#i love him but I want him to grow up finally
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retiredteabag · 2 days ago
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Nobody yearns like Satoru yearns.
I mean this in several ways. Satoru will long for something in a steadfast fashion. Unwavering, undeterred, if he loves, he loves to the point of loss. And after that loss, he will continue to love some more.
When I say nobody yearns like he does, I also mean it to say, you would never know. He would hide his adoration behind playful jokes and bold smiles. He would pretend, perhaps embarrassed by the intensity of his affection, that his care for you was nothing more than platonic.
He would tease you and make funny quips, badgering you about your day or something he found equally interesting, and once he would finally get you going, have you sharing little bits and pieces of yourself, he would really, truly, listen.
I believe many people would see Satoru as a poor listener, he had a habit of speaking over someone and thinking his opinion was gospel, but when it came to those he cared for, he wanted nothing more than to sit with them, listen and watch them talk.
"What?!" You would eventually have to say, incredulous.
His eyes would widen, but a grin would fill his face, "Whaat~~?" He would question, alarm bells shooting up his spine at being caught. He had been lost staring at you and now you were uncomfortable.
"You're being creepy! How come you're not saying anything?" You would point at him dramatically and wait for a response.
Satoru would sit up, sarcasm rearing to go, "Ahhhhh I see~" He would start leaning in, "You just like to hear me talk, huh?" Poking at your cheek, his hand was swatted away. "I don't blame you, my voice is verrrrrrry attractive."
A highly disturbed expression crossed your face, "What are you- Is that what all your lady friends tell you?"
Finally leaning back, he would feel his heart race, using it as a faux show of offense, his palm would feel every frantic beat. But he would keep his cool.
"Don't feel bad for recognizing it too, I'm irresistible, I know. Look at you, all flustered because I was looking in your direction." He would hide the growing blush in his ears by haughtily huffing his nose to the sky.
"I'm not!- Satoru!- You- Ugh!" You would swat at him again and he would let his infinity down to feel you.
"No need to feel embarrassed, I'm used to it!" He would lean back, grinning.
Yes, for better or worse, nobody yearns quite the way he does.
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thrfted · 3 days ago
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꩜ DATING MR. CRAWLING .ᐟ
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SFW GN!Reader HCS after the blissful love life ending.
Italics is in the other world’s language! Sometimes more the implied message rather than a direct translation. I'll probably do Mr. Hood later too :3 !
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Your bed is much more comfortable than anything in the other world, and it only makes it better that mr. Crawling gets to be in it with you. He grows accustomed to your nightly routine and is always excited to cuddle up. Big spoon, little spoon, facing each other—all of it makes him as happy as can be!
(^ As someone who still has a twin size, some of us have to invest in a much bigger one lol)
Generally so so affectionate and loves when you’re physically affectionate !! You can kiss his head and he’ll giggle, maybe point at his face and ask “Again!” You leave kisses all over his face, and his hands pull you in close when you finally kiss his lips.
One of Mr. Crawling's strongest traits is his patience—especially when it comes to you. The first day you come home without him trailing behind (much to his dismay, and honestly yours), he’s at the door to greet you, smiling and giggling as you wrap your arms around him. You find out he hadn’t done much but wait for you to come home. (With no complaints of boredom on his part, and all the worry on yours.)
He'll sit as you play with his hair, trying out new hairstyles or putting in clips. “Me cute? Pretty?” he asks. And if you let him do the same in return, he'll giggle and compliment you too.
I think he’d look through your closet and enjoy watching you try on clothes too. He compliments you and feels each of the fabrics, liking the ones that feel softest. He might try on some of the accessories if none of the actual clothes (sort of…) fit, and is really happy when you match!
Mr. Crawling is a fast learner. You worry he'll feel overwhelmed with all the new technology and words and whatever else, so you focus on making sure he’s comfortable. But he points at things and ask what they are, repeating after you. “You teach me language?” he asks and you laugh softly before nodding. “I teach you language.”
He will accidentally touch a hot stove top or pot if you don't remember to warn him beforehand. Then whenever you cook he gets worried you'll hurt yourself, watching to make sure you're alright (forgive him if he pulls your hand away and says “Danger! Don't touch!”)
Since he doesn't know his birthday, you make the day you returned special instead! He's happy to just stay in with you, eating a good meal and watching or learning something new.
Mr. Crawling also learns when yours is and does his best to make it a good day for you too. He tries singing happy birthday and makes food with what you have at home, mimicking the meals he's seen you prepare.
You teach him how to call your phone while you're away. It's supposed to “be for emergencies,” but you both know he's going to call just to hear your voice, and who are you to complain?
I think he gets sad sometimes when he sees or hears you talking to friends—the way you communicate and laugh so easily compared to conversations with him. The other world's language itself is limited, and he hasn't learned enough of your own. You spend some evenings reassuring him, reminding him learning is a process, and it doesn't change your feelings!!
He does his best to learn on his own. You buy (exercise) books and show him shows for younger kids and he spends a lot of time alone with them, both to surprise you, and also just because he loves talking with you and wants to talk more and more.
The first time he speaks your language is a special day. After many days of calling out that you’re back, he decides to say it himself. “You home!” You almost drop everything in your hands, and that’s when he continues, “Miss you.” It feels odd hearing it in his voice, but he’s grinning so wide, and you won’t find out for a while just how excited and nervous he was waiting for you to get home.
One of Mr. Crawling’s favourite things to say and hear is “I love you.” Every time you say it, he gets all giddy and tries to get closer to you (as if that’s possible while already cuddling in bed). He says it a lot while you’re doing chores or really nothing, just to remind you and see you smile. There’s no way in his mind for those 3 words to lose their meaning, or become any less special.
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maybankswhore · 2 days ago
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WANNA BE YOURS ’ JJ MAYBANK.
summary: jj’s been avoiding you after your break up with john b , but not for the reason you think.
request from prompt list: “i can’t stay away from you.”
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When you think back to your relationship with John B , you aren’t sure when it stopped being meaningful.
Of course the relationship had its moments. The ones that you could look back on and smile , cherish the memory. But it was different. Because you didn’t look back on those memories and feel sad. You didn’t cry that they were fleeting. You didn’t miss it.
It was more of a grateful feeling. A feeling of fulfillment and enjoyment. But not sad.
In the end , the both of you felt it. That connection wasn’t there. The relationship wasn’t growing. You weren’t falling in love with eachother , more so , falling into a friendship that the both of you were scared to let go.
He had become your person and vice versa. The comfort the both of you had gotten from eachother , how honest and vunerable the two of you were able to be was something special.
But the relationship ran its course and John B admitted that he had started developing feelings for Sarah Cameron.
You weren’t mad at him or upset. He cried , feeling ashamed and scared of what it meant: you held his hand , brushed his face and encouraged him to explore it.
Breaking the news to your friends were the hardest part. Pope and Kiara were all knowing , especially Pope who you had confided in once before. They were supportive , and promised that nothing would change in the Pogue’s dynamic.
JJ on the other hand , he looked like a deer in headlights. He fidgeted alot , kept glancing up at you to study your face. JJ could tell that you didn’t look upset and he wasn’t sure what that meant. He wanted to yell at John B , push him and curse him for taking something as beautiful as you for granted.
But he couldn’t.
In fact , he couldn’t even face you.
JJ had always been taken with you. Since the moment he met you on the beach , everything about you just left him speechless. He though you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and he remembered how he gushed to Pope about you , ranting and raving about the girl he met.
Imagine his surprise when you showed up at the Chateau two days later next to John B— grinning up at him with stars in your eyes. He was deflated. Hurt. But he couldn’t blame anyone but himself for not making a move that night.
For two years he watched you and John B be together. And in those two years he had gotten to know you. All of you. That didn’t help. He thought the feelings he had for you would disappear. Girl after girl came into his life until he realized , he looked for you in every girl he met.
Although it was hard for him and it hurt him to slowly fall in love with you while you were seemingly falling in love for his bestfriend , it was easier for him to accept the fact you were off limits because you were taken by said bestfriend. Now that you were single , free and John B was running off with the Kook Princess , JJ wasn’t confident that he could just. . . not make a move , not confess everything he had pent up all these years.
But God , did he love you.
JJ had made it a point to avoid you. Any time he saw you at the Wreck , he ducked and hoped you hadn’t seen him. When you were invited to the Chateau or to the marsh , JJ always found some excuse to give so he wouldn’t be there. So he wouldn’t have to see you.
It was killing him on the inside. He was itching to see you again. To finally touch you , feel you , be yours. But he was afraid. Afraid of rejection , how it would to his friends , how John B would feel especially.
It was too messy and he couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t.
Eventually you had noticed JJ’s sudden change in behavior.
“Is it just me or does he like , suddenly hate me?” You mentioned to Kiara while the two of you sunbathed , JJ affectively avoiding you by staying in the water.
Kiara scoffed. “I wouldn’t say hate.”
You were confused by what she meant.
But days turned into weeks , and you couldn’t take it anymore. You missed him. It made you feel like he blamed you for the break up with John B or he resented you for whatever reason.
Your knuckles rapped on the door to his room where you knew he was staying in John B’s hallway. The other Pogue’s went surfing and told you JJ wasn’t coming because he was sick.
You finally had enough.
“JJ freaking Maybank! I know you’re in there so open up the damn door.” You yelled through the wood loudly , a fixated look on your face.
Nobody answered and you continued knocking on the door. “JJ! What the hell is your problem with me?” Your voice was just as loud. But after minutes of silence , you stopped knocking. Suddenly you felt all of your anger disappear. You felt small , and for some reason your chest began to hurt.
“JJ. . .” the anger was all gone , now your voice was soft and sad. Cracking at the end of his name. “Why won’t you talk to me?”
As if JJ’s own heart broke at the sound of your voice , he sighed heavily and got up from his place on the bed. The door flung open and in front of you stood a disheveled JJ. His hair was a mess , there were bags under his eyes and you could tell he had been crying. “I can’t stay away from you—”
“Really? Because it seems like that’s all you’ve been doing these past couple weeks is staying away from me.”
“I can’t stay away from you but I have to.” JJ finished his sentence. Scratching the back of his neck , he refused to meet your eyes. “I just need some time.”
You blinked confused. Your heart squeezing. “Are you mad at me? What did I do? Is this about John B?”
JJ groaned. “This isn’t about John B! Nothing about this is about John B right now.”
He snapped at you and it took you aback. Your eyes widened , not expecting that from him. It made you frown and you took a step closer to him. “JJ please. . . tell me what’s going on.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I just— because I can’t.”
“You can’t or you won’t?”
“I love you.” JJ blurted. Now he was fully looking at you. “Okay? I love you. Not in the friend way. Not in a Pogue way. The in love with you way—” JJ suddenly felt the world lift off of his shoulders. It all started coming out like word vomit and he couldn’t stop it , but he didn’t want to either. “I love the way your hair gets all knotted up in the saltwater and it takes you hours to comb it out. I love that you wake up every morning and eat the same exact breakfast and makes sure everyone else in the house eats before they leave. I love that you love the animals and you care about nature. I even like you stupid little romance books that I pretend I hate hearing about when secretly I wish we were in our own love story. . .” he took a deep breath.
“I’ve loved you since the moment I met you , sweetheart and I’m trying to make it go away but it’s not.”
You were stunned. It all hit you at once and you stared. Mouth agape , eyes wide , and your cheeks flushed pink. It was the sweetest confession you had ever gotten , and the way JJ looked at you like you were the only girl in the world only added to the butterflies now swarming in your stomach.
“Why did you—” you stuttered , trying to figure out the words to say. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would it have changed anything?” JJ said defeated.
“It would have changed everything.” You admitted.
You weren’t sure what was going to happen now or how to navigate the news. Though you did know that something changed. It would forever be changed.
And you were okay with that.
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thedaselcor · 1 day ago
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Here's my take on this one, I did it as my Chater 13!
Thorsday, the 2nd of Maius, 524.
Arthur woke to Merlin thrashing, convulsing through some sort of night terror. He held Merlin close, and tried to keep him from injuring himself through the spasms, but he was entirely uncertain whether that was even the right thing to do.
He noticed, as the minutes went on, that Merlin had been getting increasingly warmer. With growing terror he realized that Merlin was incredibly hot, burning up as if the dreams themselves were causing some sort of incredible magical fever. Arthur couldn't remember the last time he’d felt so powerless. It was a relief then, if a surprise, when Morgana knocked on their door and entered as soon as Arthur was able to stammer some sort of assent.
Morgana walked in, with a confidence and certainty of action Arthur couldn't remember ever seeing in her before. The room seemed to drop in temperature as she crossed in, and, in moments, she brought a hand to Merlin’s chest and one to his face. Arthur could feel the cold radiating off her. Merlin’s temperature crashed drastically as he woke with a start to the cold shock that rippled through from the point of Morgana's contact, and he breathed in sharp and deep like a man just saved from drowning.
“More like the pyre…” Morgana said, responding to the thought Arthur had never voiced.
Merlin panted as he assessed the situation, assessed the room around him, came back to reality, blue eyes betraying an equal measure of absolute understanding and complete bafflement.
Arthur shifted his gaze to Morgana, searching her face for the answers he didn’t know how to ask for. “How did you know?” he managed to ask finally, though the question was woefully inadequate.
“Sometimes we can hear each other, like when I was in the library, like when you helped us with the druid boy,” Morgana answered, but it wasn’t an answer to the question Arthur had been trying to ask.
“No, I mean…” he shook his head, trying to assemble a better question. Still, he only managed, “ how did you know ?”
“Oh!” Morgana exclaimed, as if understanding the misshapen question better this time. “It’s not as complicated as it seems, it was just illusion magic, I focused on making Merlin feel cold rather than changing anything, normally it wouldn’t affect other people, but you and Merlin are… very close , magically speaking. It’s… unusual.”
“ No,” Arthur let out a long, frustrated sigh as he forced himself to reshape the question, to add words. “How did you know about the dream, about the pyre?”
Morgana let out an uncomfortable laugh, as if that question was too obvious to need an answer.
Merlin, gaining more and more of his senses by the minute, ran his fingers gently along Arthur’s arm before answering, pragmatically, “all my dreams end in the pyre, Arthur. Beheadings are reserved for strangers.”
He was too kind to say the rest. Too kind to say, explicitly, your father would punish me for loving you, and he’d make sure that I burned alive if he ever knew the most beautiful part of me , but Arthur still heard it. 
It had been easier to ignore his father’s monstrosity when it wasn’t aimed at the people he wanted most in the world to protect, when it was abstract obligation to Uther versus abstract duty to the people of Camelot. Now, when someone he loved stood in the balance between, when they faced a worse fate because he loved them--the burgeoning flame of Arthur’s hate, so small before this Beltane trip to the country, was bellowed anew by the vile truth of Uther Pendragon, and it threatened to grow and grow until it could consume the world.
Arthur said nothing. He buried his face in Merlin’s shoulder, and dangled in the silence. Arthur had often felt lost in the world or words and feelings, in the world realisations like this one always seemed to thrust him in, and he’d long since learned to be silent and seem uncaring rather than ever risk seeming incompetent--in front of his father, in front of his kingdom, in front of anyone. 
Now, when what Arthur wanted most in the world was to connect, to be soft and vulnerable and honest, to do anything other than dangle in the silence, he had no idea how to find a ledge back out of the chasm. But Merlin just kept running his fingers along Arthur’s arm, and Mrogana didn’t give him the look she often gave him when she thought he was cold or uncaring. It was like they saw him there, dangling and lost, deep beneath the mask that had always rendered him invisible before. Being seen was new, hopeful but uncomfortable. Being seen protected the spriteling flame, promised to direct it to purpose where once it would have been extinguished along with everything hopeful in Arthur’s spirit. Being seen could change everything.
merlin magic reveal fic where arthur asks “why didn’t you tell me?” and merlin says, mirthless smile and haunted eyes “all my dreams end in fire. fire and burning and dying”
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jambalaya-enthusiast · 3 days ago
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Can I ask for Headcanons/Scenario with the crew members where it's a normal tulpar haul. But the reader is an extremely experienced captain of another ship,and they're older,more built and more strict. Like think 6'7,built like an extreme weightlifter,very classy and formal.
And they're on the tulpar to look after everything because it's an incredibly important shipment? What would the crew members reactions be to the reader appearing very strict,no-nonsense,cold and condescending. But once they get close, the reader is actually very nice.
also can it be a male reader? Thank you! I love your writing. <3
Melting the Ice away.
Crew Members x Male! Older! Strict! Reader. [ Reader is a high ranking captain of another pony express ship ]
a/n; this ask was basically buried deep in my inbox,i was just scrolling through and found it.
Tulpar! Captain,Curly.
Oh boy,and they used to say that curly was the most able employee at pony express. Clearly they lied,Cause LOOK. AT. YOU.
For the first time in his career,he felt intimidated.
The way you basically hovered over him,gave him chills ngl.
He admires you so fucking hard, your efficiency ,your capability, and your experienced nature. you need something? Grant Curly is on it!... He found himself trying to... Impress you???
He was basically always looking for your approval at things,no matter how small or trivial it was. He needed your opinion.
He was also starting to wonder wether or not the feeling of intimidation... was rather something else.
He is definitely feelin a lil somethin somethin.
When he actually got to know you,and saw how kind and sweet you actually were. This guy just fell,he fell guys,he just fell.
Co-Pilot, Jimmy.
Manz is PISSED.
