#i could get a timer to count the pauses for me but it feels like it would be admitting defeat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writingsbychlo · 2 years ago

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HOW TO SAVE A LIFE | rhysand

summary; trapped under the mountain, starfall has always been your favourite holiday and you miss it. tonight, this time, you have one opportunity to share it with someone.

word count; 5577

notes; starfall day 3!! but also, go easy on me, I didn't proofread this. it's like midnight here, I am exhausted, let's not judge obvious mistakes 😅 also, please note, this takes place UTM, and references to rhys' SA are alluded to, so read with caution!!

‘how to save a life’ moodboard

The corridors were utterly silent as you paced up and down. Back and forth, back and forth. Your eyes flickered to the shadows across the floor moving through the open windows, your only way of measuring how much time passed was with the moon’s manipulations. As the shadows encroached closer and closer to the small scuff you’d marked as your limit on the floor, you gave a heavy sigh.

Your thumb was in your mouth, chewing the nail anxiously, and as that thought came into focus, you removed it, scoffing idly at yourself. You weren’t in trouble. Yet. In fact, you could leave right now, and nobody would have even known it was you, you’d fly right under the radar, as you’d always done, and bring no attention to yourself.

Who were you kidding? You weren’t going anywhere. Not even as the ceaseless pounding of your heart threatened to crack your ribs, not even as the lingering fear in the back of your mind about what you’d already done to get here made you dizzy. You were waiting it out.

Your gaze flickered back to the silvery streaks pouring in through the window.

Time’s almost up.

You finally paused your pacing, staring down at it as darkness crept out of silver, marking your timer. You waited for a second longer, lifting the edge of your dress and poking at it with a scuffed shoe.

This is it.

You weren’t sure whether it was crushing relief or crushing disappointment weighing you down, that sank your shoulders into a slump that made you feel as though you were holding up the whole world. Shaking out a sigh and loosening your shoulders, that relaxation lasted for only a second, before a dark chuckle emanate from the shadows, and you were whipping around to peer into them.

You didn’t see him at first, gaping at the darkness until he stepped out, looking every bit like a devil dressed in finery. Purple eyes glowing in the moonlight, the sharp lines of his face like jagged peaks in the dark of the hall, tall and intimidating, with a sinister smirk sat on his lips.

“You, Little Mouse, are the one who called me here?” Like magic - well, with magic - the letter you’d scrawled in a hurry and slipped under his door mere hours ago appeared between his fingers. Scratchy, torn brown parchment, with other notes and lists and words scribbled out and crossed, reused over and over because it was all you had.

You steeled your nerves, rolling your shoulders back and tipping your chin up to look at him as he stepped close, close enough to smell the luxurious soap that had your head spinning once again. “I did.”

Your voice only trembled a little as you spoke, and you were proud to get the words out at all. You’d never been afraid of Rhysand, but at this moment, as all that big half-Illyrian warrior and High Lord stood before you, you’d be a fool not to be at least a little intimidated. “For what?”

He all but purred the words, smirk widening a little more, brows rising at you and his head cocked to the side.

“A bargain… a fuck… a good look at true power? What could you,” He cast a scornful and slow stare over your body, the torn rags you called a dress, the scuffed and scratched shoes, the messy hair and dirt under your fingernails that made you hide your hands behind your back. “Possibly want from me?”

Your mouth dropped open, words silenced as you tried to work out what to say to him, but his sneer made you second-guess yourself. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe everything you thought was wrong, maybe-

You didn’t get a chance to think any further, before the sound of pounding footsteps and angry voices bouncing off of the stone walls made every decision for you. If you were caught here, lowly and unworthy up in the higher courtrooms of the mountain palace, you’d be flogged for sure. Worse, they’d be sure to get the truth out of you, sure to get the truth of everything you’d done just to get here tonight.

For that, they’d kill you.

In a spur of boldness that you’d most likely come to regret, your arm shot out, saving him as well as yourself as your nimble fingers wrapped around his muscle-corded forearm. Even through heavy layers of expensive black silk shirts and embroidered blazers, you could feel him tense at the abrupt contact. Dragging him along behind you, you didn’t hesitate, weaving through corridors and pathways, past floor-to-ceiling windows and being sure to remain out of sight.

He spluttered behind you for the first few seconds, almost enough to pull a smile at your lips with the image of the terrifying Lord of Night spluttering, but your panic was far too high to even entertain that kind of thought right now. He yanked his arm free, a growl on his lips as your fingernails scratched at the soft fabric of his blazer, surely messing up some of the threads, but right now, your adrenaline was too high to be concerned with such trivial fears.

Everywhere you turned, voices could be hurried; hurried and panicked and frantic. Boots marched, people corralled out of their way, heels tapping and weapons scraping along the floor as they were dragged. A busy, busy night indeed.

All your fault, a voice taunted in your head, a tendril of regret finally making itself known as you fled. Despite it all, curiosity seemed to have gotten the best of Rhysand, because he was following you, despite your grip no longer being on him. He could have stopped you, even with all that dark power suppressed he would possess enough to freeze every cell in your body to his command with nothing but a wink, and yet, he didn’t.

His long legs carried him at more of a fast walk to your hurried run behind you, and you jerked with shock when you felt the sharp scratch of an icy talon, then two, then three, scratched down your thick mental barriers. You could feel a ripple of twisted fascination burst from him at encountering any walls at all, at someone who knew how to track and resist a daemati.

The tall doors at the end of your final corridor beckoned you forward, with intricate designs etched into the front, and thick wood that would hide you both on the other side. You’d already picked the locks, your feet finally slowing down as relief enough to make you almost collapse as you came to a halt before them. Twisting the knob with a prayer that nobody had somehow discovered your plan, locked them again to keep you out, a shaky laugh left you as the door creaked open with just a little pressure.

Nothing but inky darkness spilt out from inside, and you stepped into it, welcoming its cold embrace and its camouflage, its protection. He followed you in, stepping through with one graceful stride, and your back collapsed onto it to push it closed, a heavy sigh leaving you as your heart rate began to even back out at last. Now, you could barely make out the silhouette of him before you, but you could feel his presence all around, like a weighted blanket closing in.

His stare was even heavier, you didn’t need to see those violet eyes to feel the depth of them on you.

You smiled anyway, wondering if he could see you through the dark, another gift those lucky High Fae perhaps had that your lowly kind did not. Your steps were rehearsed, pacing across the room, acutely aware of where he was as he followed, just from the buzz of his leaking power on the air, all the way to the window at the far side of the room. Scraping back heavy curtains on either side of clear glass doors, you’d already picked those locks too in preparation.

Swinging the doors open and stepping out into milky moonlight on the terrace, you took your first real breath of fresh air in weeks, sighing happily at the cold breeze of the early-Spring night.

The curse trapping you both here shimmered before you, barely an inch from the edge of the stone, and you reached out, never touching it, never risking letting it tell of your true location, but hovering your hand before it, feeling the cruel zap in warning of Amarantha’s boundaries. Never to escape, never to leave, trapped here Under The Mountain.

Your peace was shattered by the rough, animal growl of the man behind you, patience audibly fraying.

“Alright, Little Mouse, I’ve played your game. But, you know how it ends when the cat catches the prey, so what do you want?”

Finally, you turned to face him, hands clenching once again behind your back, hoping this time it would hide the tremor as your intentions were finally to be revealed. “I want nothing.”

“Everyone wants something from me. So, what is it?” He stepped a fraction closer, a snarl curling on his lips, ugly power taking over a handsome face.

“Alright, fine.” You mused, stepping a footstep closer to him as well. “What I wanted… was for you to see the sky.”

He visibly faltered, for all the roles he played and the masks he wore, this one slipped for just a second, his eyes widening as though it was a riddle, brows furrowing even deeper, and scowl twisting to a frown of confusion. “Why?”

“Because it is Starfall tonight.”

This time, his mask didn’t just falter, it crumbled entirely, the façade coming crashing down around his feet as his jaw dropped. His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, gaze flicking over you in an entirely new light now, eyes narrowing to assess you but no malice behind those pretty iris’ now. “You know of Starfall?”

“Of course. It is my favourite holiday.”

An unsteady breath rushed from him, like he’d taken a hit to the lungs, eyes widening as he stared. His shoulders slumped, rigid posture melting away until he looked positively world-weary, arms hanging by his sides. It was then that he wiped a hand over his face, realising a tired laugh, and you wrapped your arms loosely around yourself.

He didn’t recognise you, of course he didn’t you’d been counting on it for this plan to work. You just didn’t realise how cold and lonely actually having that fact acknowledged would make you feel. Rolling up one tatty sleeve of your dress to reveal swirls of blank ink beginning to climb up your forearm from your wrist, his eyes somehow seemed to widen further.

He took your wrist in his hand, your fingers tightening to a fist as a shocked gasp sounded, his touch like fire and warmth and comfort all in one as he gripped you firmly, but cautiously. Turning your arm over in his hold, he pushed your sleeve all the way up to your bicep, tracing the patterns with one fingertip, touch so light it made you shiver. Your bargain marks, messy and rough and ugly, just like the deals you’d had to strike which resulted in them.

“These… these are bargain marks. These are Night Court marks.” He traced again, thumb swiping over the pulse point on your wrist, feeling the race of it under the pad, before lowering the fabric back down to cover them again, and releasing your arm. “The marks of my court.”

His voice cracked, something within you shattering at the sound of it, and you choked down a well of thick emotion as you thought of home, for the first time in a very long while. One a whisper as broken as his voice had been, you uttered; “Yes.”

Too much weight in his stare, too many memories of a place you missed like a lost lover, too many bargains made here just to survive.

It was all so horrible.

“I didn’t know. I had no idea anyone from my court was here.”

There were questions loaded in that sentence. How did you get here? Why are you trapped? Who brought you? What was your reason? You wanted to answer them all, but at first, a single shrug was all that came to mind. It was so overwhelming, not only to be standing here, finally talking to the one person who could understand your longing for home, but to be standing here with your High Lord, someone you’d spent centuries admiring, decades pitying, and months plotting for.

This time, it was he who attempted a smile in comfort. It helped.

“I was travelling at the time. Seeing all of Prythian, and finding work wherever I could to find my adventure.” A horrible feeling you’d spent so long crying over worming its way back in.

You’d spent so long dreaming of getting away from the Night Court, to explore and see the rest of the continent, of the world, and now it was all you wanted to go back. To stay forever, curled up on the windowsill of a cosy apartment that overlooked the glowing lights of Velaris, close enough to hear the music from the Rainbow and hear the happy voices, watch the snow fall or bluebells sprout. You wanted it so badly it ached.

“At the time of…” You waved a hand, throat stinging as you wrestled with emotion, unable to even say the words of this foul curse aloud, even after centuries, “I was working for the Vanserra’s. No one important, as it had always been for me, but they always bring their own staff to the parties. In case you hadn't noticed, Beron is quite high-maintenance, and Eris is terribly paranoid and suspicious.”

A laugh burst from him, rough and grating and unsteady, like he hadn't used it in so long, but it blossomed something in your chest that you thought had died long ago.

“I was one of the lowly serving staff they brought with them that fateful night, to keep Lady Autumn’s glass filled with wine, so she’d never have to lift a single finger. Unfortunately, that meant that when they were trapped, I was too. All that wish for adventure. I got a little more excitement than I bargained for, I suppose.”

Silence settled, the story hanging between you like mist on the morning air, your head turning and gaze shifting to the twinkling stars overhead. Several minutes seemed to pass as he processed it all, and decided what to say next, a hand skimming your shoulder lightly, as though hesitant to dare touch you at all. “Why did you never come to me, before tonight?”

The laugh that tumbled from your lips was self-pitying and sad. Running your hands over the tatty skirt you wore, it felt obvious.

He was, arguably, beside Amarantha, the most important person here. You were nobody. He wore a new suit embellished with gold and silver, you wore a dirty dress that had more patches and sewing than the original fabric. He smelled of fresh soap and aftershave, you smelled of bleach from scrubbing the floors and cinders from the fireplaces. He slept in silk sheets on a big bed, all to himself, you’d been sharing a dormitory for ten years with scratchy bedding and broken mattresses.

And yet, you wouldn't trade with him for all the riches in the world. Your anonymity was all that protected you.

You were nobody. You meant nothing. But tonight, just tonight, you had the chance to be something.

“To what end? We’re both trapped, you have your role to play, and I have mine.”

His smile was as weak and empty as your laugh was. “It’s been ten years. I could have… I could have don’t something to help, made life easier for you, so that you weren’t so alone.”

There was a pain in his voice, a kind of ongoing struggle you’d come to terms with years ago, but it was like a fresh slice across sensitive skin for him. You reached out, hand hovering lightly over his arm, unsure whether or not it was your place. Then again, it was a barrier you’d already crossed in an adrenaline-fuelled panic. Settling your hand lightly onto his forearm, you squeezed gently, hoping it was as reassuring for him as you intended.

“I don’t know how-”

“It’s okay, truly.” Your throat bobbed, the informality of this whole situation was surreal, only the chill in the air, wind whistling through rips in threadbare fabric keeping you grounded. “I was never alone, it’s hard ever to be alone around here. It was just lonely.”

He hummed, a non-committal response, and his mind seemed elsewhere. A heavy sigh, and then his head tipped back, eyes moving to watch the motionless stars twinkle in the sky. It wasn’t until the third shaky breath and slight sniff, hands clenching by his side, that you realised he was choking back powerful emotions. For you.

“Please, don’t worry for me, my Lord.” Your hand swept comfortingly, twice, up and down his arms, that fist of that hand smoothed out when your fingers brushed his the pulse on his wrist. Words, hanging on the tip of your tongue, dangerous and risky and presumptive, but it felt like the two of you had far surpassed those kinds of barriers by now. “It looks far lonelier and far more hurtful at the Queen’s side than where I am.”

His head snapped back down, all that anguish temporarily banished from swirling violet eyes as he studied you once again. It was like a thousand thoughts flashing through his mind too fast for you to read in his eyes. Your lungs were frozen, burning for air but unable to take any oxygen in, eyes wide and body locked as you waited. He was putting something together, he knew, his lips pressing into a thin line and you didn’t know whether this would flip it all over wrongly.

His head cocked to the side, licking over one lip, before the edges of his lips were flickering at the edges, just slightly.

“It was you.”

“What was me?” You’d always been a bad liar, gaze flicking away from his and it was your turn now to let the stars distract you. A talon, scraping at your mental shields again, a warning that he could if he wanted to, break through and you’d never even know. Instead, a single finger hooked under your chin, turning your face back to him.

“It was you. You, who suddenly unearthed this mysterious prophecy about the human girl breaking the curse. You, who has Amarantha on such a wild goose chase that she has no time for… me. At least, not for a while.” He looked awed now, a reassured expression, and his hand slipped from your chin up, to cup your face. Your throat was tight, painfully so, the simple bit of affection making your eyes water and the truth poured from you in a nod. “You were so scared in the halls, pacing and fretting before I even got there. Your fear was heavy in the air. When you heard the voices and the footfalls, you fled. It was you.”

“It was me.” His breath raced from him, lips parted, and you raised your own hand. Holding his to your face, you stole a few selfish seconds, head tipping further into his palm as his thumb swept over your cheekbone; a few sacred moments of comfort. “Buying you a few hours to yourself on this night was the least I could do, my Lord. You may not have known I was here, but some of your actions, the small mercies you disguise as cruelties, have done more for me than you could ever know.”

