We can show him how much everything has grown since he’s been gone,” you suggest, leading him outside.

You're both kneeling in the garden, Minjun excitedly pointing out each new sprout and blossom, when you hear the gate click. Looking up, you see Minho, thinner and a bit pale but smiling as he watches his son.

“Daddy!” Minjun screams, sprinting towards him with a speed that surprises both of you. Minho drops to his knees just in time to catch him, embracing him tightly. His eyes close as he buries his face in Minjun’s soft curls. 

“I missed you so much, buddy,” Minho murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

“Missed you more,” Minjun replies, his small hands cupping his face as he kisses his nose. 

You walk over slowly, giving them a moment, before Minho looks up at you, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Y/nnie, thank you,” he says, standing up to face you. “It means a lot.”

“There’s no need to thank me, Minho. I’m just glad you’re okay,” you reply, your voice gentle.

“No, I need to say this,” Minho insists, taking a deep breath. “I was wrong, and I’m sorry for how I treated you. You’ve been nothing but kind, and I took that for granted. I hope I can make it up to both of you somehow.”

“One step after the other. For now, you should rest; we can talk properly later,” you suggest, offering a smile that Minho returns gratefully.

Minho reaches into his pocket, and you can hear him pulling out his keys. He stretches out his hand almost timidly, offering you your spare keys to his home. “You're always welcome. If not for me, then for him, please. I don't want him to suffer just because I fucked up.”

You hesitantly take them, able to tell he's trying to fix things. “I…I'll think about it. I need time, Min.”

“That's okay,” he assures you. “Your replacement is shit, by the way,” he says with a weak grin. 

You chuckle softly. “No, that's you being used to someone handling things for you more than for the others,” you remind him. You inhale deeply and awkwardly rub your neck. “I'll also think about that, okay?” 

“Okay,” he nods, unable to hide the hope in his orbs at the mere chance of you coming back. “I'm sorry.”

“I know,” you assure him. “Me too…Now, go rest, please. Call if you need something.”

“Bye, Y/nnie,” Minjun says, hugging you tightly as you get down on his level. “Love you.”

You swallow softly, a similar surprise lacing both Minho's and your features. “I love you too, buddy,” you answer honestly and squeeze him gently. “Now go home with your daddy, yeah?”

-

The quiet of the morning was filled only by the faint sounds of the city waking up beyond the walls of the small, cozy room where Minho found himself slowly coming to consciousness. As his senses sharpened, the first thing he became aware of was the warm, small body pressed against his side. Gently turning his head, he sees Minjun, his little baby, sleeping peacefully next to him, his chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of deep sleep. The sight fills Minho with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love.

Carefully so as not to wake him, Minho wraps his arms around Minjun, pulling him close. The boy, still deep in his dreams, instinctively snuggles closer into his father's embrace. Even in sleep, Minjun seems to sense his father's need for closeness and comforts him with his mere presence.

Minho’s eyes trace the soft, youthful features of his son's face, noting the faint freckles that dust his nose and the gentle curl of his lips. Memories flood through Minho’s mind—the first time he held Minjun, the first steps he took, the first words he spoke.

Recovering from his incident, Minho was forced to confront his own vulnerabilities and the stark realization of how much he relied on the presence of his son. These mornings, waking up next to Minjun, were sacred. They were not just moments of physical rest but crucial for his emotional recovery as well. 

Minjun shifts in his sleep, a small sigh escaping him. His small hand grips Minho's shirt tightly as if, even in his dreams, he is determined to hold on. Minho’s heart aches with an overwhelming mix of joy and sorrow—joy for his son's presence and health and sorrow for the times he hadn’t been there as fully as he wanted.

“Daddy loves you, Minjun,” Minho whispers into his son's dark curls, his voice barely audible. A tear escapes the corner of his eye as he tightens his embrace, grateful beyond words for his return to health and the second chance it represented.

The sun begins to cast its first rays into the room, streaks of light that paint the walls with the colors of dawn. The light seems to coax the city to life gently, and as it does, it also seems to awaken Minjun. The little boy yawns and blinks open his eyes, surprised for a moment to find himself so close to his father.

“Daddy?” Minjun’s voice is sleepy and confused but also filled with an affection that comes from deep within.

“Good morning, buddy,” Minho says, his voice still thick with emotion. “Did you sleep well?”

Minjun nods, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands. “Yes.”

Minho smiles. “That sounds good. Maybe we can go to the park later?”

“Yeah!” Minjun’s face lights up with excitement. “And I can be a hero!”

Minho laughs, the sound rich and full of genuine happiness. “Of course, my little superhero. But first, how about we make some pancakes for breakfast?”

Minjun’s agreement is instantaneous and enthusiastic. As they get up and make their way to the kitchen, Minho keeps his son close, his hand resting lightly on Minjun’s shoulder. Making breakfast together was a simple activity, yet it held so much meaning for Minho, just being home again. 

As Minho watches Minjun clumsily crack eggs and stir batter, he is filled with gratitude for his young son's resilience. He had managed to stay strong and loving throughout the difficulties they had faced.

“Daddy?” Minjun looks up at him, a slight frown on his face. “Are you okay? You look sad.”

Minho is taken aback, realizing that his emotional reflections must have shown on his face. He kneels down, bringing himself to eye level with Minjun, and smiles.

“I’m more than okay; I’m happy,” he assures his son, his hand gently cupping the boy’s cheek. “I’m just very thankful for you, Minjun. You’re my little hero, did you know that?”

Minjun giggles, the sound like music to Minho’s ears. “I’m your hero?”

“Yes, you are,” Minho assures him, hugging him tightly. “My biggest hero.”

Minjun hugs him back, his small arms strong and sure. “It’s okay, Daddy. I take care of you.”

The words, so earnest and sincere from such a young soul, fill Minho with an even deeper appreciation for his son and his eyes with tears. He realizes that while he was often the one taking care of Minjun, his son was also taking care of him in many ways, providing love, motivation, and a reason to recover fully and well.

One week later 

For Minjun's birthday, Minho decided on a cozy movie night—a welcome change from the usual buzz of birthday parties and perfectly suited for their small circle. The boys all love a good movie night, find children's movies hilarious, and, most importantly, they all love Minjun like their own. 

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a soft glow through the windows, they arrive one by one.

Chan and Felix arrive last with a special surprise for the birthday boy. “Jiho, mate, we brought someone with us,” Felix leans down to him conspiratorially. 

“Who?” he asks curiously, eyes growing wide. Chan steps aside and gently pulls you out of hiding. Minjun squeaks in delight, looking up at Minho excitedly. “Daddy, it's Y/nnie!” he says, jumping in place impatiently. 

Minho giggles and gently brushes back his curls. “Well, go say hi, dumpling.”

Minjun doesn't need a second invitation to fall into your arms. “Hey, little bug,” you say quietly. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” he beams happily before moving on to greet the next guest. “Uncle Channie, up!” he says, reaching out for him. 

Chan smirks, lifts him up and throws him into the air above his head a little, catching him safely again. Minho flinches heavily, reaching for Minjun in shock. Felix laughs at him, gently patting his back. “Channie, babe, don't give him a heart attack.” 

Chan laughs, putting a giggling Minjun back on his feet. “Sorry, Min,” he chuckles, and Minho snorts. 

“Alright, come on in, you know the way,” Minho laughs.

The living room was transformed into a fortress of comfort. Pillows and blankets were strewn across the floor, creating a plush sea of soft fabrics that invited everyone to kick off their shoes and sink in. The air was rich with the aroma of popcorn and sweet treats that lined the table alongside a stack of Minjun’s favorite animated movies.

Minho watches as Felix and Jeongin set up the projector, their antics punctuated by light-hearted banter that fills the room with laughter. Hyunjin and Seungmin are tasked with stringing fairy lights around the room, adding a magical ambiance that makes the space feel like a small cinema hall. Jisung and Changbin, meanwhile, busy themselves in the kitchen, popping more popcorn and arranging a variety of snacks on platters. Minho watches his family with a smile, each member contributing to the evening’s success, weaving their love for Minjun into every detail.

The movie starts, the lights dimmed to mimic a theater, and the first frames flicker across the makeshift screen. Minjun sits between Minho and you, a perfect sandwich of his favorite people, his face lit by the soft glow of the projector as he watches with wide-eyed wonder.

Throughout the evening, the adults' eyes often meet over Minjun's head, shared smiles of affection and slight amusement at his captivated reactions to the on-screen adventures. During a particularly exciting scene, Minjun would sometimes stand, pointing at the screen and explaining to you loudly the many details of the plot as he understood them.

"The hero's gonna save everyone. He's strong like daddy!" Minjun's voice is full of pride and excitement, making everyone chuckle, especially Minho, whose heart swells with love and a bit of awe at his son's interpretation.

The room is filled with the sounds of the movie, mixed with Minjun's occasional commentary and the boys' gentle laughs.

Halfway through the second movie, Minjun’s eyelids begin to droop, and he leans more heavily against you, his small hand gripping yours as he fights the pull of sleep. You look down at him, a soft smile playing on your lips, touched by the trust and affection Minjun shows you.

Minho notices this gentle exchange, and his heart is filled with gratitude for your presence in Minjun’s life, especially during the times when he couldn’t be there himself. He makes a mental note to himself to ensure you know how much your support meant to him, perhaps later when the movies are done and the excitement of the day has settled into the quiet of the night.

As the evening winds down and the credits roll on the last movie, Minho gently nudges Minjun awake to blow out the candles on his small birthday cake. With a sleepy grin, Minjun makes a wish and blows with all his might, the room erupting into applause.

"Happy birthday, Minjun!" everyone cheers, making him giggle happily and hide in Minho’s arms shyly. 

Minho soothingly kisses his hair and cuddles him close. Your heart warms seeing them, and glancing around the room, you can tell how much Minho and his little boy mean to everyone. Minho looks almost as tired as Minjun, but both are beaming with happiness. The boys fall back into their usual chatter, and you more or less subtly watch Minho next to you with Minjun still in his arms. They're having a quiet conversation, Minjun resting his head against Minho's and holding onto his hands. You feel the old, familiar warmth spreading through you as you watch them. Getting into that fight with Minho had made you feel awful. You missed your time with Minjun and you realized how used you've grown to Minho's presence in your life. 

Minho's eyes find yours, and your breath hitches at the softness of his orbs. “Minjun's asking if you could read him a bedtime story?”

“Oh, of course,” you nod. 

“The bedroom’s upstairs, second door on the left. You can get comfortable there; he loves cuddling in bed before,” he assures you kindly and watches you leave with Minjun. 

Chan nudges him gently. “You two are alright again?”

“We're working on it,” he tells him, and Chan hums agreeingly. 

“We should wrap it up,” Chan chuckles, and Minho hums agreeingly. 

“Yongbokie and you can have the guestroom upstairs. You'd get home way too late,” he tells him. Chan and Felix live the furthest away, after all. “Jisung and Hyunjin can have the sofa,” he laughs, seeing them already deep asleep there. 

Seungmin, listening in, pouts softly. “I'm tired, I don't want to leave.”

Minho glances at him and Innie, resting their heads on Changbin’s shoulders. “I can only offer you to sleep here with all the pillows and stuff.”

“Sounds great,” Jeongin mumbles drowsily. 

“Mhm, then that's settled,” Chan chuckles, soothingly rubbing Felix's shoulder as the younger one slowly grows heavy against him. “Should we clean up tomorrow then?” 

“Yeah, I'll do it once everyone's gone,” Minho laughs. 

“Lix and I can help,” he assures him, earning a thankful smile. 

About ten minutes later, once Minho made sure everyone had what they needed he made his way to his own bedroom, Chan next to him. “I forgot Lix gets cold easily,” he chuckles and carefully pushes the door open. He stops in his tracks, seeing you comfortably sprawled out on his bed, Minjun on your chest, and a book loosely in your hand. You're both asleep, looking peaceful and content. “Shit, I forgot about Y/nnie,” he curses quietly. 

“You can't really move him anywhere else, look at Minjun,” Chan giggles. 

“And where am I supposed to sleep?” he asks quietly, grabbing a fluffy blanket for Chan and Felix. 

“There's plenty of room next to them,” he says. 

“Chan. I can't just get into bed with my assistant,” he argues. 

“Your so-called assistant is hugging your son and asleep in your bed. I think you're way past that, mate,” he laughs. “It's your bed; just keep your distance or whatever.” Minho anxiously chews on his lower lip, debating a hundred different possibilities in his head. “Or you join me and Lix?”

“No, you two touchy fuckers can have that bed for your own,” he giggles, shoving his chest. “Not interested in a threesome right now.”

“Right now?” Chan teases, and Minho playfully raises his fist at him. “What about-”

“Go sleep, you're talking nonsense,” he laughs and gently shoves him outside. “Idiot.”

Chan giggles and gently shoves him back inside. “I'll hit you if you don't sleep in your own bed tonight. You still need rest, idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he groans. 

Minho stares down at the scene before him, the weight of Chan's words sinking in. He watches you and Minjun, both deep in the tranquil sleep of the innocent and the cared-for, their faces peaceful and free from the burdens that Minho carried on his shoulders.

Gathering all his bravery, Minho slowly approaches the bed, his movements hesitant but deliberate. As he reaches the edge, he pauses, taking a moment to truly look at you—someone who has become so much more than just an assistant. You have been his support system, his son's caregiver, and his unintentional savior in times of unspoken despair. How could he continue to maintain a mere professional boundary when everything about your relationship had transcended those limits?

Minho carefully settles on the far edge of the bed, maintaining a respectful distance. He lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions. The soft sounds of Minjun's and your breathing soothe his nerves. 

