#keeping the letter over his heart for courage

[carebeardean]

Charles has always left Edwin little notes slipped between the pages of his favorite books, in his science equipment, places he knows Edwin loves. Just silly things—post its that say “hi Edwin :)”. doodles of Edwin with his nose stuck in a book. reminders to stock up on wolfsbane. but.

Then, post canon, Edwin tentatively starts dating people. And it’s ridiculous, because Edwin’s right there, all the time, but Charles..misses him a bit. And his heads a mess, and he can’t sort out what the hell he’s feeling most of the time, and whenever he tries to say any of it out loud it comes out rubbish.

So. He writes down some of the shit he can’t say right, and because he’s a coward, hides them so he doesn’t have to see Edwin’s face when he reads them.

then Edwin starts writing back.

Neat lilac blue little envelopes appear in Charles coat pockets. In his bag. Once, in his shoe? Some nights, Edwin will clear his throat and mention something from a letter, offhand, like they’re just picking up conversation, and Charles can pretend they are. That they always have talked about the basement, the belt, the nameless fear that chokes him every time Edwin walks out the door with someone else on his arm.

Sometimes he can’t. The words get stuck in his throat. Edwin’s not mad, he’s maddeningly, stubbornly kind about it, which is worse.

Some nights they trade. A secret for a secret. Charles learns about the novels Edwin used to hide under his mattress, about all the lonely years before Charles got there. About Simon.

Meanwhile, Edwin is losing his mind, because Charles has accidentally stumbled onto what was a fucking courting ritual in his time. Love letters were something engaged couples treasured for years, kept and reread over and over. (Edwin does. keep them in a special box, will take one out and trace the words, tuck it in his breast pocket for courage).

Edwin would rather have to reattach a limb again than lose Charles trust, all the dark and beautiful things he shares with Edwin only. He knows—knows Charles doesn’t mean to make him fall more in love with him.

[acourtofquestions]

KINGDOM OF ASH (by SJM)

Chapter 48

THE FAMILY REUINION🥹😆😭🫶& MY SOULLL

But when they reached Princess Hasar's battle tent, when they had all gathered around a map of Anielle, they had only a few minutes of discussion before they were interrupted. By the person Chaol least expected to walk through the flaps.

A moment later, Chaol was glad he was sitting down.

Nesryn breathed, "Holy gods."

Chaol was inclined to agree as Aelin Galathynius, Rowan Whitethorn, and several others entered the tent.

They were mud-splattered, the Queen of Terrasen's braided hair far longer than Chaol had last seen. And her eyes ... Not the soft, yet fiery gaze. But something older. Wearier.

Chaol shot to his feet. "I thought you were in Terrasen," he blurted. All the reports had confirmed it. Yet here she stood, no army in sight.

Three Fae males-towering warriors as broad and muscled as Rowan—had entered, along with a delicate, dark-haired human woman.

But Aelin was only staring at him. Staring and staring at him.

No one spoke as tears began sliding down her face. Not at his being here, Chaol realized as he took up his cane and limped toward Aelin.

But at him. Standing. Walking.

The young queen let out a broken laugh of joy and flung her arms around his neck. Pain lanced down his spine at the impact, but Chaol held her right back, every question fading from his tongue.

Aelin was shaking as she pulled away. "I knew you would," she breathed, gazing down his body, to his feet, then up again. "I knew you'd do it."

"Not alone," he said thickly. Chaol swallowed, releasing Aelin to extend an arm behind him. To the woman he knew stood there, a hand over the locket at her neck.

Perhaps Aelin would not remember, perhaps their encounter years ago had meant nothing to her at all, but Chaol drew Yrene forward. "Aelin, allow me to introduce"

"Yrene Towers," the queen breathed as his wife stepped to his side.

The two women stared at each other.

Yrene's mouth quivered as she opened the silver locket and pulled out a piece of paper. Hands trembling, she extended it to the queen. Aelin's own hands shook as she accepted the scrap.

"Thank you," Yrene whispered.

Chaol supposed it was all that really needed to be said.

Aelin unfolded the paper, reading the note she'd written, seeing the lines from the hundreds of foldings and rereadings these past few years.

"I went to the Torre," Yrene said, her voice cracking. "I took the money you gave me, and went to the Torre. And I became the heir apparent to the Healer on High. And now I have come back, to do what I can. I taught every healer I could the lessons you showed me that night, about self-defense. I didn't waste it-not a coin you gave me, or a moment of the time, the life you bought me." Tears were rolling and rolling down Yrene's face. "I didn't waste any of it."

Aelin closed her eyes, smiling through her own tears, and when she opened them, she took Yrene's shaking hands. "Now it is my turn to thank you." But Aelin's gaze fell upon the wedding band on Yrene's finger, and when she glanced to Chaol, he grinned.

"No longer Yrene Towers," Chaol said softly, "but Yrene Westfall."

Aelin let out one of those choked, joyous laughs, and Rowan stepped up to her side.

Yrene's head tilted back to take in the warrior's full height, her eyes widening-not only at Rowan's size, but at the pointed ears, the slightly elongated canines and tattoo. Aelin said, "Then let me introduce you, Lady Westfall, to my own husband, Prince Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius."

For that was indeed a wedding band on the queen's finger, the emerald mud-splattered but bright. On Rowan's own hand, a gold-and-ruby ring gleamed.

"My mate," Aelin added, fluttering her lashes at the Fae male. Rowan rolled his eyes, yet couldn't entirely contain his smile as he inclined his head to Yrene.

Yrene bowed, but Aelin snorted. "None of that, please. It'll go right to his immortal head." Her grin softened as Yrene blushed, and Aelin held up the scrap of paper. "May I keep this?" She eyed Yrene's locket. "Or does it go in there?"

Yrene folded the queen's fingers around the paper. "It is yours, as it always was. A piece of your bravery that helped me find my own."

Aelin shook her head, as if to dismiss the claim.

But Yrene squeezed Aelin's closed hand. "It gave me courage, the words you wrote. Every mile I traveled, every long hour I studied and worked, it gave me courage. I thank you for that, too."

Aelin swallowed hard, and Chaol took that as excuse enough to sit again, his back giving a grateful tinge. He said to the queen, "There is another person responsible for this army being here." He gestured to Nesryn, the woman already smiling at the queen. "The rukhin you see, the army gathered, is as much because of Nesryn as it is because of me."

A spark lit Aelin's eyes, and both women met halfway in a tight embrace. "I want to hear the entire story," Aelin said. "Every word of it." Nesryn's subdued smile widened. "So you shall. But later." Aelin clapped her on the shoulder and turned to the two royals still by the desk. Tall and regal, but as mud-splattered as the queen.

Chaol blurted, "Dorian?"

Rowan answered, "Not with us." He glanced to the royals.

"They know everything," Nesryn said

"He's with Manon," Aelin said simply.

Chaol wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved. "Hunting for something important."

The keys. Holy gods.

Aelin nodded. Later. He'd think on where Dorian might now be later. Aelin nodded again. The full story would come then too.

Nesryn said, "May I present Princess Hasar and Prince Sartaq."

Aelin bowed—low. "You have my eternal gratitude," Aelin said, and the voice that came out of her was indeed that of a queen. Any shock Sartaq and Hasar had shown upon the queen bowing so low was hidden as they bowed back, the portrait of courtly grace.

"My father," Sartaq said, "remained in the khaganate to oversee our lands, along with our siblings Duva and Arghun. But my brother Kashin sails with the rest of the army. He was not two weeks behind us when we left."

Aelin glanced to Chaol, and he nodded.

Something glittered in her eyes at the confirmation, but the queen jerked her chin at Hasar. "Did you get my letter?"

The letter that Aelin had sent months ago, begging for aid and promising only a better world in return. Hasar picked at her nails. "Perhaps. I get far too many letters from fellow princesses these days to possibly remember or answer all of them."

Aelin smirked, as if the two of them spoke a language no one else could understand, a special code between two equally arrogant and proud women. But she motioned to her companions, who stepped forward. "Allow me to introduce my friends. Lord Gavriel, of Doranelle." A nod toward the tawny-eyed and golden-haired warrior who bowed.

Tattoos covered his neck, his hands, but his every motion was graceful. "My uncle, of sorts," Aelin added with a smirk at Gavriel. At Chaol's narrowed brows, she explained, "He's Aedion's father."

"Well, that explains a few things," Nesryn muttered.

The hair, the broad-planed face ... yes, it was the same. But where Aedion was fire, Gavriel seemed to be stone. Indeed, his eyes were solemn as he said, "Aedion is my pride." Emotion rippled over Aelin's face, but she gestured to the dark-haired male. Not someone Chaol ever wanted to tangle with, he decided as he surveyed the granite-hewn features, the black eyes and unsmiling mouth.

"Lorcan Salvaterre, formerly of Doranelle, and now a blood-sworn member of my court." As if that weren't a shock enough, Aelin winked at the imposing male. Lorcan scowled. "We're still in the adjustment period," she loudly whispered, and Yrene chuckled.

Lorcan Salvaterre. Chaol hadn't met the male this spring in Rifthold, but he'd heard all about him. That he'd been Maeve's most trusted commander, her most loyal and fierce warrior.

That he'd wanted to kill Aelin, hated Aelin.

How this had come about, why she was not in Terrasen with her army ... "You, too, have a tale to tell," Chaol said.

"Indeed I do." Aelin's eyes guttered, and Rowan put a hand on her lower back. Bad— something terrible had occurred. Chaol scanned Aelin for any hint of it. He stopped when he noticed the smoothness of the skin at her neck. The lack of scars. The missing scars on her hands, her palms. "Later," Aelin said softly. She straightened her shoulders, and another golden-haired male came forward. Beautiful. That was the only way to describe him. "Fenrys ... You know, I don't actually know your family name."

Fenrys threw a roguish wink at the queen.

"Moonbeam."

"It is not," Aelin hissed, choking on a laugh.

Fenrys laid a hand on his heart. "I am blood-sworn to you. Would I lie?"

Another blood-sworn Fae male in her court.

Across the tent, Sartaq cursed in his own tongue. As if he'd heard of Lorcan, and Gavriel, and Fenrys.

Aelin gave Fenrys a vulgar gesture that set Hasar chuckling, and faced the royals. "They're barely housebroken. Hardly fit for your fine company." Even Sartaq smiled at that. But it was to the small, delicate woman that Aelin now gestured. "And the only civilized member of my court, Lady Elide Lochan of Perranth." Perranth. Chaol had combed through the family trees of Terrasen just this winter, had seen the lists of so many royal households crossed out, victim to the conquest ten years ago.

Elide's name had been among them.

Another Terrasen royal who had managed to evade Adarlan's butchers.

The pretty young woman took a limping step forward, and bobbed a curtsy to the royals. Her boots concealed any sign of the source of the injury, but Yrene's attention shot right to her leg. Her ankle. "It's an honor to meet all of you," Elide said, her voice low and steady. Her dark eyes swept over them, cunning and clear. Like she could see beneath their skin and bones, to the souls beneath.

Aelin wiped her hands. "Well, that's over and done with," she announced, and strode to the desk and map. "Shall we discuss where you all plan to march once we beat the living shit out of this army?"

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 1

James Potter x Reader

Summary: You had always been the sort to keep to yourself, never expecting any attention. That is until a mysterious letter is slipped under your door…

Warnings: Extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, some subtle wolfstar action in the background, reader plays hard to get without intending to, idiots in love, oc!friends, lovesick!james x salty!reader, reader low key hates James at the beginning but it’s for the plot I swear! No use of Y/N, reader is in the girls’ dorms but gender is rarely specified, NOT EDITED!

Word count: 1.4K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Summer shifted with a gust of wind, dragging with it the soft chill of the Scottish coast. The leaves turned from emerald to amber, marking the start of your final year at Hogwarts.

Gryffindor had instilled a sense of courage in you, one that you often left at home when returning to the brooding towers that form your school. So, with the brewing feeling of newfound bravery in your heart, you approached the Gryffindor common room with the mentality that this will be your year.

The crowded floor of the comforting common room was painted with school shoes and flashes of red as your fellow house members danced in a flurry of reunions and affections. Yeah…this will be your year. Once you figure out how to socialise without cringing from embarrassment.

You shifted past the cliques and gangs, attempting to find your more resolved group of companions. Standing on the stairs by the girls’ dorms was the sight you were hoping for.

“Charlie! Hope!” You called, striding over to your much loved roommates.

“I’m surprised you survived the stampede down there, come to safety!” Charlie joked with open arms, guiding you into a warm embrace.

“Seems like the summer didn’t do much for the maturity in this house…” Hope muttered into your shoulder as she joined the reunion, glancing at the chaos ensuing behind you.

Charlie and Hope were your personal lifelines, a combination of wits and humility that allowed you to embrace the more tentative side of yourself. You first bonded over your shock discoveries as Gryffindors, as opposed to your predicted places in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. While none of you were sure of why or how you found yourselves in the house of courage and bravery - or as you often called it, the pit of egos and self-righteousness - you certainly found a home between the pair, never stepping outside the social boundaries of your timid trio.

You marched towards the comfort of your dorm, arms linked with your companions and back turned to a pair of unacknowledged, watchful eyes, shaded by rounded glasses.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

James often found hellos to be even harder than goodbyes, a swelling of tears and joy erupting from the boy’s face the second he laid his golden eyes on his mischievous friends. Sirius, Remus and Peter lined the couch territorially, leaving space in the middle for one James Potter to jump into in excited greeting.

“Prongs! We thought you’d never show!” Exclaimed Sirius in a lighthearted tone, smirking at the boy’s glowing grin. “Glad to see us, then?”

“Oh Pads, you know I’d never miss a single day with you by my side if I had the choice!” James met his friend’s playful tone, though his genuine affection shone through the string of words he praised. He found comfort against the back of the couch, bursting into a ramble of “how are you?”, “I missed you” and “what did you do over the summer?” which the other Marauders dutifully answered with similar excitement.

James was busy engaging with Sirius’ vengeful tale of redeeming himself through a series of pranks planned for the coming school year when he found himself glancing towards a familiar figure above the crowd. Your hair reflected the light of the room, almost as if an angel’s halo surrounded your head. Your face, lit up with familiarity at your friends’ embrace, caused a physical reaction from the boy as his lips parted. Had you gotten even more hauntingly beautiful since the last year? James didn’t think it was possib-

“Pro-ongs, I think it’s about time you made a move on that lovely little bird, don’t you?” Sirius sang, inching closer to the captivated face of his friend. A light dusting of peachy blush turned dark on his cheeks under the sudden attention. “I- what? W-who?” James laughed, though he knew full well that his friends had caught onto his not-so-little crush years ago.