“Call me Rhysand. Please.” He was fighting tears, much the same as you were, and his other hand joined the first, holding your face up to his own as he stepped a little closer. The warmth from his body was like a magnet you, swayed toward him, the moonlight glowing on his skin like it was made to decorate him and him alone. “At least… at least, when we’re alone. I don’t want to be anything but myself with you. You see me. You’re the only person down here who does..”

You didn’t have to force a smile anymore. It was the first one that felt honestly genuine in years. His thumbs swept a couple more times, before his arms were shaking with restraint, and he pulled them away. Silence settled around you both. With one more glance at the stars, your arms wrapped around yourself, and you turned back to him. “Enjoy the stars, Rhysand.”

There would be nothing to see, no falling stars and souls finding their way. But, just knowing that it was happening out there, watching these ones stay still and twinkle gently, it was enough to feel connected to home, just for a little while. Stepping away from him, the loneliness creeping back up already felt suffocating, like ice water ready to drag you into the darkness and the depths.

His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your own, firm but gentle, insistent but pleading. “Please- please, don’t go. Stay with me. Spend Starfall with me?”

It was an offer like you could only dream of, to spend Starfall with someone else once again, someone who knew. You had no idea how to say yes, mouth hanging open, but he seemed to get the gist, lips curling into a real smile now. Not the cruel grin he wore every day, not the cocky smirk. This was real, this was beauty and emotions and trust.

“Yes?”

“Yes. I would like that.” This opportunity could never happen again, and so you weren’t going to let it just fly past like a misguided star. He tugged you back a little closer, letting your hand go when you fell into place by his side, and his body dropped any remaining tension. He rested his hands on the railing, cautious not to touch that barrier of the curse, and tapping the space beside him for you to join.

You did, the two of you staring out quietly at the vast lands, the bright skies, the empty space; nobody ever dared near the centre of the horrid curse killing the lands.

“I miss the grass.”

“I have a friend… a brother, who has terrible allergies. Even a speck of pollen, and he’s sneezing and eyes running.” A wistful look took over his features, amusement and nostalgia crackling under the surface. “It’s quite the sight to see a warlord sneeze and curse at a flower.”

Your mind followed, reeling a little as the puzzle pieces clicked into place. “General Cassian… has hay fever?”

“Don’t tell him I told you, he’d string me up by my boxers from the pillars of the moonstone palace.” The sounds of your laughter bounced off of the stony sides of the mountain, echoes disappearing into the tonight, mixed with his deep chuckles. A kind of harmony formed, peace, a small bubble of a happy memory like a light amongst so much darkness. You’d look back on this moment for years, possibly decades to come, relishing in the way it felt to smile again, to have companionship and real happiness, even if it didn’t last long. “I miss the smell of the Sidra just after it rains.”

“I miss watching the snow fall at Solstice.”

“I miss the way it would feel after the snow melted, that first truly warm day.”

It somehow became a game, swapping back and forth, each thing you missed. Some were funny, others nostalgic, some were his royal experiences that made his cheeks heat and sweet chuckles leave his lips when you teased him, others had the same experience on you.

The conversation shifted, he asked you all about your travels, told you of his favourite places he’d seen in different courts, and asked you if you’d ever been there. He told you stories about all of his adventures, as you did for him, watching the moon slowly inching its way across the dark sky as you confided in one another, all your deepest pain and joy and excitement. He told you about his friends, the shadow singer, the general, the terrifying creature from another world. He was so passionate, he loved so deeply, that by the time he’d finished, you felt as though you knew them too, like you loved them too.

Then, when your cheeks ached and your stomach was sore from all the laughing, when every happy memory had been shared, reality set back in once again.

“I miss home.”

“Me too.” With your simple response, his gaze fixed once again above your heads, so far away and yet you longed to be there.

“It's- it’s just so godsdamned nice, that just one person knows I’m not a villain.” His words startled you, a fresh batch of pain, something deep and primal exposed like an open wound right to the heart. When you turned to face him, he was staring at the stars, but soft trails of moonlight trickled in fat tears down his cheeks. “Sometimes, so many days pass by where I can’t even look at myself in the mirror, where I can’t even bear the sound of my own name, knowing the way it’ll go down in history. This, this night, your company and your kindness, it makes it feel worth it. That just one person will not hate me, for the rest of my life, makes it feel like it's enough.”

When he finally faced you, wet cheeks and red eyes and exposed vulnerability, you gave him the same comfort he’d given you. With hands on his cheeks to wipe away those tears, you gave your best smile, letting his head hang heavily in your palms for a while. “You’ll never be the villain in my story, Rhysand.”

His lip wobbled, and he twisted his head, lips brushing your palm as he pressed a series of fragile, trembling kisses there. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Your shiver wasn’t from the cold, but from his blatant affection. At the act, however, his pained look became dismayed, glancing over your thin attire with disappointment. He stood, reluctantly peeling your hands from his face long enough to slide down the large blazer he wore, and slipping it over your shoulders. When he pulled the lapels tightly around your body, the plush lining, still filled with his body heat, was like wrapping up in front of the fireplace, on the very rare occasions you could steal a minute to do so.

With a roll of his shoulders, those magnificent wings you’d only ever seen from afar were visible, appearing before your very eyes as though from thin air, as though they’d always been there, only veiled, and you stared unabashedly in amazement.

Stepping closer, until you were so close your breath bounced off of his chest and you could pick out the threads in his shirt, he wrapped them around you, sealing out cold wind and the rest of the world.

“Better?”

“Better.” You whispered, and his resulting look of pride warmed you as much from the inside as he did from the outside. After only a brief moment of consideration, you freed one arm, looping it slowly around his waist. When he only tugged you closer, your other arm joined it. Settling your cheek against his shoulder, he moulded his body to your arm, thick arms wrapping around your body in return, sealing you to him in a hug neither of you intended to let go from any time soon.

His lips traced the top of your head as he turned, a few kisses dotted affectionately along your hairline, drawing happy sighs from you each time. When his head dipped a little further, lips near your temple, it was to quietly murmur, “Would you like to see the stars falling?”

You pulled back, barely a fraction as he refused to let you go at all, but enough to stare up at him. “How?”

“I still have a little of my powers, such as hiding these magnificent wings.” His smirk was positively feline, the nosey Lord having pulled that tidbit from your mind, and warmth raced to your cheeks. “I can show you some of my memories from previous years, if you trust me?”

Another tap of claws on your walls, a soft stroke like a finger over your skin, and you lowered your shields slowly to allow him inside. As soon as you did, you could feel him everywhere. Swarming in your thoughts, filling your head like you were both in there, and giving as much of his feelings away as it did yours. You could feel the relief at knowing someone else’s touch, that lingering guilt for not having known you but the borderline bliss at being here right now. The elation, at being trusted. The joy of having someone to share home with.

Your eyes fluttered closed on his command, as he began to play the memories over.

Glimpses of parties, of stars and fireworks and sequins and fancy dresses. Twirling and dancing, intoxicated fun, and when you saw Azriel or Cassian or Mor, you felt his love for them like you’d feel your own. It was like seeing it through your own eyes. In this memory, he was making his way through the palace, the House of Wind atop the mountain.

You’d seen drawings and pictures, of course, glimpsed it from afar on clear days, but nothing had ever compared to these real images of seeing the palace home. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Tall pillars and columns made of marble and moonstone, carved and designed with intricate swirls and stories. Open balconies, large rooms, enough space that it would take you days to learn your way around, and that was just the small glimpses of it you could see now.

Eventually, he made it to the balcony, one hand braced on the stone as he stared out across Velaris down below, so far and tiny and beautiful, a vibrant ache in your heart as you longed to be back there, one that matched in his own through the connection you’d forged.

You watched on, as his attention turned to the sky, to the falling stars, glittery and soaring and so close. So colourful up close, you’d never seen such a sight, like being immersed within the colour, becoming a part of nature temporarily, leaving you breathless and high on the feeling.

You watched and watched, as he once had, what felt like hours slipping by until it came to an end, and your cheeks felt wet when you finally felt him pull back from your mind. Not entirely, no, a piece of him was still lingering there behind your consciousness, a comforting weight, but your senses were all back, like your spirit had sunk back into your body.

“Thank you for showing me that.��

“Incredible, isn’t it?”

“That stars,” you breathed, “I’ve never seen it so clearly. They were so close, like you could just reach out and touch them.”

He wiped away your tears with one arm, the other still sealed tightly around you, soon to be rejoined. “You can, and when we get out of here someday, I’ll show it to you. I’ll show you so much, give you so much.”

There was nothing else to say, no more words that could fathom this feeling. But, you didn’t need them. You knew that he knew, his presence in your mind was sure to trace it. So, instead, you just snuggled in closer, cheek on his shoulder once again, and eyes sliding closed as you let yourself sink fully into his embrace.

He needed this as much as you did, a two-way street now opened between your minds, and a selfish part of you hoped he never took it away, that even when you were alone, you’d never be lonely again. That fraction of darkness in your mind flickered, as if making a promise.

“Why? Why did you do this for me?” He eventually asked, the question that had been hovering all night. “When I have done nothing for you?”

“Because, Rhysand, I have seen you from afar. You’ve seemed so empty, lately. I wanted to give you something to remind you to hold on.”

He’s breathless, you could feel it under your own thudding heart as his pulse raced and he panted softly into your hairline, trying to settle. “Someday, I’ll take you home. Back to Velaris, where we belong. I’ll make up for everything you’ve had to go through. You’ll never want for anything, you’ll never be alone again. But, while we’re still here, I’ll make up for these ten years I’ve missed already. What can I do, what do you want first?”

“Those are beautiful promises, Rhysand, and I appreciate them, but I don’t need them. All I want, all I need, is a friend. To not be so alone.”

“Never again, darling. Never again, will I let you be alone. It’s me and you, now.” He squeezed you in, another kiss to the top of your head, and you pressed into it, leaving a single kiss to his jaw in return. “Happy Starfall, darling.”

“Happy Starfall, Rhysand.”

#rhysand x reader #rhysand/reader #rhysand x you #rhysand/you #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar/reader #acotar/you #rhysand #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

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cameronspecial · 6 months ago

Text

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 10)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Sexual Joke, Mentions of Drugs and Being High

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: Rafe has to make his grand gesture to get his buttercup.

Masterlist

Stella sits on Rafe’s lap in the booth, colouring in the book he brought for her. “Daddy, how come you and Mommy haven’t gone on a date yet?” she interrogates. She stopped her artistic flow to look up at her dad. He pauses for a moment not sure what to say to her. “Your mommy doesn’t think we should be together, little witch. Believe me, if your mommy wanted to be with me, I would be with her in a heartbeat.” Her head refutes his statement, “That’s not true. Mommy said she was going to ask you out last week. She likes you, Daddy.” This brings a picture into focus for him. When Raquelle came over last week, he remembers seeing a blur of teal come out of the elevator for a second and then go directly back inside. The colour is one he is familiar with as it is a part of Luna’s Diner’s colour scheme. He thought it belonged to her diner’s bomber jacket, but he wasn’t too sure. Now, this brings it all together for him. It was her and she saw him with Raquelle.

“Stella, I think Mommy saw Ms. Raquelle returning my watch to me and thought I might have been taking her out on a date,” he concludes to his daughter. A frown falls on her lips, “Oh, no. We have to show Mommy that you love her.” “We absolutely do. How can we do that though?” he agrees.

——

With Rafe not allowed to watch Stella by himself, he had to enlist the help of his sisters. Sarah took Y/N out for a spa day and Wheezie promised to babysit Stella so that Rafe and his daughter could get everything ready at the house. “Rafe, I think that’s too much sugar,” Wheezie notes as she watches him pour the sugar into the measuring cup over the bowl. The sugar creates a pile in the measuring cup, overflowing into the mixture below. Rafe looks a little defeated and groans at his mistake. The young girl places a hand on her father’s back, “It’s okay, Daddy. Mommy likes sweets.” Rafe’s concern softens at his daughter’s words and they continue to bake. He sprinkles some confectionery sugar onto the table, throwing a little at his baby girl, who lets out a sweet scream.

She scoops a handful in her hand and throws it at her. He plays at being angry at her, watching her run away from him. Her giggles fill the air with joy and her father chases after her. He picks her up around the waist, flipping her over so she is upside down. “You think that was funny? Huh, little witch,” he joyfully scolds. Her body waves in his arms like an air dancer. Wheezie watches the moment with a fond smile, “Rafe, you guys have to get back to baking if you want to finish before Y/N comes back.”

He listens to his sister, righting his daughter upright. He gives her cheek a kiss and places her on the counter beside the bowl they are using. He lets her take the pastry dough out of the bowl, helping her when she struggles with the parts sticking to the bottom. Wheezie brings over a stool for Stella to stand on so that her niece can help roll out the dough. The force of her tiny body isn’t enough to roll the dough into the shape it needs to be, but Rafe is there to help apply the pressure needed. Stella scoops some of the filling onto her spoon and attempts to eat it. His hand stops her movement, “Little witch, you can’t eat that. It has raw egg in it. You can get sick.” He puts the filling onto a cut of dough. Her tiny pout makes him feel bad, so he gets her some candy from the cupboard. Her frown turns into a smile, chewing on the chocolate Kiss. They work together to make the buttercups and put them in the tiny muffin moulds. “Good job, let's get these in the oven,” he announces, opening the hot kitchen appliance and putting the tray on the rack.

The timer dings after thirty minutes and Rafe goes to take the lemon buttercups out of the oven while Wheezie and Stella continue to watch their movie. They wait for the pastries to cool before arranging them into the letters they need. The words start to form a sentence and now, all he needs is to wait for Y/N to come home.

——

She finds the lights in her house dim and this causes a crease to form between her eyebrows. The house is unusually quiet for a house normally filled with her daughter’s words. “Stella. Rafe. Where are you guys?” she calls out to the seemingly uninhabited room. Her purse finds a place on the entryway side table and she enters the kitchen. Her hands search around for the light switch, eventually aiding her ability to see. Something on the kitchen counter catches her eye. She notices they are arranged in a special way and she approaches the surface to read what it says. I love you -R. A smile crosses her face and tears start to form in her eyes. Her hand covers her mouth, trying to hide her expression. She looks around in search of the man, who wrote her message. She finds him behind her, looking at her with hopeful eyes. “Stella clued me in on a little misunderstanding that may have happened, so I thought I’d show you how I truly feel,” he explains to her. He takes a step forward, grasping her hand into his. She follows his motion and looks up at him.

“And what misunderstanding happened?” she asks. He moves a piece of hair behind her ear, “You saw Raquelle at my house and probably thought something was happening between us, but I promise, nothing is. She was just bringing me my watch back. She tried flirting with me, but stopped immediately when I told her how serious I am about you.” A smile starts to form on her face, warmth filling her stomach at the mention of how he feels about her. “And how serious are you about me?”

“So so serious. I told her I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you and that’s true. I love you, Buttercup. So will you go on a date with me?”

“I love you too, Button. Let’s go on a date.”

Their lips find their place on top of each other, working together to deepen their passion. She pulls away, gasping for air and places her forehead on his. “Where’s Stella and Wheezie?” she questions, eyes trying to find the mop of muddy blonde hair that matches her father’s. Rafe points to the door, “Wheezie took Stella back to her place. She wanted to give us some privacy. She knew our daughter’s tiny ears would be nosey.” “Ugh, our daughter is so nosey. Last week, she saw our neighbour got a package and wanted to open it to see what they got,” Y/N agrees with a small laugh. He could listen to her laughter all day, but hearing her call Stella their daughter for the rest of their lives will never be enough for him. Even if it would continue into the afterlife, he doesn’t think it is going to be enough.

