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callsign-venus · 9 months ago

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Be Mine | Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: It’s a February weekend and Jake has a surprise for you — but you don’t know if you’re ready.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: LOTS of fluff

a/n: My first Jake fic! This was inspired by the fact that I just found out Glen Powell was at my work at the same time as me, and I didn't know (I could have met him 😭). I might have cried a little when my coworker told me lol. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy this x

You loved weekends with Jake. You loved the soft falling sunlight that woke you instead of the alarm clock, the extravagant brunches he cooked instead of spoons clanking hurriedly against cereal bowls, and the prospect of spending the whole day together instead of a quick kiss in the doorway and a promise that he’d see you that evening.

So when you, half asleep, reached for him and your hands skimmed over bed sheets instead of his broad chest, you snapped awake, just as if your alarm had gone off.

“Jake?” You rubbed away the sleep in your eyes.

No answer.

Sometimes he worked weekends, but he would have told you if that was the case. And you couldn’t hear him in the kitchen, much less smell bacon or coffee. With a groan, you realized you would have to get up to investigate. You scooped Jake’s naval academy hoodie off the floor and pulled it over your head. It smelled like him, mixed with just a hint of your perfume.

The house was empty, no weekend warmth to chase out the chill that fell whenever you were home alone. It didn’t help that the sun was heavily curtained by dark gray clouds.

On the kitchen counter, there was a folded note. Your name graced the paper in his boyish handwriting.

Good morning sunshine,

I had to run some errands, be back in a few.

If you want to wear something nice, I was planning on taking you to the beach when I get back. I’ll stop and get us breakfast, so don’t cook yourself anything.

Sorry I left before you woke up, I hope you’ll accept my apology.

Love,

Jake

P.S. I love you beautiful

The P.S. was punctuated with a little doodle of you. It wasn’t exceptionally well done, but it made you giggle.

You tucked the note into your pocket and carried it with you to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

You’d nearly finished when you heard his car pull into the driveway. You set down your brush and tore through the house, nearly tackling him with a hug as he walked through the door.

“Woah, precious cargo,” he said, as he wrapped an arm around you, a paper bag full of breakfast tacos crushing against your back. An iced drink sloshed in his other hand.

You pulled back to see he’d also brought your iced coffee order from your favorite cafe. A cold feeling spread through your core.

“Did I forget something? It’s not our anniversary is it?” You asked.

“No,” he laughed. “You didn’t forget anything. Can’t I just treat my girl?”

“Of course.” You took a sip of coffee and tried to let it wash away your unfounded worries. Jake loved treating you, but something about his demeanor felt different, just a little bit on edge. There was a tick in his jaw as he set the bag of breakfast tacos on the table like they were breakable. The cold feeling spread to your fingertips.

It disappeared when you joined him at the table, and a genuine smile softened his features. You dug in, dousing the breakfast tacos in salsa verde.

“So good,” you said.

“I’m gonna have to bring you home, these breakfast tacos have nothing on the ones in Texas.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought of going home to Texas with Jake. Plunging into cool watering holes in the peak heat of the day, when the sun scorched so brightly you couldn’t walk outside without sweating. Hot summer nights where cicadas sung and you could see more stars than you ever thought possible. A football game under giant stadium lights, and he’d kiss you when his team won.

You’d never been to the state, but to hear Jake describe it, it was true love. Second only to you, of course.

Jake snuck a few sips of your coffee.

“Hey!” You plucked the cup out of his grasp. “That’s mine. Didn’t you get your own?”

“Already drank it,” he said around a bite of breakfast taco.

Try as you might, you couldn’t stay mad at that face, and you pretended not to notice the next time he stole a sip of your drink.

“So,” you dabbed a napkin to the corner of your mouth after you’d finished your second taco. “What errands did you have to run at the ass crack of dawn?”

“That is a surprise,” he said.

“Really?”

“Yep.” He swept the trash into the takeout bag. “Do you want to go find out?”

You wanted nothing more.

The clouds were like gray marble over the world and the wind ushered a chill into the late morning air. Even though you’d picked out the cutest outfit, you grabbed Jake’s hoodie and threw it on before you walked out the door. It was your favorite piece of clothing – it enveloped you like a hug – but you much preferred Jake himself sitting next to you in the driver’s seat, holding onto your hand like it was the most precious thing in the world. With him by your side, everything was better. Even his car smelled sweet, like fresh fruit.

He glared at the cloud cover. “I should have picked a better day.”

“It’s fine. I love this weather.” You rubbed your free hand over his bicep, and his hand relaxed against yours.

Soon, the ocean crested over the horizon. It churned dark gray, like a reflection of the sky, broken only by whitecaps. It wasn’t sunny like the beach days you and Jake had spent with the Daggers the past summer, but the sight was still beautiful.

Jake pulled into a parking lot on the bluffs overlooking the beach. As soon as you got out of the car, a gust of salty wind buffeted you. Jake tried to apologize, but your laugh rang clear over the whipping wind, and he had never known a sweeter sound. If he could hear your laugh for the rest of his life, he would be buried without a single regret.

He grabbed a picnic basket out of the trunk, took your hand, and walked you down to the beach, where the wind was creating chaos out of a picnic blanket and a bundle of pink and red balloons. Jake ran to bring order, but there was nothing he could do against nature itself.

“I’m sorry,” he said. A balloon bounced against his head. “It looked so nice when I set it up. This wind…”

“It’s ok. It’s still beautiful. Thank you.” You pecked him on the cheek. You were thankful, of course, but the surprise picnic loosened something inside of your chest. Why had he planned it? Had you actually forgotten an important day?

