#palm tree bracelet

[saltyfreejewelry]

Palm Tree Bracelet Rose Gold | Salty & Free Jewelry

Discover the Palm Tree Bracelet in rose gold from Salty & Free Jewelry, a stunning piece that embodies the carefree spirit of island life. Crafted with meticulous attention to detail, this bracelet features a beautifully designed palm tree charm that adds a touch of elegance and charm. The warm rose gold finish makes it a versatile accessory, perfect for both casual and formal occasions. Stack it with other favorites or wear it solo to make a statement. Embrace your love for adventure and style with this exquisite bracelet that captures the essence of paradise.

[starsrosesglitters]

[dilfsfordinner]

honeymoon- nanami kento x wife!reader

a/n- in preparation for this week’s episode, this is my ode to my husband

warnings- fem!reader, unprotected sex, praise, missionary pos, mating press, belly bulge, nanami has a big d, implied breeding kink, fluffff

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Nanami Kento had been dreaming of a vacation. Somewhere with sand and palm trees, warm weather, the ocean, you. Now it would take a lot for him to admit this because he’s not a dreamer, per se, especially with his strict work ethic, but the amount of times he had to catch himself during a shift from drifting off in a fantasy about sleeping in or relaxing on the beach, you could say he had started to reflect his child-like self.

Except every single one of those dreams could not rival the feeling of experiencing his honeymoon with you. He’d gotten what he wanted. A private villa, surrounded by greenery with a whole rainbow of colors blessing the space. Red, orange, pink, and especially white flowers would pop out from the dense leaves of the tropical garden that was essentially your front yard, their sweet perfume just light enough to not be too overbearing. The villa was perched in a cluster of palms, the white-sand beaches of the Caribbean literally at your disposal by a pathway from your bedroom, its wood-lined trail leading down to a private oceanside cove of sand and the most vivid aquamarine water you’d ever seen.

It had been five days since the two of you had arrived at your little oasis, 120 hours of complete and utter relaxation accompanied by sheer happiness. You could barely contain your excitement for the trip when he’d announced the surprise destination a month before your wedding, and that giddiness you were once feeling was multiplied tenfold. Kento Nanami was finally your husband. The man you had fallen for was now tied to you legally and emotionally, the two of you matching with the golden bands placed upon your fingers, yours just a tad bit more extravagant with the stone you had dreamt of forged perfectly into the smooth metal.

Your favorite gift you had received though was once again from your husband. It had been given on the day of your wedding, a little white, bow-tied box placed in your hands before the reception. Upon opening it, you were met with a pretty bracelet, a twisted chain of pure platinum so uniformly perfect, you knew your husband had picked it. Your favorite part however, was the tiny charm hanging from the chain, a cursive “k” inscribed into the precious material, a clear sign of your newly wed’s hand in the purchase. “I’m yours now,” he had whispered into your hair, kissing away a stray tear from your cheek before helping you clasp the delicate chain around your wrist.

For days you had thanked him any way you could for his kindness, the two new additions he’d gifted so beautifully thoughtful, gifts that certainly garnered a lot of attention, especially when it came to some.. exerting activities.

It was like the atmosphere had turned you two into animals, your bodies sore from the endless (sorry for lack of a better word), fucking, the tension so thick you could feel it heavy in your chest, the warm, salty breeze flowing through the mesh, white curtains of your bedroom doing nothing to help calm your lustful state.

It was nearly dusk and your current session had started about an hour ago, any and every position you could think of already tried, your body turned and flipped a multitude of times before you were placed on your back again, thighs pushed up against your chest, your legs falling over your husband’s broad shoulders.

Your throat was dry from the fountain of moans constantly spilling from your mouth, Nanami’s name starting to sound like an imaginary word from the amount of times you’d choked out the syllables. Don’t be too embarrassed though because he was just as knocked as you, his skin flush from exertion, sweat dampening his blonde locks, and his usually cool tone of voice had turned desperate, your own name a slurred grumble or groan every time he felt you clench around him.

Your silky, white nightgown had been discarded long ago, the little scrap of fabric on the floor reminding you of what had started this escapade in the first place. The memory of Nanami’s eyes darkening when you’d emerged for bedtime had your stomach tightening and eyes squeezing shut. You’d known him for who knows how long and he still managed to make you feel like a horny teenager with just one look.

“My perfect wife,” he panted into your neck, heavy cock nudging your deepest parts, you could feel him in your belly, could even see him in your belly, the area below your navel molding just slightly into the shape of his cock every time he would push into you.

Your skin was glowing from the last remnants of sunlight reaching through the gauzey curtains, the ocean waves gentle as they crashed along the shore, wrapping you in a cocoon of pure passion, the current moment so perfect and loving, one of Nanami’s hands snaking into your palm to ground you, the other resting beside your head as he kissed the tender curve of your neck.

He was a warm lover. Caring, romantic, a listener. Someone who focuses on giving instead of stealing pleasure. That’s why it was so easy to give him your trust, to open yourself up to him emotionally, and physically. Someone who easily outshined anyone when it came to choosing who to share your remaining years with.

Your ring fingers clinked together when he pushed into you with a particularly needy thrust, the golden bands once again twining as his fingers curled over your own in a firm lock. “Only yours,” you whimpered out, voice almost breaking from your very vulnerable position, your chest compromised as your legs were propped up, the backs of your thighs fitting against his chest, folding over his shoulders at the knees.

Not only did your words drive him crazy, but the little jingle he would hear every time his hips connected with your own had his eyebrows knitting with some primal need to actually make you his. The bracelet he’d gifted you had ended up clasped around your delicate ankle, the silver charm glinting his initial in the low lights, every little reflection catching his peripheral, spurring him on. You had done it on purpose. You had known he would have you folded sooner or later and you knew how much he loved to mark you, that piece of jewelry a literal signing of his name on you.

Your mouths latched onto each other, hurried kisses ending in heavy breaths against each other’s face or neck, eventually your foreheads being the place of rest as he continued to fuck you with every ounce of energy in his body.

“-love you, s’much,” you murmured, voice lilting with the rising pleasure in your core, his thick length prodding every ridge you had to offer, that spongey spot of nerves catching his head with every pass, eliciting a gasp from your lips, Nanami’s jaw clenching as he held himself back from completely plowing into you, your approaching climax drawing a rush of liquid from your twitching cunt, trickling onto his thighs.

“I love you,” he kissed you this time, his strong hand fisting the sheets beside your head, the other still clutching onto your hand as he knocked the breath from your lungs, his cock feeling like a full-blown spear impaling you, the only thing keeping you sane being his mouth on you, and the sweet-nothings groaned from his lips.

***

It was dark by the time you two had truly finished with each other, your body curled up in Nanami’s lap as he lounged with you on the large chairs placed outside the curtains of your bedroom, the moonlight bouncing off the waves as they continued their trek across the shore.

His nimble fingers traced gentle shapes on your back, your upper body covered by his blue shirt, dwarfing your form in a pool of fabric, Nanami modeling your “half-nakedness” with only a pair of boxers, his strong legs visible to your very sleepy, but eager eyes.

Some type of tropical, cricket creature hummed a pretty song, coaxing your eyelids to flutter, your body sinking further into your husband’s hold, your cheek nestled gently against the soft curves of his collarbone, his heartbeat steady in your ear.

Taking note of your drifting consciousness, Nanami smiled down at your curled up form, fingers slowly letting up on their brief massage session to brace his hold. “Let’s get you to bed,” he murmured, kissing the top of your hair with such tenderness you almost agreed to get up and listen, but he was just so warm and cozy.

Pretending to not hear him, you put on your best sleeping face, mouth opening slightly to really pull it off, the tiniest of snores leaving you in a very convincing manner. Silence followed your antics before a rumble vibrated from the chest of the man you lied on, a soft laugh leaving him as he took in your ‘sleeping state’, a laugh that had your lips twitching, a smile almost breaking out on your face.

“What a shame.. the Mrs. has fallen asleep on me,” he sighed, voice filled with faux sorrow, and when he relaxed back into the chair, you thought the victory was yours, nuzzling back against his chest to comfortably relax again. That was.. before your world was turned upside down, a yelp echoing from your throat as Nanami hoisted you over his shoulder, your bottom cradled by his large hand as he smiled that stupid smile of his and trekked back into the bedroom, all fatigue gone from the two of you, replaced with the teasing air of aching want.

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[majestyeverlasting]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭

Pairing Rockstar!Eddie x Reader | friends -> lovers

Summary Eddie comes back to Hawkins during a break on his national tour, and realizes he lost touch with someone he cares about deeply: you [angst and fluff]

Word Count: 2.7k

Above, a blue sky melts into orange, bearing a falling sun that makes Lover’s Lake shimmer. Tree branches rustle in the breeze. Until Eddie showed up at your door, whispers of his return to Hawkins had been just that. If you were still in the habit of calling each other regularly, you reckon you would’ve been the first to know. There’s no skepticism now, as the two of you sit on the tailgate of a cherry-red F-150. It’d been a gift from him to Wayne that he had on loan for the outing. This is a spot where campervans usually staked out for the view, but the universe must’ve known the evening belonged to you two. 

There were so many things you told yourself you were going to say when he got back from the road, but the words were hard to find. Elation and confliction had decided that your heart would be the grounds for their tug-of-war. Time had a habit of doing that, muddling feelings. Blurring old lines.  

“Does it feel weird?” you ask. They’re the first words you’ve spoken in a while. It takes Eddie a second to realize you’re talking to him. 

He straightens up in apology. “Does what feel weird?” The hole in his jeans gives sight to the bruise on his knee. You study it, imagining the many ways it could’ve formed. Knee-sliding on stage, most likely. 

“Being back in Hawkins,” you say, meeting his gaze. 

The immediate answer that poses itself on the tip of his tongue is no. Then it occurs to him that what you’re really asking is if it feels weird to be back with you. To that, there is no concrete answer. No such thing as black and white. There’s only technicolor when it comes to you, so vivid and complex that he wished it was as simple as a binary. 

“I don’t know if I’d use the word weird.” 

“Different?” you supply. 

He lifts a shoulder. “That’s a little more like it,” he says. “Coming home always is.” 

You hum, twisting the gold bracelet around your wrist. There’s a silver one around his own and his fingers are adorned with bulky steel rings. More tattoos have found a home beneath his skin as well. The longer you study everything new about him, the more a look that hauntingly resembles grief blooms on your face. As if something that once belonged to the two of you had been lost to the passing of time. When the same sense begins to swell within his own chest, he tries to snub it out the best way he knows how, beckoning whatever levity may be waiting in the wings.  

“But a lot of things stayed the same. Like Mike,” he starts. “I thought he would’ve called it quits by the time I got back, but he’s still kicking around at the auto shop. I was more surprised to see him than he was to see me.” 

After teaching Eddie the little his father failed to teach him about cars, Mike Summerdale gave him his first steady job the summer before his senior year. Working at Starcourt hadn’t held up, neither did Family Video or any other ‘boring’ employment. Mike’s Tire & Auto Shop was the only gig he sustained before the world had bigger plans. Eddie was the type who needed to move around, work with his hands, be challenged. Mike was one of the only people who’d been keen enough to discern that. 

Working at the shop not only gave him a sense of stability, but it also gave him you. The evening you came by for a last minute oil change on your parent’s Peugeot 504—ten minutes before closing—was the day he learned you were even funnier and more down to earth than what he’d gathered from within the stuffy halls of Hawkins High. 

A smile starts on your own lips. “He was probably ready to put his best man back to work,” you say. “Your hands are all pretty now.” 

Scoffing, Eddie turns his palms up as if he’s prepared to prove you wrong. There’s calluses on his fingertips from playing guitar, but not much else. His hands are nowhere near as rugged as they were when he was a mechanic. Back when you’d finally had enough of his indifference, you remember getting him a special cream and even rubbing it into his hands yourself when he puppy-dog-eyed his way into it. Some nights, long after you were supposed to have been back at your parents place, you’d be sitting in his living room with the TV glow illuminating your faces as the scent of eucalyptus lingered in the air between you. 

Eddie follows your hand as you reach over to run your fingers over his palm. “If I gave you a socket wrench right now, you probably wouldn’t even know how to use it.” You’re shamelessly teasing him now. It feels good. 

A genuine smile pulls on his lips, eyes brighter as he looks over at you. Even in his amusement, his next words are thoughtful. “Some things you don’t forget.” 

Sobering words, more like. Memories begin to roll in one by one until they avalanche and you can’t help but relieve yourself of the pressure by shoveling it over to him. 

“Do you remember the night we met?” you ask. “After that we were together all the time.” 

Back when time was all you had. Twenty-four hours wasn’t the same anymore. There were more responsibilities to fill it with, different relationships to entertain. For a while, the only thought ticking in your minds was when you’d get to see each other again. When the phone calls stopped, the care never went away. Neither did the curiosity, the stress of not knowing how the other was doing or where they were in the world. Those concerns continued to ring on and on, reverberating down the hallways of want that built themselves within your hearts. 

The rouge tear that streams down your cheek is the pioneer of more to come. Eddie swallows the lump in his throat when he sees it, hand twitching once in his lap. The next time, he doesn’t stop himself from reaching out to wipe your tears with his thumb. It’s a gesture meant to distract him from the fact that he’s the reason behind them. There’s no escaping the tidal wave of guilt that rushes in to drag him out to sea. You sniffle and shake your head to let him know that it’s okay, but his head is already under water. 

“I do remember,” it comes out quiet, thick. “The night we met—everything.” 

“Then what happened? What did I do wrong?” The wind is knocked out of him at that. “I know things changed so fast, but did everything before you left just get resigned to a spot on a timeline? Something for you to talk about to Rolling Stone?”  

Eddie tries to swallow around his guilt, but ends up choking on offense. 

“I never asked for any of this,” he asserts, hopping off the truck bed. “I may’ve begged God when I was a kid, but that’s ‘cause I didn’t know any better,” he says. “You don’t know what it’s been like. You don’t get to suggest that I stopped giving a shit.”