“She definitely gets it from her mama. You were nosey about my life all those years ago and look where we are now.”

“Excuse me. Last time I checked, you were the one who came to me. So if she got her noseiness from either of us, it’s you.”

‘Okay, you might be right. How about we blame Benedict and call it a day?”

“I can work with that. He is worse than both of us combined.”

“Deal, so about that date.”

——

Nerves. Why is he feeling so nervous? He’s been on plenty of dates, he is so comfortable around Y/N and they’ve already had sex so it’s not like he won’t know how to pleasure her if they do end up going down that route. But for some reason, the only thing that can cause his palm to rival Niagra is going on a date with the woman he fell madly in love with. Per Stella’s advice, he is taking Y/N to paint their own pottery place. He waits for Y/N to come over, glancing at the clock every so often. He offered to pick her up, but since their daughter is being babysat at Y/N’s house, Y/N said they would feel less pressure if she met him at his house. The knock on the door has him stumbling over his own feet. He straightens out the plain black t-shirt he is wearing and tugs the cap of his dad hat down.

With a whoosh, the door opens to reveal Y/N all ready for their date. She is wearing a pink short-sleeve ribbed shirt with a sweetheart neckline. Her black skirt shows off her perfect legs and he is mesmerized by the way it flows with her slightest movement. She is wearing a golden pendant necklace with Stella’s name engraved on it. Her hair falls in soft curls and her side bangs are pinned back. Her tan ballerina flats tie her outfit together. Rafe suddenly feels underdressed in his black shirt and tan khakis. His keys are clipped to his belt loop and he was going to tie the outfit together with his usual golden chain. He also makes a note to bring his dark blue Carhartt jacket in case Y/N gets cold.

“You look beautiful. I think I got my outfit wrong, so I’m just gonna go changed real quick. Give me like two seconds,” he is about to go to his room when her hand catches his wrist. She shakes her head, “Don’t. I like it. It gives you such dad vibes. It suits you.” He smiles at her compliment, feeling that he is finally ready to make dad jokes and yawn as loud as a plane’s engine. “Then I’ll just stay right here,” he confirms. They stand, staring at each other for a second. He realizes they haven’t kissed yet, so he brings his lips closer to hers, giving her time to pull away. She stays there, letting him come to her before deepening the kiss. Her arms try to wrap around him, but the thing in her hand comes between their faces. They both separate to see a canvas-like fabric in front of their eyes. “Right, sorry. Stella wanted me to give you this. She wants you to wear it so you don’t stain your clothes,” she informs, handing him the kid-sized apron. He opens it to see Stella’s name scrawled at the top and the print of her tiny hands underneath. He knows it will be comedically small on him, but he is going to wear it anyway

He rolls it up and puts it in his back pocket, “I shall wear it with pride. Are you ready to go?” “I am, let’s hit the road,” she exclaims, taking his hand into hers. He really hopes she doesn’t feel the sweat lining his palm. He opens the door to the passenger side and helps her into his truck.

——

“Seeing the Rafe Cameron so focused on his painting is funny to me,” she whispers, her face close to his. Her hot breath fans his face and he hopes the blush creeping on his cheeks can’t be seen. He takes a second to put his brush down, “Why? Is it because my big hands make the brushes look small?” “You wish. I wouldn’t inflate your ego that much. No, it’s because I’m pretty sure you are colour-blind and right now, you are so focused on the details of your ceramic,” she teases. He brings his face close to her ear, “If you don’t want to inflate my ego, then you might want to stop screaming so much whenever I make you cum. But I need this to be perfect, I am painting it for my little witch.” “Ugh, next time I’m just going to not make any noise if you are going to be like that. And she is going to love it, just so you know.”

They get back to work on their own projects. Y/N can’t decide which colour to pick, so she holds up the ceramic, “What colour should I make the writing? I can make it blue to compliment the setting sun or maybe black to just stand out completely.” “I think you should do black. It will stand out more,” Rafe advises, unfurrowing his concentrated brows. She notices the smudge of paint along his jaw and giggles. Her hand reaches out to brush it off. His hand grabs hers before she can pull away, turning his lips toward her hand and kisses her on the palm. They both smile at each other and focus back on what they are doing.

——

They didn’t talk much throughout the date, but that was okay. It was mostly filled with comfortable silence. They had so many opportunities to get to know each other before their first date, so it didn’t need to be the general course of conversation while they were working. Instead, they spoke softly about their week. About advice on how to improve their ceramic piece. About the most random things that come to mind. They considered going out for dinner once they left the ceramic place; however, the constant texts from Josh about Stella questioning how the date was going made them decide to order something at home with her. Even though her other uncle and her aunts offered to watch her, the youngest of the bunch was chosen because he was the one less likely to be a hyperactive puppy when they got back. The small family of three waves goodbye to Y/N’s youngest brother, closing the door once he is out of sight.

“How was the date?” Stella inquires with an intrigued look on her face. Y/N smiles at Rafe, “It was amazing, Baby. Daddy and I had so much fun.” “Yay! Can I come on the next date?” Stella squeals while kicking her tiny legs. Rafe looks down at her in his arms, “I’m sorry, little witch, but I want your Mommy to myself for at least two more dates. Could you forgive me?” Her parents couldn’t think she could get more excited. “Yes, yes, yes! It means you really love each other. I can wait.” The adults both laugh, putting aside her cuteness to ask her what she wants for dinner. They ate dinner as a family, recounting almost every detail of the date to their daughter. After, they settled on the couch and snuggled together to watch a few episodes of Bluey per Stella’s request. As the night starts to creep on the clock, Rafe gets up to head back to his apartment. Stella is sleeping on Y/N’s chest, but Y/N still takes a second to stop him from going. “Do you want to sleep over?” she mumbles, combing her fingers through their daughter’s hair. His lips turn to a vertical point and leans down to kiss his girl on the lips, “I would love to. Let’s get this little witch to bed.” He takes his time with taking Stella into his arms, bringing her to her bedroom so they can get her changed into pyjamas.

The family gets themselves ready for bed and intertwines their limbs together in a cuddle on Y/N’s bed. Stella lies in the middle of her two parents, enjoying the warmth they provide her. Her ears are finally no longer prying into her parents’ conversation, so they can talk about what they truly thought about the date. “You really did enjoy the date, right? You weren’t just saying that because Stella really wanted it to,” he verifies with worry dripping from his voice. She gives him a sleepy smile, “Yes, Rafe. I did love painting ceramics with you. I promise. Did you have a good time?” “Yeah. I never thought I could find such happiness in something so serene, but I did with you. I’m so thankful you showed me a calmer side to life because partying was really getting to my old creaky bones,” he jokes. They let out soft laughs. The laughter dies down and he can’t help but stare at this domestic moment.

The light coming from the lamp, which they will leave on for the rest of the night for Stella, backlights Y/N’s hair with a warm glow. He can see the slight droop in her eyes and knows she is struggling to stay awake for him. “You aren’t that old. Just have one year on me. If you are old, then I am too and that is not allowed,” she reaffirms, her hand finding the skin of his arm to trace patterns. He leans over to give Y/N a kiss, “You aren’t old, Buttercup. We can stay young forever, together.” “Forever and Always?” she mimics the words her daughter often mutters to her father. His heart heats up at her words, “Forever and Always.”

——

The sun invades the room, yelling at Rafe to wake up. His arms reach out in the bed to pull his bed companions into his chest, but his hand meets the sheets. His eyes yawn open to reveal an empty bed and he can now hear the giggles of his girls coming from the kitchen. He notes the slight chill that fills the August air, going to the dresser to pull out some sweatpants to pull on. Stella and Y/N freeze when Rafe makes an appearance in the kitchen like they were caught in a crime. His eyes find a black blur at their feet and he now knows the reason for their giggles. “Salem, come here. You know Mommy and your sister aren’t supposed to be the ones feeding you. They always give you too much food,” Rafe scolds the kitten, picking him up to distance him from the food. The pet gives a small mewl, rubbing himself against Rafe’s warm and bare chest. Rafe gives the feline scratches on the head. Stella pouts up at her dad, trying to take Salem into her reach, “But Daddy, you were taking forever to wake up. Salem was going to starve to death.” “Sure, that’s the excuse you guys keep giving, but when Salem can’t walk by himself, don’t blame me,” he chuckles with a shake of his head.

Y/N walks over to him, handing him his coffee in the mug she made for him on their first date. It has a painted silhouette of Stella on Rafe’s shoulders at the beach. They are both watching the sunset and on the other side, it reads #1 Dad. It’s his favourite mug. It has been for the past year now. “We have to be ready by twelve to help Sarah and John B set up for their gender reveal. It means we have to take a shower right after breakfast,” Y/N warns, staring Rafe dead in the eyes. He gives an offended look, “Hey! Why are you looking at me?” “Because out of Stella and me, you take the longest to shower so I don’t want you making us late. Your sister needs help and I want to relieve as much stress as I can for her,” she critiques, heading back to the food on the stove. He gives a salute, “Message heard. I shall be ready by twelve, Buttercup.”

She gives a satisfied hum in approval and tells Stella to set the table with her father’s help. Breakfast goes rather quickly, with the five-year-old giving her parents an animated retelling of her dream. Once breakfast is cleaned up, the family breaks away to begin getting ready for the day. Rafe is returning from the laundry room with his button-up shirt in his hand and is passing by Stella’s room when she stops him. “Daddy, can you help me put on my necklace, please?” “Of course, I will, little witch,” he agrees, entering her room and going to the small ceramic jewellery box he painted for her. He helps her put it on before getting into the shower. At eleven-fifty, Stella, Y/N and Rafe are by the front door, getting their shoes on and bidding goodbye to the last member of the family who can’t come with them. Rafe helps Stella get into the car, helping her get buckled into her car seat. He gets into the driver's seat and reverses out of the driveway. His hand finds Y/N’s hand, intertwining their fingers and bringing them to the centre console.

Through the back mirror, he watches their house fade into the distance. The house he has been living in with his two girls for eight months and with the young black cat for the past month. Moving in with Y/N and Stella has been an absolute dream. He never thought he would be a year sober with a five-year-old daughter, a two-month-old cat, and the most brilliant girlfriend ever, who is on her way to being the brightest star in Hollywood if he had anything to do with it. His life plan a year and a half ago was just to party and make his father proud, but now, he has a much better life than he ever had planned for himself. He’s been a year sober. Stella and Y/N helped him realize his father’s approval means nothing to him if it didn’t make him happy either and has finally let himself be free of that pressure. The past few months have been filled with laughter, fun and love, which has given his life true meaning. Now, as he heads to a party to determine if he is going to get a niece or nephew in the next few months, Rafe can’t help but be excited for the Forever and Always he will get with Y/N and Stella.

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer @kisstaya @optimisticsandwichgladiator @justdamnpeachy @theoraekenslover

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slut4celebs · 1 month ago

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Songbook

Olivia Rodrigo x Reader

Trigger Warnings: Reader accidentally snoops in Olivia's journal.

Word Count:

Synopsis: In which Olivia is showing the reader this love song she wrote. (Y/n) is adding chords when Olivia steps out for a moment, and when (Y/n) turns the page (thinking there was more), she sees a small verse with her name on the top of the page as a song title.

Please request here! I'm running dangerously low on Miss Olivia Rodrigo and Miss Tate McRae fics...

This was just a quickie fic to get something out, I'm sorry.

Olivia Rodrigo fans and (Y/n) (L/n) fans live for their interactions. It was obvious to everyone that they had feelings for each other. Everyone but the two parties involved. Of course, both were in tune with their own feelings on the subject matter of love and crushing on each other to the point they zone out in each other's presence, but they didn't know that they liked each other. This fact is in spite of the many fan edits and the fact their close friends like Tate McRae, Gracie Abrams, and Sofia Wylie have tried to get them to ask each other out only to receive the usual 'Come on, you know she only likes me as a friend,' or something else along those lines.

Right now, they were on an audio recording, trying to put a song together that Olivia had show (Y/n).Olivia had written what she wants to be a powerful love ballad, she just needs the chords. Which is where (Y/n) is coming in, her finger gracefully making their way across the lower ends of the keys to embrace Olivia's voice as she sings the words. The laugh when (Y/n) accidentally hits a few keys that don't match up, and the kitchen timer has Olivia pausing their session momentarily.

"I'm going to go check on the pizza. Feel free to continue working on the song if you want to." She says, though she isn't ready to get up when she feels (Y/n)'s pinky tap her own playfully. Olivia let out a soft sigh, tapping the girl's pinky back before making her way out of the room, mad at herself for not taking that Tate had told her to make when she learned (Y/n) was coming over. Instead, she left (Y/n) alone with her songbook. The songbook that held all of the songs that she had written for (Y/n), that she would never show her.

(Y/n) settled on the bench by herself, fingers attempting different chord progressions as she sang it softly under her breath. She looked up, moving to flip the page to see if there was more of the song that might connect everything together. Instead, she saw her name written in a heart as a few verses underneath it. (Y/n) couldn't help the way her breath caught in her throat, eyes skimming the page as she took in the words. She was frozen, though she knew she should flip the page back. It wasn't her place to flip the page, she only did because she thought there was more to the song they were currently working on.

Instead, verses comparing her lips to roses and her eyes to nature filled her chest and cheeks with a rising heat, a blush scattering along them. She couldn't help the way it was also making its way to her ears. She also barely tore her eyes away when she heard Olivia walk in. The brunette had a pout on her face, announcing the pizza was basically charcoal now when her brown eyes hit the page she was on. Panic settled in her features as she walked over quickly to snatch the book.

(Y/n)'s eyes were wide with guilt, not wanting to upset Olivia in any possible way. "I'm so sorry," she apologized, standing up. Olivia looked pale and hurt. "I didn't know that was the next page. I thought there was more to the song since it was incomplete on the page we were on, so I flipped the page. But… I didn't know that you felt that way about me." (Y/n) was trying to find the right words, so she could tell Olivia that she felt the exact same way as her.

She couldn't help but watch the guarded expression fall on Olivia's face, which was her doing, and the way she clutched the book to her chest. "And, what? Now that you do, you're just going to leave? You're not going to want to be my friend anymore?" She asked, her gaze currently locked on a spot on the floor before it finally made her way to (Y/n)'s chest tight with fear. She couldn't lose (Y/n). She wasn't just her best friend, at this point in her life. Maybe it was too much, but (Y/n) had become a lifeline to her, and if she lost that, she didn't know what she would do. It cause fear and panic to settle on every fiber of her being as she swallowed thickly.

"No, I'm not going to leave." (Y/n) stated seriously. She pried the book from Olivia's hands, putting it on the music desk of the piano. She then, slowly cupped Olivia's cheeks. Olivia watched the girl lean in, following along easily until their lips connected. It was the kind of kiss that made you forget where you were, so lost in the other person. It made Olivia feel infinite under the girl's fingers as their kiss deepened, passion seeping into each movement. They held onto each other like their lives depended on it. "I'm not going to leave because I'm really into you, Olivia. I just didn't think you liked me back."

Olivia's chest was still beating quickly as she looked at (Y/n), seeing the earnestness her features held with her confession. "I've always liked you. Every single love song I've ever written was for you. Since SOUR and GUTS, you've become my muse. All the songs about the girl who makes me happier than anything on life could, they've all been for you." (Y/n) couldn't help the swelling in her chest as she leaned in to kiss Olivia again. The two of them were lost in the moment once more. The book and the charcoal pizza were now temporarily forgotten. What mattered to them in that moment was that they finally confessed and they could discuss what was going to come next for them. Even if that meant hearing a million 'I told you so's.