The room is silent, save for the soft ticking of the clock and the distant sounds of the city. Minho turns his head slightly, watching Minjun snuggle closer to you in his sleep. The sight is both beautiful and a stark reminder of the intimate moments he had missed during his recovery.

After a few moments, you shift in your sleep, perhaps sensing the added presence or the slight dip in the mattress as Minho lay down. Your eyes flutter open, and in the dim light, your gaze meets Minho’s. 

“Sorry,” you murmur, your voice sleepy yet filled with warmth. “I can leave.”

“Don't,” Minho says quickly and swallows hard. “He's comfortable here with you; there's no need to leave.”

“You're sure?” you ask, and he hums in response. “Well, you should get comfortable as well. There's no need to hover over the edge of the bed.”

Those words, softly spoken, are like a key turning in a lock for Minho. They break through his last hesitations, sweeping away the remnants of his doubts. He shifts closer, reducing the distance between him and you, and allows himself to relax fully. You turn on your side to face him, your eyes locking with his in the dim light.

“I’m sorry,” Minho whispers, the words thick with emotions. “For everything.”

Your hand finds his under the blankets, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We’re past apologies, Minho. I fucked up because I took him without telling you. I didn't think and expected you to trust me; that wasn't fair. You overreacted…which is kind of understandable. I'm sorry for my part in this, and you're sorry for yours. We're okay.”

Minho feels a warmth spread through his chest. He nods, accepting your forgiveness, and turns his attention to Minjun, who murmurs something inaudible in his sleep and snuggles closer to both of you.

-

The early morning rays begin to seep through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Your eyes slowly flutter open as they meet your face. Stretching your tired body, you slowly realize that Minjun is gone already…and that Minho has gotten a lot closer overnight. You glance down and see his arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to himself. His head is buried in your neck; you can feel his breath dancing across your skin. His hair feels soft against your skin and you wonder how it'd feel if you sank your hand into it. 

You freeze, unsure of what to do next. The warmth of his breath against your skin sends a mix of comfort and alarm coursing through you. This is Minho, you remind yourself, technically, he's still my boss. Yet, the intimacy of this accidental cuddling was something entirely new, a boundary neither of you had crossed before.

Minho stirs, his movements slow and sluggish as he approaches the edge of consciousness. You hold your breath, waiting for his reaction when he realizes the closeness you both shared through the night. His eyes open gently, adjusting to the soft morning light, and then widen slightly as he takes in the position you both are in.

There's a moment of silent understanding, a mutual acknowledgment of the unintentional closeness. Minho’s eyes flicker with a mix of surprise and something softer, a vulnerability you've seen only in fleeting moments. He pulls back slightly, his hand retreating from where it had found a place around your waist.

“I-I’m sorry,” Minho mutters, his voice a low rasp tinged with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to-.”

“It’s okay,” you interject quickly, your voice soft, attempting to brush off the awkwardness. “We were both asleep. Things happen.”

Minho nods, his cheeks tinged with a blush that he can't hide. He sits up, rubbing the back of his neck—anxious gestures that you’ve come to recognize as his way of coping with discomfort. 

Silence fills the room for a few heartbeats. Both of you glance away, then back at each other, unsure of how to navigate this new, uncharted territory in your relationship. Finally, Minho clears his throat, his eyes meeting yours with an earnestness that makes your heart skip a beat.

“I didn’t intend for that to happen,” he says, his voice steady but soft. “But I can’t say I regret waking up next to someone who means so much to Minjun… and to me.”

Your breath hitches slightly at his words, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks. “Minho, I-”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Minho interrupts gently. “I just want you to know that I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for us. For being here, for taking care of Minjun when I couldn’t, for being more than just an assistant, more than just a friend.”

The weight of his gratitude sits between you, heavy and warm. You nod, unsure of how to articulate the jumble of feelings his proximity and his words have stirred in you. 

“Thank you for trusting me, Minho,” you manage to say. 

Minho smiles a genuine smile that reaches his eyes, easing some of the tension. He glances at the clock, then back at you. “I guess we should get up. I promised Minjun pancakes, and I suspect he’ll be storming in soon if we don’t start cooking.”

You laugh, the sound light and freeing, breaking the last remnants of awkwardness. “Pancakes it is,” you agree, getting out of bed. You adjust your clothes, still feeling the warmth of where Minho’s arm was wrapped around you.

As you both head to the kitchen, the normalcy of the routine helps mend the morning’s awkward start. Minjun greets you both with a bright smile, oblivious to the tension from earlier, comfortably on Changbin’s lap. “Uncle Changnin is fun,” he announces, making everyone giggle at his slight mispronunciation. 

“Mhm, of course, I am,” Changbin smirks, shooting the others a glare. “Uncle Changnin is fun..unlike some others here.”

Minho laughs, rolling his eyes at him. “Who wants breakfast?”

Throughout the morning, there are shared glances and shy smiles between you and Minho, a silent acknowledgment of a bond that had deepened in the most unexpected way. As you watch Minho flip pancakes, his laughter mingling with Minjun’s excited chatter, you feel a contentment settle over you. This, you realize, is more than just a job; more than just a responsibility-it’s a part of your life that you cherish deeply.

Later, as you sit together eating the slightly deformed pancakes that Minjun insists are perfect, you catch Minho’s eye, and he gives you a small, grateful smile. You'd be okay. 

PART TWO | PART FOUR

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

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[strawheart-pirate]

What they do for their sick s/o who can’t leave the ship

Sanji, Nami, Law, Penguin & Shachi, Kid, Killer

CW: SFW. This is just fluff. no drugs, no alcohol, no smokes, just soup and pampering. Comfort. They go above and beyond for you.

Scenario: After weeks at sea, you finally reached an island, but you were unable to leave the ship. You had the flu, and because it came with a cough, fever and chills, you were not allowed to leave your bed. Your s/o went on the island to get some goods, and maybe they have a surprise for you.

Read part 1 here: Luffy, Zoro, Usopp, Robin, Franky, Brook

Sanji

- Since Sanji is a good listener and observer, he knew exactly what you needed. - Although he didn't want to leave your side, he had to gather a few things that would help you overcome your sickness. It took him only a short time to gather everything and he was back sooner than you expected. - He prepared a nice stew with only the best and freshest veggies and wrapped some small gifts. Not long after, he wheeled a small service cart next to your bed. It was packed with the small gifts, flowers in a vase and a steaming stew full of veggies. - “Sanji, it smells delicious.” – “I made you a very rich stew. We’ll get you back on your feet in no time with my special care.” You smiled at him. He insisted on feeding you, even though you were perfectly capable of holding the spoon with your own hands. You sulked at first but seeing him so happy made you enjoy it. - After your meal you unwrapped the little gifts. It was a few souvenirs and the one thing you’d been talking about for weeks. “Thank you, Sanji.” – “Anything for you. Now tell me. Do you want me to give you a massage, or do you want to watch a movie, or how can I help you?” - “This may sound strange, but can you read to me or tell me a story while I try to sleep?” – “Of course, just make yourself comfortable. Shall I tell you stories of the North Blue?” Sanji sat down on the bed beside you, and you made yourself comfortable and laid your head on his lap. - You fell asleep listening to Sanji’s smooth voice.

Nami

- Would boss the whole crew around to make you feel better and recover faster. Sanji would get most of her wrath, and he’d be ordered to cook you a soup and whatever you want. - Hits Luffy when he tries to steal your food away and is in a very bad mood because she wanted to enjoy the island together with you. - You would send her off to the island to give everyone a break (but make sure not to phrase it like that!). She would be gone for the whole day. - When she returns, she’ll apologize (but only to you) for being so stressed, but she’s just worried. She’d tell you about how she got nearly everything for free and show you all the new clothes and accessories. - In the end, she’d hand you a small box. She got you a little souvenir with the name of the island on it and added a voucher to it. “For later. We could take the shark submerge and visit an island of your choice...” She said with a soft smile, and you were once again amazed at how generous Nami could be. “Thank you Nami, you’re the best. I’m looking forward to our little trip.” You hugged her show your gratitude. - You spent the evening watching a movie until you fell asleep on her shoulder.

Trafalgar Law

- Your captain was very strict about the bed rest he prescribed you, so no island for you. Not even a glimpse of it. - Though he acted serious and cold towards you, his heart ached when you begged him to go. But it was for your own good that he was this persistent. - He made sure to have Bepo watch over you, knowing that you loved the bear and that he would be able to comfort you. - As he went about his duties on the island, his mind wandered off to you frequently and he thought hard about he could get you to lighten your mood and make up for not being able to visit the island. - He returned to the Polar Tang with a small bag in his hand. As he entered the room, you were fast asleep. He placed the paper bag on your nightstand and was about to leave quietly, when you shifted. - The smell of your favorite pastry woke you up and you saw Law before he could leave the room. “Law?” He slowly turned around. “I came to check on you, but you were asleep and-“ You interrupted him as you saw the paper bag on the nightstand. “Is that what I think it is?” Your eyes sparkled with excitement as you grabbed the bag and looked inside. “You went to a bakery for me?” You flashed him a smile and he looked away feeling caught. “Don’t read too much into it…” he muttered. You took his hand and smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Law.”  Law only squeezed your hand a little as an answer. “I have to go to set the new course.” He mumbled and left the room. - You just giggled at how flustered he was. As you ate your favorite pastry, you smiled thinking about how Law really went out of his way to treat you.

Penguin & Shachi

- They sat on either side of your bed and cried as if you were going to die. But you weren’t, and no matter how many times you told them, that you were going to get better, they still cried. The trash was full of wet tissues, and as much as you liked them, you needed a break. - So, you sent them off to the island to do whatever they wanted. - They were determined to find you something, anything that would help you and keep you from dying. They were not that good at cooking, so they needed to help you in another way. - When they came across a beauty shop, they went in. They took notes on how to do nails, how to give proper massages and how to do face masks and compressions. They left the shop with a large bag full of creams, oils, and tools. - Once they returned, Shachi prepared the tub for you with your favorite bubble bath and your rubber ducky, and washed your hair while you soaked in the tub. Meanwhile Penguin set up the room ready for your surprise. When you came back into the room, you noticed all the candles, cosmetics, and the incense sticks. It smelled nice. - “What’s this all about?” – “We can’t help your immune system, but we can help you relax.” Penguin explained and soon you found yourself being pampered by the men. Their hands were not as skilled as the professionals with the utensils or the movements, but they managed it quite well. And you really enjoyed it. - If you ask them to do your nails, they will make a competition out of it. - You had the most precious spa day with these guys and your weakened body really enjoyed their pampering.

Eustass Kid

- Kid was angry. Not at you, but the fact that you couldn’t get out of bed because of that damn flu really pissed him off. You tried to calm him down and told him, that you were okay (you weren’t okay, but he needed to calm down, so you swallowed your own sadness), but he wouldn’t listen. - “If I can’t kill the fucking flu, I’ll at least burn this fucking island to the ground.” He said and left. You were left alone in your bed, hoping for the best. - Kid left the ship alongside Killer. “Do you know how to kill the flu?” - “Give it some time and they will be fine. Some soup or medicine can ease the symptoms.” - With that in mind, Kid wandered around with an angry expression on his face. The people who came across him hid behind walls or changed their direction, no one wanted to be the one facing his wrath. Finally, Kid found what he was looking for. - “You!” He broke down the door and scattered inside. “You're caring for a sick one, I saw it from outside.” He had an angry scowl on his face, a vein was ticking, and his voice was demanding. The woman at the stove nodded hesitantly. - “I need that soup and whatever you have, that makes a sick person feel better. Now.” He commanded with a twisted smile. The frightened woman hurried up and placed a soup, some herbs, and creams in a bag. “Well done.” He said and left for the ship. - “The soup is good.” You smiled at him and took another spoonful of it. “That’s good, otherwise I’d tear this city apart.” You saw that he was restless and tense. “Tell you what, come here.” You moved to one side of the bed, and he sat down beside you, putting an arm around you. “Can you show me your little trick?” You asked and he smirked and was about to give a cocky answer, but you had already placed some screws and small metal parts in his palm before you continued to eat your soup. So, he let it slide and activated his powers. First, he locked the door, no need for an audience, and then he stacked the parts and formed little butterflies with them. You watched in awe as he let them fly across the room. - You set down the now empty bowl. “Thank you.” You said and played with one of the little metal creatures as Kid watched the scene with a confident smile.

Killer

- He has a plan. He knows how to deal with a sick Captain Kid, and he definitely knows what you need. - Grabbing his list, he went to the island and was determined to be back soon. But then Kid caused some trouble on the island, and he had to deescalate the whole situation. He came back with everything on his list, an angry captain, and a sour mood. - He went into the kitchen and started to prepare everything for you. If anyone entered the kitchen, he would take his anger out on them, so everyone avoided going near the kitchen, no matter how hungry they were. - You woke up when a now calm Killer entered the room with a hot meal, some meds, and a bottle of water. “Hey, sorry if I woke you up.” You gave him a tired smile and a delicious smell entered your nose. “It’s okay. Did you cook?” – “Yeah, hope it helps you get better.” You sat up and he placed the food on your lap. It tasted good and you hummed appreciatively. “Thank you. It’s delicious.” – “I’m glad you like it. I also bought some meds, just in case.” He said placing the meds on your nightstand. - After the meal, Killer sat down beside you and you curled up against him. You mumbled a small 'thank you' and quickly fell asleep while Killer watched over you.

All content unless otherwise stated belongs to: ©Strawheart-pirate. Please do not copy / modify / translate / repost my writing, banners or art on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated!