You sat criss-cross on the quilted blanket. With your weight holding it down, the blanket stayed in place against the wind. The balloons, however, shed their tether and danced away. Jake sprung up and gave them a quick chase, but they were much faster, and floating up towards the gray sky. He jumped, but he missed the ribbons by a few inches. Still, he ran after them for a few more yards.

When they were well out of reach, Jake jogged back. He was breathing heavily, and sand caked his feet and calves. You stopped him before he could try to apologize.

“I enjoyed them while they were here.” You looked up to see them still floating, heavenbound. “I’m still enjoying them now. Plus, I got to watch you run after them like a dork.”

“Hey!” He protested through strained breath.

“Kidding,” you said.

Jake started unpacking the picnic basket with flair. First, a bouquet of flowers – more than a dozen roses of your favorite color nestled between fluffy baby’s breath and sprigs of soft eucalyptus. Holding it made you feel like a bride.

A pang of anxiety struck you. You loved Jake. You couldn’t imagine your life without him. But you’d been dating less than a year, and you knew the rumors that servicemen moved fast. What would you say if he pulled out a ring?

You didn’t have time to worry; he was already pulling out a bowl of fruit. Strawberries, mangoes, kiwi, some cut into little hearts.

“Did you do this?” You grabbed a slice of kiwi shaped like a heart and popped it in your mouth. When he nodded, you asked, “How? When?”

“In the supermarket parking lot this morning. I brought a cutting board and a knife.”

He was dead serious. The thought of him, cutting board on his dash, carefully carving fruit for you in a parking lot made you laugh. No man had ever done anything that thoughtful for you.

Jake wondered if communion wine was as sweet as your laugh, as capable of salvation. He decided not.

He pulled out a bakery box last, and you noticed how carefully he held it. This must be the surprise. Your chest felt heavy as you imagined what could be inside.

You didn’t know what you would do if you opened the box to a cake that said Will you marry me? If you looked up and Jake was on one knee, his eyes sparkling like the ring in his hand, launching into a monologue about how he wanted to spend his life with you. Because you couldn’t deny how much you needed him, like cut flowers needed water. This brilliant man whose hard exterior crumbled with one look at you. Who knew you like an extension of himself. Who sat in a parking lot and cut heart-shaped fruit for you because he wanted to see you smile. You would do anything for him to stay yours. Yours to please. Yours to hold. Yours to love.

You couldn’t say no. You couldn’t lose him.

He set the box in front of you and took your hand in his. “Are you ready?”

“I’ve been ready for the past few hours.” You gave his hand a squeeze. This was it. You were on the precipice. The ocean roared down below. If he asked you to jump with him, would you?

Your breath caught in your chest as you lifted the lid. Inside, a frilly pink cake. In white frosting on the top, Will you be my Valentine?

A laugh shook you, and relief unfurled under your skin. You wrapped your arms around him with such force that you both fell onto the picnic blanket.

“Yes,” you said as you attacked his perfect face with kisses. “Yes, yes, yes.”

When he couldn’t take your onslaught any longer, he wrapped his giant arms around you and crushed you against his chest. There was no place safer for you in the entire world. You swore your hearts harmonized, both perfectly in time with the beat of the waves against the sand. You could have stayed like that forever, but eventually, Jake succumbed to the sweet allure of the cake and let you go. As he cut into the soft pink shells of buttercream, your mind drifted somewhere to the future. Your hands melded with his around a knife handle, slicing into another cake – this one at least three tiers tall and white.

Jake shook you from your daydream by offering you the first slice of pink cake.

It was delicious. Your favorite flavor and his, married perfectly between layers of dark and pale pink buttercream. As you ate, the impenetrable cloud cover finally yielded to the wind, and the sun stretched its lazy rays over the two of you. Somehow, Jake ended up with a dab of frosting on the tip of his nose. You swiped it away with the pad of your thumb and licked it clean.

You felt some relief at not getting engaged. But with the taste of cake in your mouth, and the golden sun warming Jake’s skin, you felt a tinge of bittersweetness. Maybe some part of you had wanted him to ask, even though it was so soon.

But you looked at the picnic spread – the heart-shaped fruit, the bursting bouquet, even the balloons, long since claimed by the sky – and you were assured it would not be long before he got down on one knee and asked for your hand.

You knew what your answer would be.

#top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fluff #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin

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yerimbrit · 4 months ago

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let you break my heart again : m. danielle

synopsis: was it wrong of her to miss you, even though she was the one that got away?

# : pairing ! danielle marsh x gn!reader

# : tags ! part 2 of lovergirl, angst with a happy ending, fr this time, from dani's perspective, best friends to strangers to lovers, unresolved feelings, title from a laufey song, i listened to a lot of niki and w2e to cry this out, this could go two ways: i'm sorry for making this; and i'm happy you cried

# : wordcount ! 8.1k

# : warnings ! none

danielle thought that leaving you would help her forget about you.

keyword: thought. because all she could think of since returning to korea is you.

the night before she left, you had a sleepover with her. danielle's sudden departure was unplanned—she was supposed to leave three days later. it's not like she was expecting to leave in the dead of night, either.

when she debuted in newjeans, she was able to distract herself from you, albeit only somewhat. the schedules��photoshoots, recordings, music video filming and whatnot—they keep her busy, leaving no time for her to think about her unresolved feelings.

but on her off-days, when their ceo graciously grants them a break (which, unfortunately, is pretty often. a blessing and a curse within itself) she's left with plenty of time alone with her thoughts, when she's not with her family or members. it also gives her plenty of time to think about you and your awkward, charming little smile.

okay, she admits it. she misses you. a lot. it's like life without carrots... that's a bad example. it's like... the moon without the sun. you two were like two peas in a pod.

and then danielle went and ruined it all by leaving. all to escape the feelings she harbored for you. but the words uttered that night were simply too dangerous. too... tantalizing. and if she had taken the chance, she would've chosen you over her career.