#olivia rodrigo x reader #olivia rodrigo #anne's pop girlies

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multifandomimagines999 · 2 years ago

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Celebration: Joe Burrow Imagine

Summary: Joe wins the AFC North and you two get to celebrate

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (18+), BJs, smoking

Word Count: 1,050

Note: Feel free to leave requests!

The last game of the season was at home versus the Ravens which meant you were definitely there. Joe and the team were on a hot streak and you knew this game was big for them. Winning this meant they won the AFC North which meant the tradition of a locker room party and cigars. It was a noon game, so you decided not to pregame and to do your partying after. For this game you decided to wear black faux leather skirt, an orange v-neck Bengals shirt, and his leather jacket.

You watched as they played their hearts out to win 27-16. All you wanted to do when that timer hit 0:0, the field interviews were done and they were heading to the locker room was run and congratulate him, but you wanted him to enjoy his annual locker-room celebration with the team; which consisted of dancing, music, and LOTS of cigar smoking.. So you waited in the family suite, scrolling on Instagram when you saw a sexy picture of your man with a cigar hanging from his lips.

"Damn," you murmured softly a wetness gather between your legs.

Then some tweets rolled in from /Ben_Baby:

"Live look at the Bengals locker room celebration: QB Joe Burrow, cigar in his left hand, rapping and dancing along to Future at his locker."

"Burrow has been controlling the aux in here."

You couldn't help but laugh at that. Joe was Future lover, that's for sure. You continued scrolling, screenshotting the picture of Joe smoking for later, when a ping rang through the phone.

Burrow ❤️: “Where are you? Come see me.”

You: “In the suite still. I’m on my way.”

So you gathered up your things and headed down to the tunnel outside of the locker room. There he was, patiently waiting with his Deadwood’s Leather Rose cigar in his hand, leaning in the doorway. He looked sexy as ever donning his Conquered AFC North" tee that was almost skin tight. When you reached him, he engulfed you in his muscley arms, kissing your forehead.

"You didn't have to wait in the suite baby," he spoke softly, taking a quick hit off the cigar.

"I just wanted you to have your fun with the team," you paused, nodding towards the locker room where you could hear the bass of the rap music and laughter coming, "We'll have the afternoon to celebrate before celebratory dinner with your family anyway."

"You know I'll always wanna see you..." he paused to lean down and press a kiss to my lips as his free hand slid down my back to rest on my ass, "Especially when you look like this."

He bent down to kiss my neck as he gave my ass a squeeze, "Jeez Joey, can't you behave yourself until we get home?"

"I don't think so," he murmured into my neck as I quite a pap out of the corner of my eye.

I pressed my hands against his chest, causing him to detach from my neck and look at me before I stood on my tip toes to whisper in his ear, "How about you behave yourself here and finish your celebration and then while you drive home you can have your cigar in one hand and my head in your lap...."

A quiet yet audible groan left his slips as he nodded in agreement, "Sounds like heaven babe."

"Perfect. Now you go have your fun. I'm gonna call your mom and set up plans for dinner."

He thanked me and gave me another kiss goodbye before heading back into the locker room.

When Joe and you climbed into his car, his lips immediately attached to yours. Making out for a few minute, you realize he just lit the cigar in his hand. Joe shoots you a smirk before getting the car on the road. His left hand held the cigar while his right hand gripped the steering wheel.

You reached down, palming him through his black slacks, eyes scanning over his face then to his cigar.

“You want to suck me off while I’m smoking my cigar, don’t you?” he asked teasingly, taking another puff.

“Yes please.”

You pause, clipping your hair back before popping his pants button and pulling out his big, hard cock. You note the precum already beading at his pink head. You start by kissing his tip before taking him into your mouth, hand pumping and twisting at his base.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, “You look so damn pretty with my cock in your mouth.

He took another hit off his cigar as his grip on the wheel tightened. The only thing he hated about fulfilling this fantasy of yours was he didn’t have a free hand to grip your hair.

You bob your head up and down, his tip hitting the back of your throat over and over, making him let out a deep guttural moan as you come to a red light. You moan around his cock which sets him off. His hips are bucking up into you, indicating that he’s close, so you speed up your motions just a bit and take him even deeper.

“Fuck, I’m coming!” he groans and he blows out cigar smoke, shooting his load down your throat.

The light turn green as you pick your head up wearing a big grin on your face. You carefully tuck him back in his boxers and rebutton his pants as he continues your drive home. You watch as a fire blazes in his eyes and he takes on last puff of his cigar before putting in out in the car’s ash tray.

“God baby...”he exhales again, making your smile even wider, “Just wait until we get home. We’re gonna celebrate...hard.”

“MMM perfect. You deserve it.”

When he pulled into the driveway and turned off the car, you didn’t make the move to get out immediately, so you didn’t either. Turning to face you, he leaned over the center counsel and grabbed your jaw with one hand, pressing a long, sensual kiss to your lips.

“I may have won the AFC North twice so far, but being able to call you my girl is one of my biggest accomplishments. I love you,” he confessed sweetly.

“I love you too.”

“Now, let’s go celebrate.”

I hope y’all enjoyed! Leave requests if you have any!

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow smut #nfl smut #nfl #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fluff

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weeeeeekly · 5 months ago

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quarter life crisis – ot5 tomorrow x together x afab!reader

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊

blurb !!! Reincarnation can bring soulmates together despite their time apart. Being a huge fan of TOMORROW X TOGETHER helped you get through the struggles of entering early adulthood. You would thank them personally if you ever could but when you possibly get the chance it’s more than what you could ever hope for.

info !!! txt are still idols, reincarnation au, soulmates au, polyamory, throuple²… they’ll all eventually date each other, mc has mental health struggles, universe assigned lactose intolerance, team no kids, glasses wearer, lives in the middle of fuck nowhere but still a city (just go with it), pet names used are “our love” and princess, & not edited.

wc: 1.1k

WARNINGS !!! NSFW, MDNI, 18+, extremely self-indulgent, soft yandere!txt, mentions of mental health & self-harm (nothing graphic) for entire series

author’s note !!! This is fiction!!! this is made up!!! I do not condone breaking in, stalking, and other ulterior motives to get close to someone you are romantically interested in.

why are there not more ot5!txt x fem/afab or gender-neutral reader… mandatory note that i do not think txt act like this in real life. I also cannot come up with a blurb for the life of me, so please peep the info tags.

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CHAPTER FOUR

You really were having trouble falling asleep.

Every time you closed your eyes, your mind would either pick the memory of Beomgyu holding your face or their expressions when you asked about hiatus. TXT already took up most of your waking thoughts but now they’ve invaded your sleeping thoughts.

It wasn’t your fault, worrying about pulling an all-nighter again, unfortunately. The lack of sleep would catch up on you but right now you could waste a Saturday doing mundane chores. Like laundry.

Having to haul a giant ass laundry bag down the hallway, into the elevator, and down another hallway to the laundry room. One of the few cons of living in your apartment is that you didn’t have individual washer and dryer units, but no other complex was affordable yet close enough to the hospital your roomie worked at.

The laundry room was empty at 1 AM, not shocking but welcoming. The rows of empty washing and dryer machines brought you some comfort as you counted out quarters from your favorite coin purse. It was never a bother to come downstairs to do laundry, offering every time to do your roommate’s too, as it reminds you of your favorite movie.

Humming to yourself one of your favorite songs, when two pairs of hands grab you causing you to shriek and drop to the floor.

“Are you okay?” Kai’s voice above you calls out as he helps you.

“Sorry. We wanted to be funny.” Soobin apologizes as the washing machine’s timer ends.

“It’s fine.” You mumble as you go to transfer the clothes to a dryer.

Kai stands next to you, a little too closely, “Dear Sputnik?”

“It’s my favorite song.”

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Kai grinning.

Soobin asks, “Can we help?”

“That would be great once it’s done drying.”

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Gumz stick to you just like their name intends as you carry the laundry back to your apartment. They even stay to help you fold the clothes and put away yours in your dresser.

Small talk was fine between them, just some awkward pauses when they couldn’t think of certain words. You understand though because the English language is difficult.

You walk them to the front door, “Thanks for helping me out, guys.”

Kai opens the door and stands on the welcome mat as Soobin leans against the door frame and stares into your eyes with a softness in them.

“Come over?”

It feels like you forget how to speak in that moment with the way Soobin’s looking at you – with fluffy brown hair, slightly pushed back showing his forehead and dimples on full display. You know Kai is also looking directly at you with a hopeful smile on his beautiful face that makes you want to run your hands through his dyed blond hair. You nod, afraid that your voice will crack if you open your mouth.

Kai extends his hand out as you hold his hand. Soobin gently pushes you forward, keeping his large hand on the center of your back and never straying further. It takes all the will within you to not think inappropriate thoughts and before you know it, you’re inside their apartment with the other boys smiling at you with a certain fondness that you can’t describe.

“Back from doing laundry so soon?”

Yeonjun pats the seat next him – coincidentally the empty, middle spot – surrounded by the others as he puts on a movie. You get comfortable in the seat as Taehyun hands you a bowl of your favorite snacks. You pop a piece of candy as you wonder how they knew your taste in snacks, but ignore it, tributing it to a coincidence.

As you start getting into the movie’s plot, Yeonjun scoots closer as he throws a hand over the pillow behind you.

He’s probably just trying to get comfortable. Nothing weird.

But when you put a few more pieces of candy in your mouth, Yeonjun leans onto your shoulder to whisper in your ear, “Did Soobinie and Huening help you?”

Nodding as you try to scooch away before you answer your personal delusional question of what it would be like to kiss THE Choi Yeonjun. Beomgyu turns to you and tilts his head, so you offer some candy that he happily takes.

“As a thank you, make a group chat for us?”

“Okay.”

Discreetly taking your phone out as to not interrupt movie night, you hand your phone to Yeonjun to make the chat.

gc with 6 cuties

you hi

soobin hiii

taehyun hey

huening (⋆ˆ ³ ˆ)♥

beomgyu hello

hottest it boy heyyyyy

you oh my god

Yeonjun snickers as you let out a sigh, locking your phone. You turn your attention back to the movie as it’s almost over now. You sit back against the pillow and let your eyes close – just to rest them for a minute.

Once the credits roll, TXT start to clean up until Yeonjun tells them to be quiet as you fell asleep. Taehyun hovers over you as he gently takes your glasses off and places them on the table as Beomgyu brings a blanket from his bed.

“I wish she would stay forever with us.”

“Don’t wake her.”

“I call the couch with our love tonight!”

“No fair!”

“We’ll get her to sleepover again tomorrow before Monday and stay in the apartment while she’s at work.”

Yeonjun pushes Beomgyu out of the way to sleep next to you. He wants to snuggle, but he’s afraid you’ll freak out if you wake up right now, so he’ll wait until later.

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You don’t remember when you fell asleep, but you wake up a little later when you feel a head on your shoulder. Turning, you find Yeonjun sleeping peacefully. The MOA inside you is screaming right now as this is a dream come true. You close your eyes again and hope you fall back into dreamless sleep as no dream could be better than your life recently. You just hope that Yeonjun continues to sleep on your shoulder and when you wake up again you’ll feign innocence to keep your friendship.

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author's note sorry for the late post!! hopefully i'll get the next chapter finished earlier in the day :)

#txt x reader #txt x you #tomorrow x together x reader #tomorrow x together x you #txt fanfic #txt smut #ot5 x reader #soobin x reader #yeonjun x reader #beomgyu x reader #taehyun x reader #hueningkai x reader #yandere txt

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jiihu · 2 years ago

Text

﹅ 𝘂𝗹𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗼𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲; 𝗸𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗮

﹅ summary — karina uses her idol status to coerce you into a relationship. her friends tell you that she isn't a good person, yet you decide to find out for yourself.

﹅ content — abuse, manipulation, power imbalance

﹅ word count — 5.2k

﹅ a/n — okay, i trimmed down the word count a bit by cutting out some scenes, i hope it still comes out good! there will definitely be a part two, so feel free to send plot ideas that you want to see! i also barely proofread, but it went through grammarly so it should be alright

From the moment you saw Karina in an advertisement on a busy street, you were immediately drawn to her. Thereafter, you began attending all of their concerts, media showcases, and even their airport departures, even if to stand in the back of the crowd and take pictures. You were infatuated with her, watching every single piece of content with her in it. You felt your days slowly being consumed by her, spending every waking moment of your life keeping up.

Although you knew that this level of infatuation wasn't healthy, you endured it, even if just for a moment of happiness. "Jesus Christ, Y/N. Have you really been sitting here all day waiting on Aespa's comeback?" Your closest friend, Gyuri, muttered as she walked into your apartment. You glanced at her as she opened up your refrigerator, letting out a sigh as she closed it. "You didn't even touch the soup I made..." You huffed, scratching the bridge of your nose.

"Sorry, Gyu. You know how important this is to me though. I've been waiting months for this. They also have a QR Code that we scan before the show starts, and I could get a free ticket to their fan sign! Isn't that exciting?" You beamed, taking glances back at the screen to check the timer. You looked up at Gyuri as she shrugged, before falling on the couch cushion beside you.

"I guess that's worth it," she emphasized, glancing over to the stacks of albums that you bought, hoping to win a fan call with Karina. "But I don't think the rest of this stuff is worth it. Nor do I think it's awfully healthy." She paused, taking a quick look at you. "But I guess if it makes you happy." You didn't respond as you heard music start playing from your TV, and your head snapped to see what was going on. You watched as Aespa did their introduction greeting, and your eyes were immediately drawn to Karina.

Once they began talking about the QR Code that we would be able to sign, you quickly pulled your phone out and aimed it at the screen, hoping the faster you caught it, the higher your luck would be. You chewed on your lip as you stared at the screen, groaning when you realized that you would have to wait until after the show is over to get the results.

Gyuri chuckled at your reaction, before standing up and stretching. "I'm leaving now. Text me later if you finally get lucky after all these years," she joked before kissing you on the forehead and heading out of the door.

Although you'd usually be over the moon during any Aespa performance, you couldn't help but feel impatient as you waited for the ending to reveal who won. To take your mind off of it, you walked over to the kitchen and prepared some snacks to eat during the performance.

After what felt like hours of watching their show, it finally got to the end and you quickly opened your browser to see, "Congratulations! You've won the AESPA fan sign tickets!" You gasped, standing up from your seat. You muttered no way under your breath, sending a quick screenshot to Gyuri. You opened your phone and scrolled down to Ryujin's contact number, pausing for a moment before you chose to call anyway.

"Y/N?" You heard her tired voice come through the phone speakers.

"I got the fan sign tickets!" You rushed out, hearing Ryujin's exhausted groan on the other line.

"Y/N, that’s great and all but you remember what I said, right?" You rolled your eyes, despite her not being able to see you. Ryujin, and many others, told you that Karina was bad news, but you couldn't be bothered to listen. Even if she was, it wasn't like you would actually have a chance with her, so it didn't matter to you anyway.

"I know, I know. You've told me a million times. But it's not fair you get to know her and I don't." You whined, pulling the phone away from your ear as Ryujin snorted.

"Yeah, that's why I'm telling you, Y/N. Because I know her, and you don't. I know how she is and how she treats people, and I don't want that to happen to you." You heard someone in the background call Ryujin over, telling her that break time is over. "Listen, Y/N. For my sanity and your safety, don't get involved with her. I love you." That was the last thing you heard before she hung up and you couldn't help but feel your excitement die down after her words. She couldn't be that bad, right?