[rninies]

✮ rainbow rose

౨ৎ lyney x reader. fluff, gn!reader, based off of his story quest iirc or the archon quest i cant remember, flirty lyney — wc: 1171

notes. live laugh love lyney

“y/n, do you remember what rainbow roses meant in terms of magicians using them in their performances?” charlotte asks you on a relaxing stroll through the city of fontaine.

you looked at her and tilted your head, unsure of where she was going with this. “um, something about romantic… stuff?”

“passion and romantic encounters,” charlotte quickly corrects you before she suddenly stops, holding both of your hands in excitement. “lyney gave you one if i’m not mistaken?” you nodded slowly and charlotte squeals. “you know what that means don’t you? lyney definitely has a crush on you!”

you froze in your place, processing what charlotte just said. you let out a laugh. “don’t be silly, charlotte. he just gave me one to, um, express his gratitude for helping him in one of his magic shows.”

charlotte gives you an ‘are-you-serious?’ look, letting out a sigh. “y/n just because i’m a reporter doesn’t mean i’m oblivious to romance! look, i’ve covered a lot of romance articles and i can tell when someone’s in love with a person.”

“charlotte,” you let out an exasperated sigh. “lyney and i are just friends, nothing more. him giving me a rainbow rose doesn’t mean anything more! he just decided to change the flower he’d be using in his magic tricks to rainbow roses. besides, weren’t you the one who told him magicians usually use rainbow roses in their flower-related tricks?”

“okay, fine, i’ll drop it.” charlotte raises her hands up in surrender. “but if he does have a crush on you and you guys develop into something more, do let me know. i’d love to get news on the famous magician’s love life.”

you slapped charlotte playfully on her forearm, continuing your stroll with her.

it wasn’t just five minutes later that charlotte saw lyney walking just a few steps away. “lyney! what’re you doing here?” charlotte calls out to him, nudging your ribs to catch your attention. you let out a painful yelp, sending charlotte a quick glare before your gaze softens, seeing lyney walking towards you, an adorable smile plastered all over his handsome face.

“ah, charlotte and y/n, what a pleasure it is to meet you two here,” lyney greets. “what are you two doing here?”

charlotte looks at you expectantly, basically saying ‘come on, answer him!’. you quickly cleared your throat, fixing your posture. “oh, um we were just walking… around. how about you? what’re you doing?”

“oh me? i was just grabbing a few supplies for my magic show this afternoon,” lyney responded, showing you the bag he’s holding. “speaking of magic shows, do you guys want to come later? i can reserve two seats for you,” he says, a glint of hope flickering his eyes. “front row.” he quickly adds.

you and charlotte look at each other before nodding in agreement. “sure! we don’t have anything planned this afternoon so we’re free. plus, today’s charlotte free day so it’s great timing.”

lyney gives you a big smile. “great! i’ll-”

“lyney, come on. we have to go back and check on all the props,” lynette suddenly appears behind lyney, scaring all three of you. “hi charlotte, y/n.”

“lynette,” lyney says with a huge sigh. “you have to stop doing that. you’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.”

“don’t be dramatic. we really have to go, lyney.” lynette says before she starts walking away, already expecting lyney to follow behind her.

“sorry, i really have to go,” lyney apologetically says. before he leaves, however, he takes off his hat, pulling out a rainbow rose from inside. “for you.” he hands you the flower and leaves, not giving you a chance to say anything.

you blankly stare at him until his figure was nowhere in sight.

“oh. my. god!” charlotte exclaimed, breaking the silence. “he gave you another rose! y/n come on, this can’t be a coincidence!”

you stared at the rose in your hands, a small smile appearing on your face. “i don’t- shut up, charlotte.”

charlotte gives you a knowing look, smirking slightly. she nudges your shoulder, quietly telling you to continue the shopping spree.

four hours later

it was time for lyney and lynette’s magic show to start. you and charlotte arrived at the court of fontaine fifteen minutes earlier, so there were no audiences yet. lyney was talking to one of the staff members on stage before he noticed you. 

his face brightens up when he sees you. “you guys made it!” he says, jumping down from the stage. “these are your seats by the way. front row.” lyney points at the seats right behind you and charlotte.

“thank you for reserving these seats for us, lyney.” charlotte shows her gratitude. “oh, before the show starts, mind if i go buy us some snacks and drinks? it’ll just be a minute.” she gives you a wink and you know she’s up to something.

“oh do you-”

“i don’t need help! you just accompany lyney here before the show starts. you know how nervous he gets.” charlotte says before running off.

“hey- charlotte!” you exclaimed, watching her figure disappear. “um, sorry about that lyney… she can be quite a handful when she isn’t in her work mode.”

“oh, that’s fine. you seem really close with charlotte,” lyney says. “how’d you meet her in the first place anyway?”

“huh? oh it was in mondstadt. a pretty long time ago, actually, now that i think about it” you let out a chuckle, remembering the adventure you had with her. “um, so back to your show! are you prepared? are you nervous?” you asked him in a teasing tone.

lyney rubs the back of his neck. “is it that obvious? yes, i’m nervous. today’s show is… pretty important to me.”

“hm? isn’t every single one of your shows important to you?” you asked, confused. “what’s the difference between this show and the other shows?”

lyney’s face suddenly flushed red. “oh, um, you’ll- you’ll see later when the show starts. i’m not spoiling anything.”

instead of questioning him further, you let him be. he obviously won’t reply to any of your questions. charlotte eventually comes back with 2 garlic baguettes and 2 bottles of fonta.

“hey! the line wasn’t super long for the- what’s with the awkward silence?”

lyney clears his throat. “i have to go backstage now. i’ll see you guys when the show starts.” he gives you a quick wave, running off.

charlotte has one eyebrow raised when you look back at her. “what just happened?”

you shrugged. “i have no idea. i asked him about his show and he just suddenly got embarrassed. i mean, why is he so embarrassed?”

“hmm,” charlotte hums, placing down the snacks and drinks. “maybe he’s doing something new? i mean, everything he does is new but maybe this one is super special.”

“i guess…” you mumbled. people started entering the court, so you and charlotte sat down on your seats, patiently waiting for the show to start.

lyney’s show was amazing as per usual. he’s managed to awe the audience with just a few tricks, and you can’t help but feel proud of him.

it was the end of the show, and lyney had only one act left.

“alright, for this last act, i’m going to need an audience member to come up and technically help me with this trick,” lyney starts, and most of the audience began growing excited, hoping to be picked. “instead of using the number generator we used last time, i’ll be picking from this hat.”

“ah, all the numbers inside here are written by lynette so i did not make any cheats.” lyney makes sure to confirm, lynette silently waving behind the curtains. 

he pulls out a piece of paper from the hat and as soon as he sees the number written on it, a smile appears on his face. “row a, seat number 5.”

beside you, charlotte lets out an excited gasp, shaking your shoulder. “y/n it's your seat number!” before you could even process anything, the spotlight shines above you. charlotte pushes you to stand up, and seeing many eyes staring at you makes you feel nervous.

“y/n,” lyney whispers loud enough for you to hear. you turned your head to see him giving you a smile, his hand stretched out in front of him. “it’s okay. don’t be nervous. this trick isn’t dangerous at all, i promise.” you nodded, taking lyney’s hand as you walked up the stage.

“okay, this last trick is a simple hat trick,” lyney takes his hat off, placing it on a table that has a cloth covering it right in the middle of the stage. “as you can see, it is an empty hat, nothing inside of it. just a regular hat,” you looked inside of the hat and true to his words, it indeed was just a normal hat. “y/n, if you would please take out a piece of paper from inside the hat.”

you hesitantly placed your hand in the hat, searching for the paper. surprisingly, you found a small hidden compartment just on the inside of the hat. you took the paper out of the compartment, showing it to the audience, who were in awe with just a simple trick. the paper was folded into a small piece, but lyney stops you from opening it.

“next, please take a flower out of my hat.” lyney instructs, and you placed your hand back into the hat, searching for the flower. to your surprise, you find lynette under the table, opening the top part of the hat to hand you the flower (you honestly almost laughed at the face she was making but you kept it to yourself). 

it was another rainbow rose — three to be exact. when charlotte sees it her eyes lit up, taking out a notepad to write something down. as someone who doesn’t know much about flowers, you don’t understand why the audience started squealing in excitement. you looked at lyney in confusion but he doesn’t say anything to you. “and that is it for my last trick! thank you all for coming to my show!” confetti popped out of the machines in front of the stage, marking the end of the show. “y/n, open the paper.”

you did as he told, and when you read the note, you were immediately flustered.

3 rainbow roses = i love you <3

wanna go on a date with me? ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[luxaryllis]

My Friend

Note: I'm back!! I wrote this fic for @twst-charity , which is a Twisted Wonderland-themed charity drive for Palestine. Please do check it out and donate!! Their pinned post and blog in general has a lot of information, and they also have contributor sign-ups open as well! I really hope you guys can support in any way you can!

Here's the link to donate and send a request as well! The whole thing works rather similarly to giving a commission, except you simply have to provide a proof of your donation and then give your request.

Anyways, this is a fic focused on Rollo and the donor's oc, Robin! Fic is under the cut. I had so much fun writing this, especially since this was my first time writing for Rollo. Hopefully I can also get to work on other requests for the charity drive and the requests on my inbox as well! This is also full fluff so no warnings from here!

Chatter and laughter fill the cafe, filling the area with a lively and bustling atmosphere. The smell of coffee beans and freshly baked pastries waft through the air and easily excite the customers piling in. The door jingles lightly with every person walking in, and people all converse together happily. Groups of friends, couples, families, and even those alone are enveloped by the welcoming ambience of the cafe.

The bells jingle again, prompting the servers to enthusiastically thank the two people who were leaving. Rollo and Robin step out of the warm cafe, a cold breeze greeting them as soon as they step outside. Robin takes a small sip of his hot chocolate, smiling happily at the toasty feeling it brings to him. The shorter boy lets out a small hum of contentment as the hot beverage smoothly goes down his throat.

“Mmmh! Thanks for treating me, Rollo. This cafe really is good!” Robin grins up at Rollo in happiness and gratitude. Rollo only nods, using his handkerchief to cover his mouth a bit. Rollo’s voice is slightly muffled as he speaks from behind the cloth, “Of course. It’s my pleasure. This cafe is known for its authentic traditional food from Fleur City, so I thought it best to show you the richness of Fleur City’s culture.”

The two start to stroll together by the sidewalk, a peaceful silence between the two friends. A few butterflies flutter over, making Robin giggle slightly as he watches them fly about without a care. The butterflies then proceeded to fly away, the whimsical wings fluttering off. Just as the winged insects flew out of view, a small drop of water fell on Rollo’s shoulder, making him pause and look around to see whoever or whatever made the water fall on him.

With that one droplet of water, came another. And another. Until drops of rain were falling from the sky. Robin lets out an exclamation of surprise, not having anticipated it to start raining. It’s somewhat evident that Rollo didn’t expect it either, if his annoyed mutters into the handkerchief fully covering his mouth mean anything. The two quickly run back to the cafe, stopping just outside and taking shelter under the extended roof. Rollo heaves a sigh of relief and pockets his handkerchief, looking at Robin who was trying to dry his slightly damp hair.

Robin lets out a small chuckle and quickly downs the rest of his hot chocolate, setting it by the table nearby. The two take a seat and watch as Fleur City becomes a rainy wonderland. While it was a mundane and normal sight to Rollo, who has lived in Fleur City his whole life, it seemed almost like a life-changing experience to Robin. There was just something so beautiful about how the raindrops fell and made puddles in the ground, rippling with every drop that fell. How the petals of the flowers outside would bend a bit when a drop would fall on them, and how the bright sun still shines despite the rain and darkening clouds, making a wonderful scene.

Such a stunning sight should definitely be captured on camera.

The younger boy takes out his camera and turns it on, looking through the viewfinder of the camera. Robin squints in concentration as he fiddles with the focus and zoom rings on his camera, trying to find the best way to capture the wondrous moment. Rollo watches on in slight confusion, but doesn’t say anything just yet. He knows when someone needs to focus, and photography is a delicate art that requires all concentration. A shutter and click sound is heard, and Robin looks at the photo he took. A bright grin grows on his face as he sees the picture.

“Rollo, Rollo! You should take a look at this!” Rollo blinks a bit and leans over curiously, looking from above Robin’s shoulder to see the picture. It was just a standard picture of Fleur City raining; it wasn’t anything extraordinary. While Fleur City was a beautiful sight, was it really worth taking a photo of it while it was raining? It’s still the same city, after all; it’s not like there’s any change to Fleur City as it rains. The same buildings, the same flowers, the same people.

And yet... when looking at it through Robin’s camera, everything seems brighter, almost mesmerising. Rollo was used to the sight of Fleur City, though he loved his homeplace very dearly, but even he didn’t expect to see this beautiful sight. The camera caught even the smallest of details, and it was so wonderful to see that such a moment was perfectly captured and preserved. Rollo forces himself to hide the small smile growing on his face, but lets himself release a sound of affirmation and pride. “Hm, you did well. A beautifully taken picture. The beauty of Fleur City truly shines with this...”

It was rare for Rollo to give praise to anything or anyone, and is more seen showing his disdain for things more than anything else. Robin blushes a bit and sheepishly grins, puffing out his chest a bit in confidence, “Hehe I’m glad you like it! Oh! How about I print it out for you? You really like Fleur City, don’t you? I can print it out as a keepsake for you or something.”