“Then what did you do, Eddie? Because that’s what it feels like.” You don’t mean to raise your voice, but there’s no way to reel it back in.

You can see the moment his stomach drops. It’s in the way his body grows tense, the faint color that rises to his cheeks, the light that wavers in his eyes. “You’ve been right here in Hawkins with all your friends and family three steps away. I’m the one who’s been in a new city every other night, cameras flashing wherever I go.” His voice remains level, but he talks with his hands like he always does. 

“I’ve been on autopilot for the past three months to make it back here with a semblance of sanity. So I’m sorry if I stopped picking up the phone to call. I was too busy trying to breathe with a goddamn elephant on my chest.” He paces away from you to run his hands through his hair. When he faces you again, he looks small. “This is all new to me. If you could just extend some grace.” 

Every word hangs heavy in the space between you. Which feels like miles. Eddie doesn’t huff or move or make any rash decision he’ll regret. He averts his gaze to refocus his attention on the lake. Its stillness feels like a mockery. There’s a dull thud as your feet meet the ground, followed by footsteps as you head into the woods. Despite every inch of you that wants to, you don’t look back. The feeling of his gaze is enough. 

He follows a few minutes after you’ve disappeared. The whole way, he wonders if his words were too harsh, if he’d gone about expressing himself the right way. The earthy crunch of his footsteps are soft as comes up behind you. You’re standing at The tree. The one everyone in Hawkins manages to come across in a lifetime, even if they decide not to leave their mark. The stories you heard about it growing up made it out to be a relic. 

Wound-Bearer was the name it had been given by a man from the class of ‘66, meant to immortalize the proof of love, romantic and platonic. Or at least bear a sign that it once existed. Looking at it now, more initials had been added since you and Eddie contributed to it your senior year. The carving stood out more than the rest, not because it was particularly noticeable or impressive, but because it was yours. Eddie stops a few paces away and spots it in seconds as he looks over your shoulder. 

Both of you hold your breath until you give in. 

“I didn’t mean to sound selfish. I’ve just been scared, Eddie.” You’re ashamed as you turn around to face him. “Scared that you didn’t want to talk anymore. That our friendship was fading away,” you say, scoffing a second later. “Now I sound like we’re in a movie.” 

A tenderness settles in his eyes that you don’t believe you deserve. “Our lives are a fucking movie,” he says, breathing out a chuckle. 

Things began to take off after he got scouted by the agent who’d flown out from California to visit family. You remember the dreams that had filled your head, each one of them somehow including you—you tagging along on the road, sitting front row at his shows, being right off camera during interviews. Reality proved itself to be nowhere near as sweet as your imagination. Later, when he signed to a label and was set for a national tour, the sacrifices of the limelight revealed themselves as pressing and real. 

Joining him in that new stage of his life meant leaving everything you’d ever known, bypassing university, being subject to thousands of eyes that just wanted to gawk. That’s why the day he left Hawkins was the day he left you behind. Even in his own mind, you not being his personal assistant was for the better. Him losing a sense of stability to chase his dreams didn’t mean you should be strapped to his side and subject to the same. 

At least you had a shot at creating a nice life for yourself. You were smart, talented, and someone worth building a life with. Music was all he had going. Leaving Hawkins was his only shot and it meant walking through the fire. 

A surprised sound escapes him when you crowd into his space to wrap your arms around him like he’s a soldier home from war. It’s the same type of hug Wayne had given him earlier that afternoon. It felt like love, like safety, like home. He melts into you, and the two of you stand like this until you remember that embraces aren’t meant to last forever. 

•••

Tonight, Eddie Munson takes it slow for the first time in his life. The speed limit signs on the side of the road dare him to go their limit. There’s hardly anybody on the roads to give him trouble for it either. It’s nice, the long way home always is. The radio plays low as the warm night air flows in through the widows. Eddie drives with his right hand, left arm hanging outside the truck. 

“Fuck, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he grouses as he brakes for a stop sign. There’s enough earnestness in his voice to make you startle as you track his gaze. 

On the opposite side of the street, the old location for Scoot’s Scoops sits idle with boarded windows and a dimmed sign. 

You heave a sigh. “They just relocated,” you assure, rubbing your chest to calm down. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Eddie’s eyes are apologetic as he looks over at you. “I damn near had one myself. Sorry.” He reaches over to squeeze your thigh before his brain catches up to his body. It’s a fleeting touch that warms your entire being and stuns you into a brief stillness as if he was electric. 

He shifts in his seat and clears throat. “Maybe we can go to the new location tomorrow. Get some ice cream.” 

You blink a few times, mind still fuzzy. “Yeah, that’d be fun.” 

The remainder of the ride is quiet. When he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex, you’re swift to gather your things into your lap, still buzzing. “Thanks for the ride back,” you say, biting on your lower lip as a loud silence stretches. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

He wants to walk you to your door, but he fears he’s already overstepped. “Yup. G’night.” 

Eddie curses under his breath as the door snaps shut behind you. After running a hand down his face, a tube lipstick catches his attention in the passenger seat. It takes him a few seconds to grab it and follow after you. By then, you’ve already made it inside and up the short flight of stairs. When the door of the complex closes behind him, it cuts off a cacophony chirping insects. 

Upon making it to the second floor, there’s something intimate about seeing you standing under the dim, humming lights fiddling with your keys. It isn’t until you get the door open that you regard him. 

His smile is sheepish, unlike him in every way. “You forgot this.” He reads the label as if he hadn’t committed it to memory during his short trip up the stairs, “Strawberry Crush, New Hydrating Formula.” A boyish smile buds on his face as he holds it out to you. 

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much.” Contrary to your words, there’s no inflection of surprise in your tone as you take it from him. Forgetting hadn’t been a mistake. His eyes flit inside to get a glimpse of your apartment. “Maybe I can give you a proper tour tomorrow after ice cream,” you offer. 

Eddie shoves his hands into his pockets. “Sure, I’m down.”

He waits until you’re inside to walk back to his truck. You rush to peep out your living room window to watch him climb into the truck. He doesn’t pull away like you expect him to. Instead, he stays parked. Headlights shining, attracting moths and other flying things. The urge to see him one last time overpowers your better judgment in a fight that lasts all of five seconds. 

In record time, you’re back outside. He rolls down his window as you approach. 

“Forget something else?” 

“I did, actually.”

You rest your forearms on the window sill and he instinctively leans towards you, warm eyes searching your face trying to get a read. In another life, he sees your next move coming. In this one, it seems too good to be true: a kiss as soft as they come to the sounds of the night.

-

Any and all interaction appreciated. I see you <3

[asoiaf-bambii]

𝔇ornish 𝔅ride

summary: Prince Jacaerys is sent to Dorne to secure their support in exchange for a marriage alliance during the dance of the dragons.

paring: jacaerys velaryon x martell!reader

Jacaerys Velaryon squinted into the sunlight, the wind whipping at his dark brown hair as he flew high above the scorched sands of the Dornish desert, riding his dragon Vermax. The sky over Dorne was cloudless, a vivid expanse of blue stretching from horizon to horizon, with the heat of the sun baking the land below.

The journey to Sunspear had been swift by dragon, much faster than any raven could carry the messages of war. Queen Rhaenyra needed allies desperately, and Dorne—with its vast army and formidable independence—was a prize she could not afford to overlook.

His thoughts were heavy as Vermax descended towards the palace of Sunspear, nestled in the heart of Dorne. The Martells were proud, notoriously independent from the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. But Dorne was also practical, and the offer of a marriage to a royal of Targaryen blood might sway them. Jacaerys had never been one to shy away from his duties, but the weight of this mission pressed on him. It was not just about war—it was about securing the future of his family.

The landing was gentle as Vermax touched down in the gardens of Sunspear, the dragon’s large claws sinking into the sandy soil. Jacaerys dismounted with a swift motion, his boots hitting the ground as he glanced around, taking in the surroundings. The gardens were lush, a stark contrast to the barren sands beyond. Palm trees swayed in the breeze, their long leaves casting dappled shadows on the ground, while bright flowers bloomed in vibrant reds, oranges, and purples. It was a place of beauty, but the underlying tension of the political situation was not lost on him.

He stood tall, adjusting the strap of his sword as he waited. He could hear the distant sound of horses approaching, their hooves beating a steady rhythm on the stone paths leading to the palace. Jacaerys knew that this moment, the negotiations he was about to undertake, could shift the balance of power in the war. The Greens had secured their own alliances through marriage, and if the Dornish armies joined Rhaenyra’s cause, it could be enough to turn the tide.

Soon enough, the riders appeared. At the head of the group was Lord Qoren Martell, the ruler of Dorne, a tall and imposing figure with olive skin and a serious expression. His presence was commanding, but it was the figure beside him that captured Jacaerys’ attention.

The woman riding at Prince Qoren’s side was striking, her beauty impossible to ignore. Her dark eyes gleamed with intelligence, and her long, thick black hair fell in soft ringlets around her face. She wore a deep red entari, the luxurious fabric adorned with gold embroidery that glittered in the sunlight. Over the gown, she wore a flowing kaftan, cinched at the waist with a golden belt that highlighted her graceful figure. Her skin was warm, bronzed by the Dornish sun, and her jewellery—rings, bracelets, and a necklace set with emeralds—caught the light as she moved.

This had to be Princess Y/N Martell.

Jacaerys had heard of her—fiery, intelligent, and politically astute, Y/N was said to be a woman who knew her own worth and was unafraid to wield power. As she dismounted with a fluid grace, handing the reins of her horse to one of the guards, Jacaerys found himself watching her with a mix of curiosity and admiration.

“Prince Jacaerys Velaryon,” Prince Qoren greeted him, his voice deep and measured as he stepped forward. “Welcome to Sunspear.”

Jacaerys inclined his head in a respectful nod. “Lord Qoren. I thank you for your hospitality.”

Qoren’s eyes flickered towards Vermax, who stood behind Jacaerys, the dragon’s golden-green eyes watching the exchange with eerie calm. “A dragon is a rare sight in Dorne,” Qoren remarked. “But I trust you did not come here simply to display your power, Prince Jacaerys.”

Jacaerys met the man’s gaze evenly. “I come on behalf of my mother, Queen Rhaenyra. The war has already begun, and we seek the aid of Dorne. In return, my mother offers an alliance bound through marriage.”

There was a brief pause as Qoren considered this, his expression unreadable. “Marriage,” he repeated, his tone neutral.

At his side, Princess Y/N stepped forward, her dark eyes studying Jacaerys with open curiosity. “And who, pray tell, is to be offered in this alliance?” Her voice was smooth, laced with amusement, as though the entire concept of marriage negotiations was a game to her.

Jacaerys turned his attention to her, meeting her gaze directly. “That is to be decided. I stand ready to marry, as do my younger brothers. The decision would rest with your family, should you choose to align with us.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a slow smile, the kind that hinted at hidden thoughts. “And what do you know of Dornish women, Prince Jacaerys?” she asked, her tone almost playful. “Do you truly believe one of us would be content to marry simply for the sake of war?”

Jacaerys raised an eyebrow, surprised by her forwardness. “I do not presume to know the minds of Dornish women, Princess,” he replied. “But I do know that the realm faces dark days. A union between our houses could bring strength to both.”

Her eyes gleamed with something close to approval. “You are bold, Prince. I admire that.”

Prince Qoren, however, was less easily impressed. “Dorne has never bent the knee to the Iron Throne,” he said, his voice firm. “We fought for our independence and will not give it up easily, even for a marriage.”

Jacaerys stood his ground. “I do not ask for your submission, my lord. Only your support. Dorne’s armies are formidable, and together, we could end this war swiftly. My mother’s rule would be secure, and Dorne’s influence in the realm would grow.”

There was a long silence, broken only by the rustling of the palm trees and the distant calls of birds. Jacaerys could feel the weight of their decision pressing down on him, but he remained calm, knowing that this was a battle of words and wills.

Finally, it was Y/N who spoke. “You offer much, Prince Jacaerys,” she said, her voice soft but clear. “But Dorne does not act without thought. We will consider your offer… and perhaps, in time, we may find that a marriage between us is not so unfavourable.”

Her words were careful, but there was a spark of interest in her eyes that Jacaerys did not miss. He inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement, a silent agreement that there was much more to discuss.

Prince Qoren nodded as well, though his expression remained guarded. “Come,” he said, turning towards the palace. “We will discuss these matters further. It is not a decision to be made lightly.”

As they walked through the shaded pathways of the garden towards the palace, Y/N fell into step beside Jacaerys. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, her lips curving into a slight smile.

“You’ve impressed my father,” she murmured, her tone laced with amusement. “That is not an easy feat.”

Jacaerys glanced at her, his own smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “And what of you, Princess? Have I impressed you?”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. “Perhaps,” she replied, her dark eyes gleaming. “But I am not so easily swayed by titles and dragons, Prince Jacaerys.”

He met her gaze, intrigued by the challenge in her words. “Then what does sway you, Princess?”

Her smile widened, full of mystery and flirtation. “That, Your Grace, is something you will have to discover for yourself.”

Jacaerys chuckled, though he could feel the weight of her words settle over him. Princess Y/N was not a woman to be taken lightly. She was clever, sharp-tongued, and fiercely independent—qualities that both intrigued and unsettled him. But he knew that securing Dorne’s support was not simply about marriage or politics. It was about earning the respect of a people who had never bent the knee and about understanding the woman who now stood before him as a potential ally, and perhaps more.

As they entered the cool stone corridors of Sunspear, Jacaerys knew that the negotiations were far from over. There was much to be discussed, much to be decided. But as he glanced at Y/N, her dark eyes filled with intelligence and fire, he realised that his journey to Dorne would be far more complex—and far more important—than he had first imagined.

Perhaps, just perhaps, he was not only forging an alliance for his mother but also discovering a path that could shape his own future.