"dani?"

her inner dilemma is interrupted by a sweet-sounding voice—hanni, her older member who she's very close to. danielle is handed a plastic water bottle, cold to the touch, and she gratefully accepts it from the shorter girl's offering hands. the cool liquid flows smoothly down her throat, refreshing her senses after the exhausting performance they just had for their comeback.

hanni rests her hand on danielle's shoulder in concern. "you okay?"

"yeah," she answers, twirling a strand of her curly hair with her pointer finger, "just thinking about home."

a pause. the older girl purses her lips, and sighs. whenever danielle thinks about home, she gets into this mood.

it has three levels: one. she's a little down, but will invite the first person she sees out for a walk. and instead of being the one talking, she urges them to be the talker for the day; the opposite of how she usually is.

two: she's really down. it won't just be a walk, she'll be out of it most of the time, and will need to be distracted by something extraordinary, like a beach picnic on a nice, sunny and warm day with lots of fruits and vegetables, and extra carrots of course. that, or visiting haerin's dog.

...and three: she won't leave her room at all. nothing will get her out, not even carrots or a cute animal sighting outside of the newjeans dorm. no one is allowed in, and if you pressed your ear against the door you could very faintly hear her breaking down. after almost a day, one of the girls is let in to give her dinner and maybe stay for a few minutes for emotional support. (it's random every time, but haerin is usually the one to go.)

right now, she's in stage two. it was a simple music bank performance, but she'd allowed herself to make a couple of mistakes in the choreography once the line that reminds her of you was sung. on top of that, she had around five dance challenges to film with various idols, and those tired her out one after another.

sometimes, she questions the necessity of these tiktoks. sure, she gets to meet a lot of people, and that's fun because everyone is just so nice, but lately she's been wanting to just go home.

she's pulled up by the shorter vietnamese girl, out of her sitting spot in their green room. minji and hyein are by the door behind them, and haerin could be seen talking to their manager just outside.

"well, it's time to go home. what do you say about watching the little mermaid after dinner?"

danielle wanted to go straight to her room and faceplant into her bed, but she can never say no to watching the little mermaid.

"deal."

hanni grins and takes a step back. "and you know you can talk to us."

the statement makes her bite her lip. it's true, she knows that. she's confided in them a few times, but they don't know much about you other than the fact you were childhood friends and that danielle is very much still in love with you.

"i know."

with that, they set off to go back to the dorm.

everyone falls asleep in the van except her. the sky has turned dark, and all she could see outside is the city lights zooming by.

she's taken back to the nightly walks that were a regular for the two of you. you always said that something about it speaks to you, the way the moon casts an illuminated glow over the scenery.

you'd always adored the city lights. and danielle adores you.

it's chilly out on the rooftop, though soon it'll turn to hot, humid summer nights. danielle doesn't mind it; it reminds her of australian summers.

she sighs and leans against the railing. she still hasn't quite snapped out of her despondent state, despite hanni's best efforts to cheer her up via happy disney movie.

tonight is a waxing crescent moon. it's accompanied by the twinkling stars which light up the night sky. it's beautiful—danielle wants to just reach out and grab them, hold them up to her face so she can admire their beauty from up close.

alas, she can't. so she takes a lollipop out from her pocket and unwraps it. her mom always says to not have sugar late at night, but she supposes today is a special occasion. when was the last time she got to enjoy a good old late night snack, anyway?

it's a burst of cherry that she tastes as soon as the candy touches her tongue. maybe she should've picked green apple. or watermelon. cherry is getting kind of old.

a breeze blows by, and danielle shivers. her fatigue has been making her more susceptible to the cold. she pulls the sleeves of your her worn out hoodie over her hands, and takes a deep breath. it doesn't smell like you anymore, but it does create the illusion of being held in your embrace. hanni and minji have told her to get rid of it countless times, but she can't bring herself to. every time she tries, it's like the mickey mouse on the front of the garment is mocking her. "this is like, the last thing you have of her. you're not really gonna throw me away, are you?"

"i miss you," she says to no one in particular. no one that is currently present, anyway. you're probably still in australia, with new friends and new beginnings. or maybe you've started planning the opening of that bookstore you were going to open with her. except you'd be opening it without her now.

"i still love you. i meant what i said at the sleepover," danielle sniffles into the sleeve. "i don't know if you remember, you were sleeping. you're so cute when you're sleeping, is that weird to say?" she laughs, the tears still burning in her eyes. she wipes them away using the back of her hand. and, just for a moment, she swears she can smell you when she pulls on the drawstrings to bring the fabric tighter against her skin.

("you can't be serious."

danielle giggles as she feels your body sink into the space beside her on the mattress.

"you think i could make that up?" she teases, her gaze flickering over to you. you're now leaning on your palm, facing your body to danielle.

you fake a wince, holding your hand to your chest as if her words shot thorns through your heart. "ouch. you don't think i believe you?"

the soon-to-be trainee only shrugs, moving to lay flat on her back. your room is completely dark, save for the plethora of barely functioning glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling. danielle feels your breath fanning her neck. "i do think you believe me."

"but there's no way he actually said that to her."

"you'll really just have to trust me on this one, y/nnie."

there's no response after that. danielle turns her head in your direction, watching your soft features fully relax in dim, pale-green lighting. there have been many times where she has seen this exact scene, from the numerous sleepovers you've had, but this one is different.

danielle fixes your position so that your head is tucked under her chin. she buries her head into your hair.

and it may seem cliché to do this while you're in a peaceful slumber, but she takes the leap of faith anyway. she's not naïve, she can pick up on the hints you drop her. she knows that you stare at her every chance you get, when you think she's not looking. that you do the littlest things for her, that you wouldn't even think of doing for others. that she could tell you to fetch the moon for her, and you'd come back with the whole milky way galaxy in your arms.

and she won't lie; she would do the same. she does do the same.

you, the moon to her sun. her breath of fresh air in a suffocating labyrinth. her source of light in the dark.