Rollo blinks a bit in surprise, “Really? You would?” He pauses and hesitates a bit. His pride and ego is telling him not to accept it; after all, he shouldn’t seem so vulnerable in front of others. Especially not after what happened last time. He swore to himself never to let his emotions truly get the better of him. He’s been forgiven by the NRC students, but he’ll never forget their faces and the faces of the people who got hurt because of him. But then... it’s Robin.

It surprises him how kind Robin is, and he feels almost taken aback when Robin nods happily, his big grin brighter than even the sun. Rollo sighs in defeat, “I would like that. Thank you…”

Robin lets out a celebratory noise and keeps his camera. “I’ll print it out when I get back and give it to you, then!”

It was so surprising sometimes, how Robin can be so sweet to someone like Rollo. Rollo knows he can be too much. He knows he’s done so many things that are wrong. No matter how much he works, he knows he might never truly make up for it. He doesn’t understand how Robin, who has been so exposed to magic despite having none himself, can be so caring and understanding. How can Robin be so kind to him? Rollo is rather sure that, after what he’s done to Robin’s friends, he wouldn’t even want to be associated with him.

Rollo breaks the peaceful silence between them as he softly speaks, “Why? Why are you so kind to me?” Robin blinks and tilts his head to the side with a confused expression. “Hm? What do you mean by that?”

The older boy sighs and tries to explain, “I mean... certainly you should feel some sort of disdain towards me, shouldn’t you? It’s a wonder that you’re so kind to me. So why? Why are you…?"

“Huh?! Hey, don’t say that, Rollo! Why am I so kind to you...? Well, I guess it’s because it looks like you need a friend!” Robin musters up a kind smile to his companion. “I don’t see how it’s so special, though, but I’d be very glad to be the friend that you need!”

A friend… Rollo’s had close acquaintances before, maybe some people he’ll confide in sometimes, but he’s never really thought of anyone as a friend. After the incident with his younger brother, after he swore to himself to eradicate all magic in this world, he’s never had someone he can truly call a friend. He tries to keep his blush and smile hidden behind his handkerchief, muttering to himself as he averts his gaze.

Yet Robin thinks of him as a friend. Are there people out there who think of him as a friend too? Perhaps not, not with his terrible temperament. But Robin seeing him as a friend is a big surprise. Or, knowing the first year’s friendliness and kindness, maybe it isn’t so shocking.

“I don’t deserve someone as amazing as you…” Rollo mumbles out softly, his voice muffled by the handkerchief over his mouth. As Rollo watches Robin hum in confusion, asking what he just said, he swears to himself to not make the same mistake he made last time.

Robin makes him feel like a normal person again. Like he isn’t just Noble Bell College’s Student Council President. Like he’s just another person. Like he didn’t actually do so many terrible things in a fit of rage and revenge. Like he’s just a friend to someone. It’s hard to muster up the words to describe the warmth he feels, and Rollo’s pride and ego just can’t let him express his true feelings. Not now. Not yet. For now, he can only manage to say what he’s always wanted to say in his head.

“Thank you, Robin. You’ve saved me, my friend.”

[zaeliaeve]

𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓕𝓵𝓪𝓶𝓮 [𝓚.𝓜] 𝟏𝟖+ Chapter 3

18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI

warnings: oral sex, vaginal sex, size kink, and daddy kink.

- 

It's fair to say most people would take a wealthy man's money if given the opportunity.

If you add him being in a relationship and having an affair the option to take the money would seem obvious, but for some reason, it wasn't. It was a kind gesture but it was one that felt sleazy taking for Bianca.

Bianca pondered on how to approach the situation and landed on a simple text; one that she didn't really expect him to respond to given his recent moody state of mind. How could one man go from coming in your mouth, to ignoring you like you never existed, and then giving a blank check with flowers that same day? It was hard to keep up with.

Even through all of that, she didn't want to stop anything between them. If anything she craved it more. She pressed her thighs together just thinking about Kylian emptying himself down her throat. Kylian was like a drug.

It was everything about him. His wide friendly smile, his strong broad shoulders, his low sensual voice. It was hard not to be drawn to him.

Although Kylian's behavior was odd she understood it. This was a consequence of being with someone who already has someone they're giving their time and attention to and have for years before her. Camille was the mother of his child and nothing could change that.

Bianca still felt she should show her gratitude even if she wasn't going to take him up on the offer. It was only right.

The only reason Bianca had managed to get Kylian's number was because they would message each other their lunch orders when they needed to. They had only messaged once or twice outside of those terms.

She could only imagine how awkward it would be for Camille to stumble upon his phone and find texts with his secretary. What would she say? How would she feel?

But under these circumstances, it seemed appropriate.

B: You didn't have to do that but I really do appreciate it. Thank you for your kindness, I really needed it today.

Bianca hadn't had time to dwindle on the subject after she sent the text because she spent the next hour on the phone with her mother, completely distracted from anything else. As she was hanging up, her phone vibrated.

KM: I wanted to do it. I hope you enjoy your trip and spend time with your family. Bring back another one of your sister's scarves, Ariella spilled red apple sauce all over mine last month.

She laughed and buried the lower half of her face deeper into her pillow, ignoring the tinge of internal guilt at the mention of his daughter.

B: I'm not going, but I'll have her send another one through the mail.

Surprisingly, he messaged back quickly.

KM: Why not? Do you think I haven't noticed you scrolling through your mom's pictures on Facebook when you're supposed to be working? This is all you wanted

B: I want to go more than anything but I'm not taking your money. I'll be able to go in a few months after I finish paying off my engine. Also, how did you get my address?

KM: I definitely broke a few company policies for you, I hope you feel special.

KM: Do you really think I'd offer you money if I didn't mean it? Considerate it a thank-you gift for all the things your family sends. Your grandma's creams cured my cough in one night.

B: I'm not taking your money!! I don't take other people's things that they worked for.

The irony is not lost upon her.

B: And maybe I feel just a littleeeee bit special.

KM: Just think about it, but who knows for your birthday I might buy you a car out of pure spite!

B: Okay, I will. Thank you again, goodnight Mbappé.

KM: Kylian*** and bonne nuit Bianca. When Bianca came into work a few days later, she was surprised to find a receipt for a plane ticket on her desk. It said her full name and the date which was for that very weekend. Bianca instantly called Kylian's landline phone. "You didn't," Bianca said with surprise as she looked down at the paper, not even saying hello. 

He laughed from the other end of the phone. "I did. You wouldn't let me do it any other way," he says like it is nothing.

"Kylian" she whined, tears blurring her vision. 

Bianca was overcome with many emotions, at a loss for words as she shook slightly. "Thank you so much I don't even know what to say"

He let out a soft awww before shaking his head, smiling growing wider. "You deserve it. It's not that big of a deal, I don't know if you know this or not but money isn't exactly a worry for me" His tone was light and teasing.

She told him, nose becoming stuffy. "It is a big deal Kylian! Thank you,  thank you." 

 "Go have fun, Bianca."

And she did.

The trip was for four days meaning she missed only two days of work, the other days being her time off anyways. While in her home country, she took time to decompress. Bianca visited her father's gravesite, finally ate a homecooked meal after months, and read bedtime stories to her nephews. It was everything she needed, and more.

It felt so good to sleep in her old bed, but it came with complicated emotions when she would wake up and her father wouldn't be there reading the morning newspaper at the kitchen table. It felt more empty in the house even though the family had only grown since then.

Coming home offered a unique perspective that she was missing for all those months in Paris. As promised, she brought home a big bag of bread, candy, homemade creams, and knitted things for everyone around the office but most of all Kylian.

Going from somewhere hot and peaceful to the cold bustling Paris was an adjustment. 

On the day Bianca came back into the office it was absolutely pouring outside. Thunder vibrated the building's walls all day, many of the higher-ups deciding just to go home and work from their own houses. 

As the day neared its end she received a text from Kylian. 

Taking public transport in this weather will be horrible. You'll go home drenched like a dog. Let me give you a ride

Bianca instantly replied to the text. You've done enough for me this week, I'll be fine (thank u though).

Kylian sent a thumbs-down reaction to her message. I just wanted an excuse to spend time with you. Humor me a bit Bianca

Oh Kylian will you please drive me home in this pouring rain? I'll wash away in the sewers if you don't rescue me!

He responded with a laughing emoji, and then a red heart. Well since you asked so nicely.

They met inside his car, both making sure to walk out separately at different times so as to not be seen together. "I would ask if you want directions but you already know apparently" Bianca teased as he pressed the push-to-start button. 

Internally she was gawking at his car.All-white leather seats, a grand glass sunroof, and a big touchscreen console. It was stunning. 

"How was your trip?" Kylian asked as he pulled out of his parking spot. 

The radio played quietly in the background. "It was therapeutic. My nephews grew so much that I couldn't believe it. The youngest is talking now and when I left he would barely say mama. I forgot time doesn't slow down for anyone." Bianca explained, eyes trained on the smooth road.

Kylian nodded empathetically. "I understand how you feel. Ariella is growing and learning new things every day. The other day she wrote her first name in crayon. It wasn't the neatest, but she did it all on her own. it's scary but rewarding to watch a baby grow into their own person." Something changed in him when he mentioned his daughter, a brightness in his eyes.

Bianca's lips upturned as she looked at him. "That's a big accomplishment. I'm sure you're a proud papa."

He flashed his white teeth. "The proudest." 

Kylian changed the subject as he put on his turn signal, the mood switching back to casual. "It was boring at the firm without you. We had one of Leo's assistants fill in as the secretary and he didn't laugh once at any of my jokes. Plus, he wasn't wearing a tight skirt to make up for his personality, so it was even worse" He teased, head nodding to her outfit.

"If that's what it takes for you to leave me alone I'll come in with a hazmat suit tomorrow" Bianca giggled, playing along.

The Frenchman shook his head, a smirk still on his lips. "Without me, you would have quit a long time ago."

He wasn't wrong so Bianca decided not to say anything but to just laugh instead.

"Did you bring me back anything? I hope you brought those little jelly-filled cookies"  

Bianca looked out her window, not wanting to make eye contact for what she was going to say. "Actually I brought you a lot of things but I left them in my house. I can bring them to you or..." she trailed off.

"...Or?" Kylian chirped back

She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs together. "Or you can come inside."

He breathed in heavily. "Okay, sure."

They made it to her home and Bianca was almost trembling with anticipation while she turned the key over.  When they stepped inside, they took off their shoes at the door before she led him into her bedroom. 

Kylian wrapped his arms around her as they stood in front of the bed, Bianca's heart melting at the feeling of his soft lips on her own. It was everything she wanted it to be. Kylian grasped at her body as their tongues met, sighing happily into the kiss. They made out for a while, infatuated with each other's mouths.

 "You know I've never seen you naked before" Kylian breathlessly noted after some time. 

Bianca leaned up to peck his lips again, eyes twinkling. "Ahh I'm nervous. Close your eyes and I'll get on the bed."

He chuckled and turned around to take his pants off then button down his shirt."You have no reason to be nervous, you're beautiful" he assured her kindly.

Bianca quickly stripped herself of her work clothes before laying on top of the bed, staring at Kylian's muscular back and legs as he stood in his boxers. "You can look now."

Kylian walked over to the bed; silently gasping as he glanced down at the lilac lace adorning her frame. "What's this?" He asked, running his hands over the material covering her chest. 

He moved back a bit so he could look at her full body, taking her in completely before crawling on top of her.

Bianca's cheeks flushed red as she tried to nuzzle into his neck to hide her embarrassment. His hands pushed her gently back down onto the bed so their eyes could meet. "You got all dolled up for me, ma belle?" His tone was soft, yet in awe.

His gaze felt so caring it made it hard to keep eye contact but yet she wanted to drown in the feeling forever.

This feels different than before.

"I wanted to surprise you," Bianca says honestly, batting her long eyelashes as she maintained deep eye contact.

Kylian leans down to kiss her affectionately, hand caressing her cheek as if she were made of glass. She inhales into the kiss, breathing in Kylian's intoxicatingly enticing cologne. When he pulls away his breathing is heavier. "You are absolutely perfect."

Her stomach flips at his words and she brings him back down for another kiss, this time with more passion in her own way to reciprocate the sentiment. Both of their hearts are pounding as their limbs laced together, truly enjoying the feel of each other.

As the kiss heated up, Kylian brought his hand up to rub against Bianca's thinly clothed nipple earning a soft mewl from her. Fueled by her reaction, he broke the kiss to leave sloppy kisses down her neck and onto her chest, sucking on the spot he knows drives her crazy.

Kylian unclasped her bra with ease before tossing it onto the hardwood floor. He froze in his place to look at her and smiled at her blown-out pupils, raw lips, and erect nipples. "Magnifique" he praised before attaching his mouth onto her breast.

Bianca's back arched up as she ground onto his already rock-solid bulge, holding his head while he suckled onto her left nipple. She moaned loudly from the intense feeling, holding him as tightly as she could while the wet sensation clouded all her senses.

He rolled his tongue around the sensitive nerves, grazing purposefully with his bottom teeth. A string of saliva was drawn out as he pulled away and moved onto the other breast, repeating the process "s-so good" Bianca babbled out, drunk with lust.

Kylian looked up with darkened eyes as he sucked hungrily, pleased with her whines. Bianca was sopping wet, a small pool of her juices spreading onto Kylian's skin. He pulled away from her chest and kissed downwards until he reached the top of her lace underwear.

Without hesitation, he pulled the lace down her legs before spreading them enough to slide himself in between. Bianca almost screamed as Kylian licked at her wet heat, he held his hands firmly at the top of her thighs.

"So wet for me princess" his voice vibrated as he spoke, causing her to grind down further.