You stood outside of the venue, your bag clutched tightly in your arms, and you looked around at everyone who seemed to be just as nervous. You thought back to Ryujin's words, becoming paranoid, wondering if they were true. What if she's mean? You bounced from leg to leg, moving forward with the rest of the line. Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you tried to remember what you were going to say to them when you made it to the front.

"Nervous?" You looked to your right and saw a girl with a camera pointed toward one of the members. You nodded, before quickly saying 'yes' after you realized that she wasn't looking at you. "Is this your first time?"

"Yeah. You?" You asked before you heard her chuckle.

"Not at all. I'm at just about every one of their events. For photos, of course." She zoomed in on the camera a bit, before taking a picture. "One word of advice though, don't try to remember a pre-written script. Just go with the flow, it'll make it more natural. Plus, you'll probably forget it, anyway."

Once you reached the front of the line, you realized that she was right. You didn't remember anything that you planned on saying. You sat down in front of Ningning, watching as her face morphed from a smile to a shocked expression. "I've seen you before!" She exclaimed, staring at you for a second before her expression changed to one of realization. "You're that one Karina fan page on TikTok, right?" You nodded, opening your album photobook to her page.

"Yeah! You've seen my page before?" She scoffed, looking down at the book as she wrote something down.

"Who hasn't? Winter just sent us one of your videos earlier, she'll probably recognize you." You were speechless, not knowing how you should respond to her words. You didn't expect any of them to see the videos you made, let alone see enough of them to recognize you. When the next person moved, you stood up, giving your goodbyes to Ningning before you sat in front of Winter. When you sat down, you saw Winter's face light up before she addressed you using your TikTok username.

"The video you posted earlier," she trailed off, laughing as she wrote on her page of the book. "Karina's been talking about it all day." You laughed, shaking your head in embarrassment.

"That was probably the worst video for you guys to have seen." She wrote something else on the side of the page before, glancing over to Giselle.

"Maybe not. Karina seemed to have loved it." You stood up and took your photo book from her before you took a seat in front of Giselle. You saw her eyes open in shock when she saw you, her hands pausing as she flipped through the pages.

"I didn't expect to see you here,” she smiled, stealing a glance at Karina. “Karina literally won’t stop talking about your account.” You crossed your legs, scratching your jaw as you felt awkward and put on the spot for some reason.

“Does she really talk about it that much? Ningning and Winter said the same thing too.” Giselle playfully groaned, throwing her head back.

“Anytime she takes out her phone, we know it’s most likely one of your videos.” She paused, glancing up at you before smiling. “No offense, of course. The videos are great, but she’ll talk for hours about them.” You smiled before you watched as her facial expression became serious as she leaned closer to you. “Listen, I didn’t tell you this but if she tries to pursue something with you, don’t trust it.”

“Wait, what-” You were cut off by Giselle sitting back in her seat, giving you a smile that may have seemed friendly to anyone else, but you could tell it meant don’t press any further. You nodded, taking a move to stand up and sit in front of Karina. She smiled as you took a seat in front of her, opening the photobook to her page. She frowned when she looked down, and you followed her line of sight to her page with the outline of her face cutout.

"Do you not like me that much?" You gasped, your jaw dropping when you realized what you had done.

"No, wait! I brought the wrong one! That's the one I use to make posters..." You trailed off when you heard her laughing, and you looked up to see her with the back of her hand pressed to her lips, trying not to laugh too hard.

"I'm kidding," she reached for your hand laying on the table, rubbing her fingers over your knuckles. "I saw the video of you making it." You let out a breath of relief, watching as she observed you for a second before smiling and going to write something on the page. You felt someone's gaze on you and you turned your head to see Giselle staring at you with a disapproving look. You frowned, confused before her line of sight moved down to your hand that was held in Karina's grasp.

You pulled away, giving Karina a smile when she looked up at you. Even though you had just met Giselle today, you felt like you didn't want to disappoint her for some reason. Karina started to pass you the book back before she paused and reached down to take out a sticky note.

She used her hand to cover up what she was writing on it, before discreetly slipping it inside of the pages. Smiling as if nothing had happened, she waved you goodbye as you stood up. Instead of sitting back down to witness the rest of the fan sign, you walked to the back and left through the door that you'd entered, feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

"Gyu, she gave me her number!" You exclaimed, holding Gyuri's shoulders as you shook her shoulders. You observed her as she sat silently with a shocked expression, holding the note between her fingers. You snatched it away, tucking it back into the pages of the book. "Don't memorize it," you joked, watching as she rolled her eyes.

"Maybe I was wrong." She toyed with the end of her sleeve, nervously looking around the room.

“What’s the matter?" You questioned her, watching as her eyes flickered between you and the wall.

"Nothing!" You gave her a knowing look, prepared to refuse to drop the conversation until she told you. "Fine! Ryujin told me that she was probably going to give you her number, and to not let you call her."

"What? Why?" She shrugged, turning to face you.

"I don't know. No one is saying why, but don't you think it's a little weird that everyone's saying she's bad news?" You thought about it for a second, until you realized that you didn't have a rebuttal.

"I mean, I guess they could be right. But shouldn't that be something I figure out for myself? She seemed sweet enough at the fan sign."

"But come on, Y/N. Her actual idol friends are saying she's a bad person. Hell, even her bandmate said the same thing! Don't you think there might be a little truth to it?" You stayed silent, looking back down at the book again. You heard her let out a breath of air, shaking her head. "I can't stop you, but please be safe. And if anything goes wrong, Ryujin and I are always there for you." You nodded, leaning into her hug as she stood up and walked towards the front door, giving you a last glance before leaving.

You took the sticky note out of the page after she left, twisting it in between your fingers. You stared at her number on the page, debating if you should contact her or not. Taking a deep, you typed her number into your phone, sending her a text saying, 'hi! this is y/n btw'.

Before you could even put your phone down, you'd already received a text back that read, 'y/n! i thought you were never going to text'. Your fingers hovered over the letters on the screen, trying to figure out what to say next. Even though you did want to get to know Karina yourself, Giselle and Ryujin's words wouldn't leave the back of your mind. While you were wrapped up in your thoughts, your phone started ringing and you looked down to see that it was Karina calling.

"Hello?"

"Hey. Sorry for calling, but I just wanted to hear your voice again," she timidly said, and you could tell that she was shifting around on her bed. You froze for a moment, being caught off guard by the fact that Karina of all people wanted to hear your voice again. Maybe she isn’t as bad as people might say.

“Don’t apologize! I don’t mind calling.” She let out a breath of relief before she started asking you about the fan sign. You made sure to tell her how much fun you had since it seemed like she was nervous about what you thought of it. “Yeah! Gyuri told me not to call, but I assumed nothing bad could come out of it anyway.” She paused for a second before humming in agreement.

“Gyuri?” You made a noise of confirmation, wondering why she repeated her name.

"Do you know her?" She snorted, a humorless laugh following.

"Nope." You stayed silent for a moment, thinking that she was going to follow up with something else. Although you didn't believe her when she denied knowing Gyuri, it didn't seem like she'd let you in on any more information, so you let it go. You two continued having a conversation for a couple more minutes before she asked you if you were busy tomorrow.

"I'm not busy at all. What about you?"

"Not at all. That's why I wanted to know if you wanted to come to a café with me?"

"Of course! What time?" You confirmed a time and said your goodbyes, turning around and squealing into your pillow.

"So? I'm assuming it went well." You jumped from your position on the couch and turned to see Ryujin standing in your living room.

"How did you get in? You've got to stop doing that," you groaned, fluffing the pillow back into its original position. Ryujin gestured over to Gyuri who was standing by your refrigerator with bags, diligently restocking it. You shook your head, leaning back into a comfortable position on the couch.

"Plus, there's no need to worry. Even if she is a piece of shit-" You were cut off by a clap from Gyuri.

"Language!" You huffed, shaking your head.

"Even if she is a bad person, I wouldn't let her do anything to me." Ryujin and Gyuri shared a look before Ryujin wandered off to the kitchen with an exaggerated, drawn-out sigh.

"If you say so."

You sat on a small wooden bench outside of the café that you and Karina agreed to meet at, absentmindedly picking at the skin on your nails. Despite agreeing with her to meet at 3:00, your nerves got the better of you and you showed up ten minutes early.

While you were lost in your thoughts, a car pulled up in front of the restaurant, stopping in front of you. You looked up as the driver let down the window, making eye contact with Karina who gestured you over.

"Y/N!" You stepped into her car, pulling the door close as you felt yourself become nervous at her presence. "I've been thinking about you all morning."

Before you could respond, she put the car into drive and started leaving the café. "Wait, Karina. I thought we were eating here?" You questioned her, half disappointed because you were starving and wanted to eat before you two went anywhere else.

"We were. But I thought about it and it'd be much better to get to know you in a more quiet place first, then we could start going on dates in public later on." You felt like your head was spinning at the word "date", your eyes glued on the dashboard of her car. "You can call me Jimin too, by the way."

"Not that I mind, but where are we going that's quiet?" Jimin smiled, her finger tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the song softly playing in the background.

"My dorm."

You stepped into the dorm, your heart pounding in your chest. Just yesterday you were winning your first fan sign, and now you're in their dorm. You moved aside as Jimin locked the door behind you two, slipping your shoes off. Walking into their living room, your eyes were drawn to the clothes hanging in front of the wall. You squinted, focusing on an off-white colored jacket. Isn't that Gyuri's?, you thought to yourself, your train of thought being interrupted by Jimin pulling on your sleeve.

"Come on." She guided you down the hall to the room she shared with Ning Ning. You looked around, trying your hardest not to focus on her soft hands wrapped around your wrist. She tugged you into the room, closing the door behind her softly.

"No one's here but us." She smiled, gesturing over to her bed. You sat down, picking at the fibers of her comforter. "Don't be nervous. It's just me." She grabbed your hand that was fidgeting, running her thumbs over it.

"Are you hungry?" She questioned you, nodding her head when you answered. "We only have noodles and leftover gopchang, if you're okay with that."

"I don't mind at all." She walked over to the kitchen, pulling out a pot and pan. While she was filling it up with water, your eyes slowly traced her figure. Even though you already knew she was beautiful from pictures and videos, her visuals seemed magnified in person. While you were zoned out, observing her side profile, she turned around with two packets of noodles.

"Spicy or not?" You pointed to the non-spicy ones, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of her. She opened the packets of noodles, dumping them into the pot. You turned around and walked over to the table to sit down, rather than ogle at her any longer. You heard the gopchang sizzling in the pan, the rich smell following shortly after.

"Jimin?" She hummed, using tongs to remove the noodles from the water. "Are the others coming back anytime soon?" She shook her head, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

"Nope. I specifically told them not to come home because I had a date today." You felt your stomach twist at her words again. Even though this was a dream come true, a dream that many others would never get, you couldn't help but feel nervous. Not only because of the word date again, but also because you couldn't get Gyuri and Ryujin's words out of your head. On top of that, the jacket that looked almost identical to Gyuri's was plaguing your thoughts.

Jimin walked out of the kitchen with your bowl and plate, setting it down in front of you. "I made both of us some so you weren't eating alone." After she sat at the table, you two ate in silence, Jimin stealing glances at you now and then as you tried to ignore them. Once you were finished eating, you stacked the plates and bowls and tried to bring them to the kitchen before you felt a grip on your elbow.

Jimin guided the dishes back down to the table, pulling you back towards her room. "Leave it." Once you two passed the doorway, Jimin closed the door, swiftly locking it behind you two.

"Jimin?" She maneuvered around you, sitting down on the bed before pulling you down onto her lap.

"What?" Her fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, sliding her hands under your shirt.

"Don't you think this is too fast? Too much?" She looked up at you, her thumbs tracing shapes on your waist.

"Do you want to stop? If you're uncomfortable, we can stop now, and I'll take you home and you don't have to see me again." You chewed on the skin of your lips, your eyes darting around the room.

To be honest, you did feel like you two were moving too fast, but you also didn't want to miss out on what was probably the last time you'd have an opportunity like this. Despite what Ryujin had said, you felt safe in Jimin's arms, and you felt safe knowing that she was giving you the option of leaving.

"No, don’t stop."

"You did what?" Ryujin shrieked, her actions almost fish-like as she searched for words.

"I don't know! It was so sudden but she just made me feel, secure?" Ryujin groaned, rubbing her fingers across her forehead.

"That's what she does! She'll make you feel safe before she reveals her true colors. I already told you this!" You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. You didn't appreciate the way Ryujin was treating you, the way she'd always treated you like you were a toddler who needed protection.

"Ryujin, I said I'm fine! I swear that if she does something, you'll be the first one to know." She shook her head, running her fingers through her hair.

"You don't get it, do you?"

"Then help me understand!" Ryujin's words began to irritate you, her cryptic behavior confusing you.

"No. This is something you'll have to figure out for yourself." She grabbed her bag from the couch and walked over to the door before turning around to face you. "If anything happens, please don't be scared to talk to us. No matter what we're here for you." She closed the door behind her, leaving you standing in your living room, alone and confused. So, you did the only thing you could think of at the moment, pulling out your phone.

"Jimin? Can I see you?"

You sat in Jimin's car, your phone propped up on the gearshift as you two watched some cliché romance movie to take your mind off of things. Despite you not telling Jimin anything was wrong, she could sense your mood and suggested a movie night, but in the car, since Winter was home. "God, I forgot how much I hate these types of movies," Jimin groaned, taking a bite out of her corndog.

"It wasn't that bad. Maybe a little corny, but aren't most movies these days?" She smiled, her eyes tracing your face. "What?"

"Nothing. You look pretty today." You looked away from her, getting flustered like the day you'd first met. Jimin hooked her pointer finger under your chin, her thumb tracing your jawline.

"Go out with me. On a proper date." You stared at her like a deer in headlights, the sudden confession catching you off-guard.

"Like, a non-quiet place?"

Jimin nodded, laughing at your choice of words.

"Yeah, a non-quiet place." You looked away from her, feeling nervous and put on the spot at her proposition.

"Now?"

"If that's okay with you." You agreed, your fingers playing with the stitching on her seat while she pulled off. Her hand moved from the center console to your knee, rubbing circles over it. Your nerves had calmed down almost immediately, noticeably relaxing into her touch as you stared out of the window. "I've never done this with anyone before. Never felt this way about someone before." Your eyes flickered to hers, her impromptu statement taking you by surprise.

"Never, with a fan? Or with anyone?" She paused for a moment, her gaze intense as if she were blindsided by the question. She turned back to the road, shaking her head.

"With anyone. Idol life is pretty difficult, so I never have time for things like this. But, when I saw your TikTok, I was drawn to you. I wanted to message you, but I thought that was too risky. So, I got you into the fan sign." You looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"What do you mean got me into the fan sign? I won the raffle from the QR code."

"Oh, didn't mean it like that. I just meant that..." She trailed off, her grip on my knee becoming firmer. "It's not important."

"We're here." You walked into the restaurant in a daze from her words, your arm tucked securely under Jimin's.

"What can I get for you two?" The waitress mumbled, dragging her feet over to the table with her head buried in her clipboard.

"I'll get a butter croissant, and she'll take an order of strawberry bingsu," Jimin interrupted you as you started to order. You looked up at her with furrowed eyebrows, your finger still hovering over the menu. How did she know?

The waitress's head shot up as she heard Jimin's voice, her posture immediately straightening. "Karina! I'm a huge fan!" She blurted out, the end of her clipboard coming to rest on the end of the table. Jimin smiled, taking her hands into her own.

"Thank you so much for supporting us. I promise we won't let you down." You watched as a blush spread across the waitress' face, her hand clinging to Jimin's. With a pang in your chest, you turned around to face the window, your dejected expression showing in the polished glass.