[specialagentlokitty]

Klaus x reader - just a smile

Hey, i was wondering if i could request a Klaus Mikaelson x human!reader and the reader is depressed and also ignored by her friends (elena, stefan damon ect) and klaus sees it, sees her and kinda brings her out of her depression if thats okay? Thank you 🤎 - Anon💜

TW: mentions of depression

Sitting in the diner, you had your chin on your hand, staring at your phone waiting for it to ring.

“Hello Love.”

You jumped a little bit, and you looked at the seat in front of you.

Klaus sat down, setting two glasses down and you looked at the one that he had placed down in front of you before turning your attention back to him.

“If you don’t want it that’s fine. I just want to talk is all.”

You glanced at your phone again before putting it back into your pocket.

“Whatever it is I’m not interested in it Klaus.”

Standing up, you tossed some cash in his direction.

“For the drink.”

Stuffing your hands into your pockets you made your way back outside and towards your car, fully aware the vampire was following you.

“Wait! Wait.”

Klaus gently grabbed your wrist, and he walked over you, still carefully holding you but giving you room to pull away if you wanted too.

“I know it’s your birthday, I just wanted to give you something.”

Klaus reached into his pocket with his other hand and pulled out a small box, placing it in your palm and he let go.

You looked at it a little confused.

“Have a little faith love. I would never hurt anybody on their own birthday, it’s a gift, for you.”

You slowly took the lid of the box, setting it on the front of the car, and you looked at the beautiful bracelet inside.

“I know you’ve been wanting it, you asked your friends for it for your birthday, they never showed up to celebrate with you.”

Klaus reached inside, taking the bracelet he took the box and set it aside.

Turning back around, Klaus held your arm out, carefully clasping the bracelet around your wrist.

“Beautiful.” He smiled.

You cracked a small smile, admiring the designs and the patterns on it.

Lifting your gaze, you looked at the original vampire, giving him a smile.

“Thank you…”

Klaus glanced at his phone, putting it back away.

“There’s still time, I have one more gift for you if I may.”

“Okay.”

Klaus took the box and put it back into his pocket, and he held his hand out for the keys of your car and you handed them over.

He drove you just out of town, and when he got out of the car you did as well, trailing behind of him without that much worry.

Klaus led you up a small hill, and he slowly sat down, so you sat down with him.

The trees in the distance were all surrounded in beautiful white lights, and on the lake were lantern boats softly drifting.

“I know you don’t enjoy large shows of affection, or large celebrations, it’s why unlike your friends you are never forced to attend any of my events. But I know you enjoy the simple things.”

“This is simple?”

Klaus chuckled a little bit.

“It is for me. But May I ask something?”

“Yeah.”

Klaus turned his head towards you.

“Why did you agree to come with me? You know whom I am, you know what I have done. You know I could have easily thought you here to kill you.”

“Yeah, I do know all of that.”

Klaus sighed.

“I know you have depression, I know your so called friends ignore you and pretend you are not real.”

“So?”

Klaus got up, standing in front of you and he held out his hand towards you, giving you a charming smile.

“Let me treat you the way you are supposed to be treated, let me show you there is a whole world out there just for you.”

You sighed.

“Just give me the chance.”

“This could be a ploy to get close to the others.”

“Perhaps, or perhaps I’m being genuine but you will never know until you take the chance.”

You smiled, placing your hand on his.

“Alright, fine.”

To you, there wasn’t anything to lose. If he killed you you’d be dead, it wouldn’t matter to you, if he didn’t then you might have a friend who cared about you.

Either one seemed like a good outcome to you.

Everyday Klaus would meet you at the diner, he would buy you dinner and just talk to you about your day.

Even after months he still showed interest in you, learning about you, just content and happy to spend time with you.

Sitting on the roof of your garage, you looked down at the street to the vampire who waved at you.

“Care for company?” Klaus asked.

“Yeah I’d like that.”

He smiled, jumping up, he easily pulled himself up and he walked over, dropping himself next to you.

He looked at you and he furrowed his brows a little bit.

“What’s wrong love?”

“Just a bad day I guess…”

Klaus leant against the wall, and you placed your head on his shoulder, watching as he took your hand in his, running his thumb along your knuckles.

It made you smile a little bit.

“Tell me all about it.”

So you did, you told Klaus all about your day and what had happened and he sat there listening.

“I see, May I offer some advice?”

“Yeah…”

“You are incredible, you deserve so much more. And you want to know a secret?”

You lifted your head, turning around to face him and he smiled softly at you.

“They don’t deserve somebody as kind as you…” he whispered.

He leant forward, kissing your forehead and you smiled, closing your eyes.

“You have a beautiful smile, and a beautiful soul. And I have seen you grow so much happier recently, that’s all I want for you. For you to be happy.”

He smiled, and you smiled back.

“Now, I believe I promise to show you how to paint, did I not?”

“You absolutely did.”

“Come along then.”

He got up, jumping down he stood there and waited for you to lower yourself before he held his arms up, gently taking your waist, lowering you to the floor.

Klaus laced his fingers with yours and you looked up at him.

“No amount of art will ever compare to you.” He said.

You laughed a little, letting him lead you to his car.

Klaus smiled as he opened the door for you.

You were radiant, stunning, and you had such a kind soul.

And despite everything Klaus had ever done, he couldn’t find it in his cold heart to hurt you, all he wanted to do was make you smile and let you be happy

[saltyfreejewelry]

Discover the ultimate fashion guide on how to wear and style a cuff bracelet. Explore tips and techniques for pairing cuff bracelets with different outfits, layering them for a chic look, and choosing styles that complement your personal fashion. Whether you're dressing up for an event or adding a touch of elegance to your everyday wear, this guide will help you make the most of your cuff bracelet.

[asherthehimbo]

Listen to my music, listen to your heart

previous | fifteen : the sun is still a star, no matter the time of day| m. list | next

notes: warnings, death, grief, domestic violence, physical abuse, verbal abuse, injuries (broken arm plus some bruised ribs), overworked kid, homophobia, mentions of religion, not too much though, bestings, sibling hate, love, self doubt, brief mention of starvation, this is a dark one guys, we HATE mr. Lee trust.

word count: 8. 4k

The two boys sit on the picnic blanket in the shade of the big tree in their favorite park, little snacks and toys littered around them as they play. The elder of the two silently making a bracelet out of flowers he’s collected as the younger plays with the sunlight. Hand moving in and out from the shade as he giggles. “Warm” he says as his hand is extended, before retracting it back into the shade of the tree “and cold!”

“Are you having fun with the sun Channie?” the older boy giggles as he looks at his friend briefly before focusing back on the creation in his hands. “Yeah it’s really fun! Like when my hand is outside the shade it's warm, but when it's inside it's cold again! Come on Bubbles, try it!” Chan's hand reaches for [Name]’s before pulling it out into the sun and retracting it again. “See? The sun keeps us warm!” Chan says as he drops [Names]’s hand. “Mhm, the sun keeps us warm, but too much of it can also hurt us yaknow?” he says softly.

“So? It’s pretty and makes me feel nice! It’s not hurting us on purpose! The sun is nice! It’s like you!” Chan smiles at [Name]. “Like me?” [Name] asks softly as he looks at Chan surprised. “Yeah! It's warm and cozy like when you hug me! And it makes me feel nice like you do when you compliment me! It also makes it light outside like when you help me through the dark hallway’s on sleepovers, and it’s pretty and bright like when you smile!” Chan's words are like an arrow right through [Name]s heart. The six year old is pretty mature for his age, and he thinks that the warm feeling blossoming in his chest now is similar to what they call love in the movies.

“Hm.. so I’m your sun?” [Name] asks as he looks at Chan smile, Chan nods his head and [Name] speaks again, “Will you be my moon then?” Chan tilts his head confusedly “Yaknow being my light in the night? Something that stands out in the dark sky?” At the elders' words Chan nods his head excitedly before reaching out his pinky. “Let’s promise!”, [Name] interlocks his pinky with Chan before striking out his thumb as Chan connects their thumbs. “It's locked in!” [Name] giggles.

Poor kids, didn’t they know? The sun may be bright but it’s burning everything around it, it’s overheating and burning itself with no way of stopping. The sun may be beautiful, but so is destruction, truly wonderful that a child's innocence allows them to remain unaware of this fact. At least they can enjoy this wonderful moment, lest it be their last.

—--------------

Stepping up to the door of your apartment, Chan could feel his heart beating out of his chest. His palms sweaty and clammy, his breathing almost erratic as he tries to control it. He’s shifting on his legs as he debates ringing the doorbell. Before he got here his mind was racing with questions so loud he couldn’t even hear the outside world, but now its so achingly silent he feels like he could go insane. He takes a deep breath again before eventually ringing the doorbell, he’s looking down at his feet- he’s not sure if he can actually face you because he knows if he looks in your eyes he’d crumble.

The door opens and he can hear your breath hitch but he doesn't care he does, he walks past you, no greeting audible as he keeps his head down. Walking into the familiar living room before sitting down on the couch, fiddling with his hands. You silently follow him, your mind a whirlwind of its own. You stand before him before you open your mouth “Channie I-” “Don’t just, don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that, not right now. I want answers, I want to know why you didn’t think I was good enough?” Chan finally looks up at you, his eyes are red and brimmed with tears and his lip is quivering. Your heart shatters and you immediately lower yourself onto your knees so you’re eye-level with him.

You gently take his face in your hands and wipe away the tears that fall with your thumb, forcing him to finally meet your eyes, “No, no it's not like that Channie. I promise you it will never be like that. You’re good enough, you’re better than good enough- it’s just. I couldn't be selfish and sacrifice the happiness of everyone around me just so that I could be with you. Trust me I wanted to, fuck I wanted to be with you so bad, I want to be with you so bad but I- Chan it would be so wrong of me. The happiness of you, of my family would be taken away because of that and I can’t bring myself to do that to you, to them” Your voice is barely above a whisper but it’s filled with deep emotion that Chan has never heard from you.

“How? How would us being together influence the happiness of others, of your family? Why do you think it would hurt me?” Chan's lips are wobbling as he speaks, his voice desperate. “It’s a long story Channie I don’t- I don’t want you to see anyone differently because of it. I don’t want to ruin others' perception of what they know by sharing it.” You say sympathetically.

“Please, I deserve the truth, after everything we’ve been through I want to- I need to know” He grips your hands that rest on his cheeks. “I- okay do you remember when we were really young? Like right before Olivia was born, me, Rachel and Lix went to live with my granddad for a while yeah?” You ask softly and Chan nod’s. “Okay so there’s a reason for that, it wasn’t just cause my mom needed some alone time uhm”

At the age of six, bones break as easily as sticks

“And then they stwepped on the wainbow wight?” Little four year old Rachel says to her younger brother who listens intently. Two year old Felix laying on his stomach as he looks wide eyes to his big sister, head nodding at her words, both toddlers are sitting on the soft playmat in the livingroom. Behind Rachel sits the eldest Lee child, gently styling his sister's hair into twin braids to the best of his six year old capabilities. “Okway so then-” his sisters retelling of one of her new favorite Barbie movie is cut short when their mother walks into the room, she smiles softly at her three children as she walks to them, one hand on her back as the other rests on her pregnant belly, her bump just barely visible. “Hm, [Name] dearest we’re gonna go visit Granddad okay? A sleepover isn't that fun?” The two youngest kids start giggling and cheering but the eldest looks at his mother wearily, her smile seems strained and he can see what looks to be a bruise forming around the wrist that's behind her back. “Can you take your siblings upstairs and help them pack for me baby?” her words are directed at the eldest as he nods.

He silently stands up, picking up his younger brother, securing him on his hip before taking his sister's hand and walking out of the living room up the stairs to their bedrooms. He has a sinking feeling in his stomach, it's bad and dark and he doesn’t like it, it makes him nauseous but he doesn't say anything. Instead he follows his mothers orders, wanting to make any and everything easier for her in her current state. After a while as he’s ensured he’s packed everything needed for him and his siblings he walks back down the stars, only now the closer he gets to the living room, the louder he hears the voices of his parents. The sinking feeling gets darker and he feels weak, like he’s crumbling under the shadow monster festering in his stomach, he puts Felix down in fear that he’d drop him. Placing their bags by the stairs and his two siblings next to one another, “Stay here okay? Big brother is just gonna go check on momma” he says softly and after the two nodded he walks silently to the living room.

“YOU CAN’T JUST FUCKING TAKE MY CHILDREN AWAY FROM ME” he hears his fathers muffled voice scream through the door, anger evident. “I CAN’T HAVE MY CHILDREN STAY HERE WITH YOU IF YOU KEEP THIS UP” his mothers voice is desperate, he silently opens the living room door as he looks at them. His father seems frazzled, button up shirt a mess as it's rolled up by his arms, hair sticking every direction as the vein in his forehead pops in the way it always does when he's mad. His mother is practically shaking as she stands on the other side of the couch, in front of the glass coffee table that [Name] knows they’ll have to baby proof again soon once his mother gives birth.

‘KEEP THIS UP? I AM DOING NOTHING BUT CARE FOR MY FAMILY” his father states angrily as he walks closer to his wife. “YOU AREN'T, CARING FOR THEM DOESN'T MEAN HITTING YOUR SON SO HARD YOUR HAND IS IMPRINTED ON HIS BACK JUST BECAUSE HE WANTED TO SPEND TIME WITH HIS FRIEND. CARING FOR THEM DOESN'T MEAN GOING OUT AND SLEEPING WITH SOMEONE ELSE. YOU AREN'T CARING FOR THEM, YOU’RE ABUSING THEM!” his mother screams and her words seem to snap something in his father.