"i love you.")

fearing rejection, danielle snuck out in the middle of that night, going back home to pack her bags and catch the earliest flight to korea. to this day, she doesn't know why she did it. spur of the moment? or pure cowardice?

"i miss you so much. i should've stayed," she weeps into the night, wiping hot tears with the dark blue material. it's soaked at this point; she'd need to give it another thorough wash. "do you still love me?"

danielle wonders if you have ever spent a night breaking down under the stars, like she has done many times before. she wonders if her feelings will reach you, if all the things she's told the stars about you have overflowed all the way to where you were.

she gazes up at the sky one last time before shuffling back down to the dorm. her steps feel heavier, and she's exhausted. it feels like she could pass out any minute, but she'd much prefer to do that after she's in bed.

all the lights are off, which means everyone is probably sleeping—it's past midnight, after all. danielle quickly discards the finished lollipop stick and wrapper in the kitchen trashcan, and makes her way over to the corridor leading to their rooms. haerin's door is slightly ajar, an unspoken message of 'if you need me, just come in' that had been established since their trainee days, a habit that started when danielle started opening herself up to the other girls. the younger girl's company is appreciated and very comforting, but she won't need it tonight.

the australian languidly opened her bedroom door, sauntering through the entrance before shutting it behind her with a quiet thud. she maneuvers herself as best as she can through the mess that is her room, making a beeline for her bed. in the process, she bumps into a box with her foot, nearly falling over.

"wha-!" she yelps, taking a moment to catch her breath before her expression softens. she cautiously steps over the box to turn on her desk lamp, then moves the box to the desk to reveal its contents. it's filled with a bunch of her old stuff from australia.

school merch, trinkets and toys, old school projects, and more. what danielle focuses on is the pristine photo album sitting on top of the pile, and upon removing it, an unopened letter.

she can already feel more tears welling in her eyes.

as much as she'd like to go straight to reading the letter, she goes through the photo album first. unsurprisingly, it's full of her baby photos and family pictures. but as the her in the photos got older, she gained a companion... you.

at this point danielle's crying again. she'll have to remind herself to drink water later.

the both of you look so happy. so innocent. you and her covered in mud from that one day at the park. her feeding you ice cream at the local diner. you and her smiling at each other while holding hands. danielle can remember all of these so vividly, especially the latter; it was the day that you jokingly declared that you'd marry her when the two of you grew up.

she sets the album down, still open, to finally read the letter. it's very delicately packed, with 'danielle' written neatly on the front of the envelope. the ink has slightly faded over time, but it's still legible.

"dani,

isn't this so cheesy? writing a letter, i mean. remember when we'd write letters to each other when i was in sydney for like a month? i still have those letters, even though it's been around 4 years. i thought writing a letter would capture my feelings a little more, you know?

i like you. wait, scratch that. i love you. since we were 7, actually. and even after 11 years, my feelings have never faded. they seem to have grown even more since then.

and i'll just say that if you don't feel the same, that's okay. i just wanted to tell you. you can just forget this ever happened. but on the off chance that you reciprocate... please come to my door so we can talk. or anywhere, really. maybe we should use a codeword for that situation. how about... "carrot loves moon"? sorry, i just thought of that, haha.

i know you're going away soon. make sure to keep in touch. i wish to stay your best friend forever, so do remember that i'm there for you wherever and whenever. whether its by text, or call. i want you to know that i will be there for you even if its not in person.

good luck, y/n :)"

danielle drops the lined paper onto the table, feeling her knees wobble and causing her to crumple onto the floor from her standing position at her desk. the tears are overflowing once again, and she pulls your hoodie closer to her body. the warmth she once felt, replicating your embrace, is gone.

you, are gone.

danielle had left you.

"are you...?" hyein blinks at danielle, trailing off once she sees the older girl's red, puffy eyes. danielle is one of the last ones to climb into their manager's van, with minji helping her get in.

it's around five am, and the day of the fansign. danielle doesn't remember when she went to sleep, but it was definitely not nearly enough to get her through the day. the first thing on the schedule is go to the salon and stay there for a few hours, then travel to the venue, order some takeout to eat for breakfast, and then get some practice in for the mini performances they're going to do at the signing. another long day, to no one's surprise.

despite the very terrible night she had, danielle manages to muster up a smile for the youngest. "i'm good."

hyein chooses not to comment any further. minji, on the other hand, who is sitting in the seat in front of the australian, turns around and her seat and frowns. "you were crying last night," she points out.

"i was."

it must've been noticeable to the girls staying in the rooms next to hers. she can't help herself though. last night in particular was one of the worst, especially with the discovery of your letter. how... how could she be such an idiot?

minji falls silent. danielle focuses on the passing scenery, a familiar route to the salon. although all she can really see are buildings, buildings, and... more buildings. hyein reaches over and gives her hand a light squeeze. the warmth of her hand makes her smile.