He is freaking LIVID,as if Curly wasn't already enough,bossing him around.
He'll never ever admit it to anyone,but he was basically scared of you,of how... Domineering you were.
He is jealous of how put together you were,always effortlessly classy.
He couldn't decide whether he wanted to be you,or wanted to be with you.
He didn't even notice it,but you found him staring,so intently that it actually concerned you.
Whenever you would try to interact with him he'll make up an excuse and run away.
But he,too wanted to get on your good side.
He'll die before ever admitting it,but he was craving your praise so fucking bad.
He is just dying on the inside,he desperately wants to hear you call him a 'Good Boy'.
Maybe he'll have to impress you some other way,who knows?
Nurse, Anya.
Let's be fr,the first time Anya saw you,her heart skipped a bit. I mean c'mon! Can you blame her? She doesn't see handsome, capable, disciplined male colleagues on the regular,does she?
Cut her some slack for staring! She can't help herself for wanting to admire you!
Like the others,she also tries her best to live up to your expectations,to be on your good list. She tries to make sure all your needs are met,(which aren't even bothersome,you prefer to do things your own anyway) but she always insists upon helping you out!
You began to notice that no matter who else wasn't around,Anya was always there in the corner of your eye. Was she... Following you around?
By Gods,she can't help it! No other person on the ship is as pleasant to be around as you! She feels at ease when she's with you. And you don't mind.
When she finally gets to know the real you, the butterflies in her stomach settle down into something even more soothing and calming.
Her puppy crush is beginning to grow,maybe someday in the near future, she'll ask you for things, beyond the professional limit.
Mechanic, Swansea.
He is just glad that there is someone on this godforsaken ship who has the screws in their head straight.
He does feel a bit relaxed that he doesn't have to worry about things going wrong with you onboard.
He sometimes has you deal with Daisuke instead. More relaxation time for him.
He can count on you. And he likes you the best on the ship.
Doesn't shy away from praising you in front of others.
Intern,Daisuke.
"WOWZER MISTER YOU'RE SO COOL!".
He was a bit scared of you at first,but quickly warmed up to how refreshing you were.
You were strict,yes. But not as much as Swansea. You never scolded him,or complained about him to others.
Instead you always, efficiently taught him how to do things properly.
The way you spoke,the way you presented yourself. He didn't find it strange how his other, older, colleagues were swooning over you either.
Grew to like you the best on the ship as well,always right by your side.
He does think you're hot,but is intimidated pretty easily.
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anyaskalliope · 3 days ago
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Mel and Jayce Deserved Much Better
After experiencing horrors and walking through valleys and shadows, I truly hoped Mel would break down this season and unleash her emotions. Especially since she spent the entire season unlearning hardness with Jayce being so openly affectionate and emotional. This final act was honestly a slap in the face.
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The one person she hoped would offer her that safety net to do this completely shuts her down. Mel was always cognizant of his feelings, constantly looking out for him, advising him, and teaching him. She shared with him her deepest insecurities and vulnerabilities. I can understand if Mel and Jayce are both going their separate ways because of the Noxus plot but to have him be this cold, and distant, and show a lack of understanding toward her plight is bizarre.
Mel comes back with a changed appearance and a different demeanor, and he doesn't even ask what happened. He seems to not care. Jayce isn't even giving her a chance to explain herself and just keeps coming at her and you can see the moment when Mel puts all her walls back up. Don't even get me started on the fact that he held the hammer in his hand for most of the time.
Their interactions during this act paint Jayce as one large hypocrite. He benefitted from all of Mel's teachings, from her providing comfort and affection, to her investments in Hextech. Asking her why she didn't save Viktor like she had something against him was wild.
This is the same Mel who offered comfort to Jayce when Viktor was severely injured during the explosion. The same Mel who immediately understood why Jayce left after their night together, recognized the importance of Viktor to Jayce.
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If Mel could protect everybody in that room, she would. When she explains her lack of awareness of her abilities to him, he just keeps going on and on.
And the apology with the "passenger" line was just bad. It lacked a certain level of remorse that I would expect from Jayce of all people. Where is that good-hearted man who could tell when people aren't feeling their best, that person who always wanted to help people and make their lives better?
I think the Survivor Jayce is not the Jayce that Mel fell in love with, this is another man. The Jayce she fell in love with died at the bottom of that cave. The survivor Jayce is Viktor's passenger.
Jayce abandoned not just Mel but also his mother who protected him many times to be with Viktor in the afterlife?? In what universe is Jayce pulling that shit?
Now Mel's heading off to Noxus. A nation that doesn't align with her values and morals and would most likely have to harden herself to rule or have influence there. I hate it all. I hate that Black women always have to be strong. We actually had an opportunity to see a Black woman who grew up in that environment slowly shed those walls with a man who actually loved her and was openly affectionate and vulnerable. I'm so sad that it was taken from us. I'm sick and tired of the strong Black woman trope.
With how mischaracterized her motives and actions towards Jayce are, I for one cannot say that I'm excited for a spin-off series with Mel as a main character. Not with this writing team and this fandom.
To me, this show ended in season 1 with Zaun becoming independent, Jinx not firing the rocket, and Mel and Jayce growing together as individuals and as a couple.
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heavyhitterheaux · 1 day ago
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Hello
See Me Through You Series
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You had me at hello
Synopsis: The day that you met the love of your life and didn't realize it until almost a year later
Series Masterlist
Stepping onto the sidewalk as you had just left the building where your journalism class had just ended, your phone suddenly vibrated in your back pocket. It took you a minute to grab it, seeing as both of your hands were occupied at the moment. Doing a balancing act with your purse, backpack, keys and your binder that contained your notes, but was too big to fit in your backpack, you finally had a free hand.
Pulling it out of your back pocket, you saw it was your younger twin brother by three minutes Ja'Marr calling on facetime and took no hesitation to answer it. This was his fifth call to you today and knew that about four more would come your way and the worst part about it was that it wasn't even noon.
Not that you were upset about it. If your little brother called and needed you, he always became the priority and everything would be dropped at that very moment.
“What does your ugly ass want?” You asked him as his face came into view. He promptly rolled his eyes and sucked his teeth before saying anything. You could tell that he was in the gym and was probably waiting on you to get there since you had promised to work out with him.
“If I'm ugly, so are you because we're twins, stupid!”
“No, that's what mom and dad tell you but they actually found you in a dumpster and felt sorry for you and took you in.” You told him as you laughed and started to make your way back to your car to head to your apartment that was off campus.
It was only a few miles down the road which you were thankful for and the good part is that you could also drive home to see your parents on the weekends if you wanted to.
You were relieved when Ja'Marr decided to attend LSU with you because the two of you had never been apart in your entire lives. Deep down you knew that you would have eventually adjusted to him not being at the same college as you, but also glad that you didn't have to go that route.
“Y/N!”
“Just kidding! What do you need assistance with, little one?”
“Little one? I'm 6’1 and you are BARELY 5 feet on a good day. Try again.”
You were suddenly taken aback as you saw someone come into the frame behind him and did a double take once you recognized who it was.
Growing up in a sports filled household, college football as well as the NFL was not foreign to you. You watched both of them and knew players as well as their stats forwards and backwards. So to your surprise, you were actually seeing him in real time. You heard of the transfer happening, but it was different seeing him right in front of you.
So the rumors were true, he was really here.
Joe Burrow
Who used to play for Ohio State apparently was now playing for LSU.
“Ja'Marr, I will hang up. State your business or move on.”
“I thought you were supposed to meet me at the gym to work out AND bring my headphones that I know for a fact you stole.”
“YOU CAN'T PROVE IT!”
“Hmm, funny. I recall you asking me to use them last week and I haven't seen them since.”
“I threw them away.”
“WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DEMAND ON STRESSING ME OUT? And I have someone here I want you to meet.”
“Who?”
“Will you just hurry up and get here and stop arguing with me!? I can pick your ass up and throw you across the room.”
“Hmm, sounds like a threat. I'm calling mommy. Bye.”
“Uh hold on, WAIT! DON'T CALL HER!”
Click.
Once back in your apartment, you quickly changed into your pink and black Fabletics workout set with your matching HOKAS and went on the search not only for Ja'Marr's headphones, but also yours. Since he let you borrow his, you didn’t bother trying to find yours even though you know you should have.
The both of you worked out with each other several times a week and it was important seeing as he played football and you were on the gymnastics team with your best friend, Erin.
Putting your curly hair into a high bun since you didn’t have time to straighten it this morning, you grabbed your wallet, water bottle, and keys before making your way back down to your car and heading to the gym.
Walking inside, you spotted him along with Joe in the corner next to the weight rack and promptly came up behind him and attempted to pick him up as you saw Joe's face giving a small smirk because of the gesture. You admit that you didn't realize how tall Joe actually was and you noticed that he was taller than Ja'Marr when they stood next to one another.
“HEY! Oh, it's just you. Joe, my big little sister by three minutes and she will never let you forget it, Y/N and Y/N this is Joe. And you are never going to be able to pick me up.” He told you while patting the top of your head as you were now trying to pick up his left leg.
“Just you watch. It's going to happen one day when you least expect it. Anyway, Hi Joe, and Ja'Marr you should know better. I already know who you are.” You told him and he looked a little confused before greeting you.
“Hey, you do gymnastics right? I saw you compete over the summer.”
You smiled before nodding, taken aback that he knew who you were also. Not a lot of attention was put on gymnastics unless it was during the Olympics. Your goal was to go to Tokyo in 2020.
“Didn't take you for a gymnastics type of guy.” You replied while attempting to fix your hair that had now fallen out of the bun you put it in. You blamed it on not being tight enough the first time.
“It's entertaining to watch.”
“Hmm, because of the outfits?” You asked as you were trying to feel him out and you could've swore you heard Ja'Marr mutter something under his breath.
“No, I just think it's insane how you can do all those different types of exercises and routines just like it's nothing. You can literally visualize where you're going to land before it happens.”
“It's the same with football when you think about it. You're a quarterback so I can imagine that before you decide where you're going to throw and who you're going to throw to what the end result will be.”
“Something like that.”
“Stop interrogating the man! Sports journalism is her major and she thinks she's smart. So she of course knows all of the players and their stats. I’m convinced she’s going to start memorizing playbooks and try to get on the field with us.” Ja'Marr said as he turned to Joe and you pinched his arm resulting in a yelp as Joe let out a small laugh.
“I'm smarter than your dumbass. That's for sure and are we going to work out or stand here all day? Besides I wasn't interrogating. You can't get to know someone unless you talk to them and ask questions.” You told him as you gave him his headphones.
“I'm ignoring you and what are we working on today?”
“Hmm full body I guess. I already did my legs, back, shoulders and arms this week.” You answered as you shrugged and put in your headphones. Flipping through your phone, you tried to find the perfect playlist in order to get through the workout and hopefully finish strong.
You usually hated working out with Ja’Marr since he would always want to add on something extra at the end of it when you were ready to go home and crawl into the bed.
Joe and Ja’Marr quickly agreed and it was decided that the three of you would warm up by running on the treadmill for three miles before going back to the weight rack.
On your second mile, your music was suddenly cut off by your phone ringing. Looking down you saw that it was Trevor, your boyfriend of one year who happened to play baseball at LSU and that was one of your primary reasons for going there. Also having your brother there was a plus.
Deep down you knew that your brother didn’t like him, but to you he was the best thing since sliced bread and could do no wrong in your eyes. But what you didn’t notice was Ja’Marr glancing over at your phone and seeing it was him and rolling his eyes.
You simply finished out your third mile before going to call him back leaving Ja’Marr there along with Joe who had turned down the speed to a brisk walk as he had done the same.
“I fucking hate her boyfriend.”
“Wait, what? He’s here too?” Joe asked as he was looking around.
“No, I saw that he called her and I’m guessing that she went to go and call him back. I can’t fucking stand him and she could do so much better. But she’s happy and the last thing I want to do is ruin that for her. He honestly treats her like shit from what I’ve seen, but I guess she doesn't see it that way.” He confessed as Joe had his eyes on you as you were standing in the corner. He figured that you were on facetime by the way you were holding it and making gestures with your hands.
“But he makes sure to never do that shit in front of me because I will take his ass down. I’m always going to protect my sister. I honestly wish that she was with someone who respected her and didn’t take her for granted like his ass does. She is honestly the sweetest most generous person despite how much we might bicker and she doesn’t deserve someone who takes her for granted. But you'll eventually be able to see how sweet she is for yourself. She literally lives up under me. When you see me, nine times out of ten she’s not too far behind.”
It was at that moment, you walked back over to them and Ja’Marr could tell that you were visibly upset.
“Pebbles, what’s wrong?” Ja’Marr asked but you simply waved him off.
Ever since you two were about six months old, your aunt on your mother's side started to call the two of you Pebbles and Bam Bam and the nicknames had stuck. It also was no coincidence since your mom used to love watching the Flintstones when she was small just like you and Ja’Marr did.
“Nothing, I’m fine. Let’s hurry up and get this done.” You responded as you felt tears forming in your eyes and you did your best to quickly wipe them away.
“You aren't fine so don't stand up here and lie to me. Did he upset you?”
Joe could now see that he was visibly upset which was in turn making you more upset.
“Don't worry about it, I just want to get this done so I can go back to my apartment and study.”
“If you need me to kick his ass, I stay ready.”
“JA'MARR! NO!”
“And Joe will back me up too. You should see how much he can bench press. No one will know.”
“I… I appreciate both of you very much for offering even though you literally just threw Joe in there without giving him a say in the matter, but I promise I'm good.”
“I'm here for assistance if needed.” Joe said and that put a small smile on your face.
“Yeah about that, show me how much you can bench press.”
“Oh lord, Joe you got her started. Now her competitive ass is going to see if she can beat you. She might be small, but don't let that fool you. She also eats like a grown ass man.”
“Bam Bam, keep talking and I will throw that 60 pound dumbbell at your head.”
The workout was winding down and you wanted to work on your pull ups a little bit more since the upper body was your weakest area. You stood in front of the pull up bar and noticed that Ja'Marr was in the middle of his set, so the only other option was to ask Joe for help to reach the bar since there was no way in the world that you would be able to get up there on your own. But he beat you to it as he walked over to you.
“Need some help?”
“Hmm, definitely yes since there is no way in the world I'll be able to reach it by myself.” You replied as you both laughed.
“I got you. Jump up and I'll lift you the rest of the way.”
Nodding your head, you turned around and felt Joe's light touch on both of your sides. You couldn't quite explain it, but when his hands made contact with your skin, the feeling that it gave you felt unreal. Almost if it was something out of a movie. Shaking it out of your mind, you focused on the task in front of you as you jumped up.
As promised Joe helped you the rest of the way and stepped back once he saw that you were hanging onto the bar.
“Do you mind just standing there to spot me? Pull ups aren't my strongest thing.”
“Yeah, I'll be right here. Go ahead, you think you can do twenty?”
“Hmm, let's find out. I think I can.”
Fifteen of them came with ease and when you started to struggle, you once again felt Joe's hands on your waist and he helped you do the rest of them. You let go of the bar with him then catching you and placing you on your feet.
“Thank you for that.” You told him and you received a cheeky smile in return.
“Any time.”
“By the end of the semester, my plan is to be able to bench press the same weight or more weight than you.” You playfully told him and the smile that he had before became wider.
“I'd love to see that, princess. So let's put some money on it.”
“How much? 50?” You asked not really knowing how much he was willing to put up.
“Nah, you can do better than that.”
“Okay, 500.” You said as you shrugged.
“Damn, I didn't think you would go that high, but okay. Ja'Marr also mentioned to me that since you're the oldest, what you say usually goes between the two of you.”
“He's teaching you well.”
“Hmm, we'll see if that holds up between the two of us.”
“Looks like we just have to see then, won't we Burrow?”
The next day, you found yourself yawning at five in the morning absentmindedly taking small bites of your protein bar as you began to stretch with Erin coming over to sit next to you.
You hated that you had gymnastics practice so early in the day, making all of your classes be in the afternoon or late at night. The campus itself was huge and you didn't always necessarily feel completely safe when you had to walk back to your car late at night.
“So, did you break up with Trevor yet?” She asked as she began to stretch her arms.
“Uh? Good morning to you too, Erin.”
“Good morning, now did you two break up yet?”
“No, Erin.”
She sighed before rolling her eyes and looking at you in disbelief.
“Nobody likes him! Dump his ass! And I don't like the way he treats you. Truth be told, I've never liked him.”
“But I like him!” You exclaimed and she gave you a blank stare.
“Yeah, only you and his bald headed mother. You could do so much better. Oh! Who did you meet yesterday when you went to workout with Ja’Marr? I guess you fell asleep and never read my text.”
“Joe Burrow. He plays quarterback.”
“Oohh, he's cute! I heard about him transferring here. Break up with Trevor and date him! There, problem solved.”
“ERIN!”
“What? You have addressed me by my name a lot this morning. I like my plan and I think it'll work. Besides, he's a sucky ass baseball player. My goal is to get my best friend to become a WAG and being with him is not going to get you very far. He didn't even get a scholarship here. He was a walk-on!”
“I have literally only met that man one time and yeah I've said your name a lot because how do you wake up this unhinged!?”
“So? Love at first sight is an actual thing. I wasn't there, but I know it happened. And it's been that way since we were three.”
“And he did help me with my pull ups yesterday.” You told her as you shrugged your shoulders.
“I'm going to start planning the wedding when we leave. My class doesn't start until one today.” She replied as she smiled at you.