“I mean, if she’s so distracting that you can’t even focus on one of the most engaging plots for revenge ever crafted by the master of mischief,” Sirius gestured to himself, “then I don’t see why you shouldn’t try for an actual conversation with her. Moony here was just agreeing with me before you arrived, weren’t you, sweet stuff?”

Sirius turned to the boy sitting on the other side of the young Potter as Remus nodded in reserved agreement. “I know you think she’d never go for a boy like you, James, but Sirius has a point.” Remus advised. James considered his friends’ logical conclusions, realising he should probably come to the same.

There’s not long left, Potter, he told himself. We’ll graduate and the only person you’ve ever really felt something for will be out of your grasp forever. It’s now or never. “Ok…ok, I’ll do it. This will be the year. This will be my year.” James responded, eyes still lingering on you as you walked towards your dorm, slowly shrinking in his line of sight. His friends cheered in satisfied agreement. This will be his year. The year he shares with you.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Unpacked trunks and flittering gossip filled your dorm room walls as you giggled with your loyal friends. “So…any chance one of you might pursue a love life for once?” Hope teased, despite her own lack of romantic involvement. Charlie let out a scoff, grinning her lopsided grin at Hope’s curiosity. “Certainly not in this house, but there might be a few lucky souls in the others who could try to keep up with me.” She laughed with you and Hope, basking in the joy that only you three could harvest from one another.

“Any boys catch your eye? Oh! Maybe any girls?” Hope turned the question to you as you hid a laugh behind your hand. “Some of these kids might as well just date themselves at this point! I mean, how can you love yourself that much and leave any room to love someone else?” You cried, exasperation shaping your tone. “Are we talking about who I think we’re talking ab-“ “OH you mean the Marauders!?” Charlie exclaimed, interrupting Hope’s more subtle approach to the subject.

“Of course I’m talking about those good for nothing clowns,” You responded, “They’re too preoccupied with themselves to even notice anyone else! On the last week of the last year, Sirius managed to shove me into a wall in the hallway without blinking an eye. He was too caught up in his own reflection in the polished floor to notice! Remus and Peter turn a blind eye to all the mischief their friends cause, and only if they themselves aren’t involved. And that boy, James Potter…” You continue your ranting, “it’s like there’s no thoughts behind that smug face of his! He bumped into me as we both attempted to exit through a classroom door at the same time, pushing my books out of my arms and onto the floor. I looked at him expectedly for some sort of sign to show he was apologetic, but he just stood and stared at me wide-eyed! That is, before he scurried away as if he was suddenly half his own size, looking like a rodent in an athlete’s body!”

Charlie and Hope shared a knowing look when you commented on the last Marauder’s appearance, communicating a silent assumption that you weren’t quite as annoyed with the head boy as you were confused. “I digress…” you concluded with a flushed expression. “If any boy in this house even attempts to approach me I should hope for his sake that he’s matured at a rate faster than the speed of light over the summer, otherwise he doesn’t stand a-“

Pshhh.

All eyes in the room turn towards the door. A light blue envelope with dark ink scribbled on the front sat patiently at the base of the door, having just been pushed below from a mysterious source on the other side.

“…chance.” You finished, curiosity propelling your trio towards the unfamiliar object. Labeled on the front, communicating with newfound clarity now that you had closed the distance between yourself and the letter, was a boyish, unpolished mark of your name. Quiet settled on the three of you for a moment. “OH. MY. GOD!” Charlie exclaimed, snatching the paper from the floor and sprinting towards your bed. “Hey, wait for me! I want to read it too!” Hope pursued your friend. Lastly, you rose from your position on the floor and slowly approached the bed as your friends eagerly ripped open the letter.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A/N: Thank you for reading! I intend on expanding this into a pretty fluffy series with James trying to win reader over ;) sorry for the slow chapter, it will get more eventful in future updates now that the context is established. Part 2 is up! Comment to be added to the taglist <3

[prythianpages]

Love Me Like You Do | Cassian

cassian x love witch reader | summary: Cassian has a bad mission and you're there to comfort him.

warnings: fluff, angst

word count: 1,887

a/n: Just something short and sweet I wrote after getting stuck on another part for this series.

Heart thudding madly against your chest, you stood at the gates of the High Lord’s riverhouse. The grand ironwork arched above you, intricate designs woven into the metal, casting shadows that danced in the late afternoon sun. The air was filled with the scent of blooming jasmine, mingling with the cool breeze coming off the nearby river.

You were tense, fingers curling and uncurling against the cute, pink cake carrier you held. A strange feeling that was becoming way too familiar for your own comfort settled into your stomach, spurred on by your concern for Cassian.

Your letters had gone unanswered for the past week and a half. You hadn’t seen him since before that, and worry began to gnaw at you. Had you done something to upset him? Or worse, had something happened to him?

It’s why you had baked a chocolate cake to have an excuse to check up on him. Taking a deep breath, you finally gathered the courage to press the buzzer. After a few moments, the gates were opening. Your legs moved almost on their own, carrying you up the cobblestoned pathway lined with neatly trimmed hedges and colorful flower beds.

As you reached the doorsteps, the door swung open, revealing the Night Court’s High Lord. Rhysand was as captivating as ever, donning that signature smile of his that seemed to hold a thousand secrets. “Y/n,” he greeted you. “What a pleasant surprise. Please, come in.”

"Thank you," you reply, stepping inside the grand foyer. "I, uh, made this for Cas…”

Rhysand’s smile softened, his violet eyes twinkling with a warmth that eased some of your tension. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had ventured off into your mind or you were simply that easy to read.

“Nyx will be disappointed it’s not for him.”

“I’ll make sure Cas shares.”

“He’s not going to,” Rhysand chuckles but all amusement leaves his face as he turns his head slightly. “He’s in his study. Third room to the right. He might be in a mood. He hasn’t spoken to us much these past couple of days. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you. Maybe you can figure out why he’s been avoiding us.”

**

When you reached Cassian's study, you paused, taking another deep breath before gently pushing the door open. 

Cassian stood in front of his desk, papers strewn about. His head was lowered, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he leaned his palms against the wood. His wings drooped slightly, their usual proud arc diminished. 

His head perked up at the sound of the door. “Go away, Rhys,” he said, voice rough, as if he hadn’t used it in hours.

“It’s not him.”

"y/n?" 

You offered a tentative smile, despite the fact his back was turned to you. "I brought you something.”

“You should go.”

Setting the cake on a nearby table, you approached him slowly, giving him time to tell you to go away. If he did, you would do so. But his silence let you know that despite his words, he didn’t want you to go. 

You moved behind him, your heart aching at the sight of his tension. Cassian didn’t talk about his role as general in the Night Court much. Though he was proud of his title, he preferred to leave work at work. You knew enough to understand how jarring and exhausting his job could be—a never-ending demand to keep the Night Court’s warriors in check and ensure their readiness for any threat.

The last time he had visited your shop, he spoke about the mission he had been dreading. One that involved visiting multiple Illyrian war camps and restoring order to the recent disturbances in Illyria. The unrest there was a knot of conflict and simmering resentment. Another never-ending chaos

It was clear to you now that, that mission had gone as he expected.

Without a word, you wrapped your arms around him from behind, knowing just how much physical touch meant to him. It was Cassian’s main love language, and among the first things you had learned about him. You rested your cheek against his broad back, careful not to brush against his wings.

He stiffened for a moment, but then he relaxed into your embrace. You held him close, feeling his shoulders slowly unclench as you let the quiet of the moment stretch between you, not knowing just how warm and grounding your touch was to him.

“I’ve been worried about you. It’s been awhile since you visited my shop or responded to my letters. I thought you were upset with me or something happened to you…”

He let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. It’s been…a lot. I didn’t want to burden you–”

“You’re not a burden, Cas.” You interrupt gently. “I’m here for you.”

Cassian rested his hand over where yours were crossed. You immediately pulled away from him, turning him to face you, lips pressed into a frown as you took in the bandage wrapped around one of his hands that went all the way up to his arm. The frown in your brow deepened when you also took note of the healing bruise on the left side of his face. Instinctively, you reached out a hand but Cassian turned his head and your hand fell back to your side.

"It's nothing," he says dismissively.

“Does it hurt?”

“No.” Cassian replies but when you reach out for his injured arm, fingers gently grasping his hand, he winces.

You move his hand closer to you, gaze narrowing as you assess the bandaging. It appears to be clean and fresh–no hint of that metallic scent of blood. You decide it’s best not to unravel it as whoever treated his wound already did the most one could do. Instead, you bring his hand to your mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his bandaged hand.

“y/n, what–”

“A kiss makes everything better,” you explain, smiling when you see your lipstick left an imprint on the white bandaging. Pink stardust rose from the lip stain, traveling up and down his arm, enveloping in a magic bandage of its own before seeping into the one right below it. It draws a shudder from Cassian.

Your eyes meet his. “Would you like me to kiss that bruise of yours?” You ask, tone bordering on playful.

“I’m okay,” Cassian says, voice slightly strained as he tries to maintain his composure. He decides to redirect your attention.  “I didn’t know you had healing powers.”

“It’s not so much healing, it’s really just alleviating some pains.” You tell him with a small shrug. “I should look into some healing potions and spells some more for your sake. It won’t be as great as the healers but something is better than nothing, right?”

Cassian just stared at you.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion at his intense gaze.

Cassian blinks, tearing his gaze from you momentarily as he becomes suddenly interested in your bright, pink shoes. “Eyes, a nose, a mouth…”

He looks back up, catching the way you roll your eyes. It draws a smile from Cassian. A genuine one. 

“Rhysand says you haven’t spoken to them much recently,” you say, the name of the Night Court’s High Lord still tasting foreign to your tongue. You turn one of the chairs in front of the desk to face him before settling in. You nudge his boot with yours, silently prompting him to do the same with the chair behind him.

With a sigh, Cassian slumps into the chair across from you, his usual confidence replaced by a weary demeanor. “Is that why he sent you?”

“No one sent me. I brought myself here and that chocolate cake over there.”

Cassian’s eyes light up, a spark of his usual charm returning, making you laugh. He turns his head, following your gesture. Using your magic, you float the cake carrier gently onto his lap. “Baked it myself,” you grin proudly.

“So it’s not edible then?”

“Rude!” you exclaim, flicking your wrist and sending a sprinkle of pink stardust his way. He coughs, the glimmer of your magic enveloping him briefly in a sparkling haze. “I had Moxie taste test it, so it’s very edible.”

Cassian chuckles when he opens the cake carrier to see that a slice was indeed missing.  Comforted by your words, as that young apprentice of yours was the pickiest eater, he inhales deeply, taking pleasure in the rich aroma of chocolate that invades his senses.

But the pleasure is short-lived as your pink magic closes the cake carrier with a loud snap. His face falls slightly, and he looks at you with a mix of curiosity and caution.

“Why have you been avoiding your family?” You ask and with a bit of hesitance, you add, “and me?”

Cassian shifts in his seat. He looks down at his hands, his fingers tracing the edge of the cake carrier. “They have their own tasks to attend to, own burdens to worry about. And you? I fear I have troubled you enough with my problems. I can work through this on my own…”

You ponder on his words with a small frown. Cassian was strong-minded and sharp. You knew he could handle his own problems, but that didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to. He was also kind, caring, and selfless—qualities you admired about him. But sometimes, he was so selfless that he left himself out of the love he had to give.

“Cas, no one loves you like I do. You’re no trouble to me at all. You’re always there for everyone so let me be here for you.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, taken aback by his sudden change in tone. “What do you mean? I’m serious. I’m your friend.” Your voice is tinged with concern and a hint of hurt.

“Friend.” Cassian repeats the word, his tone filled with an emotion you can’t quite place. 

“Yes,” you say, sensing his contemplation. He looks away, his jaw tightening and you can't help but shrink back into your seat. “Do you not want me to be?”

Cassian looks at you, those hazel eyes meeting yours. You catch the way his throat bobs. “It’s not that,” he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. Your heart skips a beat, his words hanging in the air between you. But then he shakes his head, as if to clear his thoughts.

“I love being your friend.” 

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing…” he trails off, the weight of his words making them feel inadequate. “It’s just, you can’t always be there for–”

“Nonsense,” you interrupt firmly. “I’ll always be there for you.”

For a fleeting moment, the vulnerability in his eyes is raw and unguarded, as if he’s been caught in the storm of his emotions. Then, he nods, a small, grateful smile tugging at his lips. 

But the lingering sadness in his gaze tugs at your heart, even more when he asks, “always?”

You smile warmly, reaching out to trace a finger over the center of your chest, just slightly to the left. “Cross my heart.”

a/n: This takes place sometime after you meet the IC. Sorry, I keep skipping around. I just got stuck on writing that part. So if y'all have any ideas lmk. You can find a sneak park here though.

also, if you've asked to be on the tag list and your name is below but you didn't get a notif, lmk! for some reason, some of the tags haven't been working. If you've asked to be on the tag list and don't see your name below, please let me know!

series masterlist

series taglist: @mrsjna , @shadowsingercassia, @acourtofbatboydreams, @rcarbo1, @mvidaaaa ,

@stuff-i-found-while-crying , @lipstickmarks, @yamisukehoe , @mp-littlebit , @thecraziestcrayon,

@talesofadragon, @ceoofyearning, @anuttellaa, @breadsticks2004, @chicken-fifi

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna

[httpsdrewstarkey]

hollywood || rafe cameron

authors note: been thinking about rafey a lot lately. kinda a short story? i did not know what to name this lol

warnings: smut

Y/N sat on the outside patio furnurtue of the house watching the party in full swing. The smell of chlorine coming from the pool as at the group of people jumped into the pool, the couple in front of her doing a line, but all she could think about was him. The alcohol slowly getting into her bloodstream, as she sat there sulking watching everyone, cursing at them for having a good time. She knew he’d show up any moment, she was thinking about him again, she couldnt help it. He was all she every thought about, when she showered, when she went to the store, when she sat down at family dinner with her parents and brother-

“Yo, Top!” 