"let's go on a picnic on our next free day, are you up for it unnie?" the youngest whispers.

she turns to meet the girl's enthusiastic, but comforting gaze. "of course," she whispers back. "we can eat those strawberries we picked recently, too."

as per usual, hyein's eyes sparkle at the mention of strawberries. it's cute, and seems to cheer up danielle instantly. "and we can have carrots and cherries too! i'm so excited, dani-unnie..."

hanni and minji giggle quietly at their hushed conversation. hyein always knows how to brighten up the girl's day. it's haerin and hyein who are the certified dani-cheerer-uppers, but haerin is asleep in the passenger's seat.

the van pulls over to a secluded parking lot. danielle squeezes hyein's hand before they have to exit the vehicle. "i'm excited too! here's hoping there's nice weather soon. it's been kind of gloomy all week... i miss the sun."

the youngest beams at her. she reciprocates the gesture, this time being the first genuine smile in weeks.

maybe today will be a good day.

danielle's been getting bad vibes today.

she just can't put her finger on it. from the moment that the group set foot in the venue for the fansign, she's been getting this... unsettling feeling swirling around in her gut. but it doesn't make any sense. their trip to the salon went by faster than usual, meaning they had a considerable amount of time to enjoy breakfast, and have time to kill before they had to go up to practice. practice, by the way, went perfectly.

so why did she have this dreading feeling spreading throughout her body?

"you seem fine to me," haerin rests the back of her hand on danielle's forehead.

they both frown. "but then why's it burning?"

minji approaches the pair. they're in the green room, which is more lavish than any of the girls expected before coming here. although, the fluorescent lights are pretty blinding, that being something everyone can agree with. "what's burning?"

danielle scrunches up her face and rests a hand over her stomach, but switches to cover her heart. "somewhere between here and here. but i don't know what it is."

"it's not too warm in here, is it?" the older asks, looking around.

the cat-eyed girl blinks, "it's pretty cool in here, actually. do you feel warm, dani-unnie?"

danielle shakes her head. she doesn't feel neither cold nor warm; her outfit for the day does well to balance her temperature, so her issue is definitely internal. something's about to happen, she can feel it. literally.

a staff member peeks their head in the doorway. "newjeans, up in five minutes!"

oh well. guess the only way to find out is to face it.

"i really loved your lines in the title track, danielle!" an excited fan smiles as she shakes their hand.

despite her earlier struggle, danielle gives them a wide smile. interacting with her fans is one of her favorite things, they just mean the world to her. "thank you so much! i really liked my lines, too, especially in the bridge."

the fan enthusiastically agrees, and they both talk about their favorite songs on newjeans' 2nd full album, and also about danielle's latest appearance on 'chuu can do it'.

that's when she feels it again. that burning feeling in her gut. she glances around without turning her head, and she spots something—or rather, someone—taking their seat at the start of the table, in front of minji. no, it can't be, can it?

the line moves up and the closer the person gets, the more danielle's heart thuds against her chest. she tries to focus on the fan in front of her, but she can't help but sneak glimpses of the person every so often. when they get to hanni, it starts to get clearer and clearer.

your voice. your eyes, your lips, your everything.

danielle can't breathe.

"thank you," she chokes out, "for your support," she manages to grin at the fan as they get up to return to their seat. they look like they're about to say something, but the timer goes off and they have to leave with a look of concern.

thump. thump. thump.

you're looking down as you slide over with the signed album, one member's signature missing from the front.

suddenly danielle can feel herself be transported back to when she was 17. 17, at the beach with you, her pair of sneakers in one hand and your hand in the other. 17, at sunrise, the tide just barely grazing her feet, the wind tousling up her wavy hair. it's comforting just being in your presence; there's no words needed to be said.

tears well up in her eyes for what feels like the millionth time this week, and she narrowly catches the bite of your lip.

it takes her a moment, but she's able to say a single word. she's said it before, hundreds of thousands of times, but it's her first time saying it to you directly in six years.

your name. it's a beautiful name, she's thought that it was a beautiful name from the moment she met you. in fact; it was the first thing she had ever said to you, back when you and her were at the unruly age of six.

"y/n," she croaks out through the tears.

there's a stroke of hesitation in your eyes when you look up to meet her gaze.

the seconds go by slowly. your staring lasts for what seems like hours. danielle can only get so lost in your eyes before she says something she'll regret.

then, you spoke. "hi, dani."

dani. everyone calls her dani. but the nickname has always rolled off your tongue so nicely. it's music to her ears—both your voice and the way you say her name.

the conversation falls silent. she can briefly hear hyein's laugh two seats over, before she swallows thickly.

she has to say something. you don't seem like you're going to say anything, so she has to. she absolutely can't waste this moment. think, danielle, think! what's something that she could... say...

"carrot loves moon," she blurts out at the speed of light.

you're taken aback, she can see that. danielle almost wants to get up and run all the way back to the dorm so she can scream into her sun plushie. almost. but she takes a deep breath and repeats the codeword, firmly this time.

"carrot loves moon."

you move to rest your hand over hers, but stop midway. danielle's heart breaks at the action.

"dani..."

do you not love her anymore? did you really just come here as a fan? not to rekindle your relationship with her?

"let's talk, um, y/n. later. i, um," she coughs. her face feels like it's on fire right now. "here's my number," she whispers as she scribbles down the digits on a piece of paper she had in her pocket.

you reluctantly take the now folded note from her hold, fingers brushing against hers in an electrifying spark. you both flinch from the shock, and it causes her to widen her eyes.

instead of awkwardly brushing it off like she thought you would, though, you start laughing. and god, did danielle miss your laugh. it's her favorite sound, it's always been.

"sorry, sorry." you breathe out, after your laughter fizzes out.

you reach out to rest your hand on hers, not pausing this time. your hands are so warm.

and this time, you purposely turn your head so that you're staring into her eyes.

"i missed you, dani. i... i missed us."

'i missed you so much that i cried every night i was away from you, as a trainee. i missed you so much that i ruin your favorite hoodie with tears every time i wear it. i missed you. and i really, really want to kiss you, now more than ever because i missed all those chances back when we were in school,' she wants to say. but the clicks of cameras and fans cheering (minji and haerin probably did a pose together) remind her that you're at a fanmeeting. and that hanni and the fan in front of the vietnamese may as well be listening in on your conversation.