“I…-”
“What are you two going on about over here?” Your other friend Alisha asked as she sat her bag down to the left of her.
“Y/N is getting married to Joe Burrow! We have to start planning!”
“Erin, shut up!”
“Oh, but he's cute. Do you know if he has any brothers?” Alisha replied as she sat down on the other side of you.
“I.. don't but I will find out for you.”
“And slip them my number while we're at it.”
“He helped her during their workout yesterday. At this point, we can say it was their first date.”
“Erin telling everyone's business as usual.”
“Hey! I'm just good at storytelling! And he had the perfect view of your ass if he helped you with your pull ups now that I think about it.”
“Sometimes I honestly cannot believe you're my best friend.” You said as you couldn't contain your laughter anymore.
“And you aren't getting rid of me any time soon.”
Gymnastics practice was always long and draining so you knew what to expect every time. They typically lasted for three hours and when you were finished, you either got breakfast on campus or went back to your apartment to make something as Ja'Marr would also be blowing up your phone to feed him even though he was on an entire meal plan just like you were.
After taking a shower and throwing on some leggings along with an LSU sweatshirt and your converses, you started to walk out the building with Erin since Alisha had to hurry up to get to her class on time, when you spotted Joe.
Of course, Erin noticed too and squealed.
“Ooh, there goes your man!”
“Erin, be quiet! I don't want him to hear you! You are too loud for it to be eight in the morning!”
“Why not? And I'm always loud. I'm responsible for this love connection and I'm going to be the maid of honor. He NEEDS to know me.”
Joe had turned around and once he spotted you began making his way over.
“Oh shit, here comes your husband!”
“I hate you. I hate you so much right now.”
“You'll get over it.” Erin said as she smiled.
“Morning princess. Just got out of practice?” He asked as he came up to both of you.
“Morning and yes. Now I'm going to stuff my face. Oh Joe, this is my best friend Erin.”
“Hey Erin, pleasure to meet you.”
“You too and the pleasure is all mine.” She said and you couldn't help but laugh quietly to yourself.
“I was actually going to get food if the two of you wanted to come with me.”
“Y/N will go! I have class but she is free ALL MORNING. So I'm going to go and Y/N, I'll text you later. Have fun you two.” Erin practically yelled and you looked at her as if she was crazy.
“And then there were two. Where did you want to go to eat?” Joe asked as Erin had started to walk away.
“You're from Ohio, so you need to get a taste of some good southern cooking that makes you feel like you have just gained ten pounds.”
“Lead the way.”
“We're going on a little adventure off campus, my car is just over there. I think you'll like it.”
Less than a mile from campus was Louie's Cafe that had amazing breakfast as well as brunch foods. Anything that you could possibly think of they served.
On the ride over, the two of you just made small talk and when both of you had placed your orders for your food, you wanted to see how he was feeling for his first game that he would be playing in on Sunday because you already knew Ja'Marr was a nervous wreck.
“How are we feeling about Sunday? You nervous?” You asked as you took a small sip of orange juice.
“A little bit and I can admit it. I mean I played when I was in Ohio, but I was the backup. Now I'm actually starting. A lot of pressure on my shoulders and I feel like I have something to prove. I want them to be able to see that they made the right choice.” Joe told you and you were clinging to every word.
“But that's so exciting! What made you transfer here though out of all places?”
“I didn't want to be sitting on a bench for four years. I wanted to be able to play. I know that I'm good, but I just need a chance to show it.”
“Hmm, I do love a man with confidence. Well I'm very excited for you and my brother. I hate how you guys aren't playing here, but I'll make sure I'm watching.”
“Always confident, never cocky. And I'll try to get my first win as a starting quarterback for you.” He responded as he gave you a small smile.
“I can't wait to see it happen so once you get back here, we can celebrate. I can cook, so I can make you something.”
“I've been craving something my mom makes all the time, Snickers Salad.” Joe replied and you looked at him confused.
“Um? Is that an Ohio thing? Because I have no idea what that is.”
Joe nodded as he laughed and your waiter had set your plates down on the table in front of you.
“It is, but I can always text you the ingredients you need to make it. I figured you could do it justice since Ja'Marr never stops talking about how well you cook.”
“You need my number to be able to do that.” You Cheekily said, but he fired right back.
“Mine is in yours, already. I put mine in when we first got here since I want to be able to see more of these special spots you know about.” Joe confidently told you as he was pouring syrup on his banana pecan pancakes that had been recommended by you.
“I've literally only known you now for about 36 hours and I can say that I like being around you.”
“Good, because I like being around you too.”
Just then your phone rang and of course it was no one other than Ja'Marr.
“Pebbles! Are you at Louie's Cafe!?!? And you didn't take me!? I checked your location! I'm hungry too!”
“I took Joe instead because he doesn't get on my nerves like you do.” You told him as you stabbed your eggs.
“WAIT, you took Joe!?!?”
“Yes, say hi. You're on speaker.”
“Hey Ja'Marr.” Joe said as he was trying not to laugh.
“Joe, just make sure my sister gets me something to go. I'm about to starve messing with her ass.”
“I got you.”
“Bye, baby brother.”
“Wait! I didn't give you my order!”
“Text it to me, bye.”
Once you hung up and placed your phone back on the table, you looked back up at Joe to see him staring at you.
“When do you have class?”
“Not until one.”
“You want to do some more exploring with me? I feel that it's now my obligation as your unofficial tour guide.”
“I get to be around a pretty girl so I'm all for it.”
“Joe, you do know that I have a boyfriend right?” You asked as your face heated up.
“Someone as pretty as you, I'm not surprised. But what does that have to do with me?” He asked as he winked at you.
This is the first time in your life that you were speechless.
166 notes · View notes
neverthebabysitter · 2 days ago
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Steve and Eddie being chaotic childhood friends, gaslighting everyone they know.
It started when one of their teachers wanted the students to make pairs with someone they didn't know or get along with; therefore friends couldn't make the project toguether.
Of course Eddie wouldn't pass the oportunity to be dramatic and annoy a little bit the teacher, acting like it was the worst thing to ever happened to him and throwing himself on Steve's desk, making the other roll his eyes in a fond way.
It was the beginning of the year but in small towns most of the kids knew each other since before so it wasn't that weird of a request; but the teacher was also new so they didn't know the relationships of the kids very well.
That's why when small kid with a rebel vibe, starting to grow his hair and going to a more dark look, annoys them and says it would be a nightmare to do the project with preppy kid, clearly rich boy vibes and in his way to be popular, they knew who they were putting the kid with.
The teacher smirked thinking they did good, meanwhile Steve and Eddie trying not to grin and communicating with their eyes to not messed up and go along with it.
They ended up having to act like they hate each other in front of the teacher so they could carry on with the project, but what about the rest of the class who knew they were friends?
They follow along.
Maybe it's to gain Steve's favor, maybe they thought it was funny or maybe they thought it was about damn time they stopped being friends, that it was a good way to finally separate them and make Steve fully part of the jocks and Eddie less intimidating for the rest of the outcast.
Anyways, the whole class goes along with it and Steve and Eddie, like the dorks and drama queens they are, decided it's a funny bit to keep.
At some point they were too deep into it, having to act for the rest of the year like that because of the project and somehow convincing the whole school. Their friends to enemies story becoming popular knowledge.
Steve and Eddie now just think it's too funny to stop so they continue to gaslight everyone.
Eddie? Steve? No thanks, I hate that guy.
I just love a clueless Eddie trying to figure it out what's happening to his (finally) boyfriend at the same time the Party is clueless about the relationship between their dungeon Master and their babysitter.
Anyways, they going to high school and the whole mess with the upside down happens. In that moment Steve is so happy to being able to keep Eddie away from it.
164 notes · View notes
meelusinee · 3 days ago
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AN OPERA HOUSE ☆ T.N X READER
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in which you’re Theo's girlfriend and went to visit him on tour.
pairing: singer!theodore nott x singer!reader
tags: band!au, mostly fluff
word count: 2.6k
warnings: none, just fluff! (and mattheo getting water bottles thrown his way)
author’s note: my first post! for starters, i made a small playlist for this fic if you’d like to check it out. theodore, who i imagine as a cigarettes after sex singer. secondly, while english is my first (and only) language, that does not mean i claim it in any way shape or form (aka this will probably suck ass)
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AN OPERA HOUSE | T.N x SINGER!READER
God, he hated interviews.
The lights that were blaring in Theodore’s face, along with the sound of people walking around both in front and behind the set, were really starting to piss him off. Theo didn’t know how Enzo and Mattheo did it, both of them smiling bright as if they were having a nice fuck or smoking a rather heavy cigarette.
Theodore really could use a cigarette right now. Either that, or you.
Thoughts of nicotine and you had been running rampant in his mind ever since he had to leave you for his national tour, the tour that celebrated the release of the band’s newest album Cigarettes After Sex. A debut of sorts, Theodore wasn’t really sure what to call it. If he were to name it anything, he’d want to name it his love letter to you. But Mattheo had said he couldn’t do that, so he stuck with the band name.
“Today is a rather special day for you, isn’t it?”
Theodore’s mind zoned back in as Blaise gently nudged his leg, his posture straightening up as the interviewer finally started asking questions. Perhaps they needed time to make the lights even brighter, Theo thought, his hand moving to cover the frown growing on his face. 
“Very special indeed,” Mattheo said, his signature smirk that got a lot of people involved with the band plastered on his face. “We just released an album, did you hear?”
“Yes, I did!” the interviewer said, smiling brightly as she adjusted the notes in her hand. “I was hoping we could ask you some questions about it, the musical process and making it mostly.”
Theo hummed non-committedly as the rest of them nodded their heads. Questions about music production didn’t sound too bad compared to a media interrogation.
“Do you mind if we did an introduction?” the lady asked, her fingers patting the cards.
“Course not love,” Blaise said, waving his hand casually as he sat up straighter. Theodore rolled his eyes, looking down at the ground. Blaise was always the biggest player out of the four of them. And that said a lot, seeing as though Mattheo Riddle was in the band as well. 
Theodore watched as the cameras focused in on each of them, the interviewer putting her cards down momentarily to introduce them to the show. “Today is a very special day for all of us, I can imagine.” she said, smiling as she made some sort of dramatic hand gesture towards them. “Today, I’m here with the members of Cigarettes after Sex. We’re going to ask questions about their newest album.”
“I’m so excited.” Lorenzo squeaked, straightening up as he and Mattheo made funny faces to the camera.
“I wanted to start with the first question I had, which was how working on the album went.” she started almost instantly, sitting up a bit straighter. Theo rather appreciated that about her. “I mean, there’s four people in your band, and a lot of timing and other issues that you’d have to work on together. Does that stuff come easier to you than to others, do you think?”
“I think we work pretty well together, right?” Lorenzo asked, leaning forward to look at the other three before smirking in Theo’s direction. “Other than Mr. Grumpy over there, he gets pissy a lot.”
“Oh definitely.” Mattheo said, smirking as he ruffled Theo’s hair. “But it’s okay, because he writes us songs and mothers us whenever we drink. We love him very dearly.”
“It’s not my fault you decide to get concerningly drunk almost every time we hit a bar.” Theo grumbled, sitting up a bit straighter as he prepared to answer the question seriously. “We work as a team a lot of the time, especially when it comes to music. The only non-negotiable is the lyrics, which I write by myself. Other than that though, it’s free reign.”
“So things like instruments and rhythm are all decided by everyone in the band collectively?” the interviewer asked.
“Pretty much,” Blaise explained. “Usually Mattheo and Enzo make a starting beat for songs, and Theo and I usually build guitar chords off of that. Theo here has most of the control with singing though, rhythm and stuff.”
“That’s really cool.” the interviewer nodded. “I wish my family had that amount of coordination during the holidays.”
The four of them chuckled at varying degrees, with Mattheo winking at the interviewer after. “Maybe if we came over we could give you some pointers.”
“That sounds really lovely, actually.” she said, the comment obviously getting to her. Her cheeks became visibly more flushed, fingers tapping faster against her notes. “I wanted to ask you guys a little bit about the lyrics though, if you don’t mind.”
And here we go.
“That’s all Theo’s field.” Lorenzo said, all three of their fingers dramatically pointing at the top of Theo’s head. He really felt like walking out for a smoke, and maybe burning them all with the ashes out of spite for their existence. But he wasn’t going to let them know that.
“Now, I’m sure you can guess where this is headed,” she chuckled softly, flipping one of her flashcards over. “I was wondering what the inspiration for your songs was. Do you have a muse or anything of the sort?”
Theodore sighed, feeling the moment almost pause in time as he tried to think of an answer. He very much did have a muse, you were waiting at home in his bed. Even still, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that public. Especially since the both of you were rather quiet creatures.
He supposed it couldn’t hurt too much though.
“I do,” he whispered, clearing his throat after he spoke. He didn't realize how choked he would sound speaking. “Yeah, she’s really pretty.”
“Theo’s got a girlfriend!” Mattheo teased, poking Theo’s cheek teasingly. “He’s got a girlfriend who he loves very much. That woman has stolen his heart from me!”
“For shame of her, the audacity even.” Blaise chuckled amusedly, both Mattheo and Enzo playing a heartbroken bit. Theo smirked softly as Mattheo dramatically rested his head on Lorenzo’s shoulder, fake sobs escaping his mouth as they mourned over the loss of a non-existent relationship. 
“You’ll be fine.” Theo said, gently patting Mattheo’s back.
“I’ll never recover from this.” he sniffled, sitting up a bit straighter. “Mark my words.”
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It was a midsummer night, the sweltering heat doing nothing to deter the line of fangirls waiting at the entrance gates. The muggy and dense air seemed to surround everyone with a humid blanket, every bit of contact made as they tried to get through the doors like a match on gasoline. The concerts you went to weren’t usually this crowded and suffocating. 
Then again, you usually never went to such well known-bands.
Luckily for you, you had been able to sneak a VIP seat ticket for the higher tip-tops of the opera house, a fitting venue for the band that was playing tonight. Cigarettes After Sex was flashing on the monitor they had set up near the back of the stage, the camera zoomed in to focus on the currently empty microphone stand. 
Voices filled the area as everyone began to take their seats, some people pushing and shoving as they made their way around with water and sneaked in alcohol. Some of them had on merch for the band, some of them didn’t. Most of them wore darker clothes though, lots of black with leather jackets and heavy boots.
Your eyes zoned in on the screen as the lights began to dim, the voices all hushing as four men walked out onto the stage. Lorenzo Berkshire was the drummer, one of the most well-known band drummers that you could name off the top of your head. Mattheo Riddle was already stationed by the keyboards, his unruly curls already a little damp from the humidity inside the room. Blaise Zabini walked out with his bass guitar in hand, a role you knew he took on just so he could look hot while strumming the strings. Then came out Theodore Nott. 
Your boyfriend.
You could tell that the heat was affecting him the least out of all of the band members, his waterline covered in the tiniest bit of eyeliner. You smiled softly as you recalled the memory of putting eyeliner on him when you two first started dating, the giggling fit the both of you had broken out into as the other three begged you to do their eyeliner as well. 
He looked beautiful in the lighting too, his outfit framing his figure in an almost holy light. You were almost tempted to start writing a song about it right then and there. But now wasn’t your time, now was the time of the band.
You supposed the band thought the same thing as well, Blaise’s fingers beginning the strum the opening of their most popular song. Theo made his way up to the microphone stand, smiling softly at the crowd as he began to sing. His voice was just as angelic as his face, echoing through the opera house like the ghost of a long forgotten lover. He had completely captivated the room, the silence barely just quieter than the sound of his voice. 
“Your lips, my lips,” you smiled softly as he sang the lyrics, leaning your head on your hand. “Apocalypse.”
You remember the time when he wrote that song. Your tongue was barely darted out as you tried to focus on not messing up the edges of a painting you had been working on, the brush trembling with your hands focused. It was a galaxy, the blues and purples blending together in a  jaw-dropping beauty of a display. Mattheo had come into the room as you finished, a low whistle escaping his mouth as he glanced over at it.
“Looks like an apocalypse.”
Apparently, those words had rung through Theo’s mind for the week after that. He eventually sat you down on the bed, pulling out his guitar as he began to sing the lyrics to you. They needed a bit of polishing with the rhythm, his fingers plucking the wrong strings at times as he sang. But it was one of the most beautiful pieces you had heard regardless, tears welling in your eyes as you moved to hug him. That hug also ran through Theo’s mind for yet another week, in which he had apparently produced an entire studio album based on you. 
You smiled softly as the end of the song came about, the final string echoing through the silent theatre. Theo had gone to grab a bottle of water by the speaker, his eyes locking onto yours.
You winked playfully, smiling at the blush that covered his features. You also just remembered that he had not expected you at the tour. 
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“You need to come get your lover boy,” were the words that rang through your phone speaker as you tried to press it against your ear.
“What?” you asked again, pen in your hand as you spoke.
“I said,” Mattheo’s voice rang through the speaker. “You need to come get your lover boy. He is really depressed right now, like, really. He’s missing you terribly and is currently refusing to work because of it.”
You heard him and Blaise beginning to argue in the background, the both of them knowing that Theo would eventually get up. But Mattheo seemed to think that you being there would solve every single one of his problems.
“I don’t know if I can go, Mattheo,” you mumbled, placing your notebook down. “I doubt I could get a spontaneous ticket.”