“Shit,” she whispered to herself, her eyes closing for a second, hearing his voice behind her. She got up quickly, pushing past the coked out couple, making her way to the kitchen to get something stronger to drink. She took a deep breathe, the adrenaline pumping through her body from just the sound of his voice. She hadn't even seen him, but she knew, knew he would be here, walking around looking the way he did, his tanned skin glowing, his buzzed hair no longer buzzed, growing longer and messier by the day. She looked up, standing at the island hoping to get a better quick look at him. 

“Looking for someone?” She cursed silently to herself again feeling the goosebumps rise all over her body, turning around. 

“No,” she said, shaking her head slightly, making direct eye contact with him. The black hoodie on him sprawling out the word ‘Hollywood’ in white letters, fuck he looked good, and he knew it. The smirk plastered on his face, as his eyes trailed up and down to get a quick look at her. She leaned back slightly on the island, watching as his hand made their way to his lips, the gold ring shining as he watched her. She tried her best to stay calm, to not let him know that her heart was literally about to beat out of her chest.

He stepped closer to her, dropping his hand from his mouth, shaking his head, “Nah,” he whispered, not believing her, “I think you are though,” he said, his voice lowering. 

He stepped closer leaning up against the island beside her, crossing his arms, continuing to watch her closely, taking in the smell of her perfume. He quickly took the drink from her sitting it on the counter, as he stood in front of her, slightly leaning in, his hands on the island, caging her in. His mouth coming up to her ear as he spoke,

"Meet me upstairs, yeah?" He said licking his lips, his left hand coming up to give her a pat on the ass, as he turned around, leaving her there feeling like she was grasping for air.

As she climbed the stairs, her breathing staggered, her skin feeling hot, and her heart pounding harder with every step she took. She paused in front of the door, taking a deep breath to pull herself together.

And when she finally had the courage to open the door, there he was. Sitting on the edge of the bed, his legs spread wide with his arms crossed, his eyes going up and down her body. She stood there watching him as he rose from the bed, stepping closer to her.

His hand came up to cup her face gently to touch her, then both hands slowly going down her arms, tracing her skin lightly, as his eyes made their way to look at her lips and down to her chest. They finally settled firmly on her waist, pulling her closer. He dipped down slightly, his lips hovering over hers. Her body aching for him to close the space between their lips.

But he didn't. Instead, he paused, their lips almost touching, a smirk coming over his face, teasing her.

"Tell me who you were looking for downstairs," he whispered, keeping them as close as possible. Her stomach dropped.

"You.." She whispered, the words barely coming out. The smug smile on his face growing.

"Good girl."

His lips pressed against hers closing the space between them, his hand sliding up to tangle in her hair. She gasped softly, and he took this as an opportunity to deepen their kiss further, his tongue brushing against hers in a slow, almost punishing way. He kissed her like he was claiming her, pouring every ounce of the tension and desire that had ever simmered between them.

She tugged at his jeans, her fingers curling into the fabric with urgency, her soft moan spilling into his mouth as she tried to make her need for him clear. He pulled back, breaking the kiss, their lips red and swollen, a thin string of saliva briefly connecting them before it broke.

They moved in unison, their hands fumbling and eager to get rid of their clothes. She stepped forward to kiss him again, her hands on the base on his neck to pull him closer, as his hands made their way up and down her body to feel every inch of her. They stumbled their way to the bed, their kiss never breaking as she started to grind against him, a groan falling from his lips.

With a quick movement, his hands gripped her waist, flipping her over, her back pressed against the bed as he hovered over her. He leaned back, both is knees digging into the bed on the sides of her, as he slid his hands down her thighs, gripping and pulling her legs to rest on his shoulders.

He lines himself up to her soaking entrance, feeling the warmth and wetness coming from her. He watches as she jerks slightly, wanting to feel him more. He smiles, laughing at her for being so desperate.

"Jesus, you're a fucking mess, we've barely gotten started."

"Are you going to fuck me or what?"

That's all it took for him to slam his thick length in, she gasped, her mouth falling into an o shape, as he found a steady pace to pound in and out of her.

"Been thinking about pounding this tight little hole all week," he grunted out, trying to keep his pace steady, trying not to get distracted with the feeling of her wrapped so tightly around him.

His pace starts to pick up more, the sound of him sliding in and out echoing throughout the room as she whimpered underneath him, holding onto his biceps for support.

"Keep squeezing me like that, givin' me no choice but to fill this pretty pussy up."

He doesn't slow down, her whimpers only growing louder as he continues his brutal pace, a thin layer of sweat covering both their bodies as the bed creaks loudly under the impact. Her body clenches up feeling the orgasm getting closer as he continues to hit all the right spots.

"R-Rafe.. gonna make me cum," she says squirming, trying to push him back a little, the pressure being too much for her to handle

"Don't even think about it, gonna keep pounding this pussy until you pass out, got it?" He said, his own orgasm approaching.

“Wonder what Top would say if he walked in right now, seeing his best friend nail his little sisters shit in his bed?”

[earthtooz]

x : AUGUST 12TH :*+ﾟ

in which: reo sees his birthday marked down on your calender, and it fills him with the courage to win you back. or, he's hiding from the paparazzi... in your apartment, for whatever reason.

warnings: 2k wc, gn!reader, exes to lovers but they're very much in love, they kiss (eww), minor angst and minor embarrassment for reader but it's very cute, very much fluff and happy endings, professional soccer player reo, characters aged to be around 21+

a/n: I LOVE REO. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!

August 12th used to be one of the most important dates on your calender. Now it is one that brings forth bittersweet thoughts and memories whenever you think too hard on it, reminiscing a love that you had to let go long ago, despite how badly you wanted to keep him.

Mikage Reo’s name used to be stamped loud and proud beneath the date, with a heart that you hastily scribbled on due to the awkward angle of the page. His name is still on there, just without the heart, and merely in capitalised letters of your handwriting. 

You don’t know why you need to record it down because you remember it regardless, the set of numbers etched in the crevices of your mind. In fact, when August first hit and you were planning the month ahead, the act of recording down Reo’s birthday was a second-hand instinct, and when you did so without realising, a little pool of embarrassment and hurt developed in your chest. You didn’t even have the guts to cross it out either, despite it being almost seven months since you split.

Not a day has passed without you thinking about him, clearly.

But it was nothing to be embarrassed about because no one will ever think too much about it, especially not Reo, because he has no reason to ever step foot in your apartment ever again. If he ever saw it, you might just wither away.

So why on earth was he here now, sitting on one of your kitchen stools? The one that he used to always sit on when he came to see you when you were still dating with the reasoning that it ‘gave him a better view of you whilst you were scurrying around’.

Now you are ever aware of his gaze on you, entranced whilst fixing him a mere glass of water. 

Sliding it over to him on the marble countertop, he takes it with a grateful smile. “Thank you for allowing me to hide here, and I'm sorry about bringing you into all of this.”

“No problem, you got lucky that i have nothing better to do today,” you sigh, trying to tune out the clamours of the paparazzi that were residing outside of your apartment complex. Wandering over to the balcony window, you see that the swarm hasn’t decreased from when you last checked. 

Your poor, clueless neighbours. None of them deserved to be dragged into this. You wonder when it can all settle down.

“Reo?” You murmur. He glances over at you immediately, attentive purple eyes bright and wide in their curiosity. “Why did you come here out of all places?”

“You’re…” he falters. “You’re the first person I thought of, and I just so happened to be nearby.”

“Nearby? There’s nothing to do around my neighbourhood. What could you possibly have to do here?”

He looks away, shamefully staring down at his glass of water. “Errands. Stuff.” 

“Okay,” you trail off, not wanting to prod further. “So how are you thinking of getting out of this situation?”

“Does your apartment have another way out?”

“Unfortunately not.”

“Well unless you want me to jump from your window, then my only way out is to wait,” he says with a shrug and you pinch the bridge of your nose. The clamours of the crowd below can be heard even on your second-level home, and no matter how badly you wanted to return to your work, a certain ex of yours is only another reason for your headache. 

Since the breakup, you never thought Reo would ever be here again, however, fate seems to have pulled peculiar strings to bring him back to you- on his birthday too.

You won’t admit that this all feels a little set up. Perhaps it was the universe mocking you for not being able to stop loving him, despite it being you who forcibly let him go so he could fulfil his soccer ambitions in England.

The last time you saw him, he was crying at your doorstep, reluctant to go and to let you go. It is a sight that will always haunt you, especially when you then shut the door in his face and ultimately, ending your relationship.

Would you let him go again if you had the chance? No. Reo won’t ever know that, though.

You doubt he wants you back.

“Maybe you needed a better disguise if you wanted to escape the paparazzi,” you mutter.

Reo fiddles with his sunglasses. “Don’t scorn a man who just wanted to go out. I can’t even do anything normally nowadays anymore, not even in Japan.”

“Well, yeah, you’re kind of a big shot, Mr-Signed-With-Manshine-City,” you huff. "It's like high school and your fangirls all over again."

“You remember my team?”

“Why wouldn’t I? It's all anyone talks about, especially after the World Cup.” 

“And you listened?” 

“Of course I did,” you confess, no louder than a whisper. “I’m happy for you, Reo. You're really amazing.”

Something about your sentimental statement makes the purple-haired frown, looking away as an obligatory ‘thank you’ slips from his lips.

There’s a quip resting on the tip of your tongue about it being his birthday, but it slides back down your throat with the ease of paper, cutting you in the process. 

“Can I request something from you?” You question.

“Anything," the athlete looks over at you with hopeful eyes.

“Since you’re using my house to hide in, can I have your Netflix password so we can watch a movie or something?” You murmur, “something’s telling me that you’ll be here for a while.”

He laughs, bright and exuberant and boyish that it makes your yearning expand tenfold. “Sure, as long as I get to pick what we watch.”

Your heartstrings soften a little, “fine. I have popcorn somewhere so let me get that out.”

It only takes one movie for the clamour outside to disappear. You’re sure that your neighbours called the police at some point too given then flash of red and blue that illuminated onto your walls, but there was little conflict, and eventually, the quiet returned. You should be grateful for it, really, because your headache can calm and you can get back to doing your work, but it also means that this is the end of yours and Reo's paths. He’ll leave your apartment, and then Japan, and then your life will return to the seven month-long limbo that it was without him, with possibly no due date this time.

He stays around until the end of the movie, however, and when it’s over, he stands with a huff, hands on his knees to help push him up. If you weren't too focused on your dread, you'd have noticed the subtle reluctance clinging to him.

“I ‘ought to be going now, I’ve been in your hair long enough,” sighs the soccer player. “Thank you for allowing me over.”

“It wasn’t a problem,” you mutter. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“Likewise. you lo-” Reo’s eyes widen before he shuts his mouth, visibly shaking the sentence away as you’re filled with an invasive sense of curiosity. You want to pry his words out of his mouth, but you don’t think that’s appropriate for your current relationship. “I’ll see you sometime.” 

“Yeah. I’ll be here.”

He nods. During the time of your conversation, the two of you had made it to your kitchen and to your horror, Reo stops right before your calender. He glances at it and has to do a double-take, making sure that his eyes hadn’t failed him.

How will you recover from this one?

Reo turns to you, eyes and smile soft and so so warm. “You still have my birthday marked down.”

“Oh. You’re right!” You laugh awkwardly. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you. I’m honoured you remember.”

“Oh my goodness, please shut up,” you hide your face with one hand and Reo laughs harder.

“Do you remember how old I’m turning as well?”

“We’re the same age! Of course I'd remember-”

“-do you have a present for me? You know I love presents.”

“Go buy your own damn presents, you multimillionaire.”

He laughs harder and you almost want to chase him out of your house. “But I like it when they’re from other people!” 

“I don’t have a gift for you, Reo, now can you please shut up?”

“If you don’t have a present then can I ask you for one thing?”

“What is it?”

“A date. Tomorrow, at your favourite place downtown.”

The light, cheery environment dims and you find your breath getting lodged in your throat. “Reo… I- we, we shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” He asks, “do you still love me?”

“I have your stupid birthday on my calender and no one else’s, not even mine, so yes I do still love you.” 

He grabs your hands and you feel weak in the knees, clasping onto the warmth you had grown so familiar with. “Then another chance, please, that’s all I ask for.” 

“I let you go for your sake, you shouldn’t have someone like me dragging you back whilst you’re in England. Didn't you see how successful you were without me?” You mutter, thinking back to the night that you let him go, recalling all the pain you felt. 

And how you might relive it again tonight.

“Dragging me back?” he parrots, voice slightly strained. “I thought about you the entire time I was abroad, every training session, every time I scored a goal, I thought about doing it all for you. It might have hurt me to not have you there with me, but it killed me to know that I didn’t have you at all.” 

Reo rests his forehead against yours and you close your eyes, basking in the intimacy that you never thought you could ever experience again with him. “And it killed me even more to know that you wouldn’t be waiting there for me when I came home. You know who was there instead? Stupid Zantetsu, and a few high school friends, but not you.”

“I love Zantetsu though, we get coffee together all the time,” you comment quietly. “He told me that he was going to pick you up.”

“And I can’t believe you didn’t even think of going with him.”

“Exes don’t go to the airport to pick each other up.”

“So be my lover again,” pleads Reo. “Be mine again, be here for me every time I return to Japan.”

“Is it what you want?"

“A thousand times yes.”

You sigh through your nose, memorising the feeling of his forehead against yours one last time before parting from him. “Then pick me up tomorrow, at half past six, and we can go downtown.” 

His smile could rival that of a thousand suns, and just seeing it is enough to cure your heart.

“Okay,” he nods, a dreamy sort of look settling in the purple hues of Reo’s gaze. “Okay! I'll be here, without paparazzi this time, and no one will disrupt our date, I'll make sure of it.”

“One more thing before you leave. Stay here!” You command before scurrying through your house and into the study to retrieve a pen. Uncapping it, you then scribble a little heart on the calender, right next to Mikage Reo’s name.

You don’t miss the look of pure elation on his face.

“Call me. My number hasn’t changed.”

“Okay, I will, I will. Watch out for it.”

“Then I look forward to it.”

“Now I really don’t want to leave,” he whines, gently pressing you against the wall with his hands holding onto your shoulders. “It wouldn’t be gentlemanly of me to ask to stay the night, would it?”

“No, but, I think we’re beyond your awkward gentleman-liness.”

“Then, I have permission to do this, right?”

He presses his mouth to yours, hot and needy, you wonder if he’s trying to swallow you whole so you really can’t ever leave again. 