The waitress moved to another table by the time you turned around, her eyes flickering back to Jimin's now and then. "Are you okay?" You nodded, quietly thanking the server when he brought out the food for the two of you.

"Sorry to bother you again, but can I maybe get an autograph?" Jimin smiled, taking the paper and pen from the doe-eyed woman.

"Of course. It's the least I can do." Jimin signed the paper, writing something small on the end of the paper before handing it to her again. You watched as the woman's eyes grew wide, a gasp slipping from her lips as her eyes scanned over the note. You scoffed, stabbing your fork into a piece of strawberry.

So much for a great first date.

You silently sat in Jimin's car, your mind racing with thoughts as you thought back to her interactions inside the café. As much as you wanted to believe her when she said she'd never done this with anyone before, it was hard to when seeing how natural she was when flirting. You shook your head, feeling embarrassed by your jealousy.

"Y/N?" You turned your head to face her, realizing that you had already arrived back at your house. "Ah," she trailed off, playing with her fingers as she tried not to make eye contact. You frowned, still holding a slight one-sided grudge against her. "Can we hang out again tomorrow?"

"Jimin, I'm sorry but I don't think this is going to work out. I mean, you're really great, but I don't think... I don't think I'm ready yet," you stumbled over your words, trying not to say the word "uncomfortable".

"What?" Jimin looked at you as if you'd grown a second head like that was the last thing she'd expected you to say. "Are you serious?" You started to feel nervous, her tone making your heart skip. She shook her head, staring at you with an expression that looked like she'd snap at any minute. "You can't just leave like that."

"I didn't say I was leaving, Jimin. I just need more time to think about this."

"More time? Do you know how many people would kill to be where you are right now? Don't pretend like you didn't see what happened in the café."

"You're ridiculous." You turned to step out of her car, before being caught by the wrist and harshly pulled back into the seat. You grunted as your back hit the leather, your arm pulled across the console into Jimin's grasp.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." You took Jimin talking as a chance to escape her grasp, opening her car door and bolting towards your front one. You quickly punched in the code, looking over your shoulder to see that Jimin had already left. You ran into your house, slamming the door behind you while you tried to catch your breath.

"What's wrong with her?" Your head snapped up to see Gyuri and Ryujin sitting on the couch, a bowl of popcorn laying across Gyuri's lap. You felt your phone buzzing and pulled it out of your pocket, your heart pumping from adrenaline.

| jimin

y/n

im sorry

i want to apologize

ill give you time to calm down but

meet me tomorrow

please

You made a beeline for your room, feeling like you could burst into tears at any moment. Despite the way Jimin acted in the car and restaurant, you couldn't help but want to respond to her message. You couldn't tell if it was because you genuinely wanted to see her, or if it was because you knew, deep down, that she was right. People would kill to be in your position, and you felt that you couldn't miss out on such a golden opportunity because of something that could easily be a misunderstanding.

You heard a knock on your door, followed by Ryujin entering your room, Gyuri not far behind her. "Y/N, what happened? And don't lie to me, I saw you get out of Jimin's car."

"I don't know. Just something weird that made me feel uncomfortable. But, I'll talk to her about it tomorrow so it's not that big of a deal." Ryujin moved closer to you, her hands coming to firmly hold your own.

"Y/N, like I said, we're here for you. If it's not that big of a deal, just tell us what happened." You took a deep breath, feeling her hands comfortingly caress yours.

"When I was getting out of the car, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me back into the seat. That's all." Gyuri sighed, shaking her head as she looked down at her feet.

"Told you." Ryujin shooed her away, standing up from her squatted position.

"I'll give you some time to process. If you need anything, don't hesitate to talk to me about it." Ryujin slipped out of the door, closing it behind her.

You sat in silence with your thoughts, your mind replaying the incident with Jimin. Jimin seemed like an amazing person, and you didn't want to let what could've been a bad day for her define your relationship forever. You grabbed your phone, your thumbs hovering over the keyboard as you thought of how to respond. You started typing, trying your best to ignore the tingling in your wrist which kept bringing you back to the moment. She wouldn't do something like that twice, would she?

| y/n

its fine

see you tomorrow?

#fem reader #aespa karina #karina x reader #karina imagines #kpop imagines #girl group imagines #gg imagines #aespa x reader #aespa imagines #⸻ writes! 📄

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envies-writing-corner · 1 year ago

Text

Hello, Stranger

Genre: (F, A)

Includes: Mysta, Kyo, Shu

Word Count: 650

TW: mentioned Death, Meet-Cute cringe?

Concept/Title explained: Soulmate AUs

---------------------------------------------------------------

Mysta Rias: Red String

Mysta would not believe you if you told him he would wake up to find a red string attached to his pinky and it would lead here. He wouldn’t believe it for a second. Maybe that’s why it was so difficult to grasp the fact that it was true.

As the detective stepped out of the car, he looked towards his hand, the string growing tighter, leading into the graveyard in front of him. Every fiber of his being was begging that it wasn’t what he thought, that his soulmate was just visiting someone. Everyone knew soulmates were something important, that only one person was meant to be with the other end of the red string. He’d heard of how it’s supposed to be a magical moment when you meet your forever partner for the first time, his own friends Fulgur and Uki having tried to explain how it felt when they met in person. This moment was anything but a joyful fairytale scene as his string went taught, pausing in front of a grave.

Shock pierced through Mysta as he fell to his knees, unable to comprehend the words on the tombstone in front of him, desperately trying to pull the string from the packed dirt, giving up as it wouldn’t give. This was reality, his soulmate was dead… and he had found them too late.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry you died without me...”

Kyo Kaneko: Colorblind

For as long as Kyo could remember, the world had been dull and void of life. He had believed it to be because of his illnesses, that because of his constant hospitalizations the world just didn’t seem as it once did to him. When he was accepted as a member of Iluna, he quickly realized that wasn’t the case. His friends bustled with life, joy and excitement, just to make their fans and each other feel happy. They had always spoke of the colorful world they’d lived in, how Ren’s world was all black and blue, how Aster seemed to shine in his purple outfits, how soft Maria looked with her pink accents. Kyo wondered if he’d ever experience the beautiful world his friends kept gushing about.

Nothing prepared him for that day though, when a new student had joined the Iluna institute, his world bursting into color like an explosion, his eyes immediately landing on you and your beauty.

"That stranger...”

Shu Yamino: Timer

Shu’s timer always confused him. It never seemed to tick down, not by a second, minute, hour, or day. The clock on his wrist never changed. It didn’t help when he was thrown years forward into the future. In fact, when he did get transported, he forgot about the timer, not once checking it since he joined Luxiem.

When the topic of timers came up on stream a year later during a Zomboid collab, everyone had revealed what their timer said. Some, like Nina’s and Ren’s had already gone off, while others like Alban’s and Wilson’s had years to go. Shu could feel his heart in his throat when he noticed his only had a few more minutes. He wracked his brain, trying to think of who was part of the collab he hadn’t met, who was running late. His answer came a minute later, his timer down to under a minute when his doorbell rang. Muting his stream and running to the door, he saw you. You hadn’t noticed your timers going off as you looked at your phone, seemingly confusing the house with your friends as you look up, slightly annoyed.

Everything was in slow motion when you looked up, eyes locking with purple as your phone fell, quickly looking at your wrist then Shu’s as everything became clearer. He smiled, picking up your phone and handing it back to you, a teasing tone to his voice.

“Hello, stranger...”

---------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: thank you for your patience regarding new fics, I would like to state that due to recent news regarding Mysta Rias’ graduation, I will no longer write for Mysta unless requested, similar to how I write for Yugo. Until his graduation date, please support him and the rest of Luxiem through this difficult time, and stream Detect My Love. ~Iris

#luxiem x reader #mysta rias x reader #mysta rias #kyo kaneko x reader #kyo kaneko #shu yamino #shu yamino x reader #Iluna #luxiem #iluna x reader

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stayandot8 · 1 year ago

Text

Thaw

Genre: comfort-fluff? Was angsty then...not?

Relationship type: exes

Important Contents: Soooo Defrost Part 2. Enjoy.

WC: 2.3k

Part 1 l masterlist

“Hi, Chris.”

I didn’t fight my smile this time. Hearing his voice was the oxygen I needed to continue breathing. Like resurfacing when you’ve been underwater for too long.

There was a pause on the other end. I brought my phone back to make sure the line hadn’t been disconnected, but it wasn’t. His contact name was still there, the little timer counting up. I brought the phone back to my ear. “Chris?”

“I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet, almost whispering. “I’ve never been so relieved to hear my own name.” I closed my eyes, letting his voice wash over me. I was rejoicing in hearing no anger in his tone, wave after wave of relief crashing over me. Shaky breaths were all I had left in me.

“Honestly, I’ve never been so happy to say it. Even when we first started dating, I took for granted how much I loved saying it. I guess you never realize how much you love something until it’s…”

“Gone.” He finished for me. “I’ve thought about this moment a lot, you know. I’ve thought of everything I would want to say to you, all the emotions I want to express, the feelings I need you to hear. But now that you’re… talking to me, saying my name… I can’t think of any of them.”

“I know. It’s been a while. I can’t even bring myself to ask how you are because I’m scared.”

“A mess. I’ve been a mess. But I really don’t want to do this over the phone. Can we please talk? In person? I have so much to say and I want to make sure I write it all down now that I actually have a chance to say them.”

“Then why don’t we do that? We write everything down and trade. That way we don’t have to embarrass ourselves by saying them out loud.”

I knew I’d never be able to say everything I needed to face to face. My best bet was to write, knowing the time would let me think of everything I could possibly think of. The thought constricted my chest, but brought peace at the same time. Knowing that at the end of it we would have the chance of coming back together, of being better than we were, would make it all worth it. Knowing we could get through this patch and come out the other side, that he was not only willing to hear me out but wanted this as much as I did…

“Okay. Let's do that then.”

“Okay.”

Just one word. One word was all it took to get me smiling again. To make me feel weightless and buoyant. If I listened closely enough, the wind outside was singing to me. Like even it was rejoicing in this. Even though these past few months felt like hell coursing through my veins, this part of the journey felt necessary. To come back stronger, hell must be journeyed through. Like Orpheus and Eurydice, hell had been ventured through but unlike those two fated lovers, we would see the sun of dawn.

“When can I see you?” His anticipation was killing my resolve to take our reconciliation slowly, to make sure all the knots got untangled. The tingle in my toes was causing my legs to shake from restlessness.

“I don’t know. I have to go to my parent's house for their-”

“Spring cleaning thing, right. That’s okay. I’ll wait.” His downtrodden voice had switched to a hopeful and I could see his face in my mind’s eye, eyes twinkling when he became optimistic. “As long as it takes.” He whispered.

“I’ll call you when I land?”

“Or before? If you want…”

That hope again…

“I’ll call you when I pack later tonight.” A content hum from the other side of the line..

This is going to work this time.

“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad. Your sister is older now! She can’t still be teasing you like that.” I was curled up in my childhood home, on the living room on the couch I would sleep on when I was sick so my mom could take care of me. It held so many memories, so much time was spent on the fibers of thread that had started to fringe. These threads I was picking at were the only thing I had the mental capability to do while on the phone, trying my best to keep as quiet as possible while the rest of the house slept.

“It’s true! You should’ve seen her at Christmas, she was on a roll.” There it was again. That familiar pang of guilt at any mention of the time spent apart. Felt deep in my gut, a horrible, tangible reminder that it was never supposed to be.

“I wish I could’ve been there.” I let my voice trail off, hoping my thoughts were readable to him. To anyone else, they wouldn’t be but I was forgetting how well the boy on the other side knew me.

“Hey. Don’t do that. We both know how it would’ve been. And maybe if we hadn’t spent that time apart, we never would’ve come back like this. Ready to hear each other out and not jump to any conclusions. Right?” I let his words marinate, my own thoughts earlier that day exactly matching what he’d said aloud. “Right?” He said a little softer, as if questioning himself now. I realized I hadn’t said anything yet.

“One more week, right? I can do that. We can do that.” It was his turn to laugh.

“We can do this. Enjoy the time with your family while you still can. Because when I see you again, I’m never letting you leave ever again.”

“You’re coming home today, right?”

“Yep. My flight lands at seven tonight.”

“Is… anyone… picking you… up?” Gentle, trying his best to sound nonchalant. It wasn’t working, but I wasn’t going to fight it. Two weeks of phone calls every night and texting all day only made me miss him more than I would ever admit out loud.

“Not yet, I was thinking about texting Felix or-”

“That’s not funny.” He couldn’t see it, but my mischievous smile was back as I snickered. I hadn’t felt this giddy about seeing a boy since we first got together. The funny thing was it was the same boy. Absence really did make the heart grow fonder.

“It’s kinda funny. Why, do you have a better idea?”

“Please let me pick you up.” He didn’t know, or at least I hope he didn’t know, how fast my legs were going, kicking my feet in the air from excitement. I was beaming before I had to remember that he could hear everything. I drew a sarcastic sigh.

“Fine.” I knew he was smiling. I knew him better than I knew myself.

One three-hour delay I had withstanded but the baggage claim was going to be the death of me.

I didn’t let him come inside the airport so I could freshen up from the hours of plane ick on me before seeing him for the first time in forever. Okay, not forever, but it sure felt like it.

I tapped my foot and folded my arms, waiting so impatiently. Until I spotted it. My red suitcase came down on the belt and I ran for it.

Chan: Outside :)

I drew a breath and walked as quickly as my sneaker-clad feet would carry me to those sliding glass doors. They slid open and the cool air from outside contrasted to the heat radiating from the airport, but I barely noticed. There were cars lined up along the curb, each with different headlights casting shadows around them, blinding anyone who would look directly at them. I blinked a couple times, adjusting to the new darkness. And that’s when I saw him.

He was in blue, forgoing his usual black t-shirt and athletic shorts. No, he traded them in for some longer jeans and a button up shirt. His hair was styled, like he had just come from a shoot of some sort and his makeup was still intact. He was leaning on the side of the car, staring at his black boots. It was like no time had passed. The butterflies came roaring in, not just in my stomach but everywhere. My brain had no thoughts, just the image of him, waiting for me. I was trying to burn it into my eyelids. I was afraid that if I blinked, he would be gone.

He spotted me and his nervous shuffling stopped and a wide closed-lipped grin spread. We just stood there, looking at each other, taking each other in. My feet were cemented to the ground. He took a step near me and then another. Closer and closer until he was close enough to touch, to feel, to breathe in. I looked him from boot to eye and I had about .2 seconds before my emotions took over my body and I fell into him.

He was warm and comforting and smelled divine. I was in his arms again and all was right with the world. It wasn’t perfect, but it was mine. I could breathe again, oxygen returning to my lungs and turning into shaky breaths. I was home. He just let me cry into his shoulder and tucked his head against mine. He rubbed my back as he held me, light touches but comforting.

When the tears subsided into even breaths, I pulled back only slightly, not wanting to break free of him quite yet.

“Did you grow?” He asked as he laughed as he wiped my face, healing the broken pieces I had created and held onto for months. I shook my head and gave him the best chuckle I could muster. Two dark spots were left behind from the places I had cried.

“I’m so sorry, Chris.”

“It’s okay, it’ll dry. Or if it doesn’t, that’s okay too. I’ll have you on my shoulder all night long.” His smile could cure anything, I was sure of it. It dropped from his face for a second. “Unless you want to go home? I can drop you off too-” I shook my head before he could finish the sentence and dove back into his shoulder, just wanting to be near him. I felt his chest rumbling as he chuckled again. “Have you eaten?” It was difficult, but I shook my head without leaving his shoulder. His grip on me tightened. “Let’s fix that, shall we?”