“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “I already sent a driver to pick you up, he’ll be there in about 10 minutes. I’m just calling to let you know.”
“You what?” you said, looking at the phone incredulously. “Mattheo, I don’t have any time to pack! What would I wear?”
“You say that as if Theo won’t buy you a whole wardrobe based on you liking a single piece of jewelry!” Mattheo said back, groaning as Blaise called for him. “I gotta go, make sure you get in that car and come over. He’s really, really missing you.”
“Mattheo, I swear to Merlin.” you began, but didn’t have any time to finish as you heard the beeping at the end of the line. 
(divider)
“Is that amore mio?” Theo asked Blaise incredulously, looking over at the other three before catching Mattheo’s smirk. “Oh, you bastard.”
“You were missing her!” he said, running away from the keyboard so Theo could throw water at him. “It's not my fault you got depressed!”
“She is meant to be resting, testa di cazzo!” Theo said, sighing as he put the bottle down. No doubt that would be clipped in magazine headers across the country. Theo looked over at you, a soft smile coming on his face when you came into vision. You still had that smile on your face, if not brighter now that you were giggling. He smiled back, picking up his microphone again.
“For our next song,” he spoke into the microphone, placing it back on the stand. “I think it’d be rather nice to sing something about the building we’re in as well. Something about the opera house.” he said, smirking softly as the crowd of fans began cheering. The lights dimmed again as the music began playing, his eyes closing as he let it run through his soul.
“Built an opera house for you in the deepest jungle,” he began, the music coursing through his veins. The words flowed out of him like a waterfall, his voice sweet as candy as he began walking back and forth at the front of the stage. Though every time the chorus hit he found himself in the middle, eyes focused on yours as he sang the lyrics. 
“I was meant to love you, and always keep you in my life. I was meant to love you, I knew I loved you at first sight.”
The lights cut off completely as the equipment turned off, a smile growing on Theo’s face as the end of the concert came. 
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“Theo!” you squeaked as you saw him, waddling up to him like a happy penguin as you embraced him in a hug. You hadn’t seen him in over two weeks, the longest either of you had ever spent apart. “I never want to abandon you ever again.”
“If anyone was doing the abandoning, it was me.” he chuckled, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed your forehead lovingly. “I missed you so much principessa,” 
“I missed you too,” you mumbled, burying your face in his chest. “Teddy.”
“Are you calling me a teddy bear?” he chuckled softly, pulling away from the hug to cup your face lovingly. His eyes were filled with devotion you only thought possible in dreams and fairytales, that was until you eventually met him at least. 
“Yes I am.” you smiled softly.
“You are ridiculous.” he chuckled softly, pressing his lips against yours as he caressed your cheeks lovingly. “Merlin, I love you.”
“I love you too.” she whispered lovingly. 
The two of you stood comfortably in the silence, wrapped in a hug neither wanted to leave. That was until Mattheo popped in.
“Told you that you missed her!”
His face had rather quickly met two empty water bottles. 
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
thank you so much for reading! i got kind of lazy during the end of this, i'm not going to lie to you (it's three am), but! if you want more of these two lovely beauties i might maybe make a part two! (i originally drafted this with reader as a singer in mind, so if you'd like to be singing some adrianne lenker songs to theo just let me know)
please like and comment and all that jazz, i practically live off of validation at this point.
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satellite-evans · 1 day ago
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sea view
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Pairing: Harry Styles x wife!reader
Summary: Harry and his pregnant wife spending a day at the beach <3
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: fluff
A/N:
English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3
Happy reading xxx
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.
The golden sun hung lazily on the horizon, stretching its warm fingers across the beach. Each wave that lapped at the shore seemed to echo the steady rhythm of your heart, entwined with his. Harry’s hand slid down to yours, lacing your fingers together as you walked along the edge of the tide, the cool water occasionally licking at your toes. His thumb traced idle patterns against your skin, the gesture almost absentminded but deeply affectionate. The closeness of him made your chest feel full, as if the love you shared could hardly be contained in such a quiet moment.
Harry stopped suddenly, letting out a content sigh and stretching his arms out wide as if to embrace the entire ocean. “Do you ever stop to think about how mad all this is?” he asked, his voice tinged with wonder. He looked back at you, his eyes softening as they landed on your growing bump. “Me, you, this little bean in here.”
His free hand grazed your belly, his fingertips trailing delicately over the fabric of your sundress. The tenderness of the gesture sent a wave of warmth through you, a shiver of excitement and love.
“Mad is one way to describe it,” you replied, a smile curling on your lips. “Miraculous is another.”
“Miraculous,” Harry repeated, the word rolling off his tongue as if savoring it. He stopped walking entirely, tugging your hand gently to pull you closer. The sight of him then—bathed in the amber glow of the setting sun, his features soft with awe—took your breath away.
“I don’t think there’s a single word that could do justice to this,” he said, his voice quieter now. His hand splayed fully over your belly, his fingers flexing slightly as if memorizing the curve of your form. “Or to you.”
You felt your cheeks flush under his gaze, and you ducked your head instinctively, embarrassed by the intensity of his admiration. Harry wasn’t having it, though. His fingers tilted your chin up with a gentle insistence, and his smile—equal parts cheeky and adoring—melted your heart.
“Don’t you dare look away,” he teased, his voice low and playful. “I want to see that glow.”
“Harry, you’re ridiculous,” you mumbled, though you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.
“Ridiculously in love with my wife,” he corrected, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against yours. “And ridiculously lucky that she agreed to carry my baby, even if I did forget to take the bins out last night.”
“Oh, don’t think I’ve forgotten that,” you quipped, poking him lightly in the chest. “But maybe I’ll forgive you… if you’re good.”
“Define ‘good,’” he murmured, his voice dropping into that lower, teasing tone that always turned your knees to jelly.
Before you could answer, he kissed you. It was slow and deep, like the tide itself had paused just to give you this moment. His lips moved against yours with a kind of reverence that made your heart race, and when he finally pulled back, you were breathless, leaning into him for support.
“Good enough?” he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips.
You laughed, pushing lightly at his chest. “Barely. But you’re getting there.”
By the time you reached the blanket he’d set up on the sand, Harry had already shrugged off his shoes and set down the picnic basket he’d carried. The blanket was oversized and ridiculously plush, covered in cushions that looked far too fancy for a beach day. You arched a brow at him as you lowered yourself carefully onto it.
“This is very… elaborate,” you teased, smoothing a hand over the soft fabric.
“Only the best for my girl,” Harry said, dropping to his knees beside you and immediately pulling a container of strawberries from the basket.
“For the lady,” he said with a theatrical flourish, holding one up to your lips. The grin on his face was pure mischief, but it softened when you took the strawberry, your teeth sinking into the juicy fruit. He watched you like you were performing magic, his gaze warm and unblinking.
“You’re spoiling me,” you said, leaning back against the cushions with a smirk.
“You deserve to be spoiled,” he replied, his voice turning serious. He shifted to lie on his side next to you, propping himself up on one elbow. His free hand found its natural place on your bump, his fingers spreading wide as though he wanted to feel every inch of the connection between you and the baby. “Can I spoil you a little more?”
“What are you up to, Styles?” you asked suspiciously, narrowing your eyes.
“I was thinking,” he said, a mischievous glint sparking in his gaze, “that the sea looks awfully inviting. Fancy a swim?”
You hesitated, glancing out at the gentle waves. “I don’t know. I feel like a beached whale these days.”
Harry let out a laugh, his eyes crinkling in that way that made your heart flutter. “Don’t even joke about that. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And I mean it. Come on, love. Let me hold you in the water. It'll feel good.”
The water was cooler than you’d expected, but not unpleasant. True to his word, Harry’s arms were around you the moment you waded in, holding you close as if you might drift away.
“See? This isn’t so bad, is it?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke. The closeness made your heart flutter, and you wrapped your arms around his neck for balance.
“No, not bad,” you admitted, leaning into him. The sensation of the water buoying your weight was freeing, and you found yourself relaxing completely against his chest.
Harry’s hands roamed gently—one resting against the curve of your lower back, the other slipping under the water to cradle your belly. His thumb rubbed soft circles, and his touch felt reverent, almost worshipful.
“You’re carrying a part of me,” he said, his voice quiet, almost as if he was talking to himself. “Our baby. How do you do it? How are you this strong?”
Your throat tightened at his words, but you managed a small laugh. “I think you’ve got a romanticized view of it. There’s a lot of complaining and ice cream involved.”
“And I’ll listen to every complaint and buy every pint of ice cream for the rest of our lives,” he vowed, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder. “You’re everything to me, you know that?”
You nodded, suddenly overcome with emotion. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.
Harry kissed you then, his lips capturing yours with a tenderness that made you feel as though the entire world had disappeared.
When you returned to the blanket, the sun was dipping below the horizon, leaving the sky painted in hues of pink and orange. Harry handed you a towel and then promptly decided it was a better idea to dry your legs himself, taking far longer than necessary and sneaking cheeky kisses every time he bent closer.
“You know what I think?” he said, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Hmm?”
“I think our baby is going to be just like you—kind, strong, stubborn as hell,” he teased, earning a light elbow to the ribs. He winced dramatically. “Oi, I’m fragile, you know!”
“You’re insufferable, you know that?” you replied, trying to sound annoyed, though your smile betrayed you.
“Insufferably handsome,” he corrected, puffing his chest out a little. “And insufferably mad about you.”
“Oh, here we go,” you groaned playfully, covering your face with your hands. “Should I prepare myself for another Shakespearean sonnet about my ‘radiant glow’?”
“Not just a glow—your divine luminescence,” he countered with a grin, rolling onto his back and pretending to gaze at the sky. “It rivals the sun, the moon, the stars—”
“Alright, enough!” you said, laughing as you reached for a pillow from the blanket and swung it at him. Harry caught it with a laugh, holding it above his head like a trophy.
“Violence against a man praising his wife!” he exclaimed, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “What will the baby think?”
“They’ll think you’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously in love,” he shot back, leaning over to kiss you despite the pillow still clutched in his hand. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you pushed him back onto the blanket. “You’re lucky I love you.”
Harry grinned, tossing the pillow aside and pulling you closer until your head rested on his chest again. “I really am,” he said quietly, the humor giving way to genuine affection in his tone. After a beat, he added, “But if the baby gets my sense of humor, you’re in trouble.”
“Oh, God,” you groaned, shaking your head. “Then I really will be outnumbered.”
Harry let out a loud laugh, the sound blending with the waves as the sky deepened into twilight. The two of you stayed there, bickering playfully and exchanging kisses until the stars began to appear, painting the start of your next chapter in a perfect blend of love and laughter.
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suiana · 12 hours ago
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thinking about a yandere who was cursed by the gods (something similar to medusa), not because he did anything wrong, but because they found him too beautiful and too tempting.
what was once a god of a man was now but... still a handsome man, just with cursed eyes. with eyes that turn anyone into stone the second he gazes upon them. everyone who he once knew were now nothing more than mere statues, having glanced upon his beautiful eyes that now bring death.
he has chosen to live in solitude, away from everyon- well, not really. it's just that the once lively place he lived in.... wasn't so lively after all. i mean, they all turned into stone 💀
anyway, he shut everyone out because #1 they were all dead and #2 he didn't want to lose another person that he loved. what better way than to just... not interact with society and become a social hermit?
enter, you.
little ol' you who accidentally wandered into his place. he was flabbergasted and terrified. shit, he didn't want to kill an innocent person! so he tried to scare you away by making weird noises and blockign off your path while simultaneously not showing his eyes.
but wow, you just kept coming closer and closer!
"stay back! i'm warning you! you'll regret it!"
he tried to cover his eyes, tears threatening to spill from them as he absolutely majestiv form trembled on the spot. man, was he really about to take the life of another innocent person who didn't deserve to get turned into stone??
then you told him you were blind and he felt the fear leave his body as fast as it came.
from then on, the two of you chatted daily, talking about your different lives and such. it helped him regain a sense of... normalcy that he thought he'd forgotten. it was nice having you around.
so much so that he actually started to develop feelings for you. feelings that were so deep and obsessive that others would've probably ran away. not you though, never you. you were the only one to stay by his side despite his unusal predicament. perhaps the gods were sorry for playing such a cruel fate on him and decided to give him a blessing?
wrong.
"sweetheart! sweetheart! it's a miracle!"
your voice snaps him out of his daze, filling him with a giddy feeling that he's come to love and crave. oh you are just so delightful! he swears he could just lock you up to coddle you in hugs and kisses for the rest of his miserable little life!
"darling? what miracle?"
he pauses, feeling his heart drop into his stomach the second you enter his room without your usual glasses on. wait... what are you-
"i've regained my sight! bless the heavens above i-"
"no! no! no! don't look!"
but it was all for naught. you had already turned to stone.
"fuck! why did this happen?! no no no.... please wake up. please, you can't leave me too!"
the beautiful man sobs, cradling you in his arms as his salty tears fall onto your now stone cold cheeks. he cries and begs, voice growing softer and softer as the sun begins to set. how could the gods be so cruel? what had he done so wrong for them to subject him to such a fate? fine! take away his friends! take away his family! but why did they have to take you too?
"please come back...."
things were only made worse because today was the day when he'd finally decided to ask you to spend the rest of your lives together.
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archiveofvirtue · 1 day ago
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doll!reader wants to take control during sex but rafe isn’t gonna submit that easily, so she has to find another way
cw ⎯⎯ nsfw, established relationship, making out, turning dom!rafe sub, forced submission (?) kinda, handcuffs, praise, overstimulation, oral (m. receiving)
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“hngh..feels so good rafey.” you hummed, your hips continuing to roll against his still clothed cock, feeling him getting harder the more seconds pass. His lips were still attached to the sensitive skin on your neck as he sucked and licked on your sweet spot.
Rafe was leaning against the headboard, his fingers digging into your hips, pulling you closer, unable to get enough of you. Just as his lips began to trail down to your collarbone you pulled back slightly, a mischievous smile on your pink and glossy lips. He gazed up at you, his ocean blue eyes filled with lust and complete adoration.
“You’re driving me crazy, doll.”
he murmured, hands still clinging to your body.
“Good.” you whispered, leaning back down to nip at his jawline, his stubble slightly rough against your soft lips. As your kisses trailed down his neck, something in you shifted. You hadn’t planned for it to unfold like this, feeling kinda strange. Usually, Rafe was the one in charge, his dominant nature pulling you into submission so effortlessly that you never questioned it. You loved the way he took control, how he made you feel small and cared for. But what if you, just once, took the lead?
You weren’t sure where it all came from, but you also weren’t scared to find out. Maybe deep down you’d always wanted to see how far you could push him, to make him yours like he did to you. As your heart began to race you realized that the idea really turned you on, the wet spot on your panties only growing bigger.
Your fingers slid up his chest, brushing over his collarbone before settling at his neck. Your grip tightened slightly, feeling a bit nervous and just adding a playful pressure to start things off. Rafe tensed beneath you almost immediately, his hands shooting up to catch your wrists.
"What the hell are you doing?" he asked, his tone sharp as his blue eyes locked on yours. You froze, and for a second you thought about chickening out, to just leave it to him, but then a new found courage came rushing through you. “Just trying something new..”
Rafe let out a frustrated sigh, loosening his hold on your wrists but keeping them steady. "Doll, that's not really my thing. You know I'm not into—"
"Please," you interrupted, your voice a mixture of pleading and determination. Your hands moved to cup his face instead, thumbs brushing over his cheeks. "Rafe, I promise l'll make you feel good.“
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he seemed to weigh your words. Rafe wasn't used to giving up control—not to anyone, and most of the time not even to you. But the way you looked at him, your big, hopeful eyes and your sweet pout, made it impossible for him to say no. You were his doll, his everything, and despite his doubts, he didn't want to disappoint you.
"Fine," he finally gave in. "But don't push it."
Your face lit up with excitement, not thinking that he’d actually agree. "You won't regret it," you promised, lips brushing against his again as your hands adjusted their grip, softer this time, testing his limits. You could feel the tension in his body as Rafe fought the instinct to pull away, his breathing uneven under your touch.
"Relax," you murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth, then his neck, your lips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm. "Let me take care of you." A playful smirk was plastered on your lips as you placed your hands on Rafe's broad chest, gently pushing him back against the pillows. "Just trust me, okay?" You whispered, your tone dripping with sweetness, though your eyes sparkled with something malicious.
Rafe let you guide him, his hands resting loosely on your bare thighs. "Why do I feel like you're up to something?" he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion, though he couldn't help but smirk back at you.
"Close your eyes," you instructed, voice soft but firm. The blonde boy raised an eyebrow, clearly hesitant. "y/n-"
"Just do it," you interrupted, leaning down to kiss him again, silencing his protests. It was a kiss that left him momentarily dazed, and when you pulled back, he complied with a small groan, letting his eyes flutter closed.
Reaching over to your nightstand you slid the drawer open carefully, trying not to give yourself away as you pulled out the fluffy pink handcuffs you’d stashed there, finally finding an opportunity to use them. The rattling and soft clicking sounds as you adjusted them immediately made Rafe's brow furrow, even with his eyes shut.
"What's that?" he asked, his voice sharp, the hint of suspicion growing stronger.
"Shh," you cooed, leaning down to kiss him again, but this time he didn't fall for the distraction. His eyes snapped open just as you had clasped one of the cuffs around his wrist and secured it to the headboard.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Rafe protested, tugging his arm instinctively, but you were quicker. You grabbed his other wrist and clicked the second cuff into place before he could stop you. His eyes widened as he pulled at the restraints, the fluffy pink cuffs holding him securely against the headboard.