“Happy Birthday, Reo,” you murmur against him.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[lunaekalenda]

The Heir's Favorite

warnings for the series: smut (only part two), mid violence (generally not explicit)

warnings for this chapter: referred violence. mentions of decapitation (non explicit), suggestive, kinda manipulation from sylus? i swear the fluff comes on the next

part one - part two - part three

You keep your head low, eyes fixed on the luxurious floor, decorated with golden flowers and red jewels. All this luxury, the velvety curtains the guards made to a side for you to enter, the shining of a golden vase in a near rich wood table, the scent of the most aromatic vanilla, makes you dizzy. You can't hear steps, you can't hear nothing, as if the whole chamber became silent to make your heartbeat even more noticeable. The guards that brought you here less than half an hour ago are also silent, as they were while you spent time on the Harem with the rest of the concubines. After dressing up, a strong voice called you, your name, out of all the concubines. All the chats from the room became silence, as all the concubines looked directly at you. You were called. You were summoned. You.

It's well known it's been almost a year since anyone was called. Sylus - the Imperial Prince, the Crow, the Heir. - has been on his title since the coronation of his own cousin, the actual Emperor, the one that started the Harem you got into by chance. And, since that last night the Emperor called a couple of you, you've been living quietly. Never stressed over the fact he would call you, after all, not even the Emperor spent a night with you once. You don't think it'll be different with the Heir.

Maybe you're too shy, too laid back, too silent. Maybe your hair is not the length he likes, or your hips the size of his hands. Maybe he's not particularly interested in you. But then, it happened, and now, here you are, kneeling on the cold floor of the palace, in front of the Heir's throne, waiting for him. Your heart beats fast, faster than ever before, as you hear the metallic sound of the blades against the floor. Quiet, serene steps approach you from behind.

"For some reason, my dear cousin loved to keep track of every single concubine he ever had." the voice is deep, harsh, strong. It sounds behind you, but also in front. It's so powerful it seems to be everywhere. "Yet your name was never mentioned. Not even once." the steps sound dangerously close to your head. "I found it, though. Wrote on rough letters, on a paper hidden between the rest. You were the last to enter the Harem, and the only words of my cousin were that your shyness kills your beauty." The crack on wood indicates you he is now sitting on his throne. "If that so, lift up your head."

You feel your palms sweaty against your dress, and your cheeks feel hot when you lift your head up slowly, to meet the most attractive man you've ever seen. His red eyes are intense, fixed on you, and you feel like he can read every thought passing through your mind. His angles are sharp, and his white hair falls elegantly on his forehead. He tilts his head, giving you a side smile. "Indeed, very beautiful." he murmurs, in low voice. His words make your face heat up, and his brow raises slowly, amused by your reaction. Your eyes move from his face back to the floor, before searching the courage to speak.

"Thank you, Your Highness." your voice trembles as you speak. His steps are heard again, walking around you. You fear he'll kick you from the Harem. It's not the life you've dreamt of, that's true, but you can eat hot and sleep warm.

His steps stop suddenly behind you, before you hear the rushed ones of the guards, who leave and close the big ornamented doors of the main entrance. Now you're alone. You wait, patiently, but with your heart racing against your chest. After what seem ages, he speaks.

"Do you fear me?" he asks, voice even lower. He's still behind you, and you're still too nervous to take your gaze up. But, do you really fear him? Until now, he has only been a shadow around the Imperial Palace. Nothing more than a man surrounded by guards, nothing more than a name. But, still, your life always depended on him. Your stance at the Harem, your food, your bed, your body. Everything you are, everything you have, belongs to him. The mere thought of making him angry terrifies you. You've seen enough swords beheading fellow Harem members to risk being next. You take air.

"I do, your Highness." you confess. He walks again, until you're able to see the tip of his shoes in front of you, before he kneels. His hand takes your head, softly, so sweetly, it doesn't match with him, with his fierceness, his hardness. Your eyes find his, and he seems to freeze, his eyes turning softer for a second, before he raises a brow. Anything you saw on his expression is suddenly gone.

"Good. Fear assures loyalty." His thumb caresses your cheek, dangerously close to your lips, before he talks again. "You're interesting." his eyes scan your face, your eyes, your lips. They keep going down, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. He moistens his lips with his tongue, quietly, and all the blood rushes to your cheeks. Oh, goddess. He chuckles. "Something happened? Your face became hot to my touch." His palm leaves your cheek, but his fingers dance on your skin, sweetly, softly, caressing from the corner of your lips down to your neck. "My cousin might have found you too shy to enjoy." he whispers. His chest rises when he takes air, getting dangerously close to you, with your knees between his. "But, I'm not him."

You understand what he implied with that sentence. Will you be called as the rest of the Harem is? Will he summon you to his chambers from time to time? Will you - maybe - have to join another Harem member?

You want to cry. Why? You've been safe all this years, between the shadows of the Harem, unnoticed, untouched. Why does he have to put his eye on you?

"Although, there's something no one in the Harem can do, and I'm sure you'll think about it. Something no one can offer." He stands up. He asks you to do the same with a movement of his fingers, more an order than a request. He walks towards his throne with fluid motion, where he sits, hand resting on his temple. You stand in front of him, looking down at your own shoes, unable to look at him. The room is too silent, and you feel too little between the big dragon pillars and the enormous seat he's occupying. "Promise me loyalty." his question makes you look up violently, your eyes colliding with his. His posture on the throne - relaxed, stretched. - makes him even bigger. "Promise me loyalty as your Prince, and I'll do so as my concubine." your face shocks with his words. He moves his hand, asking you to get closer to the throne. The open-mouthed jade dragon on top of it welcomes you when you arrive. Less than a step away from him. His eyes shine with something dangerous. "Move from the Harem to this palace. I'll make sure you'll have everything you need. Food, baths, a bed." All his promises are sweetening your ears. "Offer me your loyalty and I can make you my queen." You stand there, frozen, confused. One answer he doesn't like, and your head will be the price to pay for your mistakes. Is he offering? Is he demanding? You find yourself nodding out of fear, although, the promise of a better life draws you to say yes.

"Say it." are his only words.

"Yes, your Highness. I offer my loyalty, myself and my body." You try to sound convincing, and he smiles.

"Interesting. I will keep my part of the promise. I expect the same from your side." He reclines back into his throne, still looking directly at you. "You may leave now. Gather your things on the Harem and I'll send two guards to bring you to your new place." With a quick nod, you leave the throne room as fast as you can.

When you arrive to the Harem, you feel the change in the air. They're no longer workmates, they're enemies. Their hateful gazes and the whispers you can hear while taking your things indicate so. You ignore all of them, quickly putting all your things in a tiny chest, just in time for the guards to pick you up. Walking between the rest of the Harem with your belongings, you feel targeted. You're not another concubine; you've been chosen personally by the Heir. You follow them at a normal distance, your room silent when you arrive, way too good for only you. "The Heir awaits you for a nocturne game of Mahjong. New clothes are on the bed. Don't be late, he doesn't like to wait."

The guards leave you in the silence of your new room, as you scan the bed. Between the new clothes - all of them of the highest quality." you find yourself attracted to a red gown, the color of blood. You change into that and walk in the labyrinthine corridors before standing in front of the golden gates of his chambers. Catching your breath, you knock. His voice sounds deep from inside.

"Enter."

And your destiny is sealed while you push the golden dragon knob, entering the Heir's room.

taglist: @i-am-silver @strawbunnydrop22 @princess-harvey @houmi

[heartfullofleeches]

Just say your Carnis and puppy!reader post, and my head immediately went to cattle dog!reader or emotional support puppy!reader would be an amazing pair for Carnis. Allow me to ramble a bit about emotional support puppy!reader for a bit-

disclaimer! I do not have an emotional support dog...I've got emotional support guinea pigs -kinda- so take my thoughts with a tablespoon of salt. ^^;

Anyways-!

- Emotional support puppy!reader who was the one who started the dynamic between the two without really realizing that was what they were doing. They'd catch Carnis in the middle of a panic attack or a trauma episode, and their first thought is to sit down beside him. Slowly inching closer and closer until they're sitting shoulder to shoulder with them. Turning their (reader's) head slightly towards him so they can keep an eye on his heart rate and anxiety levels.

- Emotional support puppy!reader who starts following Carnis around where they go, always within a quick few steps away from them. So that any time Carnis starts to seem like they're slipping into a nasty unfun headspace, Emotional support puppy!Reader can be there to gently guide them down to a sitting position. (Maybe if Carnis would be comfortable with it, Emotional support puppy!Reader can do some compression therapy by laying on top of the big softie. Especially if Emotional support puppy!Read is also Himbo/beefy puppy!Reader. So it's like a weighted blanket -and Carnis gets a face full of puppy!Reader's chest. It's warm.)

- Carnis who becomes a bit dependent on Emotional support puppy!Reader. Gaining separation anxiety, freaking out and pushing themselves into a panic attack if Reader isn't an arms length away. Which only makes Reader feel all that more like they've gotta be there for their friend :(.

- Carnis who treats Emotional support puppy!Reader more like an emotional support stuffy a child might carry around with them 24/7

- (Emotional support puppy!Reader who -as a joke- gets a collar or like vest that says 'Emotional Support Animal' with Carnis' name under the words. Both writing out in big letters)

Just emotional support puppy!Reader and Carnis brain rot.

I saw beefy and himbo used to describe Reader, and my soul ascended to the heavens- You were already cooking with this, but a sweet, himbo puppy who makes it their duty to keep Carnis in a stable mind is gold. Carnis had dealt with orderlies pinning them down whenever they lashed out in the lab- Those rough, cruel hands replaced by the passive weight and fluff of a kind puppy would do wonders for Carnis, and put them out like a light.

Besides their embrace, nothing soothes Carnis quicker than Puppy yapping about whatever topic their brain comes up with- It gives them something else to focus on than what's dragging them down, and Puppy has never painted Carnis repeating words and phrases they say in a negative light, which the cow values more than anything.

Carnis dependency gets so bad somedays they'll have a full blown melt down if Puppy makes the harmless mistake of switch over to another isle in the grocery store. If Carnis doesn't have them in his immediate line of sight, who knows what might happen? Puppy gifting Carnis an article of clothing ripe with their scent like a shirt or jacket helps him work up the courage to distance themselves from Puppy for a while... If they didn't get too caught sniffing it all the time.

-

Carnis: Y/n a-asked me to pick up some tomatoes for dinner. They gave.. me their sweater because they trusted me.... Y/n's sweater.... Puppy's sweater... Smells nice. Soft too.. L-like them... Sleepy..

Puppy Reader: Haha- We'll work on this later, let's just go together, like always!

-

Puppy Reader: So, there's this donut shop that has huuuge donut display on their roof, and everytime I pass it I wonder how much of it I could eat before I got sick if it were real... Sorry- This probably isn't helping much, wanna switch over to counting?

Carnis: N...no... This...is better.

[mooniiify]

how do you think diluc/wrio would confess to a traveller!reader? I feel like it would take them SO LONG to even consider doing it because you're almost always leaving to go somewhere, I also feel like both would be guilty of suddenly having favours needed or fascinating conversational topics as soon as you go to leave 😭

the first time diluc met you, he was intrigued. a traveller belonging to no nation, accompanied by a strange flying fairy? you didn’t need more to pique his interest. with time, however, diluc found himself drawn to your sense of duty, of how brave you were and, honestly, the fact that you were quite good looking. he’d wanted to spend more time with you initially, but once he found out you would be leaving to embark on your journey to the next nation on your list, he thought his growing feelings were pointless, so he was quick to suppress them.

when you showed up for windblume, the news had gotten to him through drunken gossip. he’d switched shifts with charles and decided to go greet you, see how you’re doing, ask about your adventures. he thought in the time apart, his feelings had dwindled, only for them to blossom like a flower in spring the moment his eyes fell on you.

you caught up, told him about liyue and inazuma and what you’d done to help, much like you had with mondstadt, leaving him with only a growing ache in his heart. he didn’t want you to go again, but he knew how important your sibling was to you. he couldn’t hold you back.

when you’d leave again, he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about you. then one day he received a letter out of nowhere, inside a few papers filled with your adventures and how you were doing, telling him you would be visiting again soon. diluc felt his heartbeat quicken, anxious to see you.

he’d thought about it a lot by the time you’d came back to mondstadt. it was you who sought him out first, finding him at the tavern as usual. the moment he saw you, diluc realized now was the time to ask.

when you were taking a walk towards the dawn winery that night, alone for once as paimon had stayed behind in mondstadt with amber, diluc finally looked at you, realizing he doesn’t enjoy spending that much time away from you. that he wanted to know you better and to be by your side, to help you for your ultimate mission.

that was when he finally gathered the courage to speak. he asked if you would allow him to accompany you on your journey, that he can have things arranged so he can leave the next day if he had to. he himself had embarked on a similar journey through the nations just a few years ago, there was no better partner than him. his sudden question caught you off guard, making you ask where this was coming from.

that was when diluc finally confessed, expressing the feelings he’s had over the past couple of months and that he believed there was no reason to keep it to himself anymore, that he didn’t want to because it was starting to physically affect him. he’d told you that you didn’t need to accept his feelings, but he had to try.

you returned his feelings, of course you did, but when you pulled him in, you put two hands on his cheeks, telling him you couldn’t let him leave his whole life behind, that he was the protector of mondstadt and he had the wine industry to manage, and you couldn’t just pull him away from that, as much as you wished he could join you.

diluc had kissed you then, making you promise that you would at least come back home to mondstadt more often and that you would write to him as much as you can so he can make sure you’re okay, to which you, of course, oblige before you kissed him again, making diluc feel like he was ascending to celestia.

wriothesley on the other hand was attracted to you the moment you were sent to the fortress of meropede. of course he knew your sentence would be short, so there was no point to attach himself to you, even if you did decide to linger in fontaine. he rarely left the fortress, so unless you decided to stay in the prison for longer, which he wouldn’t let you do in the first place, there was no point in allowing his feelings to grow.

alas, his attempt to suppress them is futile because the closer the end of your sentence came, the more he realized he liked you. he liked talking to you about your adventures, about the outside world he never really got to see, and about your sibling over a nice cup of tea. he’d started looking forward to these brief daily meetings.

when you left and the fontaine crisis had been averted, he realized he’d let himself loose and fucked himself over for not burying his feelings for you deeper. he tried to go on with his life, as he should, but he was grumpier, he no longer had anything to really look forward to throughout the day.