He lapped at her slick folds, moaning at the sweet taste. One hand lifted off of her thighs and he pressed two long fingers at her entrance. Kylian sucked at her swollen clit as he inserted his fingers deeply, quickly finding a steady rhythm.

Bianca's eyes rolled back, uncontrollable noises falling from her lips as Kylian's fingers sunk into her, hitting her most sensitive places. Kylian only sucked harder at her clit, causing her thighs to shake around his head.

It took everything within her brain power to be able to form a sentence, even in pieces. "Fuck me, please fuck me, please Kylian" she got out, brain too gone for embarrassment.

Kylian continued his movements, fingers only speeding up as she quivered underneath his tongue. "Please daddy" she begged, feeling too close to her edge.

He outrightly moaned and stood up off of the bed, leaving Bianca's thighs dripping onto the sheets below. Kylian pulled down his boxers to reveal his fully erect length, precum oozing down the tip.

"My needy little whore" he cooed as he brought her naked body to the edge of the bed.

Bianca smiled at the name before sharply inhaling while Kylian lined himself up with her. He stroked at his length before dragging himself down her folds, soaking his tip in the clear liquid. Kylian pressed his dick up against Bianca's clit, teasing her while she begged him for more.

After he got the reaction he wanted he moved down and slowly inserted himself, drooling at the sight of her gripping him tightly. Bianca tapped on his chest, causing him to freeze immediately in his place. "Do you want to wear a condom?" She asked, still half full of him.

He thought about it for a quick second, but his mind already seemed made up. "Do you want me to wear a condom?" He repeated back.

"No, wanna feel you raw."

Kylian smiled sweetly and then pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Likewise, princess."

Bianca lifted her head to watch the slow movements pick back up, sighing in contentment at the feeling and sight of his thick cock stretching her.

He leaned over to kiss her, slipping his tongue in sloppily while he bottomed out fully within her. They made out hotly as Bianca got used to his size. When she started bucking into him, he took that as a sign to start moving again. Slowly, he picked up his pace- groaning raspily as he fucked into her tight hole.

She moved to lift her legs onto his shoulders, crying out in ecstasy when he reached a new level of deep. Kylian's jaw dropped at the new angle as he held on to her tightly, thrusting into her quicker. "Fuck it's b-big" Bianca slurred, eyelids dropping with pleasure.

Kylian pressed his large hand down onto her stomach. "Can you feel it in here, mon bébé?" His tone was low and confident.

Bianca dropped her hand down under his, moaning loudly when she felt a small bulge that popped up in time with his movements. "Y-yes so so deep" she whimpered, tears prickling up at the corners of her eyes from how good it felt.

He was rougher now, completely pulling out before slamming back into her harshly. Kylian gasped out every time his throbbing cock ground against the back of her slick walls. She was loving every moment of it, squeezing around his thick length.

"You're so fucking tight" he panted in between thrusts, his balls twitching at the feeling.

There was a pressure building that she had never felt before. She had had many orgasms in her life, but this was more intense. Bianca began to thrash around on the bed, the pressure overwhelming her in the best way. Kylian groaned as her walls clenched around him even tighter, his orgasm not too far away. "Daddy fuck, I can't."

Even in his lost mind, he understood what was happening so continued at his fast pace, bringing a hand to circle against her clit. Bianca's moans become more frequent and louder as she was at the brink of her edge, the strange pressure growing to be too much.

Kylian leaned down to her ear, his pace keeping at the same rate. "You've been such a good girl for me," he praised, watching her almost unravel underneath him.

"Come all over my cock, princess" he instructed, pressing down harder onto her clit.

Bianca screamed as a clear fluid gushed out of her, wetting Kylian's thighs and lower abs. "Fuck yes, baby. Keep coming all over, pretty girl" Kylian groaned as he fucked her through her orgasm.

Her nails racked down his back as she spasmed around his cock, her world stopping as she squirted all over her bed and lover. Bianca couldn't think about anything other than the dick pounding her, tears pouring down her face at the overwhelming euphoria. "Fuck Kylian" was all she managed to rasp out in between cries.

Kylian kissed her temple softly. "I know, baby. I know"

It took a good minute for the pleasure to finally fade, but her walls still shook around his hard length. Kylian was dangerously close, proud of himself for not coming instantly when he saw Bianca's orgasm.

A wet deeply erotic pop filled the room as Kylian pulled out of her soaking pussy; climbing on the bed and over Bianca with his dick still in his hands.

Bianca stuck her tongue out as Kylian towered over her, cupping his balls while he jerked himself off rapidly. As she went to wrap her mouth around his full length, Kylian held her hair tightly in place so she was hovering over his dick without being on it.

"Wanna give me a facial?" Bianca asked, batting her eyelashes up at him.

Kylian nodded, sweat dripping down from his forehead as he pulled at his cock. Bianca wanted to say whatever she needed to in order to get him there. "Gonna come for me, Daddy? Gonna paint me like the cumslut I am for you?" Bianca purred, sticking out her tongue once again.

He let out something in-between a cry and a grunt as his cock jerked wildly, spurting out his huge sticky load onto her face. Kylian tried to keep his eyes open to watch but couldn't, the pleasure almost bringing him down to the bed fully, knees wobbly.

"Merde" Kylian choked out as he dragged his length over Bianca's semen-stained cheek, using his own cum to jerk off for a little bit longer. After a minute he let out a relaxed breath as his body calmed down.

As soon as Bianca noticed his orgasm had washed away, she mouthed his oversensitive dick to lick up the white residue. Kylian winced loudly but let her clean up the mess, watching as she used her fingers to scoop the rest and swallow it. "You're an angel, Bianca" Kylian breathed out as he leaned down to kiss her, the taste of each other on their lips.

They lazily kissed for a few seconds before Kylian collapsed beside her. He pulled Bianca into his bare chest and let his breathing even out as his eyes closed exhaustedly. "Missed you so much" was the last thing Kylian said before dozing off completely. 

Bianca pressed a long kiss to his chest. "I missed you too" she murmured before falling into her own sleep.

Everything felt so serene, so right.

In times like these, it was easy to forget about the world waiting for them outside. It was just them. No distractions, no work, no worries. They slept peacefully for hours, not waking up for anything as they cradled each other's naked bodies. 

The bright sun has long since set, the tranquil moonlight allowing their fantasy to live out without the light reminding them of their real lives and responsibilities. 

All good things must come to an end at some point.

In the middle of the night, Kylian sat up abruptly, heart pounding in his chest. Bianca stirred next to him, awoken by the sudden movement. His hands scanned across the bed until they reached his phone. 

Kylian squinted at the bright light and tapped at the screen until it unlocked. "Shit.." he sighed as he looked down at the dozens of missed calls and texts.

Bianca didn't even know what to say, mind still foggy from sleep. Even if she hadn't just woken up she's not sure if she could come up with something better. "Is she mad?" she croaked out, voice grainy.

"She's pissed and worried. I should call her to let her know I'm okay" Kylian crawled out of bed and put on his boxers, leaving Bianca cold at the loss of his body warmth. 

Bianca frowned and watched him disappear into her living room- shutting the bedroom door behind him. Her heart swelled as tears welled up in her eyes, listening as Kylian apologized profusely and made up a web of lies about where he was.

It dawned upon her that no matter what moments they shared he wasn't hers. No matter how many times he caressed her and made her feel beautiful he would eventually go back to Camille. Why am I even upset? I'm the bitch here. I'm ruining their relationship not the other way around.

Kylian broke her out of her thoughts as the door creaked open. "I told her I'm just gonna come home from the office in a few hours after the rain eases up." He crawled back into his previous spot, pulling the blanket over him.

He glanced over to find a dazed Bianca staring up at the ceiling. "What's wrong?" He pinched her nose playfully to lighten the mood.

"Nothing, just tired" she lied, eyes now on him.

Kylian opened his arms widely. "Come here then." 

Her worries melted away as she was enveloped in his comforting embrace. Kylian's fingers scratched at her scalp as she drifted off again, Kylian following not too far behind her.

When Bianca woke up from her alarm buzzing loudly she was surprised to find her bed empty. Bianca threw on a robe as she searched for Kylian, but he was nowhere to be found. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a big paper bag on her kitchen counter. 

Bianca opened the bag to find a prepacked breakfast from a restaurant nearby with an old piece of paper on top with scribbled writing on it. Don't hate me, I didn't want to wake you up. I hope you enjoy your breakfast. See you at the office -K.M

She shook her head and pulled out the food, throwing the paper back into the bag. Back to reality.

Later that same day it was business as usual. Bianca giggled to herself all throughout the day, still riding on the high of last night's events. A couple of her coworkers pointed out that she seemed to be giddy today, but Bianca kept her lips sealed shut. 

"Good afternoon" Bianca's greeted as she heard the front door open, her eyes stayed glued to the computer, typing something into the documents.

When her eye's left the screen she was surprised to be met with a familiar face that she didn't want to see, especially not now. Camille stood with her arms crossed, dark circles rimming the bottom of her eyes. "Is Kylian here?" 

Bianca inhaled sharply. "Mr. Mbappé is up inside his office, yes," she confirmed dragging her eyes back onto her computer screen.

Camille headed off to the elevators but turned back on second thought. "Was Kylian really here last night? Did you see him leave with anyone else?" she asked, her tone dripping with worry.

Bianca tried to ignore the hundreds of thoughts coming at her at once, guilt heavy on her conscious. She tried to look casual as she clicked away at her keyboard. "He was here when I left, but that's all I know." 

Once again Camille headed to the elevators, this time not looking back.

As soon as the girl left, Bianca buried her head into her hands and groaned loudly. I'm becoming a horrible person.

-

𝔸/ℕ: 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘! 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕒𝕟 𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕀 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕤𝕠 𝕀'𝕞 𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤. 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕤𝕠 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕀 𝕜𝕖𝕡𝕥 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕝𝕠𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕒 𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕤 𝕙𝕒𝕙𝕒.

[tinyletterz]

♡ darling, i love you!— [ jamil ]

: five love languages with jamil :

♡— contains: gn! reader, fluff!!

— [ note: it just dawned on my that jamil and i have the same birthday, how did i miss this????? we're basically twins ]

—words of affirmation

a big one for him!! he'll act like it isn't that big of a deal because he's been praised all his life, but brushed it off to not out-shine kailm. but from you??? oh yeah sometimes his face might be impassive but his heart has exploded. other times you might even get to see jamil embarrassed and he'll hide his face from you. a simple, you're doing great! or an i'm proud of you is enough for him to fall in love with you all over again

—acts of service

he's always doing things for other people, and yet always has time to do things for himself too. but!! if he notices you doing something for him, like cleaning his sheets, reorganizing his homework, or doing some task kalim asked of him, jamil is just overwhelmed with gratitude. it makes his life less stressful, but hopefully you're not stressing yourself out by doing stuff for him. he may or may not scold you for doing something for him just because he's worried you're overworking yourself for him (jamil you need a break okay)

—receiving gifts

for him, it's the thought that counts. the gift doesn't have to be something expensive, it could just be a flower you saw on your way to class that reminded you of jamil. or a cooking utensil he's been telling you about that just so happened to show up on his bed a few days later. he tresures every gift you give him, not only because of what you got him, but because it's a gift from you

—quality time

spending time together is another thing jamil aboslutly adores. he's busy, you're busy, so if there's even five minutes you guys have together, jamil wants to spend it with you. cooking, talking about your days, reading to each other, it doesn't matter. days where he can't spend time with you in person he's always sending you a text, letting you know he is, asking if you need anything, or just telling you how much he cares about you. he just thinks it's nice that you can take time out of your schedule and share that time with him <3

—physical touch

rather shy when it comes to physical touch, but he melts into your touch every time. he loves it when you catch him off guard, because he's always on guard. if he's walking with you and you catch him off guard by holding his hand, he hopes you never let go. physical touch for jamil is just reassurance that you're still there and that you're not going anywhere. running your fingers through his hair while humming a forgotten tune lulls him into a light sleep.

[vodika-vibes]

Eternity

Summary: After being 'blessed' with Eternity on your 12th birthday, you're convinced that you're never going to find happiness. 500 years later, Kix disagrees.

Word Count: 3816

Pairing: Kix x Vampire!Reader

Warnings: None? I don't think. Maybe some angst

A/N: So...this was supposed to be a Sleeping Beauty story...and I guess I took some aspects of Sleeping Beauty? Maybe.

Divider by saradika

“Why are you here? You were not invited to this party!” Your father shouts to the violet clad woman standing under the flower arch that your uncle specifically made for your 12th birthday party.

The woman looks surprised, and then something cruel crosses her features, and you take a half step towards your father, “It’s alright, there’s food enough for everyone still.”

“No, it is not alright.” Your father says sternly, “It’s rude to show up uninvited.”

“It is more rude to kick someone out without first offering food and drink,” You counter as you lift your chin, “She came here to celebrate, father, the least we can do is allow her to do so.”

Your father’s face twists in rage, and he throws his hands up, and stalks away, “Do what you want.”

You exhale slowly, and then you quickly build a plate of some tasty treats and a glass of meade, and you head over to the strange woman, and you offer her both food and drink, “I apologize for my father. If things don’t go exactly according to plan he gets irritated.”

“You have my gratitude, little princess,” The woman replies as she takes the food and drink, “For both the food and drink, and for inviting me to stay.”

“Oh, no. It’s the very least I can do.” You reply with a bright smile up at the woman, “Your dress is beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a shade of purple so vibrant.” You add brightly.