"Doll, what the fuck is this? Get ‘em off."
You sat back on his hips, earning a low grunt from him while twirling the tiny key between your fingers with a smug grin. "Mmm, I don't think so," you said, voice dripping with confidence. "You're not in charge here, Rafey. I am."
Rafe's breath hitched slightly, his jaw clenching as he looked up at you. There was a flicker of something in his expression— frustration, maybe even a little fear, but also an undeniable heat in his blue eyes as he registered your words. He was done for.
“y/n, I swear to God-" he began, but you cut him off.
"Swear all you want," you giggled sadistically, leaning down until your lips were just a breath away from his ear. "You're mine now, Cameron. And you're gonna sit there and take whatever I decide to give you." Your voice was unusually low, commanding, and laced with a sultry edge that made Rafe’s body react before his brain could catch up.
He squirmed beneath you, his face flushing as he realized just how much your words affected him. "Baby, come on," he said, his tone wavering between irritation and something softer, almost vulnerable. "This isn't funny."
"Oh, I'm not laughing," you replied, grin widening as you watched him tug at the cuffs, the muscles in his arms flexing uselessly. Your pussy clenching at the sight, he was so unbelievably hot like this. You reached out, brushing your fingers along his jawline.
"Baby.." he muttered, his voice strained as he tried to muster up some semblance of control. But the way you looked at him, the power you held—it made him feel small in a way that was both frustrating and oddly thriling, feeling the buldge in his boxers grow. The way you were acting drove him crazy, thoughts running wild with all possible scenarios. It was all so new to him and seeing you in control definitely flipped a switch inside of Rafe.
You fully ignored his complaints, the outline of his erection definitely was enough for you to keep going, your fingers dipped below the waistline of his boxers, pulling them down as his erection sprang free. you held his already leaking cock in your hand, running your thumb along the tip before licking a stripe all the way to up his base. you repeated this action a few more times, then fully taking him in your mouth as far as you could go.
“fuck, baby..” rafe groaned, helplessly pulling at the handcuffs. you began to swirl your tongue around his cock, your hand wrapping around the inches that you couldn't get in your mouth. you continued to suck him off, pulling all the way off and then taking him back in. his grunts became louder, hips buckling up into you, while his tip hit the back of your throat.
Gagging and slurping sounds filled the four walls of your room, your saliva mixed with Rafe’s precum making your mouth move smoothly around him. You could tell he was close by the way he squirmed underneath you, tugging on the cuffs with all of his strength, complete trapped.
“You’re gonna cum for me pretty boy?” You chuckled up at him, hands replacing your mouth for a second as he watched you with hazy eyes, fully emerging into submission, nodding hastily. “Y-yes..fuck.”
You began jerking him off at a fast and rough pace, your hand gliding along his thick shaft with ease as you watched him twitch, quickly wrapping your lips back around his tip. Just as your tongue tasted him again you felt Rafe release, white ropes of cum pouring down your throat as you moaned, your own arousal running down the insides of your thighs.
Pulling yourself off him with a plopping sound you smirked satisfied, licking the corner of your swollen lips while Rafes chest was raising heavily up and down, trying to catch his breath. You leaned over Rafe, your fingers working quickly to unlock the fluffy pink handcuffs that had kept him restrained for far longer than he'd anticipated—or admitted he'd tolerate. The click of the cuffs releasing was followed by a deep exhale from your boyfriend as he brought his arms down, rubbing his sore wrists briefly, his lips curving into a slow, devilish smile.
"Enjoy yourself, Doll?" he asked, his tone low and teasing, but there was a dangerous edge beneath it that sent a shiver through your body.
You were unable stop grinning triumphantly as you sat back on your heels. “Maybe I did," you teased, brushing your hair out of your face. "And maybe I'll do it again."
Rafe chuckled, sitting up slightly, his movements deliberate and slow, like a predator sizing up his prey. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice silky smooth, though his eyes burned with intensity. "You did a good job, I'll give you that. Might even let you take control more often... if you're lucky."
Your confidence flared at his words, lips parting to say something smug, but before you could get a word out, Rafe’s hands shot out, grabbing your waist and flipping you effortlessly onto your back. A surprised squeal escaped your lips as he hovered over you, his body pinning yours to the mattress in one swift motion.
"Rafe!" You gasped, your cheeks flushing as you squirmed beneath him, your earlier dominance quickly turning into nervous laughter. "What are you-"
"Shh," he interrupted, pressing a finger gently to your lips before leaning in closer, his nose brushing against yours.
“You really thought that you could just tie me up and have your way with me without consequences..?”
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my first time writing for doll!reader and im already obsessed with her and rafe’s relationship 🎀
feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!
tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @starkeysprincess @drewspinkbunny @drewsarms @rafescokewhore @rafeslacy @rafesangelita @rafey-baby @nativegirltapes @maybanksbaby @httpsdrewstarkey @dolcekissy @moremaybank @cherrygirlfriend @beausling @cosmicanakin
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planetkiimchi-rbs · 1 day ago
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i wish i didn't have to go to school today so i could curl up in my room and read all your fics like a christmas fic binge :(( but !! i'm so glad that it's FINALLY HERE (i've been waiting for this since june you don't even know)
full fic analysis under cut bc i rambled again :( but i finished reading this and i just. i love it so much??? the idea was so good and it was so well executed i can't imagine a better writer to write minghao this specific way. <33
For a moment, Minghao is simply taken aback by the quiet grace of your entrance, the way the afternoon light seems to favour you.
hell-O what happened to good morning ?? y/n really came into this fic like an ethereal being
"Each flower has its own needs, but with patience, they show their beauty. Much like people, I suppose."
this sentence set the stage for such a beautiful analogy of people being like flowers... also minghao's SO insightful ugh 😩😩
You respond with that cute grin of yours𑁋it seems more relaxed now.
aww that's so cute!! love how y/n slowly gets more comfortable w hao ☹️☹️
the tip of your tongue just barely peeking out in concentration.
people who stick their tongue out the side of their mouth when they concentrate >>> it's such a lovable trait
And flowers𑁋like people𑁋don't rush.
no why is this the PERFECT fic for hao and his patient, transcending calm???? 
The shift from the warm tones of summer to the cool shades of autumn had arrived, bringing a new, fresh palette for him to play with.
THIS LINE !!
"Not just you, no," Minghao replies amusedly. "But I think you could be. A flower, I mean. You're just someone who's figuring out what kind you want to be."
i love how he doesn't deny comparing people to flowers in general cuz somehow that is exactly what minghao is? like a guy who sometimes is a little on the sidelines simply because he enjoys perceiving other people a bit too much
The question rests upon Minghao's shoulders
NOO THIS SENTENCE 😭😭 absolute poetry how do people even come up with these ??
I've been liking the liánhuā lately𑁋the lotus. It grows in muddy water and blooms above the surface, even despite those circumstances. It also represents purity, resilience, and growth."
this is an amazing choice honestly the lotus is soo beautiful & strong (also i like the way lotus roots taste) and it's so minghao!!!
Then he just simply shrugs. "I guess I didn't mind it," he replies lowly, and meets your eyes warily. "Does it bother you?"
if someone said this to me i'd be folding on the spot bro like just confess already??
"I don't mind either," I like being in this place... with you. "Not at all."
rania and her lovely writing style of putting unsaid words in italics in between 🤩🤩 i love how distinctive it makes your writing 
Minghao has picked flowers for funerals before. He's also seen people hold onto flowers that are long past their bloom, clinging to them as if their presence alone could bring someone back. He's been there too.
oh GOSH the sorrow? so beautifully portrayed
The question feels a bit silly to ask, and it makes Minghao's features soften as he looks at you, a warmth in his chest that spreads like the first rays of sunlight breaking through a cold morning. "I've already been waiting for you," he says, almost cheekily, and it seems to lighten the moment a little. "I haven't planned on stopping anytime soon."
this fic is my other roman empire (this and moni's "finger trapped (ripped to its seams)")
His arms catch you instinctively, gentle yet steady, embracing around you like flowers petals folding inward for protection. His warmth seeps into you as if he were the sun reaching a flower in the early hours of dawn, and his hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, encouraging you to press closer into his warmth.
this whole paragraph healed me.
Minghao wonders if flowers ever feel the same bittersweet pull when their petals fall𑁋the ache of letting go, but the quiet hope of something new taking root.
holy shit. this line touched a part of me so raw that i didn't even know existed
caught in bloom, caught on you | xu minghao
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SYNOPSIS. in which you find yourself becoming a regular𑁋or perhaps more than that𑁋at minghao's flower shop. PAIRING. florist!xu minghao x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, a pinch of angst, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers WARNINGS. hao basically falls in love at first sight HAHA, mild cursing, implied that yn lost someone close to them, a lot of yearning n pining, kissing WORD COUNT. 8.3k
notes: wheeboo is NOT in their short-ish fic era anymore and is in their long-ish fic era rn 😭 anyway,, i didnt have a title for the fic until hao posted his song on his birthday so... I hope u all enjoy?? this might be one of my faves haha
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Minghao likes these kinds of days.
Thin, irregular shapes of cotton drift lazily across the endless blue embrace of the skies. The afternoon sun carries warmth in its hands that he could feel right through the glass windows of his flower shop. It's almost as if the season of summer itself is breathing through his shop, softly encouraging his little garden to reach for the light.
Minghao runs his slender fingers through the cool edges of a hydrangea, its soft petals a deep shade of prismarine.
Ever since he was younger, his mother had told him that flowers weren't just things to be cared for. They were companions, your friends if you'd let them be, each blooming with all different kinds of personalities.
He likes how the flowers didn't ask for much; they simply needed patience and care, and in return, they gave him a sense of peace that he couldn't find anywhere else.
The sudden chime of the bell pulls him from his thoughts. He straightens up, wiping his hands on the apron tied loosely around his waist, and glances toward the door.
The figure the walks through the door is unfamiliar, yet it's easy to catch the way the sunlight highlights the edges of your silhouette, almost like a halo as you step inside the shop. For a moment, Minghao is simply taken aback by the quiet grace of your entrance, the way the afternoon light seems to favour you.
Your gaze circles around the shop, taking in the rows of flowers with a soft curiosity. There's some sort of quiet hesitation in your movements when you take a few more tentative steps inside, as if you're trying to find the right place to be in this space, just as much as you're trying to find the right flower.
Minghao finds himself clearing his throat, drawing a polite smile across his lips and catching your attention right away.
"Good afternoon," he greets calmly. "Can I help you with something today?"
You glance up at him, a slight surprise in your eyes before they soften.
"Hi, um... Yeah, I was actually looking to see if I could buy some flowers. The shop I went to before closed down, so I've been searching for a new place. It was a bit of a drive." Then you hesitate briefly, before continuing, "I'm not sure what to look for exactly, but something for a first date would be nice."
Minghao's heart stirs a bit disappointingly at that, though he quickly suppresses the feeling away. After all, it's just flowers, and you're simply here to buy them for someone else.
He nods thoughtfully, giving a soft, understanding look.
"Ah, well. Congratulations first of all on the date," he says calmly, though the nerves itches his fingers. "A first date is always special, isn't it?"
"They are," You reply sheepishly, and the hint of a blush to your cheeks nearly resembles the colour of the roses displayed near the window.
"Is there a specific kind of vibe you're going for?" Minghao asks. "I can help you pick something that feels right."
You pause for a moment, eyes lingering on a beautifully-painted vase. "Hmm, I think... something romantic, but not too traditional, if that makes sense? Not something too cliché, you know, but I also want it to feel special."
Minghao simply hums in response, his mind sifting through the variety of options he could think of. There's this odd sense of responsibility within him to make your choice is beyond perfect.
"Roses are always a classic," he begins. "but they're quite conventional, so..."
He can sense you following closely to him as he walks toward another part of the shop.
"These are tulips," Minghao explains, gesturing to a row of soft, voluminous blooms in shades of pale pink and coral. "They're not commonly picked like roses, but there's a nice charm about it. They're meant to represent long-lasting love."
You take a good look of the flowers, and you're amazed by how bright they appear.
"Wow, they're so beautiful." Then you take a small glance up at Minghao, before back down at the flowers. "You must really take care of these flowers to make them look this vibrant."
"I try my best," he mutters quietly, watching as you continue to take in their beauty. "Each flower has its own needs, but with patience, they show their beauty. Much like people, I suppose."
Your eyes flicker back up at him, and for a moment, there's a quiet stillness between you, as if the space between you two is holding its breath. Then you let out a warm, somewhat nervous chuckle.
"I think I understand," You say, taking a step closer towards the tulips  and carefully running a finger over its petals. "It's about giving them space to grow, right? Not forcing them to be something they're not."
There's something about the way you speak, something thoughtful, almost as if you also understand the language of patience he's grown so accustomed to.
"Exactly." He smiles faintly. "That's what I like about flowers𑁋they don't rush. They just exist, and somehow, they slowly become what they're meant to be."
You lift your gaze to meet his, and in your eyes, Minghao sees something more than just curiosity. There's a softness there, a sincerity that draws him in. At his sides, he feels his fingers twitch slightly, but he quickly smooths his hands down his apron.
It's strange how a simple conversation about flowers can make him feel so... connected to someone.
"I think these are perfect," You tell him, eyes brightening with confidence.
A wave of satisfaction washes over Minghao, who nods in agreement.
"Would you like me to wrap them up for you?" he asks.
"That would be great, thank you," You respond with that cute grin of yours𑁋it seems more relaxed now. The thought makes his heart flutter.
Minghao begins to wrap the delicate stems with some brown wrapping paper, carefully arranging them so they're secure. As he ties a ribbon around the bouquet, he can't help but sneak up a glance at you. You're wandering around the shop with your hands clasped in front of you, looking at the other arrangements on display, and he smiles to himself.
He finishes the bouquet and smooths out any remaining creases with his fingertips. When you make your way back over to him, he offers it to you.
"Do you want to write your name on a gift tag?" Minghao asks, holding up a small card and a pen. He doesn’t know why his heart's beating faster𑁋perhaps it's the subtle hopefulness in his voice that will make your name linger longer, even after you leave.
You glance at the pen in his hand, considering it for a moment before nodding.
"Sure, I'd love to," You tell him with a faint smile, snatching the pen from his grasp, giving it a quick click before writing something down, the tip of your tongue just barely peeking out in concentration.
When you finish, you hand the card back to him. He takes it from you carefully, inspecting your neat, intricate handwriting. It's simple, yet there's a certain elegance to it it. Minghao reads it under his breath: For someone special, who I hope feels the same - Y/N.
Y/N, he repeats in his mind.
"I'll finish it up for you now," he says, placing the card with the bouquet. He arranges the flowers once more, making sure everything is perfect before handing it to you.
You find yourself fishing into your bag for your wallet. "How much do I owe you?"
Minghao hesitates for a moment, his fingers hovering over the register, but there's something about the way your features soften and how your eyes meet his that makes him pause.
"It's on the house."
You stop your hands, peering back up at him with a surprised look. "Really? Are you sure?"
"Of course," he assures calmly. "It's the least I can do."
You just blink at him a few times, a soft chuckle escaping your lips.
"Thank you," You let out sheepishly as you take the bouquet in your hands, the ribbon slipping through your fingers as you carefully adjust it. There's a split second that passes where you sneak a glance at the nametag on his chest. "I really appreciate it. I'm sure they'll love them."
Something in his chest tightens at that𑁋they'll love them. Minghao tries not to overthink it, tries to ignore the brief twinge of something unsettling in his chest.
But you're smiling, so he smiles back.
"I hope so," he replies gently, and with a polite bow of his head, he adds, "I'm sure they'll appreciate the thought behind it."
As you walk towards the exit, you take a final look around the shop, eyes lingering on the shelves of flowers, before turning back to Minghao.
"I'll be sure to come back," You say brightly, and the way the afternoon sunlight pours down all around you in the doorway makes you appear almost angelic. "Thank you for everything."
"I'll be here," Minghao responds, offering a small, timid wave of his hand. "Take care."
The chime of the bell above the door announces your departure, and a sigh leaves him.
It's just flowers, he tells himself again. Just flowers.
And flowers𑁋like people𑁋don't rush.
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Minghao finds himself wiping away some spilled soil on the counter, the soft hum of piano music drifting throughout the quiet flower shop. He had just gotten done cleaning up after a busy morning of rearranging a few displays around the shop to tie into the slow seasonal changes that were beginning to take shape outside.
The shift from the warm tones of summer to the cool shades of autumn had arrived, bringing a new, fresh palette for him to play with. Chrysanthemums, petunias, dahlias, and marigolds were beginning to make their way into the shop, taking their place next to the peonies and roses that had been so meticulously cared for.
When the last bits of soil are wiped away, Minghao steps back to admire the beauty of the shop around him, he takes in a deep inhale, letting in the earthy scent of the fresh blooms fill his lungs.
After storing away a few extra vases in the backroom, the chime of the door hits his ears, and Minghao finds himself straightening back up to greet whoever had come inside.
When looks up, however, he freezes for a moment. He catches you standing in the doorway, and Minghao has to blink a few times to make sure his mind wasn't playing any tricks on him.
"Hi, again," You're the first to greet this time, and then that grin spreads across your face once again, one that seems all-too familiar.
Minghao leans against the counter. "Back so soon?"