he would sometimes sit in his office, his tea cup in his hand as he watched the chair where you used to sit in, sometimes even imagining you were right across from him. he’d started to blame his delusions on all the work and stress, but deep down, he knew the real reason and he was getting tired of feeling that way.

neuvillette had called him over to talk about work once, so he embarked on his journey out of the fortress. when he got to neuvillette’s office, he found you sitting there with paimon, the three of you looking back at him. his breath hitched when he made eye contact with you, but he was quick to compose himself, asking him what’s going on. neuvillette only said that the traveller had come to visit fontaine and that it would be nice for wriothesley to join them for a cup of tea as well, giving him a knowing look.

after the tea with neuvillette, the iudex had mentioned to paimon about some new sweets one of the melusines had prepared for him, offering to let her try them out. paimon was ecstatic, ditching you for the food she oh-so loved. you were left alone with wriothesley in neuvillette’s office, feeling rather awkward.

you’re the one to speak first, asking wriothesley if everything in the fortress is in order. he says yes, then asks you about your own journey and how far you were with it. he watches you as you passionately explain about your recent endeavor in natlan, not realizing the small smile that had found its way on his usually stoic face.

you’d stopped talking when you’d noticed, pointing out the smile. wriothesley admits he’s missed having you around as you were the inmate that had been the most fun in his career, to which you could only laugh. he wants to tell you then that he would want nothing more than to keep on making you laugh and be by your side, but he knows he can’t. not when he’s bound to the fortress, not when he couldn’t leave his duties behind and selfishly indulge in his desire to be with you.

he couldn’t, no. so he stayed silent despite the wishes of his heart, watching once again as you left to your hotel, slipping right past his fingers.

every time something small happens from then on, he wishes you would be there so he could tell you about it, or you two would talk into the late hours of the night or spend time together or just anything. wriothesley needed you and he felt like if he didn’t express his feelings, he might just explode.

so he wrote down his feelings on a letter, letting everything he needed out, ending up with multiple double-sided pages. his thoughts were jumbled up and it didn’t make sense, but it didn’t matter, because he wasn’t going to send it.

that was, at least, until sigewinne found it, read it and decided to send it off to you. wriothesley was none the wiser until you suddenly showed up at the door of his office, having sent paimon off to sigewinne, clutching the papers. he almost pales at the sight.

you two talk. truthfully, if you were to commit, your relationship would be hard regardless if you were a traveller or a citizen of fontain. both of you understood that. but wriothesley claimed he didn’t care, that as long as he knew you were his and he was yours, he could do the long distance, because he had never felt that way before and, truthfully, couldn’t see himself with anyone but you.

after a mature talk and a heated make out session, wriothesley had become the happiest occupant of the fortress of meropede.

thank you so much for the request!

[chuunai]

Can we get Dazai, Chuya and Fyodor with scenario 19 and prompt 13? (drabbles)

hey did you know I LOVE Chuuya Nakahara?

✧˚ · . drunken confessions - dazai osamu, nakahara chuuya, fyodor dostoevsky

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, SFW. also clingy insecure chuuya. fyodor also kinda takes advantage of you mentally/emotionally while drunk

Dazai Osamu

He somewhat planned it all out. The invitation sent to you to watch movies with him at his dorm, right next to yours. The drinks, too. Cheap cans of beer and sake that are lazily passed to you. The futon too that you two are situated on is more neat and tidy than usual with no forgotten crab legs or alcohol stains in sight. It’d be easier to confess if he had liquid courage, right? Dazai didn’t want to fuck it all up.

When he confesses this way, it’s because he can’t think of anything better. Dinner at a restaurant is nice and dandy, sure, but it’s not quite intimate enough. A letter doesn’t express the tone of how serious he is with his love for you. You’ve been with him since his days in the Mafia. You saw him at his worst, and so he wishes to give you the best.

So when you’re both slightly tipsy and giggly at the sights on the TV, he tugged at your clothes and brought you in closer, pretending to shiver and whine about the cold. Unsurprisingly, you had snuggled into him back—such an affectionate drunkard. What Dazai did next was probably purely driven by intoxication and the need to confess. Jokingly (not really), he asked if you could be with him every night to warm him up just like you did already with his heart.

Dazai nearly had a heart attack when you took so long to ultimately respond with a yes. He doesn’t waste time, already carefully maneuvering you on top of him as a pretty body pillow while he sleepily mumbled that he loved his pillow. Loves you. Sure, it was all planned out, but it worked. He’d keep you forever by his side.

Nakahara Chuuya

It’s such a total fucking accident. The whole thing was never intended to happen when Chuuya took you out for a drink after a successful mission. You were his subordinate—albeit a close one of his—and it’d be wrong to act on his feelings for you. Death is a common and accepted daily occurrence of the Port Mafia, and he doesn’t want to accidentally get you hurt or even killed because you were his partner. Even if it hurts, he doesn’t want to confess. For your safety.

Although two glasses of wine later and a guy hitting on you stirs jealousy in his mind, and the fact that you seem uncomfortable increases it by tenfold. He didn’t hesitate to walk over with a thin smile on his face, wrapping an arm around your waist and cooing in your ear that he missed his baby and if you could please dance with him—your fake boyfriend. That’s how he ended up dancing with you to the beat of the music. His eyes were glued to your lips, admiring the shape as he wished they’d cover his body in rouge lipstick.

But Chuuya Nakahara lost everyone he ever cared about. Kouyou was still here, but he doubted the world would let her stay by his side for long. The drunken urge to kiss you was pushed back by the logical side of his mind, screaming out the fact that he’d be a creep if he did that. And he didn’t want you to think he was a sleazy guy. You were his muse from afar, and he wouldn’t dare do anything to hurt you.

So instead the wine in his veins opts to merely drop his head onto your shoulder and hesitantly intertwine his fingers with you. Next? He mumbles in your neck that he loves you. Loves you to the point where he’d kill everyone in the world if they dared to cross you—his heart. All he wanted was your heart, your undying love. But at the end of the day, you’re too good for him. He’s not even human, after all.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

He wasn’t drunk whatsoever and capitalized on your inebriation. Fyodor was a smart man, able to read moves of his opponents and acquaintances alike. This included you, of course. He knew absolutely everything about his little mouse, from your family to your darkest secrets. It was no surprise that he discovered your deep admiration of him as well.

What was supposed to be a meeting between the two of you discussing the DoA’s plans, instead ended up into him gently coaxing you to sip at the wine he had given you. He didn’t drink himself—a man as great as himself would not taint his mind with such a poison—but merely watched as your cheeks flushed with the telltale sign of tipsiness. The scenario would’ve been baffling for any outsider. Two terrorists in a room that both have a crush on each other. How utterly perplexing and unsettling!

Once he was certain you were to be easily manipulated to whatever he wanted, he began asking more personal questions and other matters. Coyly asking if you needed to visit a doctor with how red your face was whenever you two spoke. Or when he began to poke fun at your habit of stammering when he’d appear behind you and give your head that small condescending tap. Poor, poor you who didn’t stand a chance. You were so easy to crack. The seed at the middle of it all was your confession and the way he invited you onto his lap and began stroking your hair like one might do with a beloved pet.

While he’s not entirely sure what love truly is other than the definition, Fyodor felt a deep sense of affection and responsibility for you. Nearly every ruler in history had a beloved at their side to witness the fruits of their goals, so naturally he should as well. It wasn’t like you’d leave either. He’d make sure of it and keep you with him forever until he decided to end it.

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx

[watchmegetobsessed]

LOVE AND TOUR

A/N: im so excited to post this fic bc *drum roll* it's a collab with @harrysfolklore !! the post tour depression is still kicking our butts so we decided to team up for a story that features LOT! hope you guys will like it and as always, make sure to head over to her blog to check out her fic that features all social media posts for this story!

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

SUMMARY: Y/N and Harry were once friends, but his career pulled them apart. Then in 2019 Harry decides to invite her to ONO London and so their story begins or more like continues.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

2010

The handmade banner hanging over the white board in the classroom is crooked and two balloons have popped already. The sign reads ‘Good luck, Harry!’ and every letter is a different color. The desks and chairs were pushed to the side to make room in the middle and the teacher’s desk is full of snacks and drinks the kids brought in for the little impromptu party the class decided to throw before Harry’s big day.

He is going to his big X Factor audition this weekend and though he is not convinced he will make it, everyone in school is rooting for him. If anyone deserves the success it’s Harry, the goofy, kind boy who makes everyone smile and always helps whenever he can.

The soon-to-be rockstar is mingling with his friends and classmates, music is playing in the background and the chatting is nonstop. Everyone keeps asking Harry if he’s nervous or ready or which judge he is afraid of the most. He tries his best to talk to everyone and be everywhere, though he keeps an eye on one specific girl.

Y/N has been staying in the back for most of the time, sipping on some soda, listening to her friend as he enjoys the spotlight. She’s been friends with Y/N for quite some time, they live just a street away from each other, they often bike to school together and whenever one of them is sick the other one can be expected to show up at their house with the homework.

Good friends. That’s what they are. But deep down, Y/N is definitely feeling more than just friendship towards the curly haired boy who is now set to step his foot on the road to fame.

When the party is over and everyone has headed home already, Harry and Y/N are the last ones to walk out of the school’s building.

“So, be honest, are you nervous?” she asks as they are walking home , pushing their bikes this time. Harry said he hurt his ankle at PE today so he better not get on the bike, but in reality… he is just trying to spend more time with Y/N. 

“Kind of, yeah,” he admits with a chuckle.

“I’m sure you will crush it.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” she smiles at him and his heart skips a beat. 

Harry has been trying to work up his courage to ask Y/N out since probably the sixth grade, but he just never got to the point. Now he tells himself that if he gets into X Factor she will see him in a different light and that’s when he should ask her out, but little does he know he doesn’t need to be in a talent show to have her like him enough to want him.

Reaching her house she wishes him good luck and even hugs him before he waves goodbye and continues his way home. Y/N stands by their front door and watches him get farther away, hoping that whatever happens that weekend won’t change their friendship.

2013

The tour bus is quiet, everyone is asleep. Everyone, except Harry. 

Lying in his bunk bed, his face is illuminated by his phone as he aimlessly scrolls on his social media apps, checking out posts by fans, reading news, just killing time. He knew he shouldn’t have had a nap earlier, because now it will be way too late by the time he can fall asleep and won’t be rested enough when they arrive in the next city. 

He opens up Instagram and goes through his feed, he posts a picture he took of the crowd at the show the other day and then watches the likes flood in like crazy. 

Going back to his feed he goes through his friends’ posts, it’s just the usual, parties, vacations, hanging out, everyone seems to be living their life even though Harry often feels like time has stopped since he’s gotten on the road. 

He can feel himself growing sleepier and he is just about to put his phone down when he comes across a post that wakes him up.

Y/N is not one to post often, she is not like most girls he knows who want to share every and any moment of their life. Last time she uploaded something was probably weeks ago. This time she was snapped in her graduation gown, her hair flowing in the movement flawlessly and he recognizes her parents’ home in the background. It totally slipped Harry’s mind that in a life he left behind graduation was happening these days. 

He scrolls down to the caption and all it says is “Soon” and then a crown emoji. It’s enough for him to know she’s going to King’s College London, that’s what she always dreamed about and it seems like she hasn’t changed her mind.

Before he could think about it, he double taps on the picture liking it, completely oblivious to how fans can see his activity and they instantly start guessing about who the girl is whose graduation photo was liked by Harry Styles.

2014

The screaming intensifies wherever Harry goes on the stage, he is jumping and shaking his long hair to the music while his bandmates are singing ‘Steal My Girl’ and the girls are going crazy, the energies are insane, Harry loves performing, this is truly his element. 

He’s been on the road for what feels like forever and if you asked him what day it was, he would have no idea. It’s a miracle he knows which city he is currently in.

Walking to the side of the stage he stops for a moment right before the bridge that’s his part. He lifts his mic to his lips and starts singing when the music dies down right before his lines.

“She knows, she knows, that I never let her down before…”

His voice fills up the stadium, thousands are singing together with him and he runs his gaze over the sea of people in front of him. He sees so many faces, some are even familiar, Harry tends to remember fans he sees over and over again at their concerts, but most of them are new. The song carries on and the boys start singing along with him, Harry is about to move back to the middle of the stage, but then he sees her.

He sees Y/N.

Or so he thinks. It’s hard to tell, because it’s dark and she is so far away from the stage, it could be just someone who resembles her, but something in his gut tells him it’s her. 

He does a double take, losing the familiar face for a moment but then he finds her again and a shiver runs down his spine. He hasn’t seen her in years, life has been simply way too hectic to keep in touch, last time he met her was probably in 2012 when he went home for Christmas, they ran into each other in town and promised to talk soon because they were both kind of in a hurry, but they never followed up with it. Y/N went to college, Harry’s career was skyrocketing, it was impossible to stay as close as they were before X Factor and Harry always regretted not trying harder, because now he has no idea what’s happening in her life. 

Niall walks up to him and pats him on the back and Harry’s focus shifts to his friend for just a moment, but it’s enough to not find her again when he looks back at the audience. Did she duck down? Walk out when she realized he was looking? Or did he just entirely imagine seeing her and it was just a mirage? 

He can’t get her out of his head for the rest of the show and he finds himself looking for her over and over again, but he doesn’t see her again and his consciousness starts to convince him she wasn’t even there. 

It was just a cruel trick his own mind played on him. 

2019

Why does he feel like he is sending out an invitation to the Queen of England? Why is he so nervous to hit send on an email? This is nothing Earth shattering, nothing will happen if he sends it out and life will go on even if she never replies.

One Night Only is set to happen in a few weeks and Harry is now sending out his invitations to his friends and family, he wants everyone who matters to be there on such a big night. Making the list was no hard task, but then he thought of inviting Y/N as well even though they haven’t talked in so long.

The other night, Harry found himself stalking her Instagram which he is still following. She has been posting once or twice a month, tiny glimpses into her life that doesn’t include Harry anymore.

But he wants to change that.

“Fuck it,” he mumbles under his breath and then adds her to the list of people who will get the invitation and then he just hits send and it’s officially out there. 

Harry is not necessarily one to get overly obsessive about something, but the next few days he finds himself checking his inbox every hour, scrolling through the new emails, looking for one particular address to show up, but he has to come to the conclusion every time that Y/N hasn’t answered. 