“I can’t believe you remember this place. You took me here when you won your first award, didn’t you? You said-”

“Right! That’s right, I did bring you here. I wanted to get away from the kids after they got drunk for our first win.”

“And you didn’t want to drink so you called me instead. And we came here.”

“Yes we did.” He sat back in his chair, his half-empty water glass the only thing in front of him as we waited for our food.

“Didn’t you choke on your kimchi?” A slow grin grew on my face as I relived the memory.

“Because you made me laugh! I could’ve died. Stop laughing, it’s not funny!”

“Contradictory for you to say because you’re laughing too! Must have been so traumatic for you if you’re laughing about it now.” His expression matched mine, like the twins we were. Meant to be.

“Laughing through the pain.” I ‘hmm’d at that and our server rolled her cart over with our food, setting it down in front of each of us before I could say what I was thinking. The small bowl of kimchi stew boiled in front of me, the perfect thing on a cool spring night like this one. Chris had gotten a boiling bowl of ramyeon with all his toppings. Soup was definitely the way to go.

I arranged my bowls of sides and rice the way I wanted and picked up my spoon to dip in when out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a couple sitting across from each other, one slouching into the corner facing away from me and the other peering over his sunglasses at me. When I caught his eye, he quickly pushed them back up and sipped from his cup and looked around him. I thought nothing of it until I realized the glasses he was wearing looked too familiar, and at second glance, the one facing away from me was wearing his Versace hat backwards. They were trying a little too hard to look casual, purposefully not glancing my way again. I had to chuckle.

“Chris, why are Hyunjin and Han sitting at a table directly in my eyesight?” His shocked expression and sudden turn relayed that he truly had no idea they were there. My mouth was starting to hurt from holding back laughter. Chris faced me again and buried his face in his hands. A small groan slipped past his lips. He moved his hands so he could speak clearly.

“I’m going to kill them. I’m actually going to kill them.” He made no move to get up though. I tilted my head so I was staring at them until they noticed, which didn’t take long. Han slowly took his sunglasses off and grimaced. I raised my eyebrow until Hyunjin turned to face me too, taking off his hat and glasses as well, wearing a similar expression to his accomplice. I pushed my hand in a ‘shoo’-ing motion and Han rolled his eyes. He mumbled something to Hyunjin and they both rose and left without another look back.

I watched them clear the road and turn the corner, safely out of sight. Chris was boring holes into his cup, like it would start levitating through his sheer power of will. He huffed.

“Seems like they might have missed me more than you did.” My brow still raised, I smirked at him. He scoffed.

“Not a chance.” That twinkle was back. And I had just then made it my life’s mission to make sure it never left again.

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itcanbegoodagain · 1 year ago

Text

Pregnancy Cravings

Word Count: 1288

Rating: N/A

Inspired by this video.

"There's no rules, baby," Peeta says softly, the corner of his lip quirking up in amusement at my frustration. "Do what your instinct tells you to."

I close my eyes. Take a deep breath. Then, carefully, I dip the brush into the light pink I made, swirling together white and red. I bring it to the canvas and begin to fill in the gentle lines Peeta drew for me. I start at the edges of the petals, bringing the color down in quick strokes. I've learned that if I think too much about how I move the brush, the more I mess up.

A few minutes of silence pass by before Peeta murmurs that I'm doing well, and the primroses look beautiful. I smile, not taking my eyes off the painting in front of me. "Eyes on your own work, Mellark."

He laughs next to me, and I hear him shift before putting his palette down. He holds my head steady, pressing a kiss to the side of it. "What can I get you to eat? I'm going to the kitchen."

"I'm okay," I reply.

"Yeah, sure, the noises coming from your stomach totally mean you're not hungry," he says with an eye roll I can hear.

I look at him out of the corner of my eye, clearly admitting he's right. "Do we have any leftover cinnamon rolls from yesterday? I could probably eat a whole baker's dozen in three seconds."

"Lemme check." Then he's out the door, taking the warmth of his hands on my head with him.

Cabinets open, then he yells back. "No cinnamon rolls."

Immediately, tears spring into my eyes. They blur my vision slightly, but I focus on the flowers and holding the brush correctly. Slowly, one drips down my face. Down the drain that hope goes.

He walks back into the room, holding a small plate of date bread he made today. "I brought the bread from this morning to hold you over until-" he breaks off. Peeta sets the plate down with a quiet sigh. He nears, frees my hands, then kneels in front of me. He holds my hands to his chest and looks up at me. "What's up, Katniss?"

I sniff, feeling ridiculous, and say, "I just... cinnamon rolls sound really good right now. I wasn't lying when I said I could eat a lot of them."

He laughs quietly. "I know -- you can always eat a lot, even when there isn't a baby asking for more." He brings my hand to his lips for a kiss. "What do you want me to do?"

"Can you make some?" I ask hopefully.

"I don't have everything here," he says, protesting when my face breaks again. "But hey, hey, there is some dough at the bakery that I've had proving since last night. I can go get it and make you some fresh rolls in less than an hour."

"No, Peeta, I don't want you to go all the way there for me."

He smiles, shaking his head a little. "What, like that's the most taxing thing I've ever done for you?"

"Peeta, I'm serious," I cry.

He pulls me into a hug. "Me too, Katniss, okay? I love you and our baby you're carrying, and if you both want some cinnamon rolls, who am I to deny you?"

I brush my hands over my face, wiping away the tears. I look at him, and my heart feels so close to bursting it's hard to breathe. "Are you sure?" I ask quietly.

"There is nothing else I want to do right now," he replies. My stomach does a little flip at his words.

"Okay," I whisper. "Thank you."

He grins at me, leaning forward to press a kiss to my lips. I hold him there for a moment, relishing in his warmth and comfort and love.

"I'll be back soon. Get comfy, or keep painting, and there will be cinnamon rolls before you know it." He presses one more kiss to my lips before walking to the doorway. Once there, he pauses for a moment, leaning against the doorway to watch me compose myself. When I start painting again, he taps the wood with his hand a couple times and he's gone.

I'm in the living room when I hear the timer go off for the oven. I'm curled up on the couch with a blanket, stroking Buttercup's fur.

Soon, Peeta exits the kitchen with a large plate in hand, a knife and napkins in the other. He sits beside me, setting the plate on the small table before us. "There, fresh and warm. All for you," he tells me, laying an arm across the back of the couch.

I reach forward and grab one with my fingers, ignoring the knife completely. As I bring it close, I get a close whiff of its smell, and my stomach turns. My mouth closes, my face turning away from it and Peeta.

"Katniss?" he asks. "What is it?"

I break down into tears again, putting the roll back on the plate. I cover my face, getting a little bit of frosting on my forehead with the movement.

I cry and laugh simultaneously, not believing the state I'm in right now. This is absolutely stupid. "I..." I begin. I feel his hands on my back, rubbing soothing circles, and I cry harder.

"Katniss," Peeta says again, real concern pushing through.

I drop my hands and look at him, tears running down my cheeks. "I know I said that cinnamon rolls sounded good, but... But they don't anymore. And you went all the way to the bakery to get the dough and make them for me, and I don't even want them anymore, and I'm so picky and ungrateful-"

"Woah, hey," he says, cutting me off. "First of all, you are not picky. You would eat food off the floor. Second, you are not ungrateful, Katniss, okay?" His hands move to my face, brushing away the hair there so he can get a good look at my tear-stained cheeks. "You thank me all the time even though you don't need to. We're married, so you never have to feel bad or thank me for taking care of you. It's the pride of my life."

Without conscious thought, I crawl into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. His arms circle me, pulling me close. Slowly, he rocks us back and forth, and my slight hiccuping sobs grow smaller before they fade away entirely. He presses kisses to the side of my head the whole time, whispering little things about his love for me in my ear.

"Okay?" he asks, minutes later.

I take in a shaky breath. "I'm okay," I tell him quietly. "And I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for," he replies. "You're doing something incredible, giving over your body for months for something we both get to enjoy for the rest of our lives. I don't have to feel what you do. I want to take care of you, no matter what that looks like."

He pulls my head from his neck. "I love you, Katniss, and the baby you're growing in your stomach. If I wasn't in it for the ups and downs, for the long haul, I wouldn't have married you. But I am, so I did."

"I love you, too," I say, leaning forward to kiss him. It's a little snotty, a little teary, but that's okay. "You make me feel so safe. I wouldn't be able to do this without you."

Peeta hugs me close for a few minutes more. "Katniss," he says quietly, "I can literally feel your stomach growling. What sounds good?"

#the hunger games #everlark fic #idk how long buttercup should live but pretend he's fine in this timeline okay #pregnant!katniss #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #everlark is superior in every way always #pregnancy cravings #peeta loves katniss duh #suzanne collins #post mockingjay

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chrisevansonly · 2 years ago

Note

*Le Gasp* is momma pregnant again!! Oh my goodness what was Chris reaction to the second pregnancy!

Baby Ducks

Chris Evans x Wife!Reader (Little Duck AU🐥💛)

Summary: What's better than one duckling? Two of them, and with the help of Arlie, the Evan's family just grew by 1 more little Duckie

Warnings: non, just fluffy sweet adorableness, Arlie is a sweet bean

A/N: surprise everyone...the Evans family is growing <3

Word Count: 1,074

For the past couple weeks you'd been feeling a little off, and being someone who was so in tune with their body, it wasn't hard to guess what could be the reason. Whether it was your sudden irritability to the smallest things, your stomach hating the though of certain foods or your sensitive and slightly painful breasts, you determined it might be a good time to take a pregnancy test. You and Chris had been talking about having another baby over the past few years, and with Arlie turning four in a couple months, you'd argue it was essentially the perfect time to add another baby Evans to the mix. You eventually psyched yourself up and wandered into the bathroom to grab one of the many extra tests you had around after a few pregnancy situations

“Whatever happens, it’ll be okay”

You said that to yourself twice, a mantra you had with Chris when you were trying for Arlie Mae. Once you took the test you set it down and made a timer for 3 minutes, as per the instructions on the box. As you sat in the bathroom you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, the thoughts of two little ducks running around and experiencing life together was enough to bring early tears to your eyes. Taking a deep breath when the timer went off you stood up and looked at the test, a hand covering your mouth when you saw the very clear pregnant 4+ on the screen.

You were having another baby.

You’d spend about 4 days getting ready to tell Chris, who luckily hadn’t figured out anything was wrong, and of course you got Arlie to help you with the surprise

“Arlie baby?”

You wandered down the hall to her playroom where you could hear blocks being built

“In here momma!”

Her little voice called back to you as you found your way to the door, her face scrunched in concentration as she attempted to build a massive tower out of rainbow build blocks

“Hi little duck, that’s a nice tower”

“Thank you, momma, is so big!”

You laughed

“It sure is, think you can pause and help me with something?”

She paused her movements nodding her head and smiling, she loved helping you with everything, whether it was baking, feeding the ducks out back or helping you put away groceries

“I can help momma!”

You chuckled at her enthusiasm reaching for her hand before bringing her into your bedroom, a yellow t-shit lying flat on your comforter

“Okay, momma has something to tell you, but we can’t tell daddy, okay?”

“Like a ‘supise?”

You smiled kissing her forehead

“Yeah baby, a surprise”

You picked up the shirt and kneeled down to her height, getting her to put it on, it had two ducklings on the front of it and said “Duckling Number Two on The Way, Big Sister Arlie” in black writing, with a thick enough font to read it without any issues

“Do you remember when we talked about brothers and sisters? How momma carried you in my belly?”

Arlie nodded waiting for you to continue

“Well, you’re going to be a big sister Arlie, momma’s got a little baby in her tummy right now”

You watched the gears turn in her little head as she thought over what you said before giggling excitedly, reaching to put her hands on your still flat stomach

“There a baby in here momma?”

Her eyes were full of curiosity, and you just about cried watching her hug your waist to press her ear to listen

“Yeah honey, there is, your little brother or sister”

“I love ‘em momma”

You wrapped your arms around her and pressed a kiss to her cheek

“Oh, you’re so sweet my little duck, come on, we have to go show daddy your shirt”

That caught her attention, and she clapped her hands leaving your room with you in tow behind her. Chris was down in the kitchen figuring out lunch for his two girls when he heard the familiar sound of her feet on the hardwood

“Daddy!!!”

Arlie rounded the corner, and you stood back, remaining by the entryway to the kitchen, a bright smile on Chris’s face when you both entered the room

“Hey little duck! Whatcha been up too baby?”

Arlie giggled before standing in front of him

“Me and momma have ‘supise for you!”

“Oh really?”

He looked up to you and sent you a wink, you were trying to hold back tears at this point, the excitement coursing through you

“Show him your shirt Arlie”

Arlie looked down at her shirt, pulling it out a bit for him to read it, as soon as he did, his head snapped up and his gaze met yours, tears finally making their way down your cheeks

“You’re kidding!”

“Surprise handsome...”

Arlie looked between her parents before letting out a squeal

“Momma has a baby in her belly daddy!”

Chris bent down to pick her up and press a kiss to her cheeks, holding her close as he made his way to you

“She does huh? You’re gonna be a big sister aren’t you little duck”

When Chris made it to you, he pulled you into his chest, hugging you tightly to him, pulling back to press a firm kiss to your lips, he was over the moon, a second baby with the woman of his dreams?

“I can’t believe it angel, another baby…”

You let out a tearful laugh, wiping your eyes, Arlie’s hand coming to do the same thing, which only made you want cry more

“I love you��I can’t wait to experience this with you Chris”

He kissed your forehead, still trying to wrap his head around the news

“I love you too, both of my girls, we’re gonna have another baby!”

Arlie laughed when Chris started peppering both yours and her face with kisses, his beard tickling your skin, the three of you enjoying being this close to one another, sharing the joy in the moment before Arlie spoke up

“Momma and daddy got two duckies now!”

Laughter filled the kitchen, and you held Arlie close to you, she was right, you two had your first little duck, and now you were getting another one. Four years after the light of your life came into the world you were now celebrating the impending arrival of the second. The rest of the day spent sharing stories of baby Arlie, looking through albums, and of course the resurrection of overprotective dad to be Chris, though in your opinion, he never really left.

#little duck au💛🐥#little duck 💛🐥#chris evans x reader #chris evans x arlie mae #momma x arlie mae #chris evans x little duck💛🐥#momma x little duck 💛🐥#chris evans x wife reader #chris evans x pregnant!reader #chris evans au #chris evans imagine #chris evans fic #little duck head cannons🐥💛#rueswrites #chris evans & momma evans #chris evans x momma evans

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darcymariaphoster · 4 months ago

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densu and a prompt maybe .. .cooking or baking together...? :3c ❤❤ heehee

It took me a sec to figure out the direction I wanted to go with this, but when I got it, I had a bit of fun with it. lol. The end is blah but I feel like I got away from the prompt a bit and I could very much have just kept rambling. 😅

Anyway, this ended up with a word count of 859. So. I hope you enjoy it and that it makes the prompt! I'm sorry it took me forever.

It’s two in the morning and Mathias can’t sleep. He’s been staring at the ceiling for the last hour, after tossing and turning for the previous three. He’s a little surprised that Björn hasn’t woken up because of it, really. Finally, he carefully extracts himself from the bed and quietly sneaks from the room. Closing the door gently behind him, Mathias heads down the hall and towards the kitchen.