"I was just in the area, couldn't help myself, you know..." You drawl with a playful shrug. "I actually just officially moved into the city just last week, hopefully to be closer for this new job and well... The drive here isn't as long as before."
Minghao smiles softly. It's an unexpected but pleasant surprise for you to admit all that to him, and for some reason, it makes him feel a little lighter.
"That's great," he responds, pushing himself off the counter as he straightens up. "I imagine that must be a relief. How do you like it so far?"
You step further into the shop, your eyes eagerly scanning the new arrangements he's set up.
"It's been great, actually," You say with a relieved look. "Life has been... good, honestly. I think the city suits me. It's different, but in a positive way, and I'm already surrounded by a lot of nice people."
This warm and genuine feeling tugs at Minghao's lips as he listens to you, adjusting the stems of a vase full of a plethora of zinnias.
"I'm assuming that date from before went well then?"
His words makes the smile on your face flicker, and the change is subtle but noticeable enough for Minghao to catch it, even when he's not directly looking at you. You shift your weight between your two feet, and the way you glance around the shop seems almost like you're trying to distract yourself from something.
"The date didn't go well at all, actually."
Minghao's fingertips pause on the cold surface of the vase, brows furrowing in a bit of surprise.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," he apologises gently, regretting for the sudden change in mood. "I didn't mean to bring up anything uncomfortable."
You let out a small, rueful chuckle, shaking your head. "No, no, it's okay. Really."
The air seems to thicken a little. You could only stand and watch for a few long moments as Minghao moves gracefully around, tending to all the flowers with his usual care.
After a long pause, you finally break the silence.
"It was good at first, I think, then it just became... awkward. Like really awkward. I thought I had everything planned out𑁋good place, nice flowers, all that jazz... but I guess it just didn't click. I think we both kind of felt it." You feel your shoulders deflate in a pit of defeat, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you run a hand through your hair. "I don't know why I just rambled all that. Sorry about that."
Minghao doesn't say anything at first, simply giving you some space, but he feels his heart tighten in his chest. He casts his eyes on you, also unsure why you're telling him this or why it feels important to him, but he knows it's a moment of vulnerability𑁋a rare one𑁋and he wants to handle it with care.
"No need to say sorry," he reaffirms, tone soothing. "Sometimes things don't go as expected, and that's okay. It doesn't mean it wasn't meaningful."
You glance towards him, catching the sincerity dripping down from his words. It catches you by surprise at how almost... comfortable it feels to be open right now, with him. The atmosphere here doesn't demand anything of you.
"As people, we try so hard to make things go right that we forget to just... let them unfold naturally," he says softly, as if thinking aloud. "I think sometimes things don't work out because we're not ready for them yet, or maybe they're not the right kind of flower at the right time. You can spend so much time trying to arrange them, placing them in the perfect spot, hoping they'll just fit… but sometimes they don't. And that's okay."
You can't help but quirk a playful lip at that, but you can't resist the way his words appear to tug right at your heartstrings. "Are you comparing me to a flower?"
"Not just you, no," Minghao replies amusedly. "But I think you could be. A flower, I mean. You're just someone who's figuring out what kind you want to be."
The thought about being a flower𑁋in another life, perhaps𑁋is a bit silly. But you also wonder about other things too𑁋if you're being treated with the same care and attention that Minghao gives to his flowers, or if you're wilting like one that hasn't found the right light yet. And as you gaze around the shop, taking in the beauty of the blooms around you, you find yourself smiling.
"I think I'd like to try and take care of a flower," You announce, determination weaving around your voice and words. "I'm not sure if I'd be good at it, but I'd like to try."
Minghao crosses his arms together, letting out a thoughtful hum while studying you for a few seconds. "I think you'd do well."
For some reason, those few words were enough to send heat crawling up your body and into your face.
"Thank you," You breathe out sheepishly, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards. "Can you give me a few recommendations?"
Minghao just nods. "Sure."
From there, he leads you toward a small display near the front of the shop where a few different pots and seedlings are carefully arranged. He describes a few of them to you. You're immediately drawn to the passion dripping from his tone, and the way he appears to light up when he speaks.
"These might be a good start," he suggests, gesturing to a small seedling. "Marigolds are pretty low maintenance. They need light, of course, but they're easy to grow and care for."
You take a moment to study over the baby plant with sweet curiosity.
"I think I'll start with these, then," You say, glancing back at Minghao. "Something easy."
Minghao's eyes don't stray away from how you admire the tiny plant, how you cradle the pot in your hands to take a closer look at it as if you're already imagining yourself taking care of it.
"Taking care of them can be a good reminder to take care of yourself too," he points out. "They need patience, consistency… and a little bit of trust, just like people do."
You look up at him, a smile tugging at your lips once more, feeling something warm bloom in your chest. His words settle into you in a way that's hard to describe, but they feel right𑁋like they're exactly what you need to hear.
"That's true," You reply, the weight of the sentiment settling comfortably within you. "I guess I could use a reminder like that."
"Shall I wrap it up for you?" he offers.
"Yes, please. Thank you."
After mulling over some options, he chooses the perfect wrapping paper and adds a small note about caring for marigolds. You watch him, mesmerised by the ease in his movements, the care he pours into something so simple. For a moment, you forget about all the bustling noise outside the shop, and all that exists is Minghao and the flowers, his flowers.
As Minghao ties the final knot around the marigold pot, he hands it to you, and his fingertips briefly brush against yours.
"Thank you," You tell him softly. "For everything, really. It's very calming in here."
Minghao's smile widens, almost like he's heard those same words before, and perhaps he has; maybe many people find themselves drawn to his calm presence and the haven he's created in this little shop.
There's a strange warmth that spreads throughout your chest as you cradle the small plant in your hands. "I'll be sure to take good care of it."
A few moments of comfortable silence pass as you both stand there, your eyes drifting around the shop to take in the palette of autumn that colours the space. Yet it's almost instinctive in the way your gaze finds Minghao.
"I hope you won't mind me coming back, you know... to make sure I'm doing a good job with this little one." You gesture to the plant in your hands, a playful tone to your words.
Minghao chuckles, a sound as gentle as the petals surrounding him. "Of course. I'll be here."
"Do you mind if I take another look around with the place? It looks great, by the way."
"Take all the time you need."
And for the first time in a long while, Minghao felt like he wasn't just waiting for the next flower to bloom.
He was blooming, too.
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"Do you have a favourite flower?"
The question rests upon Minghao's shoulders while he waters a cluster of orchids in the back corner of the shop. You're hovering near him, aimlessly trudging your fingertips over, but instead lets the question settle in between the quiet moments.
"I imagine it's hard to pick as a florist, right?" You let out a meek laugh. "It's kind of like asking a painter to pick their favourite colour."
The corners of Minghao's lips curl up slightly, his eyes fixed on the glistening leaves under the faint droplets of water. You can tell he's contemplating the question from the quiet hums leaving his mouth, and for some reason, you find comfort in his patience.
"Not exactly," he says after a pause, his voice steady, thoughtful. "A painter might have a favourite colour, but they don't use it all the time. It's about balance. Knowing when to bring it forward and when to hold it back."
"Ah, so you do have a favourite flower," You tease lightly, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. "You just don't want to admit it."
The brief touch seems to linger in the air, a soft warmth that you both let pass without acknowledging. Minghao gently sets the watering can down and looks at you for a moment, his gaze a little deeper than before.
"In China, we have a lot of flowers that hold meaning," Minghao continues. "It's hard to pick one specifically, but... I've been liking the liánhuā lately𑁋the lotus. It grows in muddy water and blooms above the surface, even despite those circumstances. It also represents purity, resilience, and growth."
You tilt your head as you take in his words. You already knew yourself that you didn't know much about flowers, but there's a certain curiosity that washes over you from how Minghao speaks so fondly about them. Even something as simple as a flower has layers of meaning for him.
"That's really beautiful, I..." You trail off, trying to find the right words. "I've always looked at things really surface-level, you know, like I've always found daisies beautiful because they're so simple and bright, but I never really thought much about their deeper meanings. It's kind of like... I never thought about why I liked them. It's just easy to see them and appreciate them, I guess."
Minghao blinks at you, before lowering his gaze down to the floor. "Daisies suit you."
You turn to him, dazed. "Really?"
Minghao takes a contemplative pause. "Well, they're not only... beautiful to look at, but they brighten up any space they're in."
You feel your feet seep into the floor, sinking deeper as your cheeks warm, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were standing next to him. And it's the way he acts like he didn't fucking say anything out of the ordinary almost makes you lose it.
"Are you flirting with me right now?"
However, Minghao doesn't seem fazed by the question. Instead, his lips twitch into a small, almost imperceptible smile, and then a few seconds later, your phone rings.
Minghao just offers you a little wave of his soil-painted hand. "Have fun at work, Y/N."
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"Minghao! Can you teach me how to wrap these flowers?"
Minghao casts his attention up from displaying a new set of hyacinths, catching you behind the counter with a bouquet in your hands, along with a small old lady on the other side with a cheerful grin.
There's a subtle tug at the corners of his mouth when he hears you holler for him again, and he brushes his hands against his apron, before marching his way toward you. He steps up to you, taking the flowers from your hand while you beam happily towards the old lady.
"What's the occasion for the flowers, ma'am?" You ask curiously. Th elderly woman lets out a soft laugh, resting her wrinkled hands on the counter.
"It's for my grandson! He's graduating from high school today. Time flies by, doesn't it?"
"Wow, that's such a milestone! Congratulations to him," You exclaim enthusiastically, softly clapping your hands together as Minghao deftly arranges the flowers within the wrapping paper, before sliding it over to you.
He leans in a bit more, almost too close you feel the way his arm brushes against yours and the way his breath fans against your skin.
"Fold the edges like this," Minghao instructs softly, his hands hovering right over yours. "Make sure the paper covers the stems. Too much pressure could break them; too loose could make them fall apart."
You watch as his hands follow yours while you nervously, yet carefully trace the frail edge of the paper, showing you how to make each fold with a care that's almost tender. His close proximity sends strange flutters to your stomach, but you do your best to ignore it.
"Okay, like this?" You question, pulling the paper slightly tighter around the bouquet.
Minghao hums approvingly, letting you hold the flowers while he circles a ribbon around it with ease. His hands brush against yours as he neatly ties it, and the two of you pull back to watch how it delicately falls over the bouquet.
The old lady glances between the two of you with a knowing smile.
"The two of you make such a cute couple! Do you run the shop together?"
You feel your face fire up at that, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Then you instinctively glance over at Minghao, who surprisingly doesn't seem as flustered as you are.
"Oh, um, we're not𑁋"
"They like to help out here once in a while," Minghao adds in smoothly, though you aren't sure if that entirely helps or not. However you know what he's saying is true, because whenever your break for work comes or on your free time, you find yourself naturally walking towards the flower shop to help out at times.
The lady just beams up even more, scooping up the bouquet in her grasp. "Well, it's nice to see young faces working together! You two sure do have a lot of chemistry."
You offer a wave of your hand. "I hope your grandson enjoys the flowers. Congratulations to him once again!"
With that, the old woman offers a small wink before turning to head out of the shop. "Thank you, dear! Take care, both of you." Her delighted steps echo off the walls as she exits the shop.
The shop grows quiet again. You let out a sigh, cracking your knuckles as you turn to Minghao, who was already wiping over the surface of the counter, making quick work of putting things back in order, and for some reason, it still doesn't wipe away the pit of awkwardness you're feeling. You wonder if he feels the same too.
"So," Minghao starts, still continuing to clean without batting a glance at you. "You're taking over my shop, it seems."
You let out a haughty scoff. "I just wanted to try wrapping some flowers for someone. Don't let it get to your head."
Minghao only chuckles lightly, though he keeps his focus on the counter, yet you could only focus on him. You can't help but admire the way his hair falls effortlessly over his forehead, the slight endearing tilt of his head as he works, and how his movements are so meticulously unique to only him. There's a certain aura he exudes that makes you feel strangely at peace, a magic that only seems to reside within the walls of the shop.
"Why didn't you say no?" You suddenly ask, the question slipping out before you could shut your mouth.
Minghao pauses mid-swipe, looking back up at you. "Say no to what?"
"To, uh... the lady back there," You stammer, feeling the heat creep back at your neck. "About us, you know... being a couple."
Minghao remains silent as he tosses the dirty wipe away. For a moment, he seems to be contemplating something𑁋whether the question, the idea, or something more.
Then he just simply shrugs. "I guess I didn't mind it," he replies lowly, and meets your eyes warily. "Does it bother you?"
Your mind goes completely blank at his question. Does it bother you? The simple truth is that you didn't expect him to answer so casually. You were expecting him to probably correct her humbly, in all honesty. After all, it was just a passing comment from a lady who didn't mean any harm behind it.
But... does it bother you?
"No, it... it doesn't bother me. Really," You respond after a pause, voice coming out a bit forced. Your heart is beating super fast right now. "I guess I just didn't expect you to go along with it since we're not𑁋"
"𑁋not a couple," Minghao finishes for you. "I know."
You feel like you're melting into a pile of goo, your thoughts scattering like ants running out of their pile.
"I'm sorry, I'm overthinking," You mumble out, trying to brush everything off with an airy laugh.
Minghao shakes his head. "I should be sorry. I made you uncomfortable."
"You-You didn't, trust me!" You wave your hands dismissively, albeit a bit dramatic. "I was just caught off-guard and didn't know how to respond."
This seems to relax Minghao's shoulders a bit, but not entirely.
"Okay," he says, and his voice is as light as a  wisp getting caught in the wind. "But you'd tell me if you were uncomfortable, right?"
You give him an easy nod, maybe even confident. "I would. I promise. And you'd... tell me too?"
Minghao meets your eyes with a steady gaze, his expression soft but thoughtful. For a moment, there's a subtle shift in the air, and you can feel the weight of his words before he speaks again.
"Yeah," he answers firmly, sincerely. "I would."
When you open your mouth to speak again, your phone dings in your pocket. You squint your eyes to read over the message in your notifications, before closing up your phone.
"My meeting got cancelled." Then you blink up towards Minghao, as if trying to convey an unspoken question to him.
As if the answer wasn't already obvious, Minghao gives you a small, almost teasing smile.
"I don't mind the company," he tells you, then quirks up a brow. "Unless you do."
"I don't mind either," I like being in this place... with you. "Not at all."
Flowers bloom when the time is right. And you don't mind waiting for it.
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When a flower dies, there's a certain routine that comes after it. Trim away the wilted petals, dispose of the stems, recycle them as compost, and plant the next set of blooms.
Minghao hates seeing flowers die.
The sound of crumbling petals tie a knot in his chest, the stillness that follows afterwards is almost deafening. But he knows it's an inevitable part of life. Every flower has its chance to bloom and thrive, and eventually, it will fade.
The flowers don't belong to him, after all𑁋they are simply passing through his care briefly before going to someone else or withering away, like everything else in life. Minghao knows it's unnecessary to hold onto these flowers so tightly, but after being surrounded by them his entire life, it's merely impossible to let go.
The bell chimes as he's composting a few camellias that had sadly wilted, and he gazes up to find a gust of snow following your footsteps as you step inside. A large, black fluffy coat hugs your body and a scarf is wrapped snugly around your neck. However this time, Minghao doesn't notice any ounce of a smile to your face.
He sets the compost bin down and wipes his hands on his apron.
"Y/N?"
There's a very subtle twitch to your expression when he calls out your name.
"Hey," You croak out, voice a bit strained. "Um... is it fine if I buy some flowers?"
Minghao feels something in his chest clench at your tone, but he pushes the feeling away with his usual calm composure, masking away any concern simmering on the surface.
"Sure," he replies, focusing on the shadows that plague over your features. "Is there anything specific you're looking for?"
Your eyes drift away from to look around the flower shop, taking note of the bright, usual blooms that surround you, yet none of them appear are what you're looking for.
"Do you have, um..." You feel like you're already going to regret this. "...anything for a funeral?"
The words float in the air between you both. Minghao's expression falters for just a moment, the calmness that he usually carries slipping as his eyes soften toward you.
"Of course," he says softly. "I have a few options."
With that, he leads you to a particular spot in the shop, where it houses all sorts of flowers with muted colours𑁋white roses and lilies, pale chrysanthemums, and pink and purple orchids all arranged neatly. Minghao watches as you gaze over each flower, but he doesn't speak yet, simply allowing you the moment to breathe.
"These are the traditional flowers for a funeral," he explains finally. "White roses for remembrance, lilies for peace, chrysanthemums for mourning, and orchids for everlasting love."
Minghao has picked flowers for funerals before. He's also seen people hold onto flowers that are long past their bloom, clinging to them as if their presence alone could bring someone back. He's been there too.
It's bit a different when it's you though, and he doesn't exactly know how to explain it.
You plod slowly throughout the display, picking up a stem here and there, but each time, you set it back down as if it didn't feel right. But when you come across the orchids, you linger a little longer on them, tenderly caressing the petals as if you were scared to break them.
"I think I'll choose these ones. The orchids," You murmur, picking up a few stems and showing it to him.
Minghao just nods, taking the ones from your hands and grabbing a few more to finish the rest of the bouquet, moving with careful precision.
"I'll handle the rest, don't worry," he assures you as he gracefully works to arrange the orchids.
None of you choose to say anything more, only letting the diffident silence stretch. For some reason, the shop feels a little more cooler, the air heavier than usual. The only sound is the rustling of Minghao's hands moving carefully over the flowers, the quiet snap of a stem as he trims it with his shears. Outside, the snow continues to fall.