Days go by, Harry’s enthusiasm fades and by the end of the week he is convinced she won’t be there and soon he doesn’t even have time to think about it. 

One Night Only arrives to London in december. The venue fills up with excited and devoted fans, but no one is more nervous about tonight than Harry. 

He is ready, his band is ready, everything is perfectly in place, but he knows he won’t feel fully calm until he is on stage, performing to the people who gave him this amazing life. 

It all goes as planned, Fine Line is finally officially out there (it has been for about a week if we are being exact) and Harry couldn’t be happier. Coming off the stage he is still high on adrenaline, taking all the congratulations the crew and guests are giving him relentlessly. His smile is so wide, it’s starting to hurt his face, but it’s a pain he could happily deal with for the rest of his life.

He hugs his mum and sister, all his old friends, they do a group hug with the band and he is sure he has greeted everyone by now, but then he spots one specific figure in the back of the room.

At first he thinks he is just imagining it. That his mind is playing the same trick on him it did a few years ago when he thought he saw Y/N at one of their concerts. Blinking a couple of times he is ready to watch her disappear like a ghost, but as the seconds go by he realizes that she is truly there.

Y/N is standing across the room with a nervous smile, looking all grown up and most importantly fucking beautiful. Even though Harry has seen plenty of pictures of her from recent times, it’s still a shock to have her stand in the same room as him. 

His body moves before his brain could process it. His feet start to carry him towards her and before he even realizes he is running and when he finally reaches her he wraps her in his arms, twirling her around, making both of them laugh.

“You’re here!” he breathes out, still hugging her even when he has put her down.

“I am, you invited me!” she chuckles and they finally lean back enough to look at each other. 

“I know, but… you never replied, I didn’t think you’d come and… You are actually here,” he repeats.

“Sorry I didn’t reply, I wasn’t sure until the very last minute if I would come,” she admits nervously.

Harry’s invitation was all she could think about since the morning she got the email. It was more than unexpected, for a moment she even thought it was just some kind of prank, but it came from Harry's old email address, so she had to believe that it was genuine. She hesitated until probably a few days ago when she woke up one day and just knew that she had to be here tonight. 

“It’s okay,” he smiles at her softly, taking in her every feature. The girl he knew is still there, but she changed a lot, she looks so much more mature and her features have definitely gotten a lot more feminine. 

She looks gorgeous. 

Suddenly it all comes down on him clashing, all the questions, the feelings, he wants to know everything, but he fears they don’t have enough time.

“How long are you staying?” he then asks.

“I took a couple of days off, I’m staying for three more days.”

He sighs in relief. 

“Come on,” he smiles, his hand taking hers. “I want to know everything.”

“Everything?” she chuckles, ignoring the tingles wherever his hand is touching hers.

“Harry, don’t assault the poor girl! She almost didn’t come!” Gemma chimes in. Harry stops, his eyes snapping back and forth between Y/N and his sister.

“Wait, you knew she would be coming?” he asks Gemma, who is sipping on some champagne with a knowing smile. She shrugs.

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” he scoffs, hands on his hips. The sight makes Y/N laugh, because she can see his sixteen year-old self in the pose so vividly, it’s insane.

“You never asked,” Gemma says and walks away. Harry turns back to Y/N.

“She messaged me if I got your invitation,” she admits. 

“So you’re telling me, all I should have done is to send you a message and ask for confirmation?”

Y/N just chuckles, shrugging her shoulders innocently. Harry exhales as he shakes his head.

“Alright, now you truly have to tell me everything.”

2020

“Can you hear me?” Harry asks, as the FaceTime finally loads and Y/N’s pixelated face fills his phone’s screen. He leans back on his plush couch and he tries his best to ignore how fast his heart starts pounding in his chest when he hears her laugh.

“Yeah, I can hear you,” she answers and it seems like she just sat down somewhere too.

Struggling with the unstable connection they share how their day has been so far, though Harry has been up just for a few hours while Y/N’s is almost over. The time difference has been making it hard for them to keep in touch, but Harry has learned his lesson and he bends his schedule around these talks, because there’s no way he would waste even a moment he could spend talking to her.

ONO and the days that followed changed everything. It didn’t take long for Harry to realize that his boyish crush is still very much present and after seeing her it quickly evolved into something more mature. Seemingly, Y/N has been sharing these feelings, because it appears she enjoys spending time with Harry in any way possible just as much as he does. 

It took them quite some time to catch up and it feels like they still haven’t shared everything they missed in each other’s life in the past years, but they know they have all the time they need, even if the circumstances might not always be the best. They are both trying their best.

There’s a comfortable silence in their call where both of them are just staring at each other through the screen. The unsaid things have been hanging there between them, they know it’s more than just their old friendship rekindled, but saying the words out through a FaceTime call wouldn’t be right.

“I miss you,” Harry finds himself mumbling the words, kind of to himself, but she hears the words.

“I miss you too,” she replies, biting her lip as she adjusts the phone in her hands.

“Can I… Can I see you before I go on tour?”

“That’s like… in three weeks,” she chuckles.

“I know. But I want to see you.”

“I don’t know, I have a regular, mundane job, I’m not an international rockstar who can just travel whenever it’s convenient,” she reminds him jokingly.

“Okay, then let me visit you.”

“You’re way too busy to come here.”

“I’m never too busy for you.”

She gasps at his words, the pink clouds so thick around her mind it’s almost sickening. If only she could reach out and through the screen…

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow and if you still think the same, we can… figure something out,” she smiles shyly. Harry knows he’ll feel the same tomorrow and the day after and forever. So he just smiles and nods.

They chat some more until Harry has to leave. Unwillingly, but they end the call and return to their separate lives.

Y/N stays on her couch, her phone still in her hands and Harry on her mind. Her TV is on, but it’s been muted, the screen is the only thing illuminating her in the dark room. With a tired sigh she reaches for the remote and turns the volume back on.

The news are on. She stands from the couch and starts cleaning up, not even listening to what they are talking about on the screen.

“... therefore COVID-19 has been officially declared a pandemic. WHO warns everyone to wear a mask in all public places, countries with a high number of cases are urgently discussing what other safety measures should…”

Y/N is questioning her sanity. She has been for the past week that was spent packing her suitcase, she took three covid tests in the last two days and now she is about to board a private jet at an airport that’s scarily empty. The last part shouldn’t be surprising, the whole world is under lockdown because of the pandemic, Y/N has spent her last month isolated in her apartment, right until one day Harry begged her to fly over to him.

“Y/N, please. I will settle everything, I’ll send a private jet for you, pay for it all, just please… please come here and be with me!”

There’s probably nothing she can deny from him. So here she is, escorted onto a private jet by an airport worker, they are both wearing their masks, just like everyone she has seen in the past week preparing for her travel.

Just as she settles in her seat on the jet, her phone buzzes from a text.

HARRY: Everything alright? Are you boarding already?

With a smile hidden under her mask she types her reply.

Y/N: On the plane, we’re taking off in 10.

HARRY: I can’t wait to see you.

Last time she traveled overseas was for a vacation years ago. She flew commercial then and it felt like hell, wedged between an obnoxious little boy and a middle aged woman who complained about everything. Now it’s just her and literally one single stewardess who is there to serve her. It’s a whole different experience for sure. 

Luckily, the journey feels a lot shorter when she’s comfortable, she can get up anytime and eat excellent food instead of some weird frozen meal on a plastic plate. By the time the jet touches down she feels rested and most importantly excited to see Harry again. It feels like forever when they had to say goodbye in december and in all honesty, it took them way longer to reunite, but it’s all because of the pandemic. It’s late april now, they were planning to meet about a month ago originally at the end of march before his tour was set to kick off. By now he was supposed to be on the road through Europe, but instead, he has been under lockdown just like the rest of the world.

She walks through LAX as if it was zombie land, it’s so eerily empty she is expecting zombies to round the corner any minute, but it never happens. She reaches the car waiting for her, the driver loads her begs to the trunk and then they are off to Harry’s place. 

It’s her first time at Harry’s LA home, and naturally it still baffles her to see where he’s gotten from his old life in Holmes Chapel, one that included her.

But his life includes her now as well, she reminds herself just as the car rolls up the long driveway. Getting out of the car she is about to grab her suitcases from the back of the car when the front door flies open and Harry sprints out. Literally.

He is running towards her with such speed, she almost gets knocked over when he finally reaches her and locks her in his arms, twirling around in the air.

“You’re here!” he breathes out, making her laugh.

“Were you not expecting me?” she teases him when he finally puts her down, but his arms remain around her.

“It’s just… I’m so happy to see you,” he smiles widely, taking her in. She hasn’t changed much since December, maybe her hair has gotten a little longer, but she looks the same.

However their feelings are nowhere near the same.

He thanks the driver and then grabs all her bags, urging her to come inside. Y/N wanders further into his home exploring it right away, already migrating towards the pool outside. Harry sets her luggage down in the hallway and walks after her, watching her stop by the sliding doors, admiring the enormous backyard. She turns around and catches him staring.

“What?” she asks, nervously laughing.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head. “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

2021

He’s nervous. There’s no use in denying, anyone could see it. But no one can blame him, it’s been so long since he last stood on a stage, he’s afraid he lost his groove, though the people who know him beg to differ. 

Washing his teeth in his fluffy robe he is eyeing his outfit for tonight that’s hanging in the corner. He knows his fans will love it, the color pink alone would make them go feral, but the sparkly vest with no top underneath will be surely like they won the jackpot. 

He spits and rinses his mouth just when there’s a soft knock on the door and just by the rhythm of it he knows who it is.

“Come in!” he calls out, wiping his mouth with a towel just when Y/N pokes her head inside, her body following a second later. 

“Hey,” she smiles shyly, taking him in for a second as he moves around the room.

“Told you, you don’t have to knock when you come in,” he chuckles.

“But, what if you’re… naked or something?”

He stops and stares back at her, giving her an ‘Are you kidding me?’ look that gets her all flustered in an instant so he decides to take it even further.

“Nothing you haven’t seen, baby. In fact, you can see it right now if you wanted to.” He starts untying his robe, but she stops him laughing and taking the opportunity of having her so close now he wraps her in his arms and kisses her.

It never gets old. The feeling he gets whenever he gets to kiss her, whether it’s a good morning kiss right after he wakes up, or a tired kiss at the end of the day, a needy kiss when he just wants her more than anything or a make-up kiss after a fight, which doesn’t happen often. He can count it on one hand how many times they got into an argument since they’ve become an item in April 2020, when Y/N spent most of the lockdown with Harry. Originally, she planned to stay only for a couple of weeks, but she didn’t return home until the start of June and she was back by July.

Now it’s September 2021, so it’s been almost one and a half years since then and they are still just as in love as they were during lockdown.

“You’re nervous,” she mumbles against his lips and it’s not a question. She knows him, all of his looks, his movements, she knows what he thinks about most of the time if not always, she can read him like a book.

Harry hums and just goes in for another kiss.

“You’ll be amazing, don’t worry,” she smiles at him, patting his chest as she pulls back. “And even if you make a mistake, the pink sparkles will distract everyone,” she jokes, nodding towards his outfit.

“You’ll be out there?”

“Of course. I’ll be the one screaming the loudest.”

“As loud as last night?” The cheeky grin that stretches across his face is proof that he is not that nervous if he can make dirty jokes.

“Shut up or I’m going home,” she laughs, poking a finger into his chest teasingly. He grabs her finger and pulls her back for another kiss.

“Nope, you’re stuck here. With me,” he smirks, lips coming over hers again.

2023

The bittersweet feeling has been lingering around the crew not just all day, but probably for a week now. Everyone knew that the end was coming and now that the final show is officially here, the emotions are overflowing. Everything they are doing, they are doing it for the last time on Love On Tour. It’s the last stage, the last sound check, last time Wet Leg takes the stage before Harry and it’s the last time Y/N is sitting in his dressing room, watching him put on his outfit of the night.

She can sense that he is different than he usually is before a show, he seems antsy and his eyebrows have been furrowed probably since lunch. Y/N watches him pace the floor back and forth in his sparkly outfit, nervously fixing the wire behind his neck even though it’s exactly in the same spot it usually is.

“Do you want me to help?” she asks and Harry stops in his tracks, as if he just realized what he’s been doing. His hands fall by his side as he exhales sharply.

“Sorry, just… fidgeting.”

Y/N stands from the couch and walking over she absentmindedly fixes his fringed vest, planting her palms onto his chest gently.

“It’s okay to be sad, H,” she reminds him. Harry tends to hide his big, sad feelings, because he feels like it would bother others. He is always so considerate about dealing with everyone else’s feelings, but this time his emotions should be in focus as well.

“I don’t want to be sad, that’s the thing. It was a great experience, sadness should not be a thing when I think of Love On Tour.”

“But that’s why it’s okay to be sad. Because this amazing experience is ending and it’s natural that you’re mourning it. It lasted, what? Like almost two years? And if we count in the planning, this tour has been part of your life since 2019. That was four years ago, no one expects you to just let go of it laughing.”

Harry nods, his arms snaking around her waist as he pulls her into his embrace, needing to feel her close in this overwhelming moment. She’s been his anchor, the person he could turn to no matter what during this insanely long tour, he’s convinced he couldn’t have done it all without her. 

Not even Harry can slow time down, so the moment to step onto the stage for the last time in this tour finally comes. Y/N stands with his family and friends at the side, holding Anne’s hands whenever an emotional song is played by him. He puts one thousand percent into it, just like every time on this tour and Y/N’s chest swells with pride when she realizes that it’s one hundred thousand people screaming at her lover.

Or fiancé, to be exact. 

When Harry sings Falling, to his fans’ surprise, she notices him looking for her in the crowd. The song is melancholic and it was written about a time he felt at his lowest, but to look in his eyes tells it all to Y/N.

He is not there anymore, because he has her. 

She’s twisting her diamond ring around her finger as tears dwell in her eyes while she sings along to the song, hoping that her expression tells him too, that she is happy to be the person who brought light into his life, because he did the same to her.

Then the time comes for Harry’s thank you speech and no eye is left dry after his words. Y/N has to swallow back her sobs when he turns to her and addresses his words straight to her.

“My love, thank you for everything, you were such a big part of this journey and I hope that our journey will continue forever.”

The fans are screaming, phones are pointed at her, recording her reaction as she just nods eagerly, one hand covering her wobbling lips. 