What happens next is almost in slow motion, his father moves forward fast and pushes his mother in a fit of rage, unluckily [Name] is faster as he opens the door and bolts for his mother. Without thinking he gets behinds her, wrapping his little arms around her back as they’re gently placed on her stomach, he feels the table beneath him shatter, he feels the tiny pieces of glass sticking into his back, his head hurts and he think he’s landed wrong because his one arm is bent weirdly. The rest is kind of blurry to him, he hears his father scream, blaming him for being in the way, he hears his mother crying, asking if he’s okay and muttering apologies. He hears the shuffle of little feet as his younger siblings rush into the room, and his only thought is that he hopes they didn’t see anything. That his mother and his unborn sibling are safe.

When he wakes up to a very bright light, his whole body hurts and for a moment his eyes can’t focus correctly, he goes to use his arm as a way to block the bright light but is met with a big white cast. “[Name]? Are you awake my boy?” The voice of his grandpa speaks from his side, but it feels wrong. His grandpa’s voice is always happy and upbeat, loud and able to warm up any room, only now it sounds worried, soft even. He turns his head to his grandfather, ignoring the headache before he asks “Are they okay?” his grandpa looks confused, “Is who okay my boy?” “Mom, mom and the baby, are they okay?” his grandpa's lips seem to draw into a line before he answers, “Yes. Yes, they’re fine, they’re talking to your doctor right now. Everyones here, the Bahngs too, we’ve all been worried for you” [Name] looks at him confused, “what do you mean? Why is everyone here?” he asks as he tries to sit up, wincing at the pain in his ribs.

“Hey hey don’t try to move too much, you've got a few bruised ribs there, your back is pretty torn up too” his grandpa states, and the boy just nods. “You've been asleep for about a whole day my boy, when you were brought in last night you went into surgery for about 4 hours before being put on heavy anesthesia, doctors said your injuries aren’t too extreme so when you wake up and they’ve deemed it safe you can go home, but you do have a concussion, now before your mom gets in here want to tell me what really happened? Cuz I don’t believe the story of your mom just slipping and you happened to be in the way” the boy only moves his face to the other side of the room, he knows he can’t lie to his grandpa but he doesn't want to tell him the truth either. “Now come on-” his grandpa’s words are cut off as his name is screamed and people rush into the room, his mom, then his two little siblings. The little body of his sister jumping onto the bed, despite the pain he chuckles as she hugs him.

“Hey, Rache sweetie you’re hurting your brother” his grandfather states as his mom places kisses all over his face, muttering apologies as his youngest brother is sat by his feet, holding onto his leg. People start slowly shuffling into the room, Chan is first as he rushes to his best friends side and for a moment [Names] eyes light up happy to see his friend, until his father walks into the room and his face drops, he practically ignores Chan as he feels his fathers eyes on him. “Excuse me, I need to do a check up on him now that he’s awake, all this attention isn’t good right now could everyone move out please?” the doctor speaks as she walks into the room, checking some of the machines next to [Name]. A moment of silence passes as the people start to shuffle out without hesitance, “Can uhm- can Grandpa stay?” [Name] speaks softly, the doctor's eyes soften before nodding. “Yeah, one person staying won't hurt,” she replies.

As she checks over him and [Name] answers all her questions truthfully as he sips water for his dry throat he can feel his grandpa’s curious eyes on him. “Can we stay with you when I get out? Only until mom gives birth” [Name] asks his grandfather hesitantly, as the elder man's eyes soften, “Yeah bud, your moms already planned for you three to come visit me for a while, she needs some time, fourth pregnancy is hitting her hard she said” his grandfather replied, he nods his head as he continues to fiddle with the cap of the water bottle in his hand. The next 30 or so weeks would hopefully be calm for him and his siblings, but he doesn't know what will happen after that, when he gets back home. He’s scared of what his father will do.

At the age of ten, you realize you'll never see your childhood again

“Come on Bubbles, let's play!” Chan says excitedly to the older boy as he stands in the doorway of the study room in the Lee family home, Felix standing behind him as the young boy holds onto the back of Chan’s shirt as he looks at his older brother. “I can't right now Channie, I have to study, maybe later?” The elder says as he sits at his desk, books all around him, pens scattered around. His hair has grown a bit longer than it was when he was younger, it’s almost past his ears. Chan groans a bit at the elders' response “Come on you’ve been studying all day” [Name] sighs at Chan's words, “I'm sorry Channie I just need to finish this, I'll be out later okay?” he says softly. Chan’s dejected face breaks his heart but he can’t afford to not study, not after what his father had done to him last time.

“Okay well we’ll be outside then..” Chan says softly as he turns around, Felix following him, not before giving his older brother a little wave and a small smile. They close the door behind them, leaving [Name] alone with his own thoughts. He turns his attention back to the notes in front of him but he can’t think anymore, his vision is blurry as tears line his eyes, the sting of staring at the books all day is giving him a migraine. He leans back a moment, massaging his head, but it doesn't help. His stomach grumbles a bit, reminding him he hasn’t eaten since breakfast but he pays it no mind, he knows if he goes out of this room now his father wouldn’t be happy. Instead he just takes a sip of the water bottle on his desk before sitting upright and continuing his studying. Wiping the tears lining his eyes when they would form.

Time like this passed by quickly, before he knew it the only light in the room had come from his lamp, the sun had set and the moon, at the end of her phase had brought little light through the window. [Name] could no longer hear the giggles of his younger siblings and friends outside. There was some commotion inside the house a while ago, when the family had dinner, he heard voices clearly when his mother had opened the door to bring him food. The warm smile she gave him would've been comforting if not for the sympathy swirling in her eyes. Ever since the accident she had yet to look at him the same, he guesses that's because he had only moved back home recently, only because his grandpa was sick and couldn't care for him alone anymore so they had to move back.

The life he had tried so hard to forget quickly came back to him, and he couldn't stop it. He couldn't tell anyone, that would only make it worse. He thinks his grandfather knows, or at least suspects something, he always does. But the man isn't as strong and happy as he used to be. He can't protect [Name] anymore, but that's okay, this time [Name] will just have to protect him, protect all of them.

He stares at his plate of uneaten food, he forgot about it, and with the anxiety bubbling in his stomach he doesn't have too much of an appetite. Despite his hunger just the thought of consuming the food made him want to vomit. He couldn't do this anymore, just sit here in the silence, his head throbbing with pain as he tries to hold back tears. So he stands up, he opens the door softly, and when he doesn't hear commotion he closes it again, only now he's outside the room of nightmares.

Softly he drags himself up the stairs to his grandfather's room, he walks past the rooms of his siblings as he hears soft giggles echo from them. He wants so badly to stop, to join them, any of them, to laugh with them, but he can't, he can't face them like this. So he continues to walk slowly, opening the door and seeing his grandfather sitting on his bed, back leaning against the headrest as he holds a book, his glasses at the bottom of his nose, he looks up at the door and smiles. Almost as if he's expecting his dearest grandson. He puts down the book, along with his reading glasses and opens his arms.

He doesn't say a word, but [Name] is thankful, he lets the tears that well in his eyes fall as he closes the door, or at least he believes he does. He rushes to his grandfather's side, immediately sobbing as he clings to the elder man. His grandfather's arms around him have always been comforting, the soft flesh surrounding him like a protective blanket. It wasn't like being wrapped in the bony arms of his mother, caused by the starvation his father put her through, when she would cry to him about not being able to protect him. It wasn't like the hard muscle or his fathers arms that would put force behind each beating he received. No, his grandfather was soft, he was accepting.

“Shh., it's okay my boy, I'm here, it's okay you can rest now” His grandfather whispers as he pats the boy's head. “It hurts grandpa, it hurts so much” [Name] sobs as he curls more into his grandfather. “What hurts my boy?” he asks softly. “Everything, my head, it hurts from studying all day, it's so painful. I just want it to stop, everything hurts. My heart hurts, my chest burns. I just want to play with them. I just want to play with him. Why can't I play with him, Grandpa? Why aren't I allowed to?” the little boy's body shakes as he sobs, and it's at times like these that he's reminded this is exactly what he is. A little boy, a child.

“Who is it you wish to play with my dear boy?” his grandfather asks, although he already knows the answer, but the young mind listening in on their conversation doesn't, and his grandfather intends to give him that knowledge. “Channie.. I just want to play with Channie again… I miss him Grandpa, I miss him so much. He's always right there, but I can't - I cant-” the boy can't finish his words as he continues to choke on his own tears. His Grandfather just simply sushes him, rubbing his back in a comforting manner, becoming acutely aware of the bumps or raised skin he can feel through the thin shirt on his grandson's back.

It's a while of this, continuing until the boy has stopped crying, his tears still falling but his breathing is more stable now, his eyes are shut as he drifts off. He's always been a heavy sleeper after he's cried. It's this fact that causes his grandfather to act as he does. “You can come in Chan” he says, and the boy looking through the crack in the doorway yelps at being noticed. He slowly opens the door, eyes only on his sleeping friend. “You knew I was here?“ He asks softly as he walks closer, “I always do my boy” the old man smiles at him.

“Is Bubbles gonna be okay? “ Chan looks up at the elderly male, before looking back down at his friend in worry. “He will be, one day…. but until that day comes I need you to promise me something Chan, can you do that?” Chan nods his head frantically and the old man chuckles. “One day, one day when I'm not here anymore, will you take care of him for me?” Chan looks confused “you're leaving?” his voice is hesitant. “No, no not anytime soon, but one day I might have to… will you promise me you'll take care of him then?” Chan nods again, a smile on his face “mhm! I'll do everything I can to protect him”

“that's good my boy, thank you… thank you for giving an old man some peace of mind”

At the age of sixteen is when you realize the world is awfully mean

It was one of the rare days in the Lee household that everyone [Name] loved was in the same place. His father was gone on a business trip and his mother is currently out grocery shopping, leaving only him and his sibling home alone with their grandfather for the day. Chan had decided to tag along, hanging out at the Lee house under the guise of ‘studying’.

So now, sitting in the big study room, some of his siblings spread out at their own desks around him, some up in their rooms, knowing his grandfather was up in the house as well, he felt at peace. It's a strange feeling for him, being at peace, especially recently. His grandfather's state has rapidly been declining in the last few months, the stress it's put the family in causing his father to act out. Push and punish him more, spend more nights away from home, leaving his mother to mourn the loss of their relationship as it was before.

He hates having to hear his mother cry due to his fathers infidelity, the man so easily breaking the trust of his soulmate, it's broken his belief in soulmates and that brings an empty feeling to his stomach, makes bile crawl up his throat because he's sixteen now. It's about time he gets his soulbond, he tries to push the thoughts away, really he does, but they keep coming back to him. He can't even focus on the pages in front of him.

All he can think about is his soulbond, and the fact that Chan’s music is awfully loud. Like seriously he's sitting across the room and wearing headphones how has no one else asked him to turn down his volume, lest his eardrums burst. “Channie? Your music’s a bit loud, isn’t it hurting your ears?” he asks softly, Felix gives him a confusing look from the side of the room as Chan looks up at him, lifting one of his ear cups off his ears as he pauses his music. “Huh? It’s not that loud though..” Chan mumbles at the same time that Felix says “I can’t even hear it, your ears must be really good Hyung!”. [Name] looks between to two boys, before shaking his head and standing up, “Im- im sorry I think I have have just been studying too hard, i'm going to the kitchen” he shakes his head almost as if he’s disoriented, ignores the worries mumbles of his brother and friend as he walks out of the room.

Something is incredibly wrong as he stands in the kitchen. His half drunk glass of water forgotten as it stands on the island before him, his hands grip the sides of the counter as he feels his head throb, as if spikes are piercing it. Worst of all, he can still hear Chan's music, and he knows that's not right because Chan is in another room, he is wearing headphones, [Name] can still hear his voice as well, this shouldn't be possible. His ears are hurting, it feels like his eardrums are going to burst. He has a burning sensation on the side of his hip, and before he knows it the pain makes his legs give out beneath him.

He sits there on the ground, trying to think, biting his bottom lip, until it starts bleeding, in an effort to keep quiet, an effort to ground himself. He sits on the floor of the kitchen, he doesn't know how long, it must have been at least 10 minutes until the pain in his side subsides, his headache now a dull throb and not blinding pain. He takes a moment to breathe, the music in his head now a soft hum almost like a comforting lullaby. He doesn't know what happened, and he tries to think, think of any and all possibili- oh. oh. As he slightly lifts up his shirt on instinct, looking at where the pain was, he now sees a tattoo. A little music note with the letter ‘C’ written in scarily familiar handwriting. Realization hits him slower than he thought it would. The subtle humming in his head reassuring him.

Bahng Chan is his soulmate. Chan is his soulmate. Channie, his Channie is his soulmate. oh he's so fucked.

Later that night, the moon witnesses that the Sun’s tears are just as bright

Chan has been worried about [Name] since earlier today. It was the small things that alerted him at first, the way [Name] couldn't focus on his work, how he kept rubbing his temples as if he had a headache, his hearing sensitivity seemingly increasing as he could hear Chan's music. Then, he disappeared into the kitchen for a while, before coming back holding a warm water bottle against his stomach, against the side of his hip, Chan lifted a brow questioningly but didn't ask. He knew better by now, [Name] may have been his best friend, he always will be, but as his best friend Chan knew [Name] wouldn't talk to him. Not even if he asked.

It's dark now, Ms. Lee had gotten back, she was busy making dinner in the kitchen, three out of four of her kids around her, when Chan left the kitchen Felix had been talking animatedly about a new game he was playing. Chan had gone to get [Name], who was upstairs with grandpa Lee, as dinner was almost ready.

He had a sense of Deja vu as he walked up the stairs, he neared Grandpa Lee’s room and heard sniffles, ones oddly familiar to him. The door slightly ajar, yet Chan doesn't say anything, he just stands, stands and watches through the little open sliver as [Name] lays in his grandfather's arms.

The scene so eerily familiar, yet scarily different as [Name] is now older, much bigger too, he's grown out of most of his baby face, only a little bit of his immaturity still shown on his face, his hair is much longer than it was when he was young, his shoulders much more broad. Grandpa Lee is much smaller, much more frail than those years ago too, he's lost a lot of weight, an unhealthy amount of it, his eyes no longer bright and full of joy, now sunken in and sullen.