"i missed us too. and especially you..."

the ten second warning gets called, and you squeeze her hand tightly before slowly getting up with your signed album, still missing danielle's signature. wait, she forgot to sign it!

before you go, you pull out the folded note and flash a thumbs up with a small, crooked smile. danielle smiles back, wiping her tears and waving.

beside her, hanni looks at the other australian with her mouth agape.

danielle has a lot of explaining to do. but, she has other things to do. like texting you as soon as the fansign is over.

danielle loves the moon more than the moon will ever know.

the ride home is silent, again. it's an unspoken agreement—to wait until they got to the apartment before they talk about what happened today. danielle barely pokes at the food they order post-fansign, but even now she's not hungry quite yet.

every five seconds she checks her phone for any notifications from you. there hasn't been anything yet. any other day of thinking about you would've led to a more plaintive, gloomy danielle. but today...

"we're here," their manager turns to the girls. it's nearing sunset, since the fansign lasted three hours and they had a late lunch, chatting for around an hour during. after that they had a couple of errands to run so the newjeans members are all pretty exhausted.

the manager opens the door for haerin, who is sitting in the passenger's seat, and then goes to open the sliding door for the rest of the group.

they all follow their manager to the entrance. then once they're inside, they follow minji to rhe living room where they all took their respective seats: minji and hanni on the main couch, haerin and hyein on the beanbags, and danielle on the floor facing the two eldest.

"so," minji crosses her legs. hyein and haerin watch her and follow suit. hanni looks away to hide a chuckle.

danielle adjusts her position, sitting criss-crossed on the fluffy rug. it's soft on her legs, and she drags her hand back and forth against it absentmindedly.

hanni leans forward, hands on her knees as she gets awfully close to the younger girl. "that was y/n, wasn't it."

"your y/n," minji adds.

her y/n. it makes her giddy just thinking about it.

"stop giggling," the vietnamese groans, "we need to talk about this!"

danielle's phone buzzes, and she pulls it out to check without answering hanni. hyein notices this and snatches it out of her grip.

"hyeinie!" she whines, "what if that was-"

the younger squints at the screen, "it's just an ad..."

hanni clears her throat, making everyone direct their attention to her. minji furrows her brow, "if that was your y/n, then shouldn't we deserve at least some kind of explanation of your history together?"

something falls from the kitchen. danielle rises to go check it out, but haerin holds her down like a security guard at an interrogation.

"we grew up together," she surrenders. it was no use trying to escape at this point.

so she tells them everything. everything. from your bright and energetic first meeting, to the sleepover that was the calm before the storm, to the tear-stained letter and to your sweater she still needs to wash. every word that comes out of her mouth has a touch of fondness; now that she's been able to see you, it's less of sorrowfulness that is resting on her tongue, and more of a bittersweet drop of reminiscence.

everyone is left speechless when she finishes her recounting of her life with you. it's unsurprising; danielle has never talked about you much aside from your name and old mementos she kept. it has ventured into more of a foreign topic, unsure of whether or not they're ready to venture into the unknown that is you.

"dani..." hanni kneels on the floor next to the girl, capturing her in a comforting embrace. soon the other girls join in, and it becomes a soothing group hug—something danielle needs very much. the weight of the hug is enough to break down her vulnerable walls, and all of the pent-up emotions that have aged well over the years flow out like a mountain river.

for the first time, danielle has truly opened herself up to her friends.

time slows, and they're stuck in the same position for more than a few moments. hanni, minji, haerin, hyein—they've been patient with her for more than five years, been there for her at her lowest, and cheer her up when she needs it. danielle's crying not only because she told the truth, but because of how supportive her friends are. through grueling practice sessions, tough stages, colds and flus, lyrics and songs. their embrace only confirmed it: no matter what, they've got each others' backs.

"thank you," she sniffles but groans slightly. it hurts a little since hyein is squeezing her from the back, and it's gotten hard to breathe with so many people compressed together, but danielle wouldn't have it any other way. "i love you guys."

she gets a variety of responses: 'i love you too' (minji), 'i love you more' (hanni), 'i love you most' (hyein), and a soft squeeze on her forearm (haerin) and it makes her laugh out loud.

the hug is broken, and teary smiles are shared throughout the group. the two eldest get up and make their way to the kitchen, and hyein goes along with them. danielle moves to the main couch, and haerin follows after. she rests her head on the feline's shoulder, who promptly begins to play with her hands. hanni and minji's bickering serves as white noise to the pair.

danielle almost forgets about your incoming text. almost. that is, until hyein yells from the kitchen, disrupting whatever deep slumber the australian was about to fall into.

"you got a text, unnie!" the maknae stumbles back into the living room. she has a manic look in her eyes, which quickly spread to danielle, and she gets her phone back. the remaining two girls come in after, and they're now surrounding her around the couch.

unknown number hey it's y/n

it's just a simple greeting, but it makes danielle kick her feet against the sofa in excitement.

she glances around to the other girls, "what, what do i say!?"

"just say hi back!" she receives from minji. before she could type out a response, though, you text again.

unknown number this is the right number right?

danielle feels traces of movement behind her, and she looks to see it's hanni and minji (are we surprised?) leaning too far forward in order to see her phone screen. she instantly shoos them back with a wave of her hand.

you HI hi yes it's dani!

she changes your contact name. beside her, haerin gives her a side-eye.

ynnie hi dani

("move over!" hanni shoves minji to the side.)

"ask for a picture!" minji advises. danielle cocks her head to the side curiously.

"why?"

"for the profile picture...?"

you sry could you send a pic? for your contact photo ynnie oh ok [attachment: 1 image]

a wave of warmth washes over danielle's face. it's a selfie of you taken from what looks to be the sofa of a decent hotel room, with you sporting your signature smile (you still have those dimples!) and holding up the classic v-sign. she squeals with a way-too-happy smile on her face.