The woman laughs, it’s a harsh noise that makes your hair stand on end, and you can’t help but feel like you’re walking on a very thin wire, with destruction looming on both sides. Though you’re nothing if not polite, so you keep a smile on your face, and you hide just how unsettled you are.

“You are far too kind, little Princess,” The woman says, once she’s calmed her laughter, her smile is sharp and you can’t help but notice that her lips look painted with blood, “Tell me, child, is your father always so angry?”

“I rarely see him without a scowl on his face,” You admit, “I he never speaks so much as yells. It’s why mother left.”

“And yet she didn’t take you with her?”

You keep the smile on your face through sheer force of will, even as the woman prods a still open wound on your heart, “Mother…mother did what she thought was best, I’m sure.”

“Hm…have you not seen her since she left, little one?”

Your face falls without your permission, “I’m sure she will. It’s…it’s still early. I’m sure my mother didn’t forget my birthday.” You say quietly.

The woman lightly touches your head, and you’re unable to stop your tremor. “Are you afraid, little one?”

“...you’re dangerous.” You whisper, “I don’t know how, or even why I think that. But you are.”

The woman smiles even wider, “You see much for one so young, little princess.” She coos, as her long nails trail against your cheek, “Your mother sent me here in her stead. She is sorry that she cannot come to you, little one, but she sends her love.”

“I miss her,” You whisper, “Father is so much angrier with her gone…”

“Do not fret so, little princess. All will be well. You’ll see.” Somehow, somehow that sounds like a threat, and you shudder as she taps you on the cheek with one long fingernail, “Now, go and enjoy your party.”

The woman vanishes into the crowd of adults, and somehow, even though you never looked away from her, you’re unable to see her again. You’re drawn from your anxious thoughts when your grandmother draws you into a conversation with one of her friends.

And though you don’t forget about the strange violet woman, you are able to put her out of your immediate anxieties for the next several hours. You get through the dinner, and the cake, and the presents (dresses and heels and jewelry designed for a woman, not a child), and it’s just before your father dismisses everyone from the party when the woman appears again.

She stands taller than everyone else at the party, somehow, though you’re sure that she was only a little bit taller than you when you first met her. Her hand flows like ink down her back, and, as you watch her, the violet designs on her gown shift and change, taking on different forms.

“Your Majesty,” She says, her voice smooth and cool, like cold water over stones, “You have not allowed me to give my gifts to the little princess.” She coos. She pins you in place with fathomless black eyes, and you want to scream, to run, to hide…but your muscles seize and you can’t move.

“I suppose, since you did bring a gift.” Your father grumbles, as he places his hand on your shoulder.

“Oh no, your majesty. I said gifts, not gift.” The woman replies, her smile sharp as a blade, “First, to the Little Princess,” She walks over to you, and presses a light finger against your forehead, “I grant you the gift of eternity.” 

Pain lances through you, starting at the top of your head and working down to your feet. Your legs give out on you, and you fall to your knees, and you hear screaming…screaming you realize is coming from you.

Everything becomes too loud, the scents become too strong, and you’re so cold…like you’ve never been warm a day in your life, and you’ll never be warm again.

“What did you do to my daughter!?” Your father demands, his hand is on your back and you just sob because everything hurts so, so much. It feels like millions of white hot knives are piercing your skin where your father is touching you.

“I granted her eternity,” The woman says cruelly. “She’ll age for another 10 years…and then she’ll stop, and she’ll be 22 forever.” There’s a pause, and then a quiet laugh, “Tell me, Your Majesty, have you never heard of Vampires?”

“That’s impossible,” Your Grandmother says sharply from where she’s smoothing your hair out of your face, “Everyone knows that a Vampire stops aging the moment they’re turned. You said-”

“Yes, yes. I just found the idea of being eternally 12 completely repulsive.” The violet woman replies blithely, “Now, where was I?” You manage to look up at the woman, even as you lean heavily against your grandmother.

“We’ll find a cure, sweetheart.” Your father promises, his voice ringing loudly in your ears.

There’s a snap, “Oh, yes. The second part! How foolish of me.”

“If you think I’m going to allow you anywhere near my daughter-”

“Oh. No, no. This second gift isn’t for her,” The Dark Woman says with a laugh, “It’s for everyone else.” There’s a moment of silence, “You’re not going to help the Little Princess, your majesty. No one is. For you will no longer be living.”

There’s a swell of magic that makes your skin prickles, and then the screams start. All across the garden party, men and women scream as vines burst from the ground, twinning around them. You get thrown back by a pair of massive vines as they twine around your father and grandmother, and you watch, horrified, as slowly the people start turning into plants.

It happens in a matter of seconds.

And the next thing you know, you’re alone in the garden with the Dark Woman, “There,” She says, “Perfect.”

And then she casts her gaze to you, you’re so weak you’re barely able to move, and pain still races through your body, but even so you try to push yourself up to a sitting position. “Hm…the transformation is going to take a few days…and I don’t want to have to deal with you…” 

She grabs your shoulder harshly, and then there’s a weird sensation of falling before you’re thrown onto a stone floor. “I bring a gift, your lordship,” The Dark Woman crows.

“A child?” A deep male voice questions, “I have no desire for any childre-” He stops mid-sentence, “What have you done?” His voice is silky smooth, and somehow hurts less than the woman’s voice.

“I turned her…well, in a manner of speaking.”

There’s a snarl of fury, and the dark woman takes half a step back, and you feel a surge of dark glee, “You turned a child?”

“She will age over the next ten years,” the Dark Woman promises, “She’ll stop aging at 22 years old, but she is one of you.”

There’s the sound of heels on stone, and gentle hands pull you into a lap, “Husband, you have granted this witch far too much freedom,” A woman says quietly, before gentle fingers card through your hair, “It’s going to be alright, dear one. We’ll take care of you. You’re family now.”

You turn your head into the smooth silk of the woman’s gown, and you hear much heavier footsteps, “You are quite right, my dear.” The man says, his voice low, “It looks like I have to set this right.”

Strong arms slide under you, and you find yourself secure in the arms of the woman who was comforting you, “Then, I leave you to your business, husband. I must tend to our new child.”

You drift off to sleep when you hear a door click open, and then shut behind you. The last thing you hear before sleep totally claims you, is the soft voice of the woman carrying you, “Fret not, little one. That woman will never harm another person.”

******************

It’s been 500 years since the day you were turned, and you’re comfortable with the life you lead. You’re happy enough, you suppose, if not a little bit lonely.

You remained with your mother and father for several decades, while you got the hang of the whole vampire thing, but you’ve been wandering on your own for over 400 years since then.

You tend to move every 20 years out of necessity, though you’ve never hidden what you are from the people around you. It just gets tiring, watching the people around you age, and die, while you remain the same.

Plus, no one ever mentions the boredom of eternity.

Over the last 400 years you’ve been a lawyer, a singer, a writer, a musician, a blacksmith, a detective, a teacher…and everything in between. You’ve learned instruments, art, and crafts and- well, eternity is a very long time, after all.

This time, you’ve decided to be a doctor. You went to school and you took the classes and you got the degree, and now…here you are, working the night shift at a hospital in Mandalore.

Mandalore which used to be the Kingdom of Sirid…your father’s kingdom.

Not that anyone remembers Sirid…mother told you once that it was a continuation of the Dark Woman’s curse. She also mentioned that maybe it was a good thing. After all, no one is going to hunt down the princess of a kingdom that they don’t remember existed.

For what little it’s worth, you actually like Mandalore, and you hold no malice towards the Royal Family. But then, you have had 500 years to deal with this.

Your gaze drifts towards the palace, lit up even though it’s nearly midnight, and you sigh as you tilt your head back, your eyes closing. The breeze feels nice against your skin, even though you don’t get hot anymore. 

You hear the door click open, and light footfalls on the tiled roof. They hesitate a moment, and then continue towards you with slightly more purpose. “Enjoying the view, Baar’ur?”

You hum thoughtfully, and turn your head to regard the man standing next to you, “It is a nice view.” You admit, “But no, I’m enjoying the breeze.”

“It is a nice night,” Kix agrees as he leans against the railing next to you, his gaze locked on your face, “Hard night?” He asks.

“No harder than usual. Some people are funny about having someone like me working on them.” You add with a wry smile.

“Then they’re dumb,” Kix replies, “You’ve probably forgotten more than anyone in this hospital knows.”

You laugh quietly, “Well, I am very old.”

“Not that old.”

“I’m over 500 years old, Kix.” You remind him.

He grins at you, “Yeah, like I said.”

You laugh and turn so you’re leaning against the railing as well, “I suppose, in the grand scheme of things, I’m not that old.”

“Exactly. How old is your…ah…sire?”

“Oh, well over 2000. But I’m more his-his foundling,” You explain, “I wasn’t turned like normal vampires. I was ‘blessed’ with Eternity.”

“Doesn’t sound like much of a blessing,” Kix replies dryly.

“Mm. It’s not. But I make due.” You tilt your head back and look up at the stars, “Oh, was there something you needed Kix?” You ask.

“Wanted to make sure you’re alright.” He admits after a moment of silence, “That family wasn’t very nice to you.”

“They’re allowed. People still tell horror stories about my people…and with good reason. We’re not exactly safe, Kix.” You point out.

“You’ve never hurt a person in your life,” Kix replies, “I’m sure of it.”

“How can you know?” You ask, amusement clear in your voice.

“I’m pretty good at reading people.” He says easily, “And I don’t see you ever willingly hurting another person, even if you can.”

You laugh softly, “500 years, and you're the first person to ever be able to read me like that.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his grin takes on a smug air.

“Don’t be smug, Kix. It’s not a good look.” You sniff as you bump him with your shoulder.

“Everything I do is a good look,” He corrects as he bumps you back, allowing his shoulder to linger against you, “Because I’m gorgeous.”

“And so very modest.” You add dryly.

“Modesty is overrated,” Kix says loftily, though his grin fades slightly, “I’m really the first person in 500 years to be able to read you?”

You shrug, “Yeah. I was pretty good at shielding my true thoughts before I was turned, and then it became easier after.”

“You’ve had friends before though.”

“Sure. And then they grow up, get old, die…and I have to start over again. New place, new friends…still no one actually knew me.” You watch him for a moment, something achingly sad in your eyes, “Not like you, at least.”

“Sounds lonely.” Kix says after a moment, something like longing in his voice.

You exhale slowly, and turn your gaze back towards the sky, “You get used to it. You can get used to anything.” You close your eyes for a moment, and then straighten, “Alright, time for me to get back to work, I’m afraid. I’ll talk to you later, Kix.”

“Yeah. See you then.” Kix replies, sounding slightly distracted.

You finish your shift with little trouble, the majority of people who come to the hospital know that there’s a vampire on the staff and they don’t have a problem with it.

And once you hand over your patients to the dayshift doctor, you head to the locker room and pull on the protective clothing that shields you from the sun, and you leave for the day.

You make a stop at the markets, to pick up your weekly order of blood, sent by your mother, and then you head home.

The blood goes in the fridge, to keep it fresh, and then you feed your tooka, and finally you hop in the shower, to wash the hospital off of your skin, and finally you slide into bed. Thick black-out curtains keep the sun from even creeping into your room, and so you’re able to sleep peacefully without having to worry about any burns.

It’s later, much later, that day when you finally wake up and start your day.

It’s your night off, which means you’ll spend the evening doing all sorts of random things. You have the recording from the mid-day Yoga classes that you prefer, and then you can work on your tapestry for an hour or two…

You’re about to start your recording, when there’s a knock on the door. You glance at the chrono (a gift from a wizard, which shows exactly where the sun is located at that specific point in time) and you walk over to the door and open it a crack, making sure to keep yourself behind the door.

You blink in surprise at the man standing at your door, “Kix?”

“Hey,” He grins at you, “Can I come in?” You open the door a little more and let him into your home, “I brought some food, I know you don’t get anything from it, but you can still taste it, right?”

You shut the door once he’s inside, “I can, so long as it’s spicy. Or sweet.” You motion for him to move further into your home, “Sorry for the mess, I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Yeah, well…I wanted to surprise you.” Kix replies as he steps over your Tooka, “Is that a tapestry?”

“Yeah, I’ve been working on it for over 150 years now. And I’m not done yet.” You explain as you push the tapestry back to where it belongs. “It’s going to be epic when I do finish it though.”

Kix follows you into the kitchen, and sets the bags of food on the table, and watches as you hurry around grabbing plates and utensils, and he smiles when you pull a bottle of water out of the fridge for him, “You keep stuff in the house for other people?”

“Yeah, of course. Not a lot though.” You admit as you set everything on the table, and then slide into one of the chairs, “I am surprised to see you, though. I would think that you’d want to spend your free time with your brothers.”

“I spent plenty of time with them,” Kix says easily, “I wanted to spend time with you.” His gaze drifts around the room, lingering on the hundreds of pictures of you and different people, “So…any of those pictures of you with a boyfriend?” He asks.

You laugh and shake your head, “No. No boyfriends.”

“Girlfriend, then.” Kix teases gently.

“No, no girlfriend either.”

“Wait, so, you’re telling me that at 500 years old, you’ve never had a romantic partner?” Kix asks, surprised.

“Nope, never.” You serve the food, allowing Kix to take the majority, “I mean, it’s not like I’ve not considered it. It just…it doesn’t seem very fair, you know?”

“Not really.” He replies.

“Right,” You shake your head, “I’m going to stay 22…forever. I’m never going to grow old. So if I enter relationships, I’m destined to have to watch them die. And they have to watch me stay the same, forever.”

“You’re right. That doesn’t sound very fair,” Kix murmurs quietly, “Have you considered turning your partner?”