There's a moment of silence, only the soft sniffles of [Name] leaving the room before Grandpa Lee calls Chan in, because of course he knew the younger was there. Grandpa Lee always knows. Chan walks in, and unlike his younger self, he sits next to [Name] the older boy turns in his sleep but doesn't do anything to suggest he's awake. Chan gently brushes the sleeping male's hair with his fingers before looking at Grandpa Lee “what happened to him?... “ he asks, and his voice is trembling, as if he's scared to hear the answer. “Never mind that Chan, do you remember, a few years ago we were all sitting quite like this” Chan nods his head, his eyes still not tearing away from [Name’s] sleeping face, “and do you remember what I asked you to promise me?” Chan nods his head, “Yeah… yeah yeah I promised I'd protect [Name] when you couldn't”

Grandpa Lee takes a deep breath “it was crue of me to ask you such a promise at such a young age… but K know you love him Chan, as more than a friend” Chan's head snaps up, eyes wide “oh don't be so surprised, a Grandpa knows everything….. but Chan, I need you to promise me again, now that you're older, wiser, now that my death is near- ""Grandpa don't -"" It's the truth Chan, we both know it. I need you to promise me again Chan, things have changed, this ask is bigger than what you could be aware of.”

“Me and Bubbles have grown apart a bit.. It hurts and I don't know why it happened. I don't know if he'll ever want me to care for him, to protect him like I want to, but I'll try. I promise I'll try Grandpa Lee” Chan looks back down at the sleeping male, smiling slightly, “I wish his face could always look this peaceful” he whispers, “So do I my boy, so do I” Grandpa Lee gently pats his back.

A few months after, grief only caused disaster

The air was tense, the crowd silent, only sniffles heard among the downturned heads. The loudest sobs coming from the front row where the direct descendants of Grandpa Lee sit. Rachel, clinging to her eldest brother, her face buried in his shoulder as he tries to comfort her, It's hard though, since Felix is right on the other side, mirroring his elder sister's actions. [Name] hugs them close, rubbing their backs gently as their sobs and shaking bodies stick against him. He's not here- not fully, not anymore.

The people around him think it's weird- that he's not crying. He can hear them whisper about the fact that his face has remained stoic this entire time, not a tear or a wobbly lip in sight- he doesn't have the virtue of showing vulnerability now. That's something they don't understand, so he forgives them, it's okay, they don't know. It's good that they don't know, means they won't treat his family differently, means his siblings and mother will be happy. He knows its hard on everyone, his grandfathers death- fuck it feels like his hearts just been ripped out of his chest- his only support taken away without warning but we did warn you [Name] , don't you remember? you knew this would happen.

He can hear the slight sniffles of Chan behind him, but for once he doesn't feel the urge to turn around and comfort his soulmate, instead he wants to curl away and hide from the world, from the cold gaze of his father. His gaze may be stoic, but his fathers is angry- full of rage even and [Name] knows exactly why. He acted out, failed a pop quiz, but can you really blame him? it had happened right after his grandfather died a few days ago and when his father found out- oh boy did he yell. And for once, [Name] yelled back and his fathers anger was not only taken out on him but his mother as well.

His grandfather not being here anymore only solidifies his belief, the belief that he needs to be the one to care for the family now. So he stands up, mid service, gives his father a look and walks out, there are sounds of confusion but nobody dares stop him. He walks towards the church at the far end of the graveyard, it’s empty and he takes a moment to breathe before the hell he knows will break loose.

The air feels thick as it enters his throat, his eyes blurry as he tries to keep away the tears that want to fall. Before he can further clear his mind, a hand harshly grips his wrist, the intensity of the action already alerts him of who the person is as he’s dragged into one of the rooms of the church. He’s thrown into the room as the heavy door closes with a bang, the emptiness of the room causes the sound to echo against the marble tiles.

“WHAT exactly do you think you’re doing?? Running off from your grandfather's funeral after the stunt you pulled- do you WANT another beating??” [Names] father screams as he crosses his arm, glaring down at his son. “Yes” the boy responds in a monotone voice “Excuse me??” his father lifts a brow.

“I want the beating, I want the anger- whatever fucked up punishnment you have to offer, offer it to me. I’ll be your perfect fucking son, be anything you fucking want but you leave my siblings alone- you don’t fucking touch them-” [Names] voice laced with anger drips from his tongue like venom but he still doesnt look his father in the eye, the older man interrupts his son “And who are you to order me around boy?” The last word makes something churn in [Names] heart, not anxiety, not fear, but blinding rage. His father sees him as so little, so weak, and he hates it.

With strength he didn’t even know he possessed, he moved forward, yanking his fathers collar so the slightly taller man would be at his level, “I may not be able to stop you, I may fear you enough to let the abuse continue with myself- but I love them too much to have it continue with them. This boy is the one with the scars and proof to end your entire fucking empire before it reaches its glory. So you listen closely, father, you leave my siblings alone, whatever they choose, whoever they choose- you let them do what they want. You will be a good father to them, you will love and support them. To my mother, you will care for her, you will ensure she’s happy, that she’s the luckiest woman in the world- otherwise I’ll end you myself, using the knowledge you’ve forced upon me I'll end you I swear to God. I swear to God in this church, on this holy land, beneath the eyes of my grandfather I swear your downfall will be worse than that of Samael, you'll have an image so volatile that it stands unparalleled to what Lucifer faces in the eyes of his siblings.” The older man doesn’t speak, he hasn't seen such anger, such determination behind the eyes of anyone, let alone someone as young as his eldest son. But Lee is a ruthless man. An arrogant man who doesn't take kindly to his ego being bruised.

And so, with ease and familiarity he brings his hand up to his son's neck, squeezing until the younger lets go of his fathers collar. “And what do you expect me to do hm? If they disappoint me? How do you expect me to handle that?” he asks almost mockingly, not knowing his son will have a solution. He comes from the blood of his father after all. “I'll take it, I'll do whatever you want, achieve whatever you want- I'll be your perfect plaything, but you will give them a happy life” Despite his constricted breath, 16 year old [Name] glares at his father. He has people he needs to protect, his mother, his siblings, his soulmate. If being away from them, isolating himself and ensuring his father only hates him is what will keep them safe, then he’ll do it over and over again. In every lifetime, hell torture himself for their sake. For what is the value of a star in the daytime?

There's a moment of silence, [Name] refusing to audibly gasp for air as he stares at his father, the pain in his throat burning, within an instant his fathers grip is released. “I must say, your tenacity reminds me quite of myself, son” The older man pats [Names] shoulder as the younger catches his breath, glaring up at his father. “I'll accept this deal, only since you've shown me that I've raised you well.”

Keeping journals is not for the weak, because his sister decided to sneak

[Name] is tired. His back hurts, his whole body aches from the memory of his fathers disappointment, he just wants to fall down onto the softness of his bed and hope the comforting blankets will soothe his aches and not worsen anything. But hasn't it been proven that [Name’s] wishes never come true?

Entering his room, the bland and desolate room, the four walls of his false heaven isolating him from his family. His mother that's seemed happier since the deal was made, Rachel, who seems to hate him now- for reasons he's not sure; Felix and Olivia both busy with their own lives and despite wanting a relationship with their eldest brother not knowing how to create one with the boy who they never see anymore.

Opening his door he can feel something wrong in his room before his eyes fall on his sister reading his journal. Rachel is reaching his journal- the journal he’s been using to keep track of every feeling he’s had since grandfather died- every secret.

In a fast motion he leaps forward, roughly grabbing the leatherbound book from his sister's old as she looks up at him. The look in her eyes is more anger and shock than it is disappointment or sadness, and that makes the back of his mind relax as it means she hasn't read the worst, hopefully not yet.

“Rachel wha-'' His voice is gritted in anger, betrayal that she would invade his privacy, but he doesn't shout. Never, he doesn't ever want to shout at her. “You're Chan's soulmate." She interrupts him, it's not a question, not said in joy, no- she's almost in disbelief. “I-”

“You're his fucking soulmate. AND YOU DIDN'T TELL HIM??“ She's screaming now, and he closes his door as he hurriedly shushes her in hopes of not alerting the rest of their family. “Rachel, please be quiet.'' his voice is desperate and at least she complies. “Yes he's my soulmate, no I didn't tell him and I'm not going to. I can't-” “Can't handle the responsibility of caring for someone? you're a deadbeat brother and now a deadbeat soulmate too?” she quirks her brow, her tone almost expectant now. “Rachel what are you talking about? A deadbeat -” Rachel nods her head “You barely ever fucking talk to us, you don't care for us. Ever since grandpa died you haven't even been a brother to us. You're basically a stranger living in this house [Name].” her last sentence stings, the way she spits his name, no sign of respect or calling him her brother.

He wants to defend himself, really he wishes he could- he wants to tell her how much he wishes to be there for her, how he wants to hug her, to chase away all her worries, to be the big brother he used to be; but the way she looks at him now, it lets him know that those wishes are for not. She hates him, believes him to be no better than a stranger.

She hurts him, but is that not love between siblings? he lets her hate him, lets her believe all the vile things her mind concocts, because at least this means she's loved by his father. “You're pathetic [Name], but U never thought you'd stoop this low” she says before walking out of the room, her shoulder knocking against his forcefully.

His knees want to give in beneath him as his eyes sting with unfallen tears, yet he can't help but be grateful, at least she didn't read far enough to know about the deal. At Least she still has her picture perfect family - even if he feels like he is the one holding the camera.

Right before you depart, he ensures he'll always have your heart.

“Just because you're a big university student now doesn't mean you forget about me, okay? I'll be right behind you next year so don't even entertain the thought” Chan jokes, looking up at [Name], there's a bittersweet tone to his voice and his signature smile is plastered on his face. Yet the way it doesn't reach wide enough to show off his cute dimples, to crinkle his eyes which hold unshed tears make [Name’s] heart ache. He could never forget Chan, never forget the beauty of one he sees as hand grafted by the angels.

“I would never forget you Channie” [Name’s] voice is somber, in a slip of emotion he lets it deepen to its natural tone, rather than the one he's been using to cover up his secret. Chan doesn't seem to notice, too caught up in his own mind- or maybe assuming it's due to the underlying goodbye behind his words. “Bubbles, you're my sun right? you'll still be with me when the earth dies, when the people have rotted away and all that's left are the inhabitable planets of our solar system” Chan asks, his words aren't stated in a questioning tone, it's more directed to himself than the man before him- as if he's reassuring himself. He fiddles with something in his pocket as he rolls on the balls of his feet. [Name] takes Chan’s face in his hands, pushes his thumbs gently into Chan's dimples to make him smile. “Always, the Moon will never be without the sun’s light” The words feel heavy on his tongue as it flows past his lips. Unwavering because he knows it's true, but the glaring stare of his father a few feet away reminds him he can't be as close to Chan as he wants. Just because the Moon is in the Sun's orbit, does not mean they are meant to be, for there are many miles between them.

Chan nods his head in [Names] hands, before taking of his right hand gently off his cheek, “then wear this” Chan says, placing a silver ring on [Names] ring finger “I know your soulmate will eventually put a ring on your left finger when you get married- but I get to have your right” he says cheekily, despite the blush coating his face. ‘You get to have my everything- just ask for it and i'll give you. Please for the love of God ask for it because I need you to want me to love you. I need you to need me the way I do you’

[Name] has never been one to share his thoughts though. “I will Channie- thank you” he twirls the ring on his finger, feelings it's comforting steel against his skin, “I uhm- I have a matching one” Chan says, holding up his right hand, a ring similar to [Names] on his ring finger, only his has a blue moon instead of golden sun in the middle. [Name’s] heart feels like it stops- like the string Chan has just attached to him using these rings is constricting his vital organs ability to keep him alive, the only way for it to start beating is to loosen the string- to lesser the distance because he would never dream of taking off the ring.

So [Name] steps forward, holding Chan tightly against his chest, ignoring the younger's yelp of surprise. He doesn't care about the glare of his father and eldest younger sister, about the teary looks of his younger siblings nor his mothers worried mumbling. Right now as his nose is buried in Chan's hair, inhaling his comfort scent, memorizing it because he knows it will be a very long time before he gets to it again. It's only him and Chan at this moment, he's holding Chan, almost desperate for the younger to realize his yearning.

It's silent for a good minute, before Chan breaks the hug, the unshed tears of prior had now fallen, coating his cheeks lightly, but it's not melancholy in any way. His gaze seems to hold hope of the future- hope [Name] believes to be falsely placed.

—-------------

“- so listen Channie I'm sorry it's just so much was going on, and we both had just started college we were so busy and my father started breathing down my neck- you just-you seemed so happy without me and Rachel decided to drop out which had me-” [Names] rambling as he sits on his knees in between Chans legs are brought to a halt as the man in the couch grabs his face, hands covering the elders cheeks. Chan's touch isn't rough by any means, but there's slight possessiveness in the way he pulls [Name] forward. And before [Name] can comprehend what's happening, he finds his lips interlocked with Chan's and it's the most euphoric feeling he's ever felt.

He feels high, like he's drifting on a cloud, and the warmth of Chan's tear salted lips against his own makes him want more- makes him need more. His own hands fly up to cup Chan's face in reciprocation, the cold steel of his ring contrasting Chan's heated cheeks. [Names] touch is different from Chan's - it's filled with passion and longing- obsessive admiration and a need for more as he tries to press their faces impossibly closer to one another.