"they're so cute!"

(obscured from her view due to her outburst, haerin and minji shake their heads in sync.)

ynnie id ask for a pic too but you're everywhere on the net haha actually can you send one? you i thought i was everywhere on the net? ynnie exclusive selfie...

danielle's giggles get more and more obnoxious. it makes hanni groan and feign a gag.

you you just want me all to yourself don't you 🤭

you don't respond for a few seconds. oh no. is that too much? you just reunited a few hours ago, she should've waited at least a little longer before talking to you like that!

ynnie yeah i do

hanni makes an exaggerated groan and faceplants into the couch. haerin grins, although she can't tell whether or not it's at her conversation with you, or hanni's theatrical reaction. it's probably the latter.

ynnie you wanted to talk right?

her phone is snatched out of her grip again. hanni types away on the device, to danielle's horror.

"what are you doing!?"

"you guys are taking too long!" she's handed back the phone to see what the older girl sent. oh crap.

you can i call u?

"what the hell unnie!" danielle stands up in protest. the culprit gives her a toothy grin. she takes back whatever nice thing she's said about hanni pham so far. as she's about to start chasing her around the spacious living room, her phone rings. did you... actually call?

not wanting everyone to interrupt, she makes a wild dash to her room and locks the door behind her in a rush. her hands shake as she hovers her index finger over the green 'answer' button.

"hello?" your voice crackles out from her phone speaker. it's a relief to hear you once again. danielle sits on the edge of her bed, taking a nearby stuffed animal and using it as a stress toy. it's a blonde hamster plushie with a two-toned backwards cap on, one that hyein earnestly worked for at the claw machines while they were in japan. danielle can still remember the pride displayed on the youngest's face when she held it out for her to take.

"hi, y/n. again..."

"did you... need something?"

you sound really tired, and your voice is really raspy. like you just woke up from a really good nap. now danielle feels bad, all because hanni decided to tell you to call her. speaking of naps, images of your sleeping form at the sleepover flash in her mind and her face burns red.

"u-um," she hums softly. she can't think of anything to say, so she hopes her hesitance to answer pushes you to read her mind from the other side. and it seems to work, because you talk before she could go into some incoherent rant about everything and nothing.

"where did you want to meet? oh, actually, i found a nice and quiet café earlier today. it's kind of tucked in a corner and there weren't that many people there... maybe because it was early. but we could go if you're down."

danielle leans back to lay on the bed. she keeps the hamster plush close to her, lightly kicking her feet against the mattress. "that, that sounds good. send me the location?"

"sure. when are you free?"

she stopped to think. her and hanni have a photoshoot for vogue the next day, but the day after that, saturday, she's free.

"saturday."

"it's a date, then." and you hang up.

danielle hides her face behind her hands and squeals. the bed has sunken where she's been kicking her feet, and the hamster plushie that hyein gifted her... the poor thing, its face is also sunken in from her squeezing.

sorry, benedict.

danielle can't focus.

"let's take five! hopefully you can get yourself together, danielle-ssi."

the staff helping with the shoot disperse into groups, some lingering off to the side to chat and some going to the refreshment stands.

hanni presses her lips in a thin line, resting her hand on danielle's exposed shoulder. "look bro, i know you can't wait to meet y/n tomorrow but we have to get this done. the sooner we finish, the sooner you can go home and rest up, yeah?"

of course danielle wants to finish the shoot. she feels bad that her lack of focus is causing everyone inconvenience, yes, but when she thinks about meeting you tomorrow she just freezes up. the mood of your conversation yesterday was lighthearted, but what they're going to talk about at the café is anything but.

in less than a minute, some staff come back to touch up the girls' makeup. hanni takes it as an opportunity to continue the conversation. "it's not like you're on bad terms now? i mean, even after the dramatic reunion at the fansign, you talked just fine over the phone."

hanni is right, they did talk fine while texting and during the call. it almost felt like danielle was still in highschool, talking to you late at night while exchanging cringy lines bordering flirtation and smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. but that was over the phone and she has to meet you in person. and it's different from the fansign because you're going to be seeing her one-on-one for longer than just two minutes.

the older girl snaps her fingers, bringing danielle out of her internal monologue. "you're overthinking it," she sighs, "i wish y/n could just tell you that everything is okay instead of you failing to gaslight yourself."

danielle's phone dings, and she whips it out faster than the other girl can even blink. hanni stares in disbelief.

ynnie hey still on for tmr?

and just like that, five words from you have turned danielle into a blushing schoolgirl once again.

you yes! i'll see u there xx

she suddenly remembers the fiasco that was last night, and she brings her phone out of her member's reach and sends her a dirty look. she raises both of her hands up in defense. the staff move away to re-prepare for the shoot.

"y/n's all yours, girl."

they finish the shoot in record time.

danielle arrives at the café early in the morning, and just as you said, it's almost empty at this time. she's feeling a mix of anxiety and hope, though more the former. she thought that maybe you didn't still... love her, but... well, she doesn't know anymore judging by your responses and texts to her throughout the day.

she adjusts her mask and cap and finds a seat in the corner of the shop, ordering an iced americano and an iced mocha latte. danielle doesn't know if you still favor bitterness over sweetness, but she hopes you appreciate the gesture.

the atmosphere in this place is calming. some slow r&b is playing over the speakers, and someone's typing in another corner serves as makeshift asmr for her ears. she's amazed at how you managed to find such a place on your first visit.

it's only 7:15; she's fairly early to the planned time. she thought it would be nice to walk to the shop and enjoy the city sights before rush hour.

the bells of the entry door toll in the tune of the westminster chime, and it attracts the attention of no one other than danielle. there you walk in, a searching gaze affixed to your eyes, until you eventually meet hers. a slight smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

"hi," you say, gently sitting down in the seat across from her. danielle pushes the cup of coffee towards you, and you shoot a knowing glance before taking a sip. a satisfied smile fully settles on your face, now. it sends shocks through danielle's heart.