“...I don’t think you realize just how long forever is, Kix.” You point out.

“Sure I do. Forever is forever. I get that. But wouldn’t forever be better with a partner. Someone you know, you trust?” 

“Until he grows to resent me for taking his life from him? Or he decides that he’s not that interested in me?” You shake your head.

Kix taps a rhythm on the table, and then he stands and turns your chair so it’s not facing the table and he moves his chair so that when he sits, his knees are pressed tightly against yours, and then he takes your cold hands in his, “Do you know why I go out of my way to talk to you every time I see you?” He asks as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles.

You flash the smallest smile, “I have a pretty good idea,” You admit.

“Hm. Not good enough. I do this because I am completely in love with you. With everything about you.” Kix says, “I love how kind you are, even to people who hate you for what you are. I love how patient you are with people who are afraid and lashing out.”

“Kix-”

He releases one of your hands and lightly brushes his thumb against your cheek, and then over your lips, “You’re so beautiful,” Kix murmurs, “And it’s not just physical beauty, though you have that in spades too. That’s not what caught my eye first.”

“What do you-?”

“My first day at the hospital, you greeted me with a smile. You explained who you are, and what you are, and you gave me the grand tour. You were so kind to me, to everyone that crossed your path.” Kix explains, “And we ran across a man who hurled nothing but abuse at you, and you handled him so gently and so caringly, that he broke down sobbing. You said, ‘we have to see people on what might very well be the worst day of their lives, we can afford a little kindness’.”

“...I said that?” You ask.

“You did,” Kix answers, “And I fell in love with you at that moment.”

You stare at him, your eyes wide.

“And every day after that, I fall in love a little bit more. With every story you tell, with every word you speak, with every action you take.”

“Kix…”

“I want eternity with you.” Kix says seriously, “I’ve thought about it, I’ve spoken to my brothers about it. And eternity won’t be terrible if I’m walking it with you.” He pauses for a moment, and a wry smile crosses his face, “I also really, really want to kiss you.”

You laugh softly, and his other hand comes up to cradle your face. “How about we make a deal?”

“What kind of deal?” Kix asks.

“Two years.” You say as your hands come up to cradle his face, and he almost purrs at the feel of your hands against his skin, “Give me two years as my boyfriend, and if, at the end of two years, you still feel the same, then I will agree to turn you.”

He thinks about it for a minute, and then his gaze snaps to your face, “Deal. Two years. But, cyare, I’m not going to change my mind.”

“So you say,” You reply with a small smile.

His smile becomes soft, and he leans in and very gently presses his lips against yours. And then he kisses you again and again, each kiss becoming more heated than the last.

Until he pulls you onto his lap and tangles his hands in your hair, and crashes his lips against yours like he needs your lips against his to breathe. And the food remains on the table, forgotten by the both of you.

**********

Two years and six months later, you finally fulfill your promise to turn him, two days after the start of your honeymoon.

[evansblues]

" Is there anything we can do to help manifest what Red Flower predicts for Chris? I can picture this wonderful future for him, but I can also see him getting scared and taking the easy road again, seduced by the enemy he knows. Anything we can do to send positive energy his way since he seems to be surrounded by soul leaches? Thanks! "

🦋

Red Flower here,

I want to start for a message for the collective : You can send prayers and positive energy if you want, it can help and it also elevate the vibration of the situation, but you have to understand that the universe is perfect and what we see now, is his divine purpose that he is following. I asked if everything was perfect in this plan and the answer was positive.

Chris is going through a great awakening coupled with a night of the soul at the same time. Since he's been putting off work for a long time. I had an analogy with RDJ. Few people remember what this man went through, but he was in hellish limbo. He did a lot of drugs, was put in prison for many years before he understood his divine purpose. Today, he's one of the world's most respected actors, married to a stable woman, with children… Everything was perfect. It all depends on the karma you came to this Earth with.

We don't remember it, but we sort of signed up for the obstacles that were put in our way. We are souls living a human experience to learn. Learn what? Unconditional love. This is the goal of all human beings. To recognize and live unconditional love. Some learn it with their partner or friendship, but also parenthood… Through their work too. Artists are the catalysts of divine light. Remember how you feel when you hear music you love, and see how you vibrate. It's the same with a film. When you watch a good film that has brought you comfort or strong emotions…That's why I said in my previous posts that the industry is going to change. There are too many parasites preventing humanity from elevating itself through art, and putting money before magic.

What's going to be hard for Chris isn't really now, but afterwards. After this lamentable show is over and he realizes what a mess it's all been. He'll realize: What's the point of making movies when no one can see you anymore without feeling disgust ?

He is no longer in the good graces of his fans, nor of the public. But strangely enough, that's where he'll find freedom. He won't have to feed the Captain America image, and he can finally come into his own and make bold choices. He'll once again see his profession as an art form, and no longer as a means of making more money to finance his harmful lifestyle. He will be helped by a man - I don't know who exactly, but it's someone in the industry who will encourage him to surprise both the public and himself. His wife will also be a major creative force in his life, and he'll do everything to earn her admiration.

Once again, he chose to learn in the most efficient way to prevent him from screwing up. From what I gather, this has to do with his past lives. He's screwed up a lot in past lives and he doesn't want to sacrifice this one. That's why his lessons are violent but benevolent nonetheless. They're just public, and therefore degrading, as we witness his humiliation, but this will change him for the better. He needs it. He needs to be at the bottom of the hole to see the light.

Thanks for reading.

Namaste. Infinite Gratitude. :)

Remember, for every light, there is an equal and opposite darkness to balance it out, and we must experience them all together in order to be whole. 

[betweenthings2]

love love love your writing! the first thing of yours I read was Second Letter From St Julien and I’ve reread it multiple times. sending you colossal amounts of love, appreciation, applause, gratitude, warmth, flowers, confetti hearts… and a request for prompt 19 (for luck) please? <3

Thank you!! I'm so glad you liked St. Julien! I wrote it at the beginning of my semester abroad (also when I saw The 1975 for the first time) and I was lonely and super anxious and listening to a lot of Sorority Noise which is partly why it's so sad, but it was inspired in part by a piece of writing I found on Pinterest of all places rather along with the Sorority Noise song I took the title from.

Anyway, here's A Kiss...for luck.

Matty isn't entirely sure what to do with himself. They're about to be back on stage for the first time in almost a year, for the first time since he fucked it all up, and he is painfully, upsettingly sober. There's no weed, no wine, no nothing, just nicotine, but nicotine feels a whole lot like oxygen for him a this point, and his hands are shaking, and he's going to make a fool of himself, again, he's going to make fools out of all of them, again, if he can't get it together, because shaking hands fumble chords and oh, god, this is about to be a disaster.

Matty is aware that he's spiraling. He's been spiraling a lot more lately, forced to always be in his own head. Just one, he thinks. Just one hit, one drink, one pill and he'd be fine. He doesn't want to relapse--he's done that and the guilt and misery is just about more than he can handle--he just wants, needs, something to make this easier. He hasn't been on stage in almost a year, but prior to that, he hadn't been on stage sober in years. He knows everyone around him knows that, but he knows it too much now and why had he told everyone he needed a few minutes on his own? He doesn't know how to dig himself out of these spirals on his own.

It would be easy to ask for someone to come be with him. It would be easy because he knows that someone, everyone, is on the other side of the dressing room door, because everyone had taken one look at his restless pacing and shaking hands and decided that if he really needed his alone time, he could have it in a dressing room with someone on the other side of the door in case. In case. Matty hates that phrase, hates that it gets applied to him, hates that everyone thinks he needs a fucking babysitter in case.

Finally, finally, finally, when Matty thinks he's actually about to go crazy, George knocks on the door and come in. Thank god for George. His gaze lands on Matty, in his frantic, spiraling, pacing and he softens and closes the door softly behind him.

Gently, he says, "Matty."

"I'm ok," Matty chokes out. "I'm fine, I'm sober, we're gonna play a show. I'm ok."

"C'mere," George says.

Matty does as George asks, practically collapsing against his chest and letting out a very long breath when George hugs him.

"There ya go," George murmurs. "Everything's ok."

"It's not ok. I'm not ok. We haven't been on stage in, like, a year and I haven't been on stage sober in actual years and my hands won't stop shaking and you had someone standing outside the door in case I decide to take off and I don't need a fucking babysitter, except that maybe I kind of do, and-"

"Matty," George cuts in shifting so he can look Matty in the eye, "you're spiraling."

"I know that," Matty mutters, gaze falling to the floor. Still, someone else having said it takes some of the wind from his sails and he manages another deep breath. "I can't help it."

"How can I help?" George asks.

Matty shrugs and repeats, "I haven't been on stage sober in years."

George nods, leaving space for Matty to continue.

"What if I'm shit? What if everything falls apart?"

"We kept things together when you were high out of your mind. I've got faith in you. Have some faith in me, too. Have some faith in Ross and Hann."

Matty takes a hitched breath, like he might start crying, and says, "I don't know how to do it like this."

"You know the songs. You wrote those songs. We made those songs, you and me. You know them."

"That's not what I mean. I mean that I don't know how to be on stage sober. I don't know how to have all those people looking at me." Matty pauses, then continues, "When I was using, they were looking at me, but they weren't looking at me, they were looking at a fucking mess. Now it's just me and if I fuck it up it's because I'm a fuck up."

"You're not a fuck up, Matty. How many times have I made mistakes on stage? Ross? Hann?"

Matty shrugs, petulant. Part of him wants to hide here, feeling sorry for himself.

"We all make mistakes all the time," George continues. "No one notices. I promise you no one notices."

Matty doesn't say anything. George is right.

"It's gonna be ok. You're gonna be great. You are great."

"'s just," Matty pauses. "I'm supposed to be better now. I'm supposed to be all better and just fine, but I don't really feel all better." There's another pause, then, "I'm afraid I can't do this anymore."

"You're the only person who doesn't believe you can do this," George tries. "I know you can do this, but if it turns out you need more time or something needs to change, then we'll make it happen, but you don't know until you try, right?"

Matty nods and echoes, "Right."

And George smiles, brilliant, and asks, "You ready then?"

Matty nods, so George guides him towards the door of the dressing room, pausing just before he opens it to lean down and kiss Matty hard.

"You're gonna be great," George promises when they separate slightly.

Matty nods slightly again, so they head out of the dressing room and towards the stage. Just before they go on, Matty pulls George in for one more kiss, and explains, "For luck," when they separate.

It's a good show.

[solomons-poison]

The year is 2024 and I am currently sitting in my bedroom re-reading the Motonari Mouri piece you wrote for me for what seems like ages ago (It's been twelve days xD). First of all, I find it impressive how you were able to summarize the relationship in the game into the first paragraph OAO I'm already on someone else's route (whispers Kanetsugu Naoe :3) but reading that brought back all the memories of when I first played his route (you literally gave me an anime flashback lol).

My fav non dialogue line would have to be 'You tried to fight the smile that was tugging at your lips, but of course your sharp-eyed lover could see through it'. (Excellent use if micro expressions :D!) Which was then immediately followed by one of my fav dialogue lines ("What ideas do you have growin' in that flower garden of yours, huh?") It also made me laugh out loud because you got his vernacular down pat >w<!

Best moments in my opinion are when each person is showing care towards the other (reassurance/reaffirming boundaries and gratitude/offering an act of service in return). The bathing process was very interesting to digest (I was surprised to see mention of rice water but the more I think on it, the more it makes sense… if that makes sense XD?) Omg, the kiss scene swoons >A<~ Thank you again for writing this Tarren ;w; It was a beautifully intimae (and steamy) snapshot that I would fully believe you if you said it actually happened in a side story or limited event because it was so in character and your writing is more than on par with the OG writers of the game :'> hugs Hope 2024 brings you everything you want in life <3

Lynn I am SOBBING cause your feedback is always so incredibly sweet 😭😭

I am so glad you liked it!! I had to do some research about what people used in place of shampoo in ancient Japan and most resources cited camellia oil and rice water, which I found very interesting! But the reasoning behind it made sense, so I thought I'd incorporate it for a touch of realism lmao.

One of my favorite things to write is expressions, because a person's expression can say a lot about something. And Motonari can be really observant, especially when he's feeling nervous, so I feel like he'd be watching everything carefully out of instinct.

Haha I'm glad you liked the flower garden line. Since it's one of the things he says the most to MC, I figured I had to stick it in there somewhere. I do like Motonari a lot, he is a tough character to warm up to but I did enjoy his route a lot (and your prompt actually put me in the mood to read his route again, I'm currently halfway through!). But sometimes I feel a little shaky on his mannerisms and what he may like or dislike. But I knew touch was his biggest thing that he had difficulty with in his route (asides from general trust issues), so I wanted to give him something fluffy and reassuring.

I'm very happy that you enjoyed it, and thank you as always for your sweet words and taking the time to send me your thoughts about what I wrote, it means so much to me! May you have an amazing 2024 that brings you much good luck and joy!

[sagnaevi]

"If you're going to laugh, I am going to leave, with or without my clothes," Yingxing spoke as he sat on the bed in nothing but a very nice jockstrap that showed off a clear bulge and the hitman's firm cheeks. Yes, he had sneaked into Jing Yuan's home and yes, he had made himself nice and cozy on the big bed, but only because he wanted to surprise the policeman. What could he say? He wanted to do something for Jing Yuan. A red tint could be seen upon the fair cheeks as crimson depths gazed slightly off to the side. He really wasn't used to do this, without some lengthy mental preparation first. This might not be the most romantic move, but at least it was much better than simply sending Jing Yuan a text. Also... he had actually brought food with him, but that was for later and also, left a beautiful bouquet of flowers upon the male's kitchen table.