He knows they'll need to break apart soon, and his lips already grieve the loss of Chan’s. He stands up slowly, finger gently tracing Chan’s jaw as the male on the couch tilts his head to follow the elders movements, their lips still intertwined. [Name] sweeps his tongue over Chan's bottom lip before breaking the kiss completely, standing up to his full height as he groans while Chan breathes heavily. “what-” [Name] looks down at Chan's flushed face, “do you know how long I've been wanting to do that? I-” Chan takes a moment to steady his breathing before he continues “I can't even imagine what you've been through and fuck even after hearing that I don't know if I believe it but- Ive wanted to kiss you like that ever since I was 14”

[Name] looks down at him shocked, not understanding “since you were 14? that-” his furrowed brows make Chan groan in annoyance “fuck how can such a smart oerson be so stupid” he wispers to himself “I like you Bub, fuck I love you- I'm inlove with you. I have been since before I even found out you were my soulmate. I mean how could I not love you?” Chan asks, almost rhetorical.

[Name] takes a moment to understand Chan's words as he sits down beside the younger male. His heart bursts and his stomach feels warm, despite the danger of it all- he can't go back now, not knowing this… bubut a question still lingers in his mind. “How…. How could you love me though? I haven't had any use to you- to my family I'm about as useful as a star in the daytime and you deserve SO much more than that Channie. So much more than what I can offer-” [Names] spiral is cut off by Chan grabbing his hands. “The sun is a star” he states.

[Name] looks at him, a strange mixture of emotions in his eyes. “I've told you you were my sun before, the sun is a star Bub. The sun gives us light, it gives us life. So sure, you're as valuable as a star in the daytime- you're as valuable as the sun. My sun. No matter what your father or siblings say can change that.” Chan's eyes are filled with sincerity, his words speaking truths [Name] knew but refused to acknowledge.

"God Im so inlove with you" [Name] breathes out, "Say it again" Chan says with a bashfulsmile, "Im inlo-" "No, no say it in your real voice-you don't have to hide anymore" [Name] smiles, "Im inlove with you" his deep voice reaches Chans ears and it makes the younger giggle, his cute reaction causing [Name] to grab him and drag him on his lap. Chan yelps but continues laughing all the same, feeling at home in [Name’s] arms.

They sit like this for a while, in the silence only basking in each others touch, "are you not mad at me?" [Name] asks softly, Chan takes a moment to think before responding "I was, but- I get ut now. Why you thought you had to do it. While I don't agree wuth how you handled it, I do understand that I wasn't the one in the situation itself... Im not mad at you, I don't think I ever could be" he suplies.

[Name] nods, "So? what do we do now?" he asks, "well that depends... are we together?" Chan's voice is hesitant, "I would hope so- I don't just go around telling everyone and anyone im inlove with them" Chan slaps [Names] chest playfully at the elders response. "So do you... do you want to come clean? about everything- to your sibling I mean" Chan looks at his loved who seems fearfull at the notion, "I don't...." Chan nods his head in understanding as [Name] can't formulate a sentence. "You don't have to have an answer now... it's just I think felix is suspecting something already, and they deserve to know"

[Name] nods, "yeah... I don’t know Ill think about it in the morning... right now I only wanne think about you, celebrate that I'm finally your's as you are mine" [Name] smiles as he kisses Chans hand.

The sun is still a star, no matter the time of day. And [Name] is still Chan’s, no matter whatever forces wish to get in their way

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[jakescakeislateforourdate]

Stealing Kisses

(Actors from The Boys in the Boat)

Joe Rantz, Don Hume, Bobby Moch, George (Shorty) Hunt

tbitb masterlist

A collection of kissing scenes. Might write something for Chuck Day later, we’ll see, anyway, got carried away with Don, I would die for Bobby

Enjoy this garbage!

…

Joe Rantz:

Joe is a gentleman. He plans it’s out, wanting to take you on a decent date beforehand to set the mood and feel out just how much you like him. He doesn’t have money or a nice apartment or cooking skills for that matter. What he does have is his strength and his smarts.

So he takes you for a boat ride one sunny afternoon. He brings his guitar, opting for a little less country than the banjo, and paddles you out to a secluded spot. Despite his protest, you brought a basket full of treats and you talk as you share them under the hot sun.

His blond curls become waves of amber grain in the sunlight. After a while you fall into a comfortable silence which gives him the opportunity to pull out his guitar. Now he’s been planning this date for a little while so he picked some new songs to memorize. Sweet and romantic but not too lovey dovey. Though he doesn’t hide the fact that he loves country music.

As he strums his guitar he catches you intently staring at him. You look at him with so much affection that it makes him blush and stutter and he forget the words to his song.

“You’re cute, Joe.”

It makes him laugh so much he has to stop playing entirely. You tease him, enjoying his laughter.

After he recovers you both decide to venture out onto land. Wild flowers grow along the banks in great colorful bunches. Joe begins collection some, blue and purple and white and yellow, and he begins to weave them together.

It’s a special trick he learned while he lived alone, cutting and clearing trees for a living. During his breaks he taught himself to do this. The braid the delicate flower stems into bracelets and rings and crowns.

Joe makes the finest crown his has ever managed. He carefully lays the creation on your head and tucks away any loose strands of hair. ‘You’re gorgeous’ he wants to say. If he was a little more gutsy he would.

His hands trail down to cradle your cheeks. He’s not gutsy enough to tell you you’re pretty but for some reason he has the gall to lean down and kiss you.

His lips are a little chapped from rowing practices, the heavy breathing dropping his jaw and the wind biting his lips. But they’re gentle and sweet. Joe soaks up the private moment and rests his forehead on yours. He wraps his arms around your waist and sways back and forth with you. He starts singing again and you dance together in the afternoon sun.

Don Hume:

Let’s be honest here, you’re more likely to kiss him first. You simply make him too nervous to even find the coordination to plant his lips over yours.

After their first win, Don is dragged out to celebrate. Luckily his sweetheart of a few weeks now is already there. You’re happy to see Don out and about whether or not he likes it. Bobby flashes you a wink as he pushes Don into a chair next to you.

It’s too loud. You can’t hear a word the other says. In a blinding moment of courage, Don takes your hand and pulls you out of the hall. His calloused palm is sweaty. His fingers tremble between yours. You remember him first approaching you, Bobby pushing him forward and then abandoning him at your library table.

“Hey, you’re Don Hume right? From the rowing team, right?”

He nodded, swallowing hard.

“What can I do for you, Don?”

His tongue had gone dry. Where are his words? His mouth dropped open “I—” you smiled at him and it made everything worse.

“C’mon, Don!” You heard Bobby whisper shout, a collection of the rowing team has amassed behind a bookshelf, quietly cheering him on.

“Can-can I takeyouonadate?”

He panicked and cursed himself out, thinking he spoke too fast and you don’t catch what he said and now he’s going to have to ask all over again.

“I’d love to go on a date.” Your smile brightened and Don’s shoulders drooped in relief.

He still stutters asking you on dates now.

Don finds himself walking you across campus grounds and the pale light of the moon. “You did so good, Don, in your race.”

“Thanks.” He speaks so softly the whistle of the night breeze in the leaves is almost louder. He turns to you, catching your gaze first and then blushing and nervously glancing down at your lips.

He’s never kissed anyone before, but he thinks he wants to kiss you.

There’s a comfortable silence that fills the space between your faces. Don’s eyes keep flickering to your Cupid’s bow. To that perfect curve. He starts to say something but his words leave him again as he feels soft lips shutting his mouth.

His lips are rough, worn from the blustering winds. He smells faintly of sweat and the river water that sprays up from the churning oars.

Don can hardly think enough to kiss you back. He blinks, stunned and you lean in to kiss him again and again. He’s overwhelmed by the warmth of your lips and the velvet soft press of your tongue. His shaking hands clutch at your cheeks, trying to ensure that it doesn’t end.

“Don, baby—”

“Kiss me again, please.”

There’s a smile on your lips when you wrap your arms around him. “Only if you promise to dance with me.”

“Yes, yes, okay. Just…”

This time he kisses first.

Bobby Moch:

Bobby is a confident man. He maybe shorter than your average guy but his boldness makes up for it. But I also think you’d kiss him first.

You’re waiting for him to finish up practice, your routine being to go on a long walk and let Bobby blow off some steam before studying together and then going home. Bobby emerges from the shell house, clearly bothered, but he can’t help his smile when he sees you waiting on a bench with two warm cups of tea in your hand.

“Good evening, lovely, should we go to the library or the bridge?”

You hand him a cup and take his free hand. “I think… the library would be nice.”

“Me too.”

He squeezes your hand. He starts his rant and angrily blabbers on until you’re at the steps of the library. Somehow, between all his complaining, he’s managed to chug his whole cup of tea.

The library is fairly empty at this hour. Most students having given up on studying for the day and retired to either their dorms or gone off to work. Bobby drops his bag onto a secluded sofa and the two of you sit down for a nice, quiet study date.

While Bobby reads over his textbook chapter, you notice things about him. The wrinkle that forms on his forehead when he's focused. The tilt of his eyebrows. How his lips purse. You notice the tiny blemishes on his cheeks; they were once little nicks or pimples that he picked. You keep stealing glances of him. Absolutely fascinated by the way lamplight reflects off his skin or the curve of his jaw or the bob of his Adam's apple when he swallows. He hadn't really bothered to straighten out his hair after his shower and it's dried wild, tickling his face.

Bobby catches your gaze and it's stunning, how light pools in his eyes. How his irises brighten. His gives you an adoring look and returns to pouring over his textbook.

Then there's his lips. They look so soft and they're so gently rounded they look hand carved. Occasionally he'll lick his lips and you get a flash of tongue and white teeth. At some point you decide to just go for it. You've been dreaming of kissing Bobby for some time now but he's been content to let you take things at your own pace.

You reach of his textbook, "Need something?" Bobby asks genuinely. His gaze is uncharacteristically kind. He's always yelling at the top of his lungs or bossing around or saying something snappy. That's just Bobby. So why does he look at you like this? Like he's watching the sun rise.

"Yes, actually." And then you deliver a kiss to his lips. Bobby is caught off guard and before he can really even kiss you back, you're pulling away. "Sorry--"

"Don't even think about it." Bobby quips, "Get back here." He cups the juncture of your jaw and throat to bring you in but you hide in his palm. "Finish what you started. C'mon. Don't you feel like trying it again? I'm ready."

When your lips touch again Bobby is gentle in making it last. He never presses too hard but be doesn't let you shy away again either. He kisses you until the taste of him has stained your tongue and the oxygen is gone from your lungs.

George "Shorty" Hunt:

Sly dog, this one is.

George is highly tactical(he likes to think so) and because he’s so brilliant he hatched a perfect plan to get you to kiss him. He wants to see how bold you can be.

He makes three plans, two of which fail. They go like this. The first time he tries it, you’re walking him to practice. His jacket is slung over his shoulder and he’s telling you about his engineering class. “You know there’s this term we use called osculate which is where the curve of on surface meets the curve over another and they share a common tangent.” You raise a brow. Shorty licks his lips, “It’s also formal code for kissing.”

“Don’t even—” you swat at him and push him towards the shell house. “Go practice and share a tangent with Day!”

“Hey now,” Shorty pouts and disappears into the shell house, defeated. That was attempt 1. The second attempt hardly goes better.

It’s the night after their first win and Shorty is dancing with you. His nerdy pick up lines proved to be a failure so he goes for building some good old fashion romance. He’d gotten you flowers and taken you out for dinner before he brought you here where the music is so loud it blocks out everyone else around you.

Now you’re slow dancing, cheeks pressed together, hands laced with one another. The first thing you notice is that he smells good. You have no idea if he’s wearing cologne or if it’s the soap he uses to wash his clothes but he smells divine. The second thing is how soft his hands are despite the wear and tear of the pad. The third is that he didn’t put any product in his hair. You’ve always loved to play with the dark curls and fluff it up. But sometimes he styles his curls and the products make his hair stiff. But his curls are free today which tells you he’s been thinking about you and all the things you do.

“Watcha smilin’ about?” Shorty asks, his eyes light up as he smiles back. He hopes you’re thinking about it. He hopes you’re wanting to kiss him.

You plant your hands on his chest, “Nothing, you just make me happy.” It’s quite possibly quite possibly the nicest compliment he’s ever received. And then you rise up on your toes a place a kiss on his cheek. It’s not what he expected but he’s as pleased as ever.

The third and actually successful attempt is on the train before he leaves for Poughkeepsie. You’d arrived late and missed him boarding. You force your way to the train and look through the window. George sees you and throws the window open. “I was afraid you weren’t coming!” He shouts of the chatter. He’d actually been heartbroken.

“Had trouble getting here!”

“Can I…” you don’t catch what he says.

“What!”

Shorty smiles and shakes his head. He turns and gestures for something. He opens the window as far as he can and you see Chuck and Johnny behind him. And then George is falling out of the window. First his shoulders and chest and then his hips and your almost scream but Chuck and Johnny are holding his thighs. He wedges one hand on the window sill to support himself and the other reaches for you.

He pulls you as close as he can and gives you a kiss goodbye. “I’ll come home with a gold medal!” Don’t you worry!” The people who notice give him a cheer and a laugh as he’s pulled back into the train. He blows you one last kiss and then the train starts rolling.

tbitb masterlist

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this piece please be sure to check out my masterlist and if you want to request something you are more than welcome to. Have a nice day.

- the author

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | EXTRA

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

a/n EXTRA, EXTRA, READ ALL ABOUT IT. This my dear readers is a bonus chapter that does not have to be read to understand the story. But, I do hope you take a look to feel more connected to our favorite characters. xo

-> <-

July 1983*

“Jeff, you got a light?” Eddie’s crouched down on top of the gravel in between your place and his with a firework held between his fingers. The lighter that he was using flickers, but sizzles and burns out before he gets a chance to light the fuse.

The Fourth of July has always been an excuse to blow up something without getting in too much trouble with it. Although, you’re sure the curtains moving back and forth at the Peterson’s trailer is a sure sign that you’re being monitored. A quick call to the sheriff would blow your party.

While Jeff helps Eddie light the firework, you sit back on your porch step. The light from the sky is just a few stars dotting the clear deep blue sky. It’s warm for a summer evening. Without the sun, however, your legs feel the cool breeze and you shiver.