Minghao doesn't press for any details, yet even in the quiet, you have a feeling that he knows. Maybe that's why he's just letting his hands speak for him.
"Here you go." He offers you a neat bouquet of pale lavender orchids.
You step up to him to retrieve it from his grasp, bringing it close to your chest. "Thank you."
Minghao knows he shouldn't let his feelings get in the way, but as he takes note of the slight glassiness to your eyes and small tremble of your hands holding the bouquet, he isn't sure how much longer he can hold it in. He feels guilty when he lets his eyes drift down to your lips for a second, before averting it back up quickly.
The smile you give him is nothing short of fragile, faint, but it's there. And then, with a sudden leap, you find yourself leaning into Minghao's embrace without thinking, wrapping your arms around his body as if he was the only thing in the world that was preventing you from falling down. And in a way, he is.
His arms catch you instinctively, gentle yet steady, embracing around you like flowers petals folding inward for protection. His warmth seeps into you as if he were the sun reaching a flower in the early hours of dawn, and his hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, encouraging you to press closer into his warmth.
You don't cry𑁋not entirely. A single tear slips past your lashes, landing silently against his shoulder. He feels it, but he doesn't move, doesn't say anything, and just lets you... be.
"I'm sorry," You mumble into his shoulder. "I didn't mean to𑁋"
"Don't be," Minghao interrupts softly. "It's okay."
You pull away for a moment to look up at him. He's still holding you. His hands have fallen down to your sides, resting there as if he's held you like this before. The way you're looking at him has Minghao nearly forgetting how to breathe; it nearly urges to him to lean down and close the distance between the two of you.
His gaze lingers on your lips, and for a split second, Minghao almost allows himself to follow the instinct to lean in.
But then he stops himself.
He's not sure what this is, what the right thing to do is. His thoughts are tangled mess of roots𑁋he's always been careful with holding himself back, with promising to wait, yet something about the way you look at him makes it feel like the only right thing to do is to give in.
But he can't. Not yet. Not when you're so fragile and baring yourself raw to him.
Yet he sees the way your eyes flutter at him, the way a crease of question forms in between your brows as if you're also unsure of what this moment is, but there's a longing there too. It's almost pleading. And you lean in a little more towards him.
"Y/N," he breathes out your name, and it's the first time you ever heard his voice shake like that. "We... We shouldn't."
You don't say anything at first, your eyes searching his face like you're trying to read something. You open your mouth, close it, and then, with a slight exhale, you step back, only a little, but enough to let the cool air seep in between you.
"I'm sorry, I..." You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, letting out a sniffle. "Fuck, I'm sorry..."
Minghao feels his chest tighten. "It's okay𑁋"
"I-I just wanted to feel something for a moment, you know? Everything is such a mess right now and the first person I thought of was you, because I like... the way you make me feel. I like it way more than I should. And that... that it's okay if you don't feel that way too."
Minghao's heart stutters at that, and perhaps the world even pauses too. All words that want to leave him become stuck in his throat, because he knows deep down𑁋from as far back as the moment you walked into the flower shop𑁋that he's felt the same way for far too long.
So, he settles with taking one hand from your side and slowly reaching up to trace your warm cheek with his thumb, his touch delicate as if he's afraid he might cause your petals to fall down. He brushes away a lingering tear that had been drying up on your skin and lets his hand stay there.
"You... deserve way more than just comfort in a moment like this," Minghao starts quietly. "But you're grieving right now, and I don't want to take advantage of that. I don't want to just be someone who's here for a moment, because... you mean so much to me more than that."
Your lips form into a tight, thin line, and you flicker your gaze towards the floor, the heaviness in the air still weighing down on your shoulders.
"Minghao..."
"And if I act on what I feel, it wouldn't be fair to you," Minghao continues, voice trembling slightly as he speaks. "I want it to be because you know what you want. And if you ever give me that chance, I promise I'll be here for you. Not just now, not just in this moment, but... for everything. When you're ready; when you're healed; when it feels right, I'll be here𑁋I always have been."
There's a lump in your throat that you swallow down. For a while, you could only simply stand there, feeling as if you're teetering on the edge of something you can't quite reach. But even as you stand in this stillness, there's something in his words that echoes off the walls of your mind𑁋it's understanding, and it's care, and it feels like a promise.
"I... I know. I just... I'm sorry for putting all this on you. I think I need space to... heal and think." Then you look back up at him, wonder tainting your features. "Will you wait for me?"
The question feels a bit silly to ask, and it makes Minghao's features soften as he looks at you, a warmth in his chest that spreads like the first rays of sunlight breaking through a cold morning.
"I've already been waiting for you," he says, almost cheekily, and it seems to lighten the moment a little. "I haven't planned on stopping anytime soon."
The chuckle that leaves you isn't forced; in fact, it's quite relieving. It feels like the start of something, and Minghao feels a flicker of hope at the sound.
You reluctantly separate yourself away from him, cradling the bouquet of orchids to your chest, and let out an exhale you hardly realise you were holding in.
"I'll be okay, you know," You tell him, even if it's a bit of lie, or half the truth. You can't tell which.
Minghao glances down to your hands, as if you're holding a piece of your heart wrapped up within the petals, before back up to your eyes.
"I know," is all he says.
The world doesn't stop for grief, but it's okay to pause for a little while.
Minghao wonders if flowers ever feel the same bittersweet pull when their petals fall𑁋the ache of letting go, but the quiet hope of something new taking root.
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You haven't stepped foot in the flower shop in a while. At least, not as often as you used to come.
The absence is especially daunting, and Minghao can't help but feel it every time the bell chimes and it isn't you that walks through the door. On rare occasion you'd swing by to say hello during your breaks at work and sometimes, a pretty, shy smile from you before you disappear back into the world outside.
It's strange how easily your presence had come to be a part of the rhythm of his days. He used to wonder how someone like you would be drawn to the boring stillness of a flower shop. But now the place feels more emptier than before you came into his life, the petals around him somehow less vibrant, the air colder, even when the sun streams through the windows.
He tries not to dwell on it, but he can't help the nagging feeling that maybe you've drifted away, maybe things have changed. Maybe he was just a moment for you. And now, that moment has passed.
So he simply spends his days in the shop, moving between shelves of blossoms and arranging bouquets, but his thoughts always return to you. To the quiet moments when your voice would fill the space between the flowers, to the way you cared and tended the blooms even when you had no reason to.
It makes him think that if flowers could speak for us, then what might they say about you? Would they say you were someone who saw beauty in the smallest things? Minghao often found himself wishing that flowers could speak just so he can hear what they would say about you.
But flowers don't speak, of course. They just bloom and stretch toward the light, growing in places where they are tended to, and even in those that have been forgotten.
Maybe that's what Minghao was𑁋a forgotten flower of his own waiting to be seen, to be noticed.
Luckily, he was able to distract himself a bit today with a few deliveries for a couple of upcoming weddings and a new arrangement for the store he was preparing to do in the next few days, along with piles of orders for days. But it still wasn't enough.
As he flips the sign on the window to display Closed, he fumbles for his keys to lock the door. However, the sound of the bell rings through the shop, stopping him mid-motion. Minghao lifts a brow up, not expecting for anyone to show up right as he's about to close up.
And when he looks up, he freezes.
"I'm not late, aren't I?"
It's you.
The way your voice comes out all shaky like you're out of breath, yet soft has Minghao feeling as if he's sinking into quicksand. The sight of you standing at the doorway is a dream he never dares to wake up from.
"You're not," Minghao manages to say, somehow. "You're just in time."
Your lips tug into a small, relieved smile, and it's enough to make the air feel lighter in the shop. You take a few hesitant steps so that you're fully inside, letting the door shut behind you with a faint click.
Your lips tug into a small, relieved smile, and it's enough to make the air feel lighter in the shop. You take a few hesitant steps so that you're fully inside, letting the door shut behind you with a faint click. You take in the familiar, fresh scent of all the blooms and greenery around you, and it hits you in the heart just how much you've missed this place.
"I had, uh… a late shift at work," You explain unsurely. "so I thought about stopping by, but I wasn't sure if you'd still be here."
Minghao just shakes his head, watching as you brush your fingertips over some lilies and baby's breaths that were displayed on a small table near the window. Gosh, he'd do anything to flat out say how much he missed you, how much he'd been thinking about you, but he doesn't.
"Have you been busy?" You ask him.
"A little," he responds. "but manageable, I would say."
"Ah… that's good," You mumble, voice trailing off as you start to make your way in his direction, catching eye on a particular bouquet sitting on the counter behind him. "No-show again?"
Minghao lets out a sigh, and he feels you following behind as he walks towards the counter. He picks up the bouquet in his hand, letting his gaze fall over it.
"Mhm," he hums. "But it's alright, really. Happens more often than you think."
You quirk a brow as your eyes roam over the bouquet, and a particular, almost knowing look stretches across your lips.
"That's funny," You huff, taking the bouquet from his grasp. It held a colourful variety of hydrangeas. "It looks a lot like an order I placed a few days ago."
Minghao's heart skips a beat as he watches you carefully examine the bouquet, his breath caught in his throat.
"This… was yours?" he questions in surprise.
"Yeah, I…" You bite your lips sheepishly. "It was sort of an impulsive thing, I guess."
Minghao only continues to watch as you admire the bouquet, caressing over the delicate wrapping paper and the all-too familiar bow that he would tie all of his other arrangements.
"Impulsive, huh?" Minghao teases lightly, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "Well, you certainly picked a good one."
You look up at him, a small, tentative smile forming on your face. "I guess I just wanted to get something special. For someone."
Minghao feels his heart sink at that, a flutter of hope and uncertainty colliding in his chest. Someone.
He opens his mouth to say something, but the words get caught in his throat, unsure if it's his place to ask, or if he even wants to hear the answer.
"I see," he says instead, trying to keep his tone relaxed, though there's a hint of sadness to his voice that he silently hopes you don't notice.
You take note of his unreadable expression, over the way his eyes appear downcast and a subtle tension to his posture.
However, this doesn't make you stop from gripping the bouquet tighter in your grasp, and then in the next moment, you're stepping closer and offering it over to him.
"I hope you like them," You state, holding out the bouquet thing as if was the most natural thing in the world.
Minghao glances at the bouquet quizzically, the same one he had just been holding, then back at you. His face shifts between a million different expressions𑁋confusion, surprise, hope, and everything in between𑁋before the tension in his chest eases just slightly as he finally registers what you're doing.
He's a florist, for crying out loud. He's usually the one to be giving flowers to people. Never in his years of practically living in the shop has anyone offered flowers to him. The gesture is practically foreign, yet in this moment, it feels so right.
His fingers graze against yours as he hesitantly takes it from your hands, but you fully let go. Instead, you cover his hand with yours, warmth spreading between you as you gently press your palm against his. His heart is beating in his throat, in his ears, everywhere in his body, and he wonders if you can feel it too.
"I missed you," You declare softly, yet a pinch of urgency behind your words. "I missed you so fucking much."
His chest tightens, and it's as if the weight of everything crushes him in the best possible way. All the time he had spent wondering if you had forgotten about him, if maybe you had moved on, it all melts away in an instant. Because you're here. And you're saying everything he's been craving to hear.
And gosh, does he want to kiss you right now.
This time, Minghao doesn't waste a second. He brings a hand up to cradle the side of your neck as he presses his lips to yours. It's perhaps a bit desperate first, making him swallow down a faint sigh you let out but it quickly settles into something softer, deeper, like two people who've been waiting for this moment for far too long.
He can feel the slight tremble in your breath as your lips move against his, and he pulls back slightly, just to make sure you were still with him.
Minghao lets his thumb lightly caress over your cheek as if trying to memorise the feeling of your skin under his touch, as if he'd been starved for this closeness.
"I missed you too," he whispers, a breath away from your lips. "The flowers did too."
A light, airy chuckle escapes from you. "Oh, did they?"
"Of course," Minghao murmurs, his lips curling upwards against your skin. "They've been waiting for you to come back."
"Well, I better not keep them waiting anymore then, right?" You jest playfully, leaning in back once again.
Minghao doesn't hesitate to meet you halfway. "Nope," he says firmly against your mouth. "I think they've waited long enough."
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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 8 hours ago
Text
can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 21
Or: a secret Admirer AU
PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16 || PART 17 || PART 18 || PART 19 || PART 20
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Chrissy’s in Steve’s bed, sprawled out on her stomach, trying to plow through her homework when Steve says, “I need your help.”
Her heart’s in her throat as she whips her head toward him, already halfway through jumping up off the bed, ready to bury whatever body he needs burying.
But, he’s not even looking at her; he’s restlessly tearing a blank piece of paper into tiny little pieces, and his ears are a familiar, damning red. He’s not worried, he’s embarrassed.
“Jeez, you’re going to give me a heart attack,” Chrissy sighs, flopping back down onto the bed. She’s gotten far too used to all of Steve’s problems being life or death, and whatever this is, she can tell it’s not that.
“Sorry,” Steve mutters.
She just waves her hand and flips her notes and textbook closed, ready to think about something, anything else. “What is it, boy troubles?” she asks, fluttering her eyelashes flirtatiously, only to drop all pretenses when Steve ducks his head like a turtle hiding within its shell. “Already?”
“It’s not a problem, Chris, god,” he sighs, running his hand anxiously through his hair. “I just thought—nevermind, it’s stupid.”
And then he just, picks his homework back up, as if Chrissy would ever let him get away with that. “Steve Harrington,” she snaps, only feeling marginally bad when he snaps his head back up. “Nothing about you is stupid.”
He’s still turtling into himself, but he nods dutifully, so she continues. “Now, tell me what you were going to say.”
He groans, flopping down on the bed to stare up at his white ceiling, barely blinking. She follows his lead, collapsing bonelessly next to him and rolling atop all their coursework until she’s nestled into his side, both of them giggling.
He wraps his arm around her shoulder, and finally begins to speak. “I have  a date with Eddie tomorrow, right?” he says, looking down at her for confirmation. She nods, even though he’d never given her a specific date. “And I wanted you to help me, like, plan it?”
She blinks, nonplussed as the blush on his cheeks disperses across his cheeks. She rolls over, elbow planted on his chest so she can use it to prop her chin up and peer down at him. “You need help planning a date?” she asks, voice incredulous.
He groans, reaching up to hide his face from her view, but she grabs his wrists and yanks them back down. He pouts up at her while she watches on, unamused.
“Most of my usual date plans are like, public? We can’t exactly just show up at Benny’s and share a milkshake, you know?” Chrissy grimaces, not having thought of that, but before she can apologize, he continues talking. “And besides…”
He trails off, eyes darting back and forth between her eyes as his blush travels down his neck and up the bridge of his nose.
“Besides?” she prompts, voice soft.
“We started this whole thing together, right?” he asks, looking earnestly up at her. “It wouldn’t feel right if we didn’t finish it together.”
Chrissy’s shriveled heart grows three sizes and bursts with such a ferocious love that she collapses onto him without warning, arms wrapping around him and squeezing tight enough that he groans.
“I love you, Steve Harrington,” she says, ignoring all his pleas for her to loosen her hold. “I’m so glad you looked pathetic enough that day for me to come ask if you needed help.”
“I didn’t look that pathetic,” he grumbles, finally succeeding in tossing her off of him, sending her careening off the bed and onto the lush carpet of his bedroom floor.
He peers over the side of the bed, looking worried, so she smiles up at him until he reaches down and helps her back up.
“You looked like a wet puppy someone had tossed in a river,” she replies, bulldozing through his continued complaints to ask, “now, what were you thinking?”
In the end, it’s a fairly typical date set-up, but instead of dinner at a nice restaurant, it’s in Steve’s home. They lay a checkered table cloth across the Harrington’s breakfast nook, make sure he has all the ingredients for burgers and fries, and then set about attempting to make milkshakes once Steve reveals he’s never made them before.
Their first attempt splatters chocolate ice cream and milk all over the ceiling. Their second results in a water concoction that, while edible, is less than pleasant.
The third is thick, barely able to be sucked through one of the straw’s Steve had stolen from Benny’s. It’s perfect.
“Can you dump Eddie so I can go on the date instead?” she asks, barely pausing in her pursuit of sucking the shake through her straw.
Steve laughs and replies, “Or, I can just make you one whenever you want,” he says, nudging the shake closer to her, leaving his own straw inside.
She beams, and drinks the entire thing.
Steve accosts her before lunch the day of, telling Jeff, “can you tell everyone we’ll be missing lunch? Thanks,” before dragging her away.
“I thought we were done with this,” she says, settling into the seat across from him as he pulls out a familiar notebook she hasn’t even glimpsed for weeks.
He opens it, but doesn’t turn to the back of the notebook where all his rough draft secret admirer letters lay. Instead, he pulls a light blue envelope from the front and hands it over to her.
She stares down at Eddie’s name in Steve’s messy scrawl, clearly written carefully to keep it legible.
“Steve?” she asks, ghosting her fingers over the letters before looking up into his anxious face.
“It’s just—I liked writing the letters, so I wanted to give him one on our date, so,” he breaks their gazes to look down at the envelope, biting his lip. “I already wrote it, but it wouldn’t feel right if you didn’t read it first.”
Steve Harrington, Chrissy thinks, eyes welling with all the fondness her body’s too small to contain. “Okay,” she sniffs, smiling down at the letter as she carefully slides her finger under the envelope’s flap and pulls it free.