For his final piano piece Y/N moves backstage to watch him from there and be there when he walks off the stage for the very last time in the history of Love On Tour. She is standing there with the proudest and most emotional expression on her face when Harry jumps down the steps and he smashes into her arms right away, burying his face into the crook of her neck. She can feel his tears against her skin and she gently keeps combing her hand through his hair, giving him as much time to recover as he needs. 

When he finally lifts his head his eyes are glassy, but there’s a smile on his lips.

“You did amazing,” Y/N tells him, gently wiping his cheeks with her hands.

“And you did too,” he says and his words make her laugh.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You did the absolute most, Y/N. You gave me your love and support and I couldn’t have done it without those.”

Her heart melts as she pushes up to her tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You’ll forever have those. You’ll forever have me.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[rafedarling]

𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞

pairing: major!drew starkey x nurse!reader

summary: it’s 1944, and the world is engulfed in the turmoil of wwii. on a remote air force base, major drew starkey prepares for a perilous mission, while you, a shy and introverted young nurse, watches from afar, your heart caught between admiration and fear. you has never been one to express your feelings openly, but as drew faces an uncertain future in the skies, you gathers the courage to write your first letter to a man—a heartfelt confession of love. before he departs, you quietly hands him the letter, never knowing how it will change you both.

warning(s): english is not my native language. contains emotional themes set during ww2, themes of war and separation, mild language and teasing from fellow soldiers.

au: like, reblog, comment and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @stuffyownswrld @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxoblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @littlelamy

part ii - part iii - …

You, as a nurse stationed at the airbase, you were accustomed to keeping your head down, doing your work with precision and care, never drawing attention to yourself. You’d been stationed here for months, yet it still felt like you didn’t belong in the whirl of action around you.

But there was one person whose presence never failed to draw your gaze, no matter how much you tried to remain invisible.

Major Drew Starkey.

To everyone else, he was a leader—a seasoned officer whose calm authority and unwavering composure made him stand out among the others. He was the kind of man who seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet always found a way to offer a smile to those who needed it. His tall frame, sharp features, and focused blue eyes made him a figure of admiration and respect, and you were no exception.

But to you, he was more than just a Major in the Air Force.

He was Major Drew—the man whose voice sent a flutter through your chest whenever he spoke, even if it was just to ask about a patient’s condition. The man whose steady hands and quiet courage filled you with a sense of safety in a world torn apart by war. For months, you had admired him from a distance, your heart skipping a beat every time he passed by. You would catch glimpses of him during routine check-ups or briefings, his brow furrowed in concentration, his posture always strong and sure. You never allowed yourself to imagine more than a fleeting glance or polite exchange; he was an officer, after all, and you were just a nurse.

But as time went by, as each mission became more perilous and the losses more profound, something began to shift within you. The thought of him flying off into the unknown without knowing how much he meant to you gnawed at your heart. Every time he left on a mission, the knot in your stomach tightened, fearing he might not return.

And then, one evening, as the sun dipped low the base was sinking in soft amber light, you made a decision. It was impulsive and terrifying, but the fear of regret outweighed your shyness. You had to let him know, even if only once, even if he never read the words.

You decided to write him a letter.

Sitting in your small quarters, surrounded by the muffled sounds of soldiers laughing and planes preparing for takeoff, you hesitated, the pen hovering over the paper. How do you write to a man like Major Drew? What words could possibly capture the depth of what you felt, the quiet admiration that had grown into something so much more?

But you had to try. You had to be brave, even if just for one fleeting moment.

Dear Major Drew Starkey, I do not know where to begin, nor how to put into words what my heart has long wanted to say. Perhaps it is foolish of me to write to you like this, but the uncertainty of tomorrow compels me to be braver than I’ve ever been before. I know you are a man of duty, a man of courage, and that your mind is always focused on the task at hand. But I wonder if, in the quiet hours when you are alone, your thoughts drift as mine do—to those you hold dear, to the things that make this war worth fighting. I think of you often, more than I should. More than I’ve ever thought of anyone. It’s strange to admit it, even to myself, but in the stillness of the night, when the world around us is consumed by chaos, it is your face I see. Your voice I hear. It is your strength that makes me feel safe, even when everything else is falling apart. I have never written a letter like this before, and I confess I am terrified of how you will receive it. But I cannot go another day without letting you know how deeply I care for you, how much I admire the man you are—not just the officer, but the man who carries so much on his shoulders without complaint. I will not ask anything of you. I do not expect you to respond. All I ask is that you take these words with you, wherever you go, and know that someone here thinks of you every day. That someone prays for your safe return, not because it is your duty to return, but because you are cared for—because I care for you. If fate allows, I hope that one day we may speak of these things in person. But until then, please know that my thoughts are with you always. Yours, in heart and in hope, Y/N”

You read and reread the letter until the words blurred before your eyes, but the feeling behind them remained steady. With trembling hands, you folded the letter neatly and slipped it into a plain envelope. You stared at it for what felt like hours, your heart pounding in your chest as if it might burst. Could you really give this to him? What if he didn’t feel the same? What if he laughed at you, or worse—what if he never even opened it?

But there was no turning back now. You had written the letter, and you had to deliver it.

The opportunity came sooner than you expected. The next morning, just before dawn, the base was a flurry of activity. Major Drew was preparing for another mission—this one longer and more dangerous than the others. The soldiers were gearing up, checking their equipment, and sharing quiet conversations before the inevitable parting. You watched from the infirmary window, your heart heavy with the weight of the letter tucked inside your apron pocket.

You took a deep breath and forced your feet to move. As you made your way toward the runway, the early morning light casting long shadows over the ground, you spotted him. He stood by his plane, speaking to a group of officers, his back to you.

You almost turned around.

But then, as if sensing your presence, Major Drew glanced over his shoulder and saw you. His expression softened, his blue eyes locking onto yours in a way that made your heart stutter. Without thinking, you hurried toward him, clutching the letter so tightly your knuckles turned white.

“Major Starkey,” you called out, your voice barely audible over the hum of the engines. His gaze shifted to you fully, and he stepped away from the group, his tall figure moving toward you with a calm, confident stride.

“Y/N,” he greeted, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “What brings you out here? Everything alright?”

You nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in your throat as you fumbled for the words. “I—I just wanted to give you this,” you stammered, thrusting the envelope toward him before you could lose your nerve.

He glanced down at the envelope, then back at you, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “What’s this?” he asked softly, though there was no pressure in his voice, no demand—only a gentle interest.

“It’s just…” Your voice faltered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “It’s something I wanted you to have before you leave.”

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze around you. The sounds of the base faded, the distant voices of soldiers and the rumble of engines becoming nothing more than background noise. It was just the two of you, standing there in the early morning light, the air thick with unspoken words.

Major Drew took the envelope from your trembling hands, his fingers brushing yours in a way that sent a jolt of warmth through your body. He held your gaze for a long moment, as if trying to read the meaning behind your sudden act of courage.

“I’ll read it when I get back,” he promised, his voice low and steady, filled with an understanding that made your heart ache. He smiled at you, that rare, gentle smile that always made the world feel just a little bit brighter. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You nodded, your throat too tight to speak. And then, before you could embarrass yourself further, you turned and hurried away, your heart pounding in your chest as the weight of what you had just done settled over you.

Hours later, the base had fallen into an uneasy quiet. The planes were gone, the soldiers off on their mission, and you were left in the stillness of the infirmary, going through the motions of your duties while your mind raced with a thousand thoughts.

Would he read the letter? Would he think you were foolish for writing it? Would he even come back?

Night fell, and with it came the familiar sounds of planes returning to base. You didn’t rush to the runway this time, too afraid of what you might or might not see. Instead, you stayed in the infirmary, tending to your work, your heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty.

Meanwhile, in the soldiers’ quarters, Major Drew sat among his fellow officers, exhausted but relieved to have returned safely. The men around him joked and teased, trying to shake off the tension of the mission with laughter and camaraderie. But Drew’s mind wasn’t with them.

He reached into his jacket pocket, feeling the soft edges of the envelope you had given him. His comrades noticed the movement and, ever the opportunists, one of them nudged him with a sly grin.

“Hey, Starkey,” one of the soldiers teased. “What’s that you’ve got there? A love letter from a secret admirer?”

The others joined in, their voices filled with playful banter.

“Don’t keep it to yourself, Major! Let’s hear what your girl’s got to say!”

Drew rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not for you lot,” he muttered, standing up and stepping away from the group. He could still hear their laughter behind him, but it was distant now, fading into the background as he found a quiet corner and opened the letter.

As he unfolded the paper, the world seemed to slow, your delicate handwriting coming into view. He read your words carefully, the weight of your confession settling over him like a warm blanket. The teasing from his comrades faded into nothing, replaced by the quiet vulnerability of your letter.

For a long moment, he simply sat there, the letter clutched in his hands, a strange mix of emotions washing over him. He hadn’t expected this—not from you, not from someone so quiet and reserved. But as he read and reread your words, something stirred in him, something deep and unspoken that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time.

When he finally folded the letter and tucked it safely back into his jacket, his heart felt lighter, as if the weight of the world had lifted just slightly. The war still raged on, the uncertainty of tomorrow still loomed, but in that moment, your words gave him something he hadn’t realized he needed.

Hope.

He smiled to himself, standing up and returning to his comrades, their teasing starting up again the moment he rejoined them. “So, Starkey,” one of them called out, grinning from ear to ear. “Your mystery girl leave you love-struck?”

Drew chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Something like that,” he replied, his voice low, as if sharing a secret only he knew. Because that’s what it was—your letter was a secret, a treasure he would carry with him wherever the war took him next.

No matter what Drew knew one thing for certain: he would come back.

For you.

For the promise of something more.

[jackiepackiee]

Crushing Genya who NEVER swears when you’re around

Crushing Genya who blushes every time you two speak, or when you’re in the same room

Crushing Genya who trains even harder to not only impress you but to also keep you safe

Crushing Genya who has indirectly confessed multiple times and swears he’s the luckiest man alive when you don’t notice “He was way to harsh on you during training! I would never treat a person as lovely as you so roughly. I- I mean! Uhh…”

Crushing Genya who knew he was head over heels when you didn’t get scared of his demon form (even though he tried to hide it from you)

Crushing Genya who finally confesses after a long mission, realizing he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. Forgetting about the embarrassment and going for it

Crushing Genya who blushed and stuttered throughout the entire confession, but built up the courage to hold your hands and tell you everything

Crushing Genya who swears his heart almost stopped when you said you feel the same

Boyfriend Genya who always says in contact with you. Be it letters, daily talks, one on one meals, or even secret meetings after training

Boyfriend Genya who holds you hand so gently you swear it’s like he’s holding a fragile flower

Boyfriend Genya who cries infront of you for the first time when you kiss his cheek where his scar is, thinking of the night everything happened and your kindness he never expected

Boyfriend Genya who tells Sanemi about your relationship with confidence, not shying away (and impressing his brother with his newfound attitude)

Boyfriend Genya who swears to never be like his father

Boyfriend Genya who has his first kiss with you

Boyfriend Genya who shyly rants to Gyomei and Tanjiro about you, never stopping his compliments and adoration

Fiancé Genya who finally got the courage to propose after his brother told him his dream of Genya having a family

Fiancé Genya who asked Gyomei and Shinbou what kind of ring you would like, and getting told by Mitsuri your birthstone

Fiancé Genya who took you to a garden of wisteria trees (because of their safety and beauty) and proposed

Fiancé Genya who says, even if your both young, he’s knows he’s ready

Fiancé Genya who cries when you accept

Husband Genya who is still as sweet and loving as the second you knew you loved him

[thelittlewriter]

Anonymous letter

A Valentine's Day Story

Pairing : Kenma x Reader

"Dear Y/N,

I like you. There's no need to beat around the bush since it's Valentine's Day and I'm gifting you chocolate. Thank you for being as nice and positive as you are, it always makes my day better.

P.S. : there's no need for me to sign this letter because I'm only telling you that I like you, I'm not asking you to like me back."

And that was it. No hint, nothing. You had no idea who was this person. You stared at the handwriting for hours, and couldn't even figure out if it was someone you knew. You guessed it was someone you knew at least a little, seeing how you apparently made his day better. The thought made you laugh a little. How could you make someone's day better just by... existing ?

But you couldn't laugh too hard. After all, someone made your day better just by existing. But there was no way you would've gifted him chocolate for Valentine's Day.

Kenma just wasn't the type. You had spent the whole day with him, and he never asked once. Even when Kuroo asked you, he didn't seem interested. You tried to avoid answering the question all day until you just couldn't. So you lied.

"No, I didn't get anything", you said. "Did you ?"

He paused for a while, frowning his eyebrows. But he still answered :

"Of course. The ladies love me."

After a while, he asked again :

"So you really didn't get anything ?"

You shook your head. After all, that "anonymous sender" could've been a prank. You would never know.

"Even if I did", you added. "I wouldn't have kept them."

Finally, Kenma raised his head and looked at you.

"Why ?"

"Because I'm not interested. I'll just throw them away."

You didn't mean the last part. Whether you felt the same thing, someone had the courage to tell you how they felt for you. That was more than you could do. But you just didn't want to talk about chocolate and Valentine's Day anymore.

"You threw away my chocolate ?" you heard.

You turned to Kenma. He was pouting, as he avoided your gaze.

"It was you ?" you asked, confused.

He didn't say anything, as he walked faster to keep a distance between you. You couldn't see his face anymore. You turned to Kuroo, who was looking in the opposite direction. And then you realized.

They were both in on it.

"So it was a prank ?"

Nobody answered. You ran to Kenma.

"Why would you do that ?"

He looked back at you. His piercing gaze froze you.

"Wasn't the letter clear enough ?"

You didn't know what to answer. You didn't know what to do. You couldn't say anything. What if it was not a prank ? What if he really liked you ? What if...

"I was not pranking you," he said.

Then, he whispered :

"But you threw them away."

You quickly grabbed his hand as he turned away.

"I didn't !"

You opened your bag, showing him the chocolate box. You saw how his eyes lit up and you looked away, embarrassed. You thought about the letter again. It really looked like you were making his day better, just now. Just like he did.

"I was going to eat them, I swear."

"Then why did you say you wouldn't ?"

Your heart clenched. You wanted to say the words but all you could do was admire him for being able to do what you couldn't.

"I had my reasons", you just whispered.

You caught a glimpse of a smile on his face as you started to walk again.

"You know", he said after a while. "Gifting chocolate isn't really my thing."

You laughed.

"I know. That's why I didn't gift you any."