You’ve already gone back inside to slip on a sweater that you’ve zipped up to your chest. Hugging yourself tightly, you wish the boys would get on with their firework show already. It’s nearing eleven in the evening, and your eyelids are burning from trying to stay awake.

“Should we dip?” Robin is bored. She already chased you around with a sparkler until the both of you were out of breath. You were practically up a tree trying to get away from her.

You want to tell her yes. There’s a set of cozy blankets draped across your floor, a bag of forgotten popcorn and a stack of films calling your names. Your plans for the evening had changed when Eddie and his boys came home with a ton of firecrackers that they weaseled off of some guy in a sleezy pickup off the main road near your place.

You sit far enough back, and wait for the explosion.

Just as you’re ready to give up, Gareth drapes a blanket across your bare legs. He spares enough for Robin to scoot over and hug the corner.

“Thanks,” you scan over his bare arms. “Won’t you be cold?”

“I run hot,” he shoves his hands into his pockets, and tries not to tremble on his way back to the circle of boys surrounding the lame firework.

Robin nudges you, “has he asked you out yet?”

“What do you mean?” You hold the blanket closer.

“Come on,” she replies, “you have him in the palm of your hand.”

The boys are flocking around like wild animals that have the last scrap of food. Eddie's running away from the lit firework, but trips over Gareth behind him. They argue, while the firework sizzles then bursts into the sky shooting off bright blues into the night. You watch until all that's left is a cloud of smoke fizzling in the distance.

“Alright, who are you interested in?” You tease Robin. “Anyone catch your eye?"

Robin's quiet about her love life. Perhaps, a private soul. You've never asked her out front why you've never heard of any boy that she finds hot. It's always about you and your problems.

There's only one boy in particular that Robin has come closer to in the past few years. He's the same boy that you've grown up with, so you can only assume that she's waiting for the right time.

“Oh,” you clear your throat. Robin's gone out in space, while staring at a particular subject. “I mean- it makes sense. Eddie’s- er-.”

Robin stops you there, “it’s not Eddie.”

You snort.

Here’s the thing about Robin. Ever since she was a little girl, Robin Buckley knew that something about her was different than the other girls.

In elementary school, Robin played like any other little girl. She can recall the projects they would do in class like drawing picture of mom and dad, or beading a bracelet together. Something that got her attention was how well she could braid her hair into two strands on either side of her head.

During recess, she would become the girl to go to when someone needed a quick fix. She can remember how the strands of hair flowed through her fingertips, so softly like velvet.

Sometime when the weather began to warm, the girls in her class would bring their dolls from home to play house. This prompted a week’s worth of begging and pleading to her own mother to buy her dolls. And, her mom did.

Robin liked the Barbie dolls her mom bought for her. She disliked Ken. Ken's became often were forgotten about. They were dumped in the bottom of a storage bin that was slowly climbing higher to the top with various toys that Robin would loose interest with.

It didn’t occur to her that other little girls were creating a life for their Barbie dolls. They would have little houses made from their pillows and their other creative imaginations. Barbie would have a family with Ken, which was usually a different small stuffed toy named Mary or Mark. They’d have a simple, but happy American life.

Robin’s Barbie didn’t have a Ken. Actually, Barbie despised Ken and his system of oppression against women. Especially, the way he would force her to have his children, just to leave for work every morning and make her his breeding mule.

In more or less words.

Rather than Barbie having Ken bossing her around, Robin’s Barbie had another friend - Other Barbie. Other Barbie made frequent visits to Barbie’s house, and she even stayed the night once or twice (or every night - sun up to sun down). Yes, Barbie lived a lavish life with her dogs and her cats with Other Barbie.

It really shocked her that the girls at school despised Robin’s plan to leave Ken out of the story. That two girls living together (which, they obviously weren’t living together) isn’t appropriate when you’re forty-five and have no children.

Robin disagrees.

In fact, she decides right then that living a life with another woman until they die wouldn’t be a poor plan. Neither of them would have husbands and neither of them would have children. They could have hobbies. They could have pets.

Robin was in for a big shock when she got into middle school, and everyone began developing. To her, the boys became grossly male. The woman became beautiful beyond words. It's much less about their physical form, but their conversations are much more intelligent and more forgiving than to have to explain to an angry man how the world spins fifteen times over.

“Robin,” you grab her attention when you swipe the pad of your thumb over her cheek. Brushing a few strands of her hair away, you’re full of concern when you say, “you’re crying. What’s wrong?”

Robin touches her tear kissed cheek not realizing that she's sprung a leak. While she adores you deeply, you could never come to understand what she goes through daily. If not for the town, the whole world hates her. She's seen the hatred in churches, in newspapers and magazines. The news is always shaming people like her - and, recommending that she be fixed.

In quick step, Robin races back inside to calm herself down back into her safe little bubble where she can smile and play pretend once again. This little life of hers is all that she aspires to have. If she has to be alone forever then so be it.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” your voice comes barely above a whisper to her.

Robin jumps out of her skin. Why did you follow her inside?

“It’s not you,” she sniffs. “Allergies.”

“Come on, Rob,” you sort out her lie. “What’s wrong?”

Robin's unsure what's made her say it. The words shock her tongue, as though this is the first time she's ever admitted out loud how she feels. Maybe it is? Spewing the words over again, she waits for the worst to come. You're done being her friend. You never want to see her again!

Yet, you’re quiet.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Robin drops her voice to barely a whisper. “I’m- I’m gay. I like women."

“Okay," you nod slightly. "That's-"

“What?” Robin blinks a few times.

“That's okay."

Robin wobbled. The tight knot in her belly loosened. You didn't care? All this worrying and you still hold the same glistening stare you always share with her. You hold a grin from ear to ear with your arms out wide for her to fall into.

"But," you hold up a finger, before Robin can get too comfortable. "You never told me who you like."

Robin reddens, and you laugh.

-> <-

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax @am0iur

[drewcherie]

♪ now playing … 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑠 — 𝑘𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑟 & 𝑠𝑧𝑎 ᯓᡣ𐭩

introducing . . . sunshinepogue!reader & mean!rafe

sunshinepogue!reader who is a free spirit, sweet and caring with everyone. she is such a genuine person and always worries about her friends. she always listens to people’s problems and helps them as best as she can, even if just with a hug. despite it all, she doesn’t have it easy: her family is in debt and not financially stable, living in the cut, but she never seems to drop that beautiful toothy smile from her face. her love for others shows in all ways, but her love language is definitely giving handmade gifts. because of her warm and gentle personality, people started calling her “sunshine”, and now it’s like a second name to her.

sunshinepogue!reader who is rafe’s little princess despite being polar opposites. he is a true asshole, a psychopath and mean to everyone. everyone but her. somehow when he spends time with her, even if just on the beach, she always takes out the best of him. he almost seems gentle around her. her favorite thing to do with him is having him rest his head on her chest as a tall palm tree covers them from the strong light of the sun, their bodies colliding together after skinny dipping in the ocean. as she enjoys the summer breeze, she never notices rafe leaving soft purple marks all over her.

sunshinepogue!reader who loves making bracelets and necklaces with shells she finds on the shore, for her friends and, especially, for rafe. she knows he’d never wear them, especially around his other kook friends, but she keeps gifting him small chains made of the most beautiful shells. she also loves putting shells in her hair, threading them in with colourful threads. she has always her bikini underneath her denim shorts, and is always in for a day out at the beach. she loves surfing, reading, sunbathing, and just chill by the water. if rafe’s around, then it’s even better.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

drabbles and blurbs to come . . . 𐙚

a/n: missing summer always </3

[theangelicimp]

Thoughts about Eddie Munson x Magic!Reader

❮ navigation | st masterlist | guidelines | drop a request ❯

Summary: A little imagine I had randomly.

Word Count: 490

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Magic!Reader

Warnings: none

Original post: here

A/N: Couldn't find the original gif I used with the fic 😖

Imagine this: Eddie goes wandering through the woods one day after making a deal. The sun's going down, and he's anxious to make it back home before it gets too dark.

He's walking along his usual path - he'd marked it years ago using carvings in the trees - but he quickly realizes that he has absolutely no idea where he is.

All the carvings he'd made are gone, replaced by charms and strings tied on tree branches. He turns around to go back the way he came, only to come face to face with you.

You, standing in a clear in an all-white dress, almost glowing in the low light of sunset. You, with dark braids framing your face like an ebony halo. You, with deep brown eyes that seemed to look straight through Eddie, to gaze at something far beyond him.

"You're in my forest," you state. You're not angry or tense. But the words you speak hold something else in them, and Eddie can't quite figure out what it is.

"Didn't realize the forest belonged to anyone?" Eddie sputters in response.

You don't say anything in return, just looking him up and down with that piercing gaze of yours.

"Strange," you mutter after a while, just loud enough for him to hear.

"What?"

"Not you," you clarify as you take his hand and turn it over to trace the lines of his palms. "Or maybe it is. I can't quite tell."

"Tell what? Am I gonna die soon?" Eddie asks half-jokingly. The only magic Eddie had ever encountered was in the campaigns he ran, but he wanted to believe that there was something else out there.

"Anyone could die soon. It all just depends on what you do. But you..." You trail off, looking back up at his eyes. "I need to check on something."

Eddie blinks, opens his mouth to speak- You're gone. He didn't see you leave, didn't hear any leaves crackling or branches snapping. In the place where you stood is a bracelet, decorated with a figure of a raven. When Eddie picks it up, he feels something passing through it - not static electricity, but something else, like the first breath of spearmint you take after brushing your teeth.

Eddie tries not to get his hopes up. Maybe he's just smoking too much, or maybe it was all just a trick of the light. But already his heart is racing at the thought of you and what you bring with you.

"Magic, it's magic!" He whispers astonished and maybe a little giddy.

The next morning when he goes to school - fashionably late as always - there's talk of a new kid in school. He takes a seat in homeroom, and no sooner than when he sets his bookbag on the ground does the black hem of a skirt flutter by his sight.

Eddie looks up. It's you again.

"Hey stranger," he says, a smile on his lips.

[cranberrymoons]

that old black magic

prompt: magic au (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 1,000 rated: t tags: fortune telling, witch/appalachian eddie, post-season 2

welcome to Day 20 (!!!) of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

The cards don’t actually do anything.

See, he waves his hand around and says some fancy words over some very old looking cards with very old looking art on them, and people assume that’s where the magic is – and the cards are old! And so is the art! But they just don’t actually do anything.

No, the magic sits in him. It always has. That’s always been the secret.

His mother had it, and his grandmother before her and her father before that and on and on, all the way back as far as the eye can see, right up the family tree to that one person at the top who made a deal with something in the woods one night, something as old as the hills themselves, that lurks behind trees and makes offers to desperate passing travelers.

But all that was hundreds of years before Eddie’s time. 

These days, there are psychics on TV and people who do tarot readings in over-perfumed salons while they sit on a throne made of cheap velvet and clatter around with their bracelets and bangles and shawls. There are people who read palms and sell incense and run little bookshops that sell mass-produced spellbooks. Crystals and incense and moon charts, the whole world awash in fake magic. All of it, all of it, noise.

But Eddie’s one of the rare real ones. He doesn’t exactly go around advertising it, but give him a set of cards and enough money? Sure, he’ll do a little fake fortune telling for you, maybe even give you a real answer or two, nudge something in the right direction so you feel like you got your money’s worth.

All that to say, the first time Steve Harrington finds him after class, one day right before winter break, and takes a furtive look over his shoulder, Eddie’s fully prepared to do the usual song and dance.

“Um, hey man,” Steve says in a low voice. “I heard you uh –” He clears his throat, shuts his eyes like he can’t actually look at Eddie as he says it. “That you can sort of see the future? Or tell people what’s going to happen or whatever.”

He opens his eyes, and Eddie studies him for a moment, raising his eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “And?”

Steve makes a face, hitching his bag higher on his shoulder. “There’s some really weird shit going on,” he says, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder. “It’s kind of hard to explain but basically… there’s something that I really hope is over, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to ask or whatever but –” He lets out a breath. “Is it actually over?”

“Harrington, that’s –” Eddie shakes his head, running a hand back through his hair. “So fucking vague. How the fuck am I supposed to know?”

“Okay, just –” Steve lets out a breath. “If you could like… I don’t know, just give it a general look, see if I’m…”

As he continues rambling, Eddie tunes him out in favor of flipping through his timeline like a mental rolodex, just to see what he’s working with. Just to see what he can spin out of King Steve’s future, but –

“What the hell did you do?” he asks abruptly, cutting across Steve halfway through blabbering about something to do with someone named Justin or Dustin or – “There shouldn’t be blank spots, Harrington. Why do you have blank spots?”

Steve blinks at him. “I –” He frowns. “Blank spots?”

“Past and future, you’ve got these weird –” Eddie flaps a hand around in the air, lost for words, because – “Blank spots. I’ve never seen that before.”

Steve’s face goes blank with surprise. “Wait, like… you can actually see my future?” he asks. “Like right now, you’re seeing it? What are you seeing?”

“I’m… just –” 

Eddie shakes his head, shuts his eyes to block out the feedback loop his brain seems to be caught in, because alongside the blank spots – and there are blank spots; what the fuck – he keeps seeing himself standing with Steve, which must be his brain trying to fill in the weird gaps? 

Maybe? 

How the fuck is he supposed to know? He’s never seen anything like this before.

“Did something happen around Halloween?” he asks finally, letting out a sharp, frustrated breath. “That’s where the first gap is, and then the next one is in like… a year or two from now? It’s kind of hard to tell.”

Steve’s expression drops, and his shoulders slump. 

“The tunnels,” he says. “That’s – Halloween. I was in the tunnels at Halloween.” He says this as if it explains anything, but Eddie honestly feels twice as lost as he was thirty seconds ago. “So it’s going to happen again, then.”