✧ ┊ ❛ 𝗩𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗲'𝘀 𝗗𝗮𝘆 ᴺᵒᵗ ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗⁱⁿᵍ / @iiryoku

❛ Haha, I would never laugh at you, dear Yingxing. ❜ Jing Yuan reassured with a warm chuckle, an emote that -to the ears of a stranger- sounded contradictionary to his words. But those who knew Jing Yuan as a person would know that his soft laughs were never to mock another. Indeed, he would never laugh at the criminal's attempts at romance, no matter how crude or refined. Yingxing did not do things like this often, it would be foolish to take such a gesture for granted and make a joke out of it. Golden depths lingered upon the cheeky gift upon his king-sized bed; appreciative, hungry like a predator with a prey in it's sights. With his strong and capable hands, Jing Yuan began to - slowly - undress from the many layers of his police attire; all the while never taking his keen gaze off the man before him. One by one, the buttons of his suit were undone, revealing a slim-fitted t-shirt underneath. ❛  I saw the flowers on the kitchen table, Yingxing. A very romantic gesture of you, for which you have my appreciation and gratitude. ❜ The fondness in his voice should emphasise his honesty. It had truly been a sweet thing of the Hitman to do, but the truth was that it was not quite as sweet as that pretty blush upon the shelf of Yingxing's cheeks. He knew this was a sensitive thing for the Hitman, uncharted territory, so to speak. Just for me, is that right, Yingxing? Had Jing been a cat, then he would have purred at the sight of the younger male's exposed body. Exposed and perfectly built body, with a nice bulge as the icing on the cake. Jing rolled off the tshirt; exposing his own broad and defined muscles, before tossing the fabric aside. Then, he let loose the ponytail which held his hair in check; releasing the white locks so it framed his face like a lion's wild mane. Approaching the bed, Jing positioned himself by the bedside, right next to the wanted criminal. Putting his phone on silent and setting aside his wristwatch, Jing then unbuckled the belt around his waist, and unzipped his trousers, which revealed just how much he enjoyed this little break in on this romantic day. His member had reacted quite niecly to the near naked sight of Yingxing, and the tip had left a damp spot against his underwear. Should he feel ashamed of his shameless reaction? Maybe, but he didn't. Instead he would take great pleasure in this little game of theirs, and indulge Blade this evening.

❛ It's a crime to enter another's home uninvited. Whatever should I do with you, hm? ❜

[carmenthabaddie]

Intentional with my time 💖💖💖

Today I wore a yellow long dress with flowers. I bought it few years ago from Rainbows. I love that store as a plus size woman. It can be hit and miss but you can’t beat affordable prices.

2024 I am being intentional with my time. The truth is time waits for no one. I learned this hard way in my 20s. I wish I knew what I know at 31. But that’s behind me. I must make peace with dropping the ball during my 20s. I had no real feminine hypergamy examples around me.

I actually started my level up glow up femininity hypergamy journey at 25. But was still naïve, immature, and didn’t know what I know. I wasn’t serious at 25 late 20s like I’m serious at 31 early 30s. It’s like I’m playing catch up. But it’s better to play catch up than to never start this level up glow up journey.

I also didn’t have this spiritual ability. I am so thankful I have strong spiritual ability where spirit and beautiful black communicate through me. It’s on my list to get medium reading to see which spirits and black ancestors channel through me. So glad I took out birth control and spiritual ability developed.

It’s my time to shine. My January gym sessions scheduled in my digital planner. And this pre booking beauty appointments. And my grandma is in New York while she is gone my step dad spoils me with takeout and I’m not giving it up. So I will look at restaurants menu and calories and pick in the middle food choices and enjoy my step dad spoiling me at my favorite restaurants and me not pay. Because that’s what men are for. He like my only example of a man financially providing for house and being a leader and provider.

I’m blessed to have him as good example and father figure. And giving me the option to be a stay at home daughter and working being option not requirement and my money being mine and no major bills where I can save money and follow my dreams and have hobbies. I am shopping addict. First step is acknowledging your bad habit and creating a plan and correcting bad habit and replacing it with good habit. And being realistic and not cold turkey. It’s small but I saved $100 on Cashapp savings. And refuse to touch it like I normally do.

Hard pill to swallow I learned bad money habits from my caretaker parent my adopted mom my grandma she goes through money and nothing to show for and pass on to love ones. Thankfully she has life insurance. She been on medicaid , ebt and public housing and have a lack poverty  mindset and it’s all I saw.

So at im acknowledging my bad money management skills habits. Save today and wait for tomorrows pleasure. I felt so good saving $100 and what it can grow. I created a budget in note section of iPhone. And I pay my bills with gratitude 🙏. I’m thankful I have money period and more money is coming. Spirit and black ancestors sending me a financial blessing cause I bless black women in need and I currently don’t have much.

But at end of day you can’t tell me I’m not abundant. I know I’m abundant and I’m a money magnet and money grows on trees for me. I have a good relationship with money now. I can’t wait for my sp David match my importance of financial security for us and our 3 future kids. Pass on good money management with my future 3 kids.

I need spend less on mindlessly spending. And pay my two credit cards off and Affirm bill and student loans. I’m thankful my debt is small than others. Spend less on subscriptions and groceries and makeup and wigs.

I’m use the clothes I have now till I’m doing better financially and same for wigs, shoes, makeup, and skincare. Let step dad help me afford beauty treatments to keep my appearance up.

Yesterday I had like consultation coaching session with Destiny the confident hoe. And told her all my movement and how I’m off social media and intentionally using social media for good, fame and money. I can log out and it not control me. Seeing therapist tomorrow. And law of assumption coach I believe on Sunday. I have invested time and money on my level up and glow up and it’s worth it and making shit manifest faster.

So many making ideas and affirming for money so I can invest in businesses and side hustles and free money. 2024 I’m focused, putting action, faith in myself, spirit and beautiful black ancestors. Step dad treating me to Asian Habachi. Today I posted content and need edit productivity vlog for YouTube. Thank you for those who read and share my blog post. Affirming for hella followers. Until next time be well.

[thewingedmuse]

(a) Danielle, or D.A

(b) She/they

(c) Romantic, as I've had abusive relationships and people cheating on me, so I want to have a glimpse of my love life :')

(d) I feel like love is just caring for someone to the point that you feel their pain, happiness, sadness, and anger, and find yourself resonating and compiling with it... someone who's there for the whole rollercoaster, whether its romantic, platonic, friendship, or any other type of love

ofc I'll give feedback, and have a wonderful day!

Hello! Thank you for joining Your Entwined Bonds! Hope you're well 🐚 ✨

Danielle, your soul is graceful and swan-like. She has soft brown skin, doe-like brown eyes, dark hair and very bright aura. She is ethereal. The brightness of her aura isn't blinding but soft, like how the morning sun could be seen in its full radiance from behind lace curtains. Her energy feels like clam shells and pearls, it also reminds me of fresh cream and lace with how soft, smooth and fragrant her energy is. She has a very soft and gentle voice with a melodious quality. She has elegant demeanor, and when speaking she would nod her head and smile softly.

I asked if I could tap into her essence in order to give you more knowledge about her. She agreed. She was originally a creature borne by the lake, like an elemental being. There were vibrant red and pink flowers growing by the lake which she very much enjoyed. With time she gained a sense of self from being by the lake absorbing its natural essence. This is the origin of how she came to be.

Your soul's message to you

"Tell her I said hello. Tell her the world outside is tough, and to trust herself. Trust in your abilities even if you doubt. Find your inner balance. If anything, you're capable enough."

After your soul has imparted her message, I asked if she could lead the way to your romantic soulmate who missed you the most. She agreed, and gestured forward.

I bowed to her in gratitude, and walked along the direction she showed me. I didn't know where I was going but before long I came across a guy.

He has dark brown skin. Seems a bit goofy with his mannerisms because he has very expressive body language that shows just what he's thinking. He has a patient, casual voice that relaxes you and makes you laugh. His build looks between athletic and average, he's quite tall with broad shoulders. He looked lost and confused lol. He stopped walking when he saw me.

"Uh do you know what you're doing here?" I asked him.

"Yeah I'm," he said while looking back at your soul's direction. "I'm called for an interview?"

"Yeah, you're Danielle's soulmate right?"

"Yeah that's right."

"Would you like to tell Danielle your name?"

He told his name which I'll send to you in private. Names hold power and it's best not to share it in public.

As this conversation progressed like an interview, my questions would be in highlight.

What do you think about the past lives you shared with Danielle?

"They were challenging but introspective, we learned things about each other that we otherwise wouldn't be able to. Multi-perspective."

What's your perfect day like?

"Out spending time with myself, kayaking, camping under the stars, just doing my own thing. Might bring my dog. Ask Danielle to join me, if she will," he said those last three words softly, tenderly.

What's your favourite memory in your past lives with Danielle?

"Making popcorn, I remember it popped so hard it got onto her," he laughed. "Watching TV, movie nights. Holding hands. Her walking in front of me, it's like I could see only her, man. It's like she's a whole new world opening up to me and I could barely take my eyes off her. She's that special. And her being herself, throwing some tantrums. My baby and I always make up the very next day. Couldn't keep our hearts apart. I guess that's what love makes you."

How long ago was the popcorn past life?

"Very long ago, when we used to cook popcorn, when TV wasn't even in colour."

What movies did you both enjoy?

"Shark movies. Ophelia, there was a while where she particularly enjoyed Hamlet too."

What are the memories you believe Danielle needs to remember about her past lives with you?

"Remember the lessons we learned from it so that it won't be repeated."

What lessons did you learn from your past lives with her?

"That it's OK to just be alone. It's OK to do your own thing and not mind what others say."

What lessons do you think Danielle learned from her past lives with you?

"Not blame herself. Not carry that self blame and self doubt, or self hatred in her heart. Sometimes she gave in too much. She gave too much of herself away."

What is the common theme in your past lives with Danielle?

"Sharing each other's burdens. Camaraderie. We get each other. We know each other. We are like that missing jigsaw puzzle. We support each other." There were some lives in which you were not a couple but very close friends and you shared this kind of dynamic too.

Will you be meeting Danielle as your present incarnation?

"I certainly hope so," he said. Though he fears there would be a problem with time, like right place wrong time kind of thing. He said things like this cannot be predicted or controlled, you just live with it.

What is your present incarnation like?

"Unique, struggling to either fit it or stand out because he's so different from the others, alienated, has issues about self presentation and he just needs to figure it out with time and maturity because maturity is gathered with experience and insight." He could have a future as a performer or artist, it's his talent. He struggles with his own gender though, curious about being more female-leaning.

What message do you have for Danielle?

"It's OK to be alone. Seek help if you need. Don't be like bottled up." He really wished that you would ask for help when you need and not be averse to approaching others too.

What do you wish you could have done or done more with Danielle in your past lives?

"Cook food, try out new recipes, experiment with wild things, just totally let ourselves go, chase dreams,go on a yacht ride, go crazy!"

What are your parting words with Danielle?

He would like to sing you a lullaby so you'd sleep and that's how he's gonna slip away while you're sleeping peacefully. He wants you to know that the next time you see stars notice how bright they are because that's how much love he has for you. "Goodbye," he said, waving gently.

That's it! I hope this reading gave you insight, warmth and many happy feelings. Please remember to give feedback! Take care! Have a lovely day and a restful night.

[xamassed]

⟬ @bucketfullofocs ⟭

[Aya @ Tai] She'd been too embarrassed to actually present it to him person. Instead, she left the small gift at his office, along with a note.

I hope you like it. It's a little embarrassing, but I like making these and thought it might brighten up your office or home. - Aya

Beside the note, a flower crown made with hand-made silk flowers so that the blooms would never fade. Amaryllis, yellow Camellia, Gardenia, and yellow tulip blooms blended together to make a bright and happy looking crown. It was clear it had been made with care, each false-bloom delicately woven amongst the others so that it would never come loose.

At first, the gifts she thoughtfully left behind had the pro-hero's heart doing a wild tap dance inside his chest. They were hardly the only gifts sent, given how appreciated he was, but it was Aya's that had his cheeks turning pink and his mind turning into warm, moldable mush.

There was only one, small thing that he disliked about the method — he was so rarely given the chance to thank her in person. Taishiro, always the gentleman and always grateful, made sure to send her message and thank her the next time they met, but it was hardly the same as showing his gratitude the moment she handed the gift over.

They were further apart than he would like, and he knew that was part of the reason why her gifts were left for him to find. He was a busy hero too, he had to remember.

Slumped at his desk, the round hero held up the ring of flowers. With his gloves peeled away, he could rub the silk petals between his fingers and let the softness of them sink ease into his tense muscles and aching back.

"Really wish ya'd stick around for a little while, Peach." All he wanted was a couple of seconds with her, though that alone made him feel selfish.

The beautiful crown was placed onto his head, the whole of his face turning a bright red at the idea that someone might see him wearing it. It was equal parts embarrassment and the desire to brag that the crown had come from her, but he would settle for quietly admiring in the reverse camera of his phone how perfectly it fit and how the colors of the faux-petals didn't clash with the blond of his hair.

If he couldn't thank her face-to-face, the least he could do is send her a picture of him wearing it, face split into an ear-to-ear, rosy-cheeked grin.

[ to: peach ]

I've never been given a flower crown before! I always thought they were pretty, but I'm glad my first one was given to me by you. I don't want anything happening to it, so I'm definitely taking it home. Better safe than sorry. I'd really hate for it to get ruined.

Thank you, Peach. Now I have something to remind me of you every day!