It unfolds into the letter itself, Steve having clearly reverse-engineered it from all the times Eddie had done the same. Only then does she realize that at some point, he must have stolen a page from her planner because that’s the same as the first time, too.
She raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t say anything, just hunches back over the letter and begins to read.
   Eddie —
   I know we don’t have to do this anymore, but I miss it. Isn’t that the strangest thing? I’m happy talking to you face to face, holding your hand beneath the table, pressing my lips against yours, but I miss reading your words, and I miss writing my own.
   So, here I am, writing you the day before our second date, so nervous and excited I might just throw up. Because we can do it now, you know? We can do all the things we’ve talked about (and more). I’m excited to do them with you.    
   If the date goes well, I want you to put this under your pillow, hold my face in your mind, and dream of me.
   Hopefully Yours, Hopefully Always,
   Steve
   P.S. I know you can just put them in my locker now, but maybe put this one in The Return of the King? Just this once, for me?
“How is it?” Steve asks when she’s been staring down at the words on the page for probably too long. “Is it okay?”
“It’s perfect,” she says, grinning when his entire face lights up like a Christmas tree. “And so are you.”
***
“They’re not coming to lunch,” Jeff says as he settles onto the bench at their usual table, a slab of lasagna already somehow congealing on his tray.
“Are they okay?” Eddie asks, dropping his own fork to try to glean any worry on Jeff’s own face.
“Steve was definitely excited when he dragged Chrissy off,” Jeff replies, shrugging. Before Eddie can even spit out his follow-up question, Jeff continues, “no idea what they’re doing, though,” and he closes his mouth.
“I know,” Robin calls from down the table, voice all sing-songy and sly.
Eddie turns to glare at her, but she just keeps grinning around her sandwich, Vickie looking equally lost at her side.
“Are you going to enlighten the rest of the class,” Eddie asks, gesturing to the rest of the table despite clearly being the only one who gives a shit.
Robin grins wider and replies, “it’s a secret,” tauntingly like she knows somehow that word is his ultimate trigger.
Eddie whines, but no one pays him any mind. Even more cruelly, he doesn’t see Steve for the rest of the school day, leaving him flushed and flustered as he rushes home to get ready for their date. 
Unfortunately, it’s Wayne’s day off, so he’s there to heckle Eddie as he changes his outfit enough times to leave his hair a frizzy mop on the top of his head.
“You dressin’ for a date or to be the janitor’s new mop?” Wayne asks, laughing as Eddie rushes past him and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind himself.
Unfortunately, Wayne’s right, so Eddie runs a damp brush through his hair, trying to make the frizziness merge back with the rest of his hair. When it doesn’t really work, Eddie folds his hair into a bun and elects not to look at himself in the mirror again.
With ten minutes to spare, Eddie moves his frantic pacing for the living room, walking back and forth in front of Wayne, fingers gyrating as he tries to keep them from further ruining his hair.
“You really wearing that?” Wayne asks, long since having given up on trying to watch the TV, Eddie’s body too much of a moving obstacle to crane his neck around.
Eddie stops and stares down at his outfit. “What’s wrong with this?”
It’s a more put together version of his usual style: his only pair of black jeans that haven’t gotten any holes yet, clunky boots, still adequately polished from his last date with Steve, a plain black t-shirt, fingers full of rings except the one he keeps bare, the ring still on Steve’s own finger.
“You know what I mean, boy,” Wayne sighs, looking him up and down with so much judgment that Eddie wants to shrivel up and die. “Ain’t the jacket a bit much?”
Eddie fondles the green and white cuff of the jacket’s sleeve. He does a little spin, like a dog chasing its own tail, trying to get a look at the way it hangs on his frame.
Wayne’s right—it looks almost incongruous on him, clashing absurdly with the rest of his outfit, but it’s got Steve’s name on its back, and a small, shivery part of Eddie likes that. Jock courting rituals are absurd, but there’s maybe something to this one.
Maybe Steve will like it, too—his name on Eddie’s back.
“Is it too much?” Eddie asks, voice taking on that higher pitch that only dogs can hear. He turns to Wayne, panicky and desperate. “Do you think it’s coming on too strong?”
Wayne’s mouth twists up all sardonic and wry as he snorts and replies, “that boy’s been writing you love notes for months. There ain’t no such thing as too strong, for a thing like that.”
Eddie feels his cheeks warm. He breaks eye contact, looking down the floor as he scuffs the toe of his boot against the carpet bashfully.
Before he can voice any of the self-conscious bullshit kicking around in his head, there’s a knock at the door. Eddie snaps his head up and freezes, staring with mounting hysteria at the closed front door until there’s a second knock and he snaps back to life.
“Oh my god, places everybody!” Eddie cries, clutching at his head in panic, undoing all the work he’d done on his hair in one fell swoop.
“I ain’t moving,” Wayne says from the chair.
Eddie rushes past him, skidding to a halt in front of the door. He wastes precious seconds taking a few deep breaths before he swings the door open, fake smile plastered on his face. It melts into something excited and real when he catches sight of Steve.
Steve, who’s wearing the leather jacket Chrissy still hasn't returned. Steve, who’s fiddling with the lapels and blushing self-consciously until he catches sight of Eddie’s own attire and bursts out laughing.
“Great minds think alike, huh Harrington?” Eddie asks, smiling down at him.
While on Eddie, the aesthetic mismatch looks bizarre, Steve’s light-wash jeans and green polo somehow only enhance the effect of Eddie’s oversized leather jacket.
“It’s The Return of the King,” Eddie says, looking up and down Steve’s body, smirking before catching sight of his befuddled face. “We’ve really gotta get you up to date on Tolkien.”
“Oh, the hobbit books?” Steve asks, smiling brightly. “I just started the first one. Bilbo’s a pretty cool dude.”
Eddie takes a shuddering breath, heart kicking up a notch. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool,” Eddie replies in a hushed tone. Steve Harrington is reading The Hobbit. This fact somehow has him feeling more faint than seeing him in Eddie’s own jacket. He clears his throat, face hot, heartbeat rapid. “Should—should we go?”
His voice squeaks awkwardly, but Steve doesn’t seem to notice. He just beams up at Eddie and takes two graceful steps back off the front stoop, holding his arm out to gesture Eddie over the threshold of his own trailer.
Eddie slams the door, muffling Wayne’s embarrassing call of, “have him home by ten!” just in time.
He skips down the steps and latches onto Steve’s held out arm, letting Steve lead him toward his car like a gentleman.
“You know, I think Chrissy and Jeff had some sort of weird sex thing with this jacket?” Eddie asks, shaking his arm demonstratively.
“Yeah, Chrissy told me.”
"Seriously?" Eddie squawks, stopping suddenly enough that he kicks up gravel beneath his boots.
"No, you idiot,” Steve says, laughing at him even as he stops beside him, still holding onto Eddie’s arm.
“Oh, good because—”
“Jeff did.”
Eddie sputters, eyes wide until he turns and sees Steve’s shit-stirring grin. “You’re the worst,” he says, pouting as Steve just starts laughing again. “Why do I even like you?”
That has Steve’s ears turning pink, and his eyes averting to look toward his car, seeming almost shy. “Well,” he starts before cutting himself off when his voice comes out strangely high. He clears his throat and continues, “shall we?”
Steve gestures toward his parked car with his free hand because return of The King or not, this guy’s somehow, inexplicably, a nerd.
Eddie wants to kiss him about it, but they’re in public, already toeing the line of what’s acceptable in polite society, so all he does is squeeze Steve’s arm where it’s still wrapped around his and reply, “we shall.”
There will be time for kisses later—time for all of the things Eddie’s finding he wants to do with Steve Harrington.
They’ve got nothing but time.
The End
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If you've read this far, thank you so much! Especially if you've like, reblogged, or commented. It all means so much to me, and I appreciate every single one of you.
This could have gone on for another 50k, I'm sure, but this feels like the right ending to me. It's not a story about Being Together, it's a story about Finding Each Other, and they've both done that, with Chrissy, and Robin, and Jeff, and now with each other <3<3<3
Now, one final shoutout to @queenie-ofthe-void for both being the best beta a guy can ask for, and to be the one who came up with this idea at all. It literally couldn't exist without you, and I appreciate you so much <3<3<3
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n0tamused · 1 day ago
Note
Do you have any Avenchurin headcanons please, anything you got to feed us?
A/n: I have some unreleased hcs that I wrote some time ago for a friend that I hope you enjoy!
Contents: Aventurine x GN! Reader, fluff, sleeping hcs, hand holding hcs, his reaction to different forms of affection from you, all sfw
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Sleeping
-Aventurine and cuddling are something that somehow occurs rarely, yet they go hand in hand so well 
- The man needs comfort more than so many others it's undeniable, and once he warms up to you he really does crave that physical touch and affection a lot more openly. He needs it more and more until he's all but crawling into you, slotting himself between your arms without a word in silent worry you might not accept him
- But you do and when that settles in his mind he really clings on. He wraps his arms around you and does not let go, nuzzling into you, your neck, your hair, your chest, your back, all depending on your positions and preferences at the moment 
- His favorite position would be something face to face, or rather front to front as he does like to nuzzle into your neck a lot so it's not really eye to eye lol
- He prefers hugging you from the back and cuddling like that when he doesn't really want to face you if he's got something troubling him and he just wants to feel as if he's enough to hold you. Just some little trick he plays with himself ig
- loves when you run your fingers through his hair, and often falls asleep like that, his hold on you slowly growing looser as he slips into slumber
-He has a tendency to seek you out in his sleep at times, he just needs to feel your warmth, especially when the days get rougher and days become darker. You’ll just randomly wake up with his head on your chest or his hand holding yours.
-Aventurine and sleep can vary from time to time and depending on the activities during the day really. He isn’t exactly constant with his sleep schedule. So if he’s had a long, tiring  and busy day he would sleep for longer and go to bed earlier, with his mornings consisting of a few “five more minutes please” if you try to wake him up. His work time doesn’t start too early anyway, so please don’t wake him (his words, not mine)(wake him up)(he needs to get to work-)
- On the other side, if he didn’t have much to do during the day or the activities were more on the satisfying end for him, he does tend to have some form of late night “zoomies” and doesn’t go to bed until at least 1am. It’s not like he is jumping around the house and bouncing off of walls, but he is still talkative, a big chatterbox, and could definitely use a walk to blow some energy off before finally deeming himself tired enough to attempt falling asleep. Playing card games with him also is a nice way to unwind, even if you're too tired to speak, Aventurine will talk for the both of you.
-However, sometimes he stays up for another reason, and that being his own emotional state that comes back to bite him in the rear just when he thinks he has forgotten enough about it, but ignoring it only postpones the issue. Staring at the bedroom ceiling until the early hours of the morning and with his head clouded with thoughts, he tends to just …exist.. Sometimes he cries, sometimes he feels he’s too numb to even do that. Either way, his sleep is fucked wholly in this scenario, and he has half the thought to take a sick day for himself
-As for bed sharing and cuddles - Aventurine doesn’t mind sharing in the slightest, if anything it can be quite comforting. He only makes an exception to this rule when either one of you needs privacy and some time to yourselves. He doesn’t really care if you happen to steal his blanket either. Take it, he’s used to sleeping however and can sleep in most positions, warm or cold. In terms of positions - he doesn’t have a favorite
-As for cuddles, in the start of your relationship he likes to fall asleep solo, with you there if you’re already sharing the bed, but he will crawl to you, be it due to his dreams or in some half asleep- half awake faze in the middle of the night
-He goes for either his head on your chest or in your neck or spooning, can be quite the big cuddler as you grow even closer
Hand holding
- He has gloves on a lot of times but when he goes to hold your hand he does stop to take a glove off, he really does prefer skin on skin contact and, although a minute detail in day to day life, he appreciates it a lot
- If you two are walking he does prefer to hold your hand in a way where your fingers interlock together, just feels so safe and warm and y'all can drag eachother around comfortably and it also shows a side of Aven he often hides. 
- side note(?): Aventurine would love to just pretend for a day or two. And by that I mean he'd love to take you to a planet where both of you are just two nobodies with no names, and he'd love to change out of his signature attire and just be a nobody with you, enjoying the small "meaningless" things with you on this unknown world. In short- being human with you is his fantasy, a dream
- back on track- he prefers if you hold his right hand since he doesn't want you to feel his left one shaking when he's afraid/nervous (if I got the order wrong, don't mind me, just flip em around)
- but if you insist on holding his left arm, he prefers if you hold him by the elbow a lot of times instead of going for your usual interlocked fingers
- if you insist further, he sighs softly as you hold his shaky hand and he internally melts too, occasionally. It does comfort him when you caress that hand or play with his fingers or the rings he wears on them. It gives him something else to focus on and it brings the cacophony in his mind down
Reactions to different ways of affection
- Aventurine has a rather similar reaction to most displays of affection but that doesn't mean they're any less genuine, and there's always a small variation in the way his eyes light up or how big his smile is - it's just that an ordinary person wouldn't quite catch these variations 
-Sometimes, if you manage to catch his reactions on camera they can be quite the precious keepsakes
- How Aventurine melts into the palm of your hand when you cups his cheek, leaning some of his weight into it like an oversized cat and looking at you with shimmering, colorful eyes that just scream "oh how much I love you", his cheeks dusted with faintest of reds
- How Aventurine chuckles, laughs, when you give him a kiss on the cheek or on his temple without any warning sign you'd do anything like that. His hand scratches back at his nape as he waves it off but teases you simultaneously. How could you ever miss the sheen of want in his eyes, the way they glaze over and look at you for the rest of the evening in silent admiration
- Most favorite of all, and especially during the night, Aventurine loves the feel of your fingers through his hair. He looks and feels calmer, he feels human and he feels seen. He feels all his sins and worries melt from his body to get soaked by the mattress beneath him. And he hums shortly, low in his throat as he slowly feels sleep cloud his mind like heavy, comforting mist. And he has the most important person in his life in his hold... he's holding the whole world in his arms tonight.
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Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
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aireia · 9 hours ago
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LOVE... YOU'RE DRUNK. — In which Jing Yuan decides to ask you to marry him while he's drunk out of his mind.
tw/cw: gn! reader, drinking/ alcohol consumption, mild crack, overall so fluffy my teeth are rotting. Beta read? What's that? OOC.
note: Rewritten// reposted from my old account (@ rrxaiky)
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“Marry me.” 
“Jing Yuan, love, you’re drunk,” you sighed, taking a small sip of the drink you had ordered. Your lover had one of your hands trapped between his own, and had asked you to marry him with full confidence in his voice. When you opened your eyes to look at him again, you could see the sadness in his eyes, feeling rejected… Before you even rejected him. He let out a yawn and placed his head on your shoulder, letting go of your arms before he circled his own around your waist.
“Look, Yuan- I’m not saying I don’t want to marry you, but you’re not in your right mind right now, so let’s talk about it in the morning, yea?” you gently pulled away from him, carefully setting your drink down before patting his head and ruffling his hair. 
Jing Yuan, however, didn’t seem too happy with your response. He placed his hand on his chest, and dramatically sighed. “You’re quite a cruel lover, my dear. Tell me,” he slurred into your ear, his tiredness slowly getting to him. “Would you marry me if I weren’t drunk?” You spared him a glance and noticed his now half lidded eyes, usually a sign he was about to fall asleep on you and make it your problem.
You pretended to think for a while before responding. “Maybe.” Your response made him frown a little, which earned a chuckle from you. “Okay, okay, fine, I will. Let’s go home,” you added, not wanting this conversation to last until the effects of alcohol wore off. You quickly finished your drink and paid your tabs off before half dragging him out of the bar.
Back in the comfort of your shared home, you sat Jing Yuan down on the bed before changing him into more comfortable clothes– While silently cursing him for one, being drunk, and two, being uncooperative and trying to drag you down and fall asleep right then and there. He’d fallen asleep sitting up by the time you finished, so you laid him down on the bed and covered him with a blanket, chuckling to yourself when he reached over to your side of the bed, a few creases appearing on his forehead when he realised you weren’t beside him.
You headed to the bathroom to take a quick shower before you finally joined him in bed, where he happily pulled you closer the moment you laid down. You felt your eyelids growing heavier and heavier as you brushed your hands through Jing Yuan’s soft locks. 
Just before you fell asleep, you gave your words another thought. Were your words technically an affirmation to him that you’d marry him if he proposed? Okay… Now that you think about it, it was probably best to also leave that thought for tomorrow. Sure, the two of you had been talking about getting engaged, but it’s past midnight, and you just don’t have the energy to think.
Or, not.
“Yuan..?” You mumbled as your eyes fluttered open when you felt something on your hand. Once you adjusted your vision, you could see Jing Yuan holding your hand up to his lips, gently pressing his lips onto your ring finger. He was kissing the promise ring he’d gotten you a while ago, only leaning down to kiss you good morning when he realised you were awake. 
You sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as Jing Yuan pulled you into his lap, placing his head on your shoulder once again. He held your hand up for you to stare at the pretty band on your finger.
“You said you’d accept if I proposed when I weren’t drunk,” he said, stretching a little before he leaned over to grab something. He then held the box up beside your hand and opened it, revealing a pair of engagement rings.
“So, may I have your hand in marriage, dearest?” He let go of your hand and let it wrap around your waist, bringing your back closer to his chest.
This man was going to be the death of you, you swear. 
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by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.
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