To be honest, this sort of thing has been a non-issue for him for quite some time. Sleepless nights come with his anxiety, which hasn’t been a problem for him for several months now; Björn’s presence has helped him greatly and he can never show him enough gratitude. But this week has been a sort of hellish week. It’s been one issue after another, and work has been busier than usual. His nerves are pretty frayed. He’s not all that surprised, mostly just frustrated. It’s always frustrating when his anxiety gets the better of him.

As quietly as he can, Mathias turns on the light in the kitchen and starts pulling out bowls and measuring cups and spoons before heading for the pantry for the dry ingredients he needs for his favorite cookies. These particular cookies have been his lifeline over the years. Half the time he doesn’t even eat more than a few of them; he’s gifted them to friends and family and even coworkers instead. It’s just the act of making them, giving himself something to focus, that he’s found helps a lot. His mother had stuck him in the kitchen a lot when he was younger to help him with his anxiety. The idea of following a recipe, being focused on weighing out the ingredients, making sure that he’s timing everything right -- it all helped calm his thoughts because he has to adjust what he’s thinking about. For some reason, he’d really enjoyed making these dumb cookies, and they’d become his go-to recipe for his anxious bouts. He has the recipe memorized now.

Mathias settles into his little rhythm, measuring ingredients as quietly as he can manage. He doesn’t get far before Björn makes his appearance, watching him in the doorway for a moment before he asks, “Can I help?”

Snapping his head up in surprise, Mathias pauses and then offers a small and sheepish smile. “I woke you up, didn’t I? I’m sorry. I was trying to be quiet.”

Björn smiles softly at him before he goes to the fridge to collect the wet ingredients for the cookies. “You did, but not because you were noisy. I thought I told you that you can wake me when you’re having a hard time…” He sets the eggs down on the counter, catching one of Mathias’s hands. He’s gentle, patient, and kind. And Mathias is sometimes just in awe of him, and in awe of the idea that he’s chosen him of all people to spend his life with.

“I know,” he sighs, glancing down at their hands. The other thing that grounds him. He feels a bit of the tension leave his chest and he flicks some flour playfully at Björn’s face, who wrinkles his nose and huffs in return. “This will go much faster if we have the mixer…?”

“On it,” Björn replies before dutifully going to get the mixer out and onto the counter. Once that’s in front of Mathias, he sets to getting the cookie sheets ready. When they’re baking for fun, which they do fairly often, they usually each pick something they want to bake and then set a rhythm of working around each other, setting timers for each other, turning off each other’s equipment before something over-whips -- it often feels like some sort of practiced dance.

But nights like tonight aren’t necessarily for fun, and Björn is here to simply support Mathias. They still get a pretty good rhythm set in a short amount of time -- Mathias loading the cookie sheets that Björn pops into the oven, cleaning up the dishes and the ingredients, pulling out one sheet to start cooling and getting cookies into bags. And by the time the last of the cookies are finished, the kitchen is cleaned up and two glasses of milk have been poured.

Björn pulls a barstool up to the island, picking up one of the cookies from the cooling rack. “Wanna talk about it?”

Mathias leans against the countertop, picking up one of his own cookies. “No, I want to enjoy the rest of this night with you, indulging in these cookies because I don’t know who to gift them to this week…” Björn laughs softly at that and mutters that he’s sure they can figure it out. “Thank you…”

“It never feels like a job, I promise,” Björn replies easily with a shrug. “I also want to make sure you know how much I love these cookies. I could eat all four dozen of these and never feel bad about it.” Mathias rolls his eyes, but he’s clearly pleased by the notion. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Mathias replies, tapping his cookie against Björn’s nose and following it up with a kiss.

#asks #my shit #my fic #hetalia #aph denmark #hws denmark #aph sweden #hws sweden #densu #thank you for the ask!#i promise that i never forgot about it!#i always love densu ❤️

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rainisawriter · 1 year ago

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I saw your requests are open and I have a request for murayama🐥 If Murayama's girlfriend prefers her love language to him by writing poetry for him and giving small gifts (like a simple drawing,painted stone,necklace and etc.) A girlfriend who is a little afraid of contact in a relationship What would he be like in this relationship? What would he think of this love language Headcanon or oneshot is not important to me, can you write something about it＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

Genre: Fluff, slice of life

Word Count: 2,461

A/N: Let me just say that this is the best banner I’ve made in a while lol I really like it. Also, I realized halfway through this request that you wanted them to be dating already but I was in too deep to fix it T_T)/ I hope you don’t mind and I hope you still enjoy this~

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The first time you met Murayama Yoshiki, you knew that he would become an important person in your life. Maybe you didn’t realize that he would become the love of your life, but you knew he would be important. There was just something about him that drew you in, like a fish unable to escape a whirlpool. Though, part of you wasn’t so sure you wanted to escape.

In the beginning, you weren’t sure how to get his attention but you knew you wanted it. You couldn’t just come out and say that you thought he was cute, so you did what you do best – you wrote him a poem and made him a bracelet to go along with it. Neither were anything fancy, but they had come from your heart and you hoped he would be able to sense that.

You couldn’t just waltz up to him and give it to him, though. He was the leader of Oya Koukou, always surrounded by guys who would lay their lives down for him. You didn’t feel quite so comfortable stepping into Oya, either, so you took a less direct route.

“Can you please give this to Murayama-san?” you smiled brightly, holding out the small box containing the two items, along with some cookies you had bought from the store. It was secured with a blue ribbon so the contents wouldn’t spill out.

Furuya and Seki exchanged a look, clearly unsure of how to feel about this situation. No one had ever been brave enough to come up to them unless they were looking for a fight and you were looking at them without fear. Rather, you were looking at them with kindness which caught them off guard. Oya students were never looked upon with kindness.

“Um…” Furuya cleared his throat, glancing at his friend before slowly taking the box from your hand. “Sure…”

“Thank you very much!” You smiled brightly, bowing to them before turning and rushing away.

The two men watched you blankly until you turned the corner.

“What if it’s a bomb?” questioned Seki, taking a step back.

Furuya scoffed, smacking him atop his bald head. “Don’t be an idiot.”

When Furuya finally presented the box to Murayama, the younger male wasn’t entirely sure how to feel. He assumed it was just a challenge letter or another glitter bomb. The latter made him pause in opening it, dark eyes shifting to the couch he sat upon. He was still finding glitter stuck to the fabric after the last one he had received and that was over two months ago.

With a scowl, he decided to head outside in order to open it, not wanting to have to clean up the mess again if it really was a glitter bomb. Not that he had actually put in any work the last time – it was mostly Furuya and the lower ranking among the part-timers.

Safely outside, he tugged the ribbon, letting it fall to the ground. When he lifted the lid, he could only blink at the contents, clearly confused. He reached for the neatly folded paper first, convinced that it just had to be a challenge letter, but it wasn’t.

He certainly wasn’t the brightest kid at Oya, so the poem left him scratching his head, though he’d be lying if he said it didn’t elicit a warm reaction from within him. The bracelet was made of brown rope with a baseball charm in the center, surrounded by two blue beads on either side of it.

The bag of cookies was snatched from the box by a grinning Seki but they were quickly taken back by the younger male, a scowl on his lips. His dark eyes fell on Furuya. “Oi, where did you get this?”

The tall man shrugged a shoulder. “Someone asked me to give it to you.”

“Who?”

“I didn’t get their name…”

Murayama exhaled in annoyance, his eyes returning to the poem. He wasn’t sure why, but every time his gaze slid across the words, it awoke a fluttering feeling in his chest. Though the full meaning was lost on him, he could understand a part of it. Whoever had written this clearly felt strongly about him, he could feel it in every stroke of the pen.

“Find them,” muttered Murayama, making the two older men exchange a look of surprise.

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“There, it’s done!” you grinned brightly, setting the paint brush down onto the table. Your hands and apron were covered in various colored paints but you didn’t mind – it was part of the creative process, after all! Sitting before you was the completed canvas, the colors vibrant and warm.

“Woah, that looks amazing,” commented your best friend. “Who is he?”

“Murayama Yoshiki.” The name felt nice on your tongue and you smiled warmly, admiring his silhouette in front of the school he adored so much. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“He better,” she scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. “Any guy would be lucky to receive this as a gift.”

“Thank you,” you nodded proudly. “I think it’s my best work!”

“When are you going to -”

The doors of the art room were thrown open, causing both of you to whip around in surprise. Your friend looked terrified, her body tensing up as she slowly backed away.

You slowly stood up from the stool, blinking at Furuya and Seki. “What are you two doing here? How did you even find me?”

Your friend looked at you in shock, leaning toward you and hissing, “You know these two?!”

“Not personally, no,” you replied nonchalantly, shifting to the side so they wouldn’t see the painting.

Furuya stepped farther into the room, glancing around and wrinkling his nose. When was the last time he had been inside a classroom that wasn’t destroyed? Elementary school, perhaps? It felt strange to him.

“Murayama sent us to get you.”

Your eyes widened, heart skipping a beat. “W-What for?”

Your friend’s voice shook as she stepped toward you, fingers curling around your arm. “Y-You can’t just… just walk in here and kidnap people!”

“Hah?” His eyes narrowed at her, his tone enough to make her flinch.

“It’s okay,” you told her softly, offering her a reassuring smile and a pat on the hand. “They won’t hurt me.” ‘I hope,’ you found yourself thinking.

“Are you sure…?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, we don’t have all day,” scowled Furuya, though his voice lacked its usual bite. “We’ve been looking for you for hours and we’re hungry.”

“Sorry for the trouble,” you apologized. “Just one moment, okay?”

He watched you closely as you gathered your things and he didn’t miss how you hid the canvas from him, carefully wrapping it up with brown paper. You felt nervous as you followed the two large men from the school, hyper aware of the strange and terrified looks of your classmates.

The worst your school ever saw was someone kicking the vending machine because their snack got stuck, so seeing these two obvious delinquents had everyone on edge, especially since you were following them. You kept your head high, though, smiling brightly to let everyone know you were okay. You hoped they wouldn’t sense your nervousness.

Arriving at Oya put you even more on edge because everyone was watching you, sizing you up to see if you were a fit challenge for them. You had no doubt in your mind that if Furuya and Seki hadn’t been with you, they wouldn’t have hesitated to attack you. As someone who couldn’t fight to save your life, you found yourself walking closer to Furuya for comfort.

The boys led you into the gym where Murayama was waiting, lying across the couch and tossing a ball into the air before catching it. Several groups of guys were scattered throughout the gym, all of whom looked at you with suspicion and confusion as you were led to the stage.

“We’re back!” announced Seki with a grin.

Murayama caught the ball, moving his head to the side. His eyes locked with yours and you felt your breath catch in your throat. You had seen him so many times before this, but it was always from a distance and never up close. Had he always been this pretty?

He slowly sat up, his feet pressing against the floor as he watched you. He lifted his hand, motioning for you to come closer but you were rooted to the spot, unable to tear your gaze away from those dark pools.

Furuya gave your shoulder a gentle shove, knocking you from your daze.

You clutched the painting to your chest as you slowly stepped closer, gaze on the ground in front of you.

“Oi,” called Murayama, his tone softer than you had expected. “Why did you give me these?”

Glancing up, you saw him holding the poem you had written. The bracelet was secured around his wrist, bringing a bright grin to your lips. “You’re wearing it!”

He tilted his head to the side. “That’s usually what people do with bracelets, yeah?”

“Yes, I just… I thought you might have thrown it away,” you admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m really happy you kept it.”

Why was his heart picking up speed? He wasn’t sure, but it made him feel vulnerable and he didn’t like feeling that way. His eyes flickered to the brown package held protectively against your chest. “What’s that?”

You felt warmth flood your cheeks, grip tightening around the painting. Yes, you were quite proud of what you had created but… were you read to show it to him? Giving him the poem was easy because you weren’t there to see his reaction. If you showed him the painting now, you wouldn’t be able to avoid it if he didn’t like it.

“It’s, um… it’s nothing! Just a school project,” you lied, laughing nervously.

Furuya scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. “It’s a painting.”

“You saw it?!” Your wide eyes snapped to him and he smirked.

Murayama’s eyes narrowed at the two of you, feeling jealous that Furuya knew what it was when you refused to show it to him. Clicking his tongue, he stood up and jumped down from the stage, closing the distance in just a few strides. He reached toward you without thinking and you winced, taking a step back.

His brow furrowed, hand falling back to his side. “Are you afraid of me?”

“No!” You replied quickly, shaking your head. “Sorry, I’m just not very good with being touched.”

“Oh.”

You nodded, biting your lower lip in thought. After a moment of silence, you slowly held out the painting. “I made this for you, Murayama-san. I hope you like it.”

His heart skipped a beat at how cute you are and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to be receiving a gift from you. He took the package, careful not to touch your fingers as he did so. He tugged away the brown paper, dark eyes scanning the canvas.

You watched his expression carefully, but he remained stoic, causing you to bite your lip again. “You probably don’t like paintings, huh? I didn’t really think about it, I’m sorry.”

Though his face remained blank, there was a war zone going on inside of him. He was absolutely touched by the painting you had done of him. He was touched by the bracelet and the poem. He couldn’t remember a time he had felt happier, though he knew taking over Oya was a close second.

“I love it,” he breathed out, eyes shimmering with sincerity as he stepped closer to you.

A bright smile came to your lips and he was sure it had just brightened the room. “I’m so glad!”

“Why are you giving me these things?” Murayama was dumb, but he wasn’t that dumb. He had a good idea of the answer, but he wanted to hear you say it. He wanted to be sure.

“Ah, well…” you rubbed the back of your head, cheeks warming. “I really like you, Murayama-san.”

“Yoshiki. Call me Yoshiki.”

You felt like you were going to burst with happiness. “Yoshiki-san, then.”

He adored the way his name sounded coming from you and he wanted to hear it again. His mind was racing as he tried to grasp onto the words he wanted to say. He just wanted to ask you out on a date, it couldn’t be that hard! Yet the words continued to escape him, much to his frustration.

“Yoshiki-san?”

“What?”

You hesitated for a moment. “Will you…”

His heart skipped a beat. Were you about to ask him out?

“…look at the painting tonight? In the dark, I mean.”

His heart dropped, a frown tugging at his lips. “Why?”

“Please?” You pressed your hands together, giving him a pleading look that he couldn’t being himself to say no to.

“Fine.”

“Thank you!” You glanced at your watch and clicked your tongue. “I have to go, but don’t forget, okay?”

Before he could utter a word, you turned on your heel and rushed away. Murayama’s frown deepened as he looked at the painting. What was so special about looking at it at night? It made no sense.

Then again, nothing about this situation made any sense to him.

That night, he waited for the sky to darken before he slipped away from the gym, painting in hand. He headed into an empty classroom, not turning on the light and nearly tripping over a desk lying on the floor. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, kicking it out of the way.

It was then that something caught his eye. Something was glowing a faint green in the darkness. He slowly lifted the painting, squinting at the words. Painted in the bottom corner with glow in the dark paint were the words, will you go out with me?

He scoffed in disbelief, the corners of his lips sliding upward. What a cheeky little thing you were!

To him, you were strange. He didn’t understand poetry or painting or making bracelets. He didn’t understand why you liked him or how you had come to do so, but he admired the fact that you had approached Furuya and Seki without fear.

You didn’t look at any of them with disgust or fear, just kindness. People were always quick to judge those at Oya, and rightfully so, but they were rarely ever given a chance. You were willing to give them one.

Murayama smiled as he leaned against the window sill, the cool night air ruffling his hair. He could definitely picture you as the queen of Oya, as his queen.

“I hope you’re ready,” he hummed softly. “Tomorrow, I make you mine~”

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