"What did you say ?"

You didn't answer. You weren't ready yet. Still, you grabbed his hand as he silently walked you home. You would have a lot of talking to do when Valentine's Day is over. But right now, all that mattered was that he liked you and you liked him too.

[second-wife-playbook]

@helluvaoutlaw

Since becoming a regular at Sugar Buzzed, Coronis had a secret to keep.

No one else would find it a secret worth keeping. People had what she was hiding all the time, and out in the open. Many more than one! It was had by the young and old, men and women, and none knew the importance of keeping it to oneself.

Coronis did. She had a crush.

There was only one person who she came to see at Sugar Buzzed. The staff knew her faces and were kind and polite, and the service therefore was reliably good. The drinks too. But one person had made her a regular, and thus occupied the soft spot in her heart with all his deeds thus far.

Their reoccurring headliner, Striker.

He was playing again tonight. Many nights would pass before, where Coronis would congratulate him on a job well done, politely ask how his week had gone, and wish him a better week to follow. Pure manners. And if the other patrons flirted with him, sending him flowers-

.....

.......well she tried not to look.

But this time was different. A lot of liquid courage had gone into writing it, and she was still downing more of it just to give herself strength to give it to him when his set was over. He reliably came to greet her each time his song set was over.

And if she didn't have a heart attack in the middle....she would have a love letter for him.

......

.....What? There was no way she could ask him out to his face.

Coronis sat, in her corner of the bar. She was three drinks in, strong stuff, whole grade Beelzjuice. The letter was in her best stationary, as honest and artful as possible. And she waited.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 140 }

love letter of flowers.

jinwoo sung x florist.fem!reader

lately, there has been a handsome young man who frequented at your flower shop.

he was well dressed, always appearing within the cozy confines of your quaint little shop while in a pristine suit. with his ebony locks of hair falling across his features in gentle waves coupled along with grey eyes that seemed to shine beneath the sunlight, perfectly mirroring his emotions...

you found that you couldn't look away from him, even if you tried.

he had been visiting your shop daily for roughly a month now, with him buying the most extravagant of bouquets for someone you assumed that he loved a great deal. for some odd reason, just the thought of him already having a lover made your chest ache.

despite the bouquets he had purchased being chosen and crafted by your own loving touch, it made you yearn for a type of love this man and his beloved had. truly, the he had to be absolutely crazy about his girlfriend to buy her such gorgeous bouquets every single day.

as you were caught up in your reveries, you find yourself breaking out of your daydreams when the sounds of chiming bells alerts you to an incoming customer. as you trail your eyes toward the entrance, you felt your heart skip beats once more, seeing him again-

sung jinwoo.

he greets you with a kind smile before looking over at your collection of bouquets. curious as to what he was going to choose, you steadily head over to your cash register and keep sneaking glances at him.

after a few minutes of consideration, he chooses the bouquet he was going to gift, which had to be the most expensive one yet: a rainbow bouquet of roses consisting of bright petals shaded in a variety of colors.

your throat seems to close up in response to this man's dedication, ringing up the bouquet while tying a neat bow against its cellophane wrapping.

"your girlfriend must be lucky to have you." you find yourself telling him casually, trying to hide those stupid emotions that were felt bubbling within your chest.

"excuse me?"

hearing the absolute confusion within his voice makes you freeze and do a double take. gathering your courage, you look back up at him with a tilt of your head.

"you come in here every day to buy a bouquet... isn't it for your lover?"

after hearing your explanation, you felt your cheeks turn hotter in response to the sounds of his laughter. your assumptions seemed incredibly amusing to him, as he spent the next several minutes laughing all while trying to catch his breath.

"hahaha, y-you're so funny, haha..." you watch as jinwoo wipes the tears from his eyes, finally calming down before confessing to you.

"all of these bouquets are gifts for my mom... she..." he trails off, appearing shy all of a sudden as he rubs the back of his neck with a hand. "she was a victim to the eternal sleep disease, and she woke up not too long ago. i didn't want to take her for granted anymore, so i decided to spoil her whenever i could now that she's awake and well."

a sense of guilt was felt coursing through you, and you felt incredibly selfish for actually feeling envious over this whole ordeal. this man standing before you was not only incredibly beautiful on the outside-

but perhaps more so than that was the beauty he held on the inside, with you knowing that he had an unconditional kindness settled deep within his heart and soul.

as if he could read your thoughts, jinwoo gives you a lazy grin. "was there a reason why you brought this up?"

"n-no! no reason at all!" you take his debit card then and insert it into your card reader, taking his payment for the bouquet that had always been meant for his mother. you really hoped that jinwoo didn't catch on, or had any suspicions to your words-

but something about the look in his eyes made you think that he had probably known all along.

wanting to do something to make up for your asinine assumptions, you call out to jinwoo just as he held the newly purchased and precious bouquet within his arms.

"if you could wait a moment, sir, i- i have something for you."

jinwoo stops walking and gives you a gentle nod. as you go back to the aisles of your shop, your eyes finally land on the single bloom that you had been looking for:

a red carnation, to convey how much i admire him.

holding the red carnation gingerly within your hand, you tie a slender white ribbon over its stem before giving it to jinwoo.

"here, this one is on the house, just for... you know, your daily visits, and the fact that you're sweet enough to buy a bouquet for your mother every single day and all."

were your eyes playing tricks on you, or was it due to the lighting of your shop? because you swore you saw jinwoo's pale cheeks take on an almost rosier hue the moment he accepts your carnation.

"t-thank you. i'm not doing much, but i do want to make my mother happy."

giving him a nod, you wave goodbye to him the moment he leaves your store, letting out a dreamy sigh as you kept your gaze on him, never once straying away from him until the moment you could no longer see his retreating back.

{ ... }

it wasn't until much later that you realized just who sung jinwoo truly was-

and such realization came in the form of his supposed fans waiting for him to arrive to your flower shop as they seemed to linger outside of its periphery.

in fact, even jinwoo himself was caught off guard by those people who considered themselves a huge part of his fanbase. he seemed hesitant, and although the voices sounded muffled, you could hear bits and pieces of the conversation as you understood the gist of what was going on.

those people were absolutely smitten with jinwoo.

deciding to do a quick search of his name, you figured that he would be some minor celebrity due to some charity work he had done (because even the heavens know that the man has the heart to do so!)

so when his name popped up, and you saw his title as being yet another s-rank hunter within korea, you felt your mind go dizzy in response.

this explained how jinwoo was able to afford purchasing a new bouquet for his mother every day, with his card never seeming to decline. in fact, s-rank hunters were practically considered celebrities here-

and you felt your courage in admitting your feelings for him shrivel up in response to this newfound fact.

because you knew that you would never be able to bask in the same world as him, being labeled as a mere civilian who had no special abilities that could even survive the gates that would randomly appear, let alone fight in them.

so you continue watching the fans as they surround jinwoo with a sigh, yet, it seemed as though their interactions had taken on a bit of a stranger tone. jinwoo kept his hands upright, shaking his head at every phone and notebook that was pointed at him. he keeps gesturing at you and says a few words to them.

and oh, if you only knew that you were most likely going to have one of the busiest days of your life.

immediately, his haul of fans rush into your shop, taking bouquets and singular flowers alike as they lined up to purchase what you had to offer. despite how overwhelming the sudden influx of customers were, you were able to accurately sell the bouquets and flowers jinwoo's fans had purchased.

this went on for a few hours, and once the last of your customers had left, you were left looking at how your sales had practically doubled thanks to jinwoo. by the end of it all, your hair was left in a bit of a mess, with those loose strands falling out of your ponytail.

as you were trying to catch your breath, you hear the sounds of jinwoo's rich chuckles as he slides up towards your counter, this time with a simple bouquet of white lilies in his hand. you give him a look of suspicion, your chest practically heaving up and down in tune with your labored breaths when you shakily ask, "w-what did you do?"

a wide grin paints his handsome features as he lets out a hum while saying your name. "i don't know what you're talking about."

you purposely arch an eyebrow at him in response. "you're telling me that you had nothing to do with the sudden influx of people that nearly purchased my entire stock?"

jinwoo scratches at the tip of his nose in response, completely amused by the feign accusation in your voice. "well... i may have told them that i wouldn't take a selfie with them, or sign their notebooks if they didn't buy at least one item from your shop."

a sudden warmth was felt spreading across your chest when you ask with a bit of a tremor in your voice, "isn't that... kind of illegal?"

he hums and shakes his head, "i don't think so. after all, they were all loitering in front of your shop waiting for me... and i couldn't allow them to cause such an inconvenience to you without doing something about it."

"after all..." he suddenly leans closer to you, with his hands softly brushing back your hair as you felt your heart skipping beats in response when he tells you, "it was all my fault... they came here waiting for me, so... i took advantage of the situation to help you out, instead."

you were left speechless, unable to say a word when jinwoo hands you his debit card once more. as usual, you ring up the card and wrap another ribbon around the bouquet, and this time, you already had in mind what flower you wished to give him as a simple gift.

a pale pink ranunculus, as proof of how much i am enchanted by the sheer radiance of him.

you find the perfect bloom still settled amidst its sisters, happy that your patrons hadn't touched such a uniquely beautiful yet simple flower. giving him a shy smile, you place the pastel pink bloom on top of his bouquet of white lilies, basking in his smile.

he gives you another wave goodbye, promising to see you again the next day as you found your heart racing with anticipation.

when he leaves was when you allow your smile to disappear, turning solemn as you thought about how slim of a chance you had with him. despite how you knew that your heart was turning soft with feelings of love for him, you didn't wish to acknowledge such emotions-

because someone as bright and brilliant like jinwoo would never even spare you a second glance.

yet despite how deep down you knew you would never be able to admit your feelings for him, that didn't mean that you would stop conveying them to him-

after all, the least you could do was give him a love letter of flowers each time he came by.

{ ... }

jinwoo couldn't bring himself to allow the single flowers you had given him to die out. using his own hidden abilities as the shadow monarch, he manages to keep them in perfect condition, placing each colorful bloom within a large vase that was filled with water colored a gentle, violet hue.

he keeps such flowers separate from the extravagant bouquets he gives his mom, not even telling her or jinah of their existence. ever since he came across the beautiful woman's quaint little flower shop, he was quite enamored with her.

he would never admit such a thing to those closest to him, but he actually had a silly, ulterior motive to buying bouquets for his mother every day-

and that was to see you again, the beautiful florist who managed to capture his heart with your kindness and curious gaze.

with sigh, he spends the next hour or so simply admiring the single blooms you had given him, allowing his hand to gently caress at each petal, imagining the feel of your lips being just as soft.

"my king, if i could please have your attention."

jinwoo trails his gaze over to igris, one of his most loyal and trusted soldiers. he blinks at the former blood-red commander and gives him a nod, "what is it, igris?"

igris clears his throat while reading a book that had a picture of flowers on them. "may i ask what flowers your beloved has given you?"

"w-what- she's not my-"

"i apologize for the bluntness of my words, my king, but i must know. will you tell them to me?"

jinwoo sighs and carefully takes the precious flowers out of the vase while placing them on his desk.

a red carnation-

pink ranunculus-

pale pink carnation-

red chrysanthemum-

purple tulip-

a pink bluebell.

a deep chuckle was heard from igris as his chest seemed to puff out with pride.

"my king, if you look at the marked pages of this book of flowers and their meanings, you will come to realize that such blooms were were meant to signify that woman's love and devotion to you."

his eyes became wider, and the young hunter could feel his heart pounding from within his throat as igris places the book into his hands. sure enough, as jinwoo read the pages, he was able to piece together the hidden meaning from within each flower.

a red carnation for a deep admiration,

pink ranunculus as proof of someone's enchantment,

pale pink carnation for a new love

red chrysanthemum for a passionate love

purple tulip for a perfect love,

and a pink bluebell, to signify an everlasting love-

jinwoo quickly looks at the time before closing his eyes, searching through the consciousness of one of the soldiers he had placed with you as he saw you locking up your shop while standing on the sidewalk.

"exchange."

before igris would even utter a word, beru was left settled at the desk where his king once sat. the former ant king gives his colleague a look of confusion from suddenly reappearing within his king's room, causing igris to simply shrug in response.

"it seems as though our king has been caught up in the throes of love. we should let him be and wait for his return... with his queen."

{ ... }

you felt a sudden shift in the air the moment you left your shop, shivering slightly when you turn around and was met with the sudden appearance of jinwoo himself.

"wha- jinwoo?!"

he seemed unfazed by the look of panic in your eyes, dressed casually in a white t-shirt and sweatpants. you saw that he now wore simple converses as he takes casual steps closer to you.

upon closer inspection, jinwoo seemed to be blushing, becoming so prominent as even the tip of his ears was flushed as well.

"how did you get here... were you always here?"

jinwoo swallows thickly, running a hand through his hair before letting out a sigh, "you could say that... but, that's not what i'm here for."

before you could ask him what he meant, he goes straight into it while telling you, "those flowers you had given me these past couple of days- you know, as little 'gifts?' yeah, i...i finally know what they all mean."

you froze completely when he mentioned the free flowers you had given him and how he knew their meaning. moving your hands up and down your arms to stave off the sudden chill you felt, you act completely oblivious. "w-what? i don't know what you're talking about. i mean, those were j-just pretty and cute flowers that i gifted for you!"

"a deep admiration..." jinwoo begins to speak in a bit of a trance, "feeling enchanted by me; a new, passionate and perfect love- an everlasting love."

you found yourself waiting with bated breath, not able to move even when he approaches you, placing a hand on your cheek while softly caressing at your skin. "that was the message you wished to convey to me this whole time...?"

your heart was racing once more, feeling your gaze narrowing at him when he inches closer to you. "y-yes... it's true..."

"hm..." he trails off, yet you could see the wide grin that spreads across his lips when he places a hand against your chin, keeping you still as his hot breath was felt tickling at your lips.

"i'm glad to know that you feel the same way. and don't get me wrong, i have every intention of taking you out on a date while claiming you as my girlfriend. but first-

i really want to kiss you right now."

your eager nod and the way you let out a dreamy sigh was all the confirmation jinwoo needed to press his lips against yours in a perfect kiss, making you feel grateful that your love letter managed to reach him after all-

(regardless of the fact that jinwoo needed some help to finally understand the message you were trying to convey 💐)

a.n. - it’s about time i wrote a full on fluffy oneshot that doesn’t have much angst in it for jinwoo 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.