Eddie makes a face, sort of aiming for – sympathetic? That seems like what Steve needs right now, probably.

“If it’s any consolation, you’re going to survive.” He shrugs. “There’s stuff after, a long life. I keep –” He takes a breath, considering not saying the rest, but Steve is going to ask for more details if he doesn’t. “I can’t really see a ton of it, because I think the blank spots are messing with me. I keep seeing myself there in your future stuff, but I’m sure my brain’s just filling in the gaps. It’s not like –”

“Like you’re part of my future.”

“Right,” Eddie says. He laughs. “Yeah, that would be –”

“Yeah.” Steve lets out a relieved little breath, and – sure. Fair enough. “Anyway, um – thanks, man. This is… not exactly good news, but I feel a little better, you know?”

“Yeah,” Eddie echoes. “Uh– anytime.”

Steve starts like he’s just remembered, and he reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. “How much do I–”

“No, just–” Eddie shakes his head. “No charge. Just get home safe, okay?”

Steve nods, smiling a little. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

[also on ao3]

[chrismerle]

Been a while since I posted an ad, so I tossed one together with some of my favorite pieces! If you're interested in any of them, all of them are available in my Etsy shop, Widget's Apparel. There's a link to the shop in my pinned post and my blog description. There will be a link to the shop and the individual listings in the notes of this post!

Items, left to right, top to bottom:

Labradorite and sterling silver necklace. $72.

Moss agate, jasper, and copper crescent moon pendant. $35.

Rhodonite, sunstone, agate, and copper necklace. $52

Iridescent glass and silver-plated copper necklace. $38.

Gold stone and silver-plated copper pendant necklace. $50.

Quartz, aventurine, glass, and silver-plated copper necklace. $48.

Sodalite, glass, and steel viking knit necklace. $75.

Glass and silver-plated copper pendant necklace. $42.

Dyed palm room and copper tree pendant. $65.

Sodalite, lava stone, and silver-plated copper bracelet. $30.

Unakite, glass, and copper bracelet. $30.

Quartz, aventurine, and silver-plated copper bracelet. $28.

[atxxokirina]

Request: Being ronals girlfriend but neytiri having a dark obsession over reader.

Mommies Girl (18+, MDNI)

✮ Neytiri x Fem Reader ✮

contains: cheating, scissoring/tribbing, fingering, yandere neytiri, fdom neytiri, mommy kink, mention of mvrder, slight choking, pls lmk if i missed anything.

na'vi dictionary - yawntutsyìp = darling, loved one (yawn tut syip)

˙⁠ ❥⁠˙

Ever since you became Ronal's girlfriend, you felt eyes everywhere. Of course that was to be expected with you dating the Tsahík, but lately, you'd been sensing an extra pair burning a hole through you. Not to mention you've gained a.. stalker? More like a secret admirer. You would tend to find small gifts placed in your hut. Necklaces, bracelets that consisted of your favorite colors, and even handmade tops.

But the most odd "gift" you received from this person was their strands of hair.

No, not just a strand, an entire chunk of it.

And each time you'd look around to figure out who, or what it was, the feeling disappeared. "Yawntutsyìp, is everything alright?" Ronal snaps you from your thoughts, rubbing a soft hand on your back. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry." You flash a pained smile as she nodded, going back to eating. You sat in the common square, surrounded by the village as they all ate their supper. As Ronal conversed with those around her, you poked around at your food, appetite completely lost.

Unknown to you, your ex girlfriend was the one who's been creeping on you. She found amusement in this, knowing that you're indirectly looking for her. Your relationship together may have been over, but her undying love for you surely wasn't. She sometimes thought about killing Ronal, imagining how she'd execute it, and how you would come running back to her after. As she stares at you from behind, a she feels the urge to do exactly what she's been wishing for since you'd gotten with Ronal. Easy access. All she had to do was stick her blade into her spine and—

Stop. Getting too carried away.

Neytiri reaches for the small note she wrote for you, standing from her seat, "accidently" dropping it in your lap, walking away. You felt a thin leaf land into your lap. Your brows furrow in confusion, checking your sides to see who could have dropped it. You unfold the light emerald colored leaf, reading something written in black ink.

Ultxa si piak säpi pum txal pxiut.

Meet by the back palm tree.

"Hm." You quietly hum, still eyeing the note. "I'll be back soon." You tell your girlfriend, but doubt she heard you. Sighing, you stood up. Making your way to the desolate bunch of palm trees. The sky was dark and the saplings stood tall. You'd be terrified to be here alone if you didn't know any better. "Um, hello? Is someone here?" You call out. After a few moments when no one answers, you grew impatient. Just as you huff and begin leave the area, you feel a rough tug on your hair. "Ow! What the-" You yelped, pulling back from the source and turning your body. Your eyebrows furrow at what you see, body hot. "Neytiri..?" You scoff. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Your tone becomes aggressive and cold.

A shit faced smirk forms on Neytiri's face. "The fuck is so funny?" You scoff, face dropping in disbelief. She softly frowns, stepping closer to you and cupping your cheek in her palms. "Hi, baby.." She sighs, tracing her finger down your body. "Oh, I missed you so much." You looked up at her, eyes filled with daze. "H-Have you been, stalking me?" You ask quietly, swallowing back a gulp.

"I wouldn't call it stalking. Just.. random acts of love, hm?" She cocks her head toward you, now running her fingers through your hair, which turns into her pulling your head to her face, crashing her lips into yours. She wastes no time as her tongue slithered it's way into your mouth. You gasp at the sudden kiss, eyes widening as you're pulled into her. As your mouths meet, a wave of shock and arousal washes over you. This is wrong. Fuck, so wrong.

You weakly attempt to push Neytiri away, feeling her smirk against your lips as her arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer. The heat rises in your bodies as the two of you moan into the kiss. She walks you back into a tree, breaking the kiss and pushing you down onto the soft moss beneath you. You lay back on your elbows, wiping your mouth from her saliva. She gazes down at you, untying her top and, dropping to your level. She spits on your tummy, sliding her tongue upward, stopping in between your breasts. A small part of you felt hesitant to go through with this, yet you were still having trouble controlling the desire you had for her, considering your past together.

"Neytiri, we shouldn't-" You say with a whimper as she brings a hand up to your tits, circling a finger around your nipples and snaking her tongue upward. Squeezing your eyes shut, you held back a moan, but not for long. The second she began grinding her clothed pussy against yours, you lost control. Bucking your hips up as you pull her closer to you. "There's my dirty girl," She hums, now opening your wet folds and toying with your clit. Neytiri reaches behind her, unraveling the loincloth from around her excited tail and pulling it down. She gives your cunt one last touch, licking your slickness off of her fingers as she sat up. She glances down at your middle, "Take this off for mommy, hm?" Without hesitation, you're sliding the flimsly loincloth down. She smiles, licking her fangs and parting your thighs open, climbing on top of you.

You let out a jagged moan as your clits meet with each other. "Oh fuck.." Your lower muscles contract. "Did you miss me?" She whispers in your ear teasingly, grinding herself on your cunt leans down, pinning your wrists back. "Hm? Tell me baby. Tell me how much you've missed me." She lets out a soft, guttural moan. You mewled, eyes shifting down to where your two bodies meet, the sensation of your juices mixing together causing the woods to fill with low, wet sounds, along with your moans syncing together. "Say it." She snaps her hips, slowing down before coming to a halt. "Say it, or else I'll stop."

You frantically nod. "Y-Yes, yes I missed you.. fuck, please don't stop." You cry out in a low whine. Voice almost filled with shame. You wanted to feel terrible about cheating on Ronal, but you just couldn't. Not right now.

Neytiri inches her face to yours, leaving soft, wet kisses around your glowing freckles. "Gooood girl.." Before going back to humping your cunt, she finds your breasts, scissoring the nub with both of her fingers. You back arches at the matching pleasure, clit growing sensitive as well as your nipples. The sensation of your juices mixing only made you crave more of her. You loved the way she settled and bounced on you. Each rub sent a jolt of electricity throughout your body. "I missed you s-so much mommy," You moan again, forcing your eyes open as you grind your clit along hers.

"Yeah, I know you did." She wraps a hand around your neck, squeezing your airways before slamming you down. "And you know why you missed me?" She began to lick stripes up your neck, leaving marks that will definitely be visible later. "Because you're a slut. You're a fucking slut, yeah? Tell mommy how much you couldn't resist her." You could feel her pussy growing needier, as was yours. Your heart rate increasing. So, so, close to cumming. "I-I wanna cum mommy! Please, please let me cum," you whimper. "No. You're not cumming until you tell me what I wanna hear." She teased, leaning down to your ear, fucking you faster as her moans fill up your lobe. "Tell me you love me." She simply whispers, earning a strained moan from you. "No.. I love Ronal, I can't-" She pushes you down again, lowly growling. "You love her, huh? But you're letting me fuck you? That's some love." She snarles. The pressure was building inside of you. Any word you said came out as incoherent babbles and pleads. "So pathetic.. look at you coming undone for me. Bet that bitch couldn't do this to you, huh?"

"I'm gonna cum soon, and you're gonna do exactly what I said, aren't you?" Neytiri's clit against yours is now slowing down, a more sensual, needy pace. "Yes mommy.." You breathe out, tears rolling down your cheeks from the edging. "I love you, I love you so fucking much.. please, I wanna- I wanna cum so bad!" You whimper, attempting to speed her hips, but to no avail. "Mmmmm, that's mommy girl." She smirks in satisfaction, bouncing against your clit to get you there again.

You're close. So close. Just need one more push, one more thrust. "Cum. Cum for me now." You wasted no time. The tightening coil in your stomach began to unravel, a feeling of bliss that only she could get you to. The two of you moaning in unison is sweet music to your ears. You let out a loud, and long moan, limbs shaking and toes curling. As your high came down, the two of you pant. She crawls off of you, leaving another kiss on your nose. "You know you'll always be mommy's favorite girl, won't you?" You flutter your eyes open, weakly nodding with a whine. "Yes.." You say below a breath. "Mm, I know you will. And I'll always be better than the next one." She stands from her position, finding her loincloth and slipping it back on. "Think of me whenever you fuck your girlfriend, or the next time you try tell her you love her."

taglist: @pandorxxx @sweethoneycn @neytirishottie @sullybrosimp @tsireyafavgirl @teyamsbitch @encephalitis-on-sundays @sassypain @neon-groves @rosyjn

[tonixe]

headcannons spending christmas with coriolanus

A/N: I did both, lmao. Merry Christmas pookies. &lt;3

A/N: I did both, lmao. Merry Christmas pookies. &lt;3

WARNING: None, just pure fluff, wait...some nsfw???

PAIRING: Coriolanus x reader

WORD COUNTER: 654

✧ Imagine spending Christmas with Coriolanus snow. The tree would of course be all his, he would always pick out all the decorations, the star, ornaments, and no light because it gives the tree a tacky appeal.

✧ The color would be of course red, white, and gold. You tried to add some colors for the holiday appeal but it was always struck down, even if you begged him to. The enormous tree, with a red and gold lining of the tree skirt underneath it, and ornaments hanging on the tree, coordinately arranging it in order and a sparkling golden star on top, perfectly bringing in the elements of the evergreen tree.

✧ Though you didn't get to touch the tree, you didn't mind, you knew he knew what was doing, and the tree looked great. "It's perfect," you said, smiling at him. Looking up at the beautiful tree.

✧ You loved Christmas, saving recipes for Christmas for special desserts you wanted to surprise Coriolanus with. You were busy in the kitchen, making some gingerbread walls, putting the dough onto the baking tray, and loading it into the oven. Arranging the edible decoration of candy to decorate, you made sure to attentively make sure the small candies matched the ones of the tree. Red, gold and already made white. You hoped Coriolanus would like it, and you baked some cookies on the side for him.

✧ Christmas was something that shouldn't disappoint, it did come only once a year, and the biggest holiday of the season for most, setting the timer, as you took off the apron around your waist, being surprised by Coriolanus with his hands around your waist, his lips connecting with yours, bending yourself towards his kiss.

✧ Spending Christmas with Coriolanus, he would always surprise you with a mistletoe with a steamy kiss, his hands around your waist.

✧ Coriolanus would love to surprise you with big gifts, like diamond bracelets, necklaces, shoes, or expensive fabrics. Christmas day, he would just shower you with gifts, the maids and Butlers lining up to show you the special gifts he purchased. Your eyes glowing with delight, crossing your legs at looking the perfectly wrapped and ribbon tied gifts.

✧ It wouldn't be Christmas without a Christmas dinner, all kinds of food, luxurious and delicious on the grand table, sitting horizontally away from Coriolanus, your eyes sparkling with awe, with the surprise he had given you. "Corio, is this all for me?" you questioned, as he nodded. Well, he had to treat the prize jewel of Panem to glorious things, and second to that the mother of offsprings.

✧ You would of course have a gift for Coriolanus, a special one. One that you thought of with time and even asked his cousin, Tigris. Holding a special box hidden within a gift you wanted to surprise him like he did with you.

✧ Soon giving the special gift to him, butterflies fluttering into your stomach, feeling your palms sweat, and an anxious feeling circling you. His slender finger opened up the red satin box, and his eyes widened at what was inside a bejeweled snow charm bracelet. "Do you like it...Corio" you asked hesitantly, "It's perfect," he said, taking out the jewelry, "You sure?" you questioned.

"Yes, it's wonderful" He smiled his eyes flickering at you, "I'll wear it, every single day" He looked at the sparkling jewelry on his wrist, "I'm glad..let me put it on for you" You smiled, getting up, inching towards him. Placing yourself on his lap, and delicately putting the piece of jewelry around his wrist, "Thank you darling" you place your hands on the side of your face, kissing him... his hands on your waist.

Before you withdrew, "Merry Christmas, Corio" you whispered..."Merry Christmas, my dove" he pushed the strands of your hair over your ear, his eyes staring at yours, as the crackling fire rang out.