"hi," she echoes, taking a sip of her own drink. "you like bitter right?"

"i love bitter. i can't believe you remember that."

"you'd be surprised."

silence befalls upon them. you take another sip of your drink, and danielle clears her throat, staring down at the table. she can't find it in herself to look you in the eye.

"i'm sorry."

'for not reaching out. for leaving too soon.'

"i'm sorry too."

your apology makes danielle look up in surprise. why are you apologizing? you didn't... you didn't do anything wrong.

"i should've at least tried to reach out," you answer her inner thoughts. the tension grows palpable as danielle tries to sort her words out. she pulls her cap off and sets it on top of her bag.

"it's my fault," she takes a deep breath. "i wasn't supposed to leave that day, you know?"

"i know."

"it's because of what happened at the—"

"—the sleepover," you breathe out, eyes softening when you move to place your hand over hers, albeit shakily. "i heard you."

her eyes widen. you squeeze her hand.

"i wasn't... actually asleep."

"why didn't you..."

"well, i fell asleep right after. and, by the time i woke up you were gone. packed your bags and left."

"i'm sorry," danielle says again. hot tears drip down her cheeks. "i still love you."

the chair screeches and for a second, she thinks you'd gone and left just like she did all those years ago. but you make your way over to her and wipe her tears, bringing her into a tight hug.

"moon loves carrot even more," you let out a watery laugh. "that's what i was going to say if you ever came up to my door and recited those codewords."

danielle would start sobbing if you weren't sitting in a café in the morning. so she does the next best thing and clings onto you even tighter. "i missed you so much, y/nnie. every time i was back home, i'd pass by our school and i'd just start crying. i didn't know if you were still home, and if you were then i've never seen you. not until you came on thursday."

she pulls back from your hug to blow her nose in a napkin. "why did you come?"

you ponder for a moment, drumming the tips of your fingers against the wooden surface. "for the fansign. i'm here for another two weeks."

danielle furrows her brow. that didn't really answer her question. "but why'd you come to the fansign? unless you became a fan. in that case, that's—"

"okay, enough out of you little missy. so what if i became a fan. i came for you, of course."

and she's back to being giddy again. being able to talk to you like this lifts a huge weight off of her shoulders.

"i guess i was just really desperate to reconnect with you. i spent a shit ton of money on a bunch of your new album so i could get in. i got my cousin in on it, too."

you take a big gulp of your coffee. the spot danielle chose wasn't very suitable for combating the heat. it's next to the window, which let the sunlight through, and it's not near any fans or air conditioning. she winces, and tries to cool herself by also drinking her latte. "you did all that? for me?"

you bring your gaze to look deep into danielle's eyes, causing her to shrink back slightly. "i'd do anything for you even now."

"ah," she squeaks out. her mind goes blank and then her thoughts start spiraling.

"wanna come over?" she says hastily, crossing her leg over the other.

you blink back at her in confusion, but your expression morphs into one of intrigue. "sure?"

"wait. not now," she abruptly stands up from her seat. "i need to clean!"

putting her mask and cap back on, she storms out of the establishment, leaving you there in bewilderment.

what did she just get herself into.

"what are you doing here?" is the first thing haerin says to you when she opens the door of their dorm to see your face. you gulp, and the feline smirks inwardly.

"uh, dani," you answer, not wanting to embarrass yourself with your poor korean skills. you could understand a little bit, thankfully more than how you started out, but you couldn't speak well.

haerin glares, looking you up and down. you grimace under her scrutinizing gaze. "you're not going to hurt her, are you?" her voice is stern but holds an immense level of concern for her friend.

widening your eyes, you shook your hands in front of you almost comically. this time, you answer in english. "no! no, none of that. i promise."

she continues to stare at you with a now unreadable expression on her face. that is, until danielle pushes her to the side to greet you with a bright smile.

"come in! i just speed-cleaned my room, that's so embarrassing. haerinnie didn't scare you, did she?"

"i don't know what you're talking about," calls out a voice from the side.

you laugh, shaking your head. "but it did feel like i was being interrogated by the strict parent."

danielle blushes. haerin is so protective of her, even though she's younger.

she takes your hand and leads you to her room. it's spacious, and is very neat. presumably because she just finished cleaning it. splashes of color are placed fashionably around the room, and her bed is filled with fluffy pillows and stuffed animals. benedict is tucked into a sky blue comforter.

"ta-da!" she presents with jazz hands. the gesture makes you chuckle. you walk to her desk and smile, picking up a six year old tear-stained letter. uh oh.

"you kept it," you say wistfully, fingers running over the fading ink. "and," you gasp, holding up the aged sweater, "my favorite sweater!"

"um, sorry for keeping it," she mutters abashedly, wrapping her arms around herself as if she is cold. which is ironic, since they were just in crazily blazing heat.

you approach the girl, draping the mickey mouse sweater back over her chair and reaching up a hand to pinch her cheek. "it's okay. i just wish i could see you in it. i bet you look way better than me."

danielle brings her gaze up to see you, eyes auto-focusing on your lips. uh oh, again. danielle really wants to kiss you.

so she does just that! getting on her tip-toes and cupping your cheeks with her hands so she could press her lips against yours. it's... bitter. from your iced americano. but the feeling of kissing you is extremely pleasant, way better than she's ever imagined. and before danielle could second-guess herself just kissing you out of nowhere, you kiss back and set your hands on her hips, setting another level of magic to danielle's world.

"oh my god," she says breathlessly, hands still on your cheeks.

you lift her up in your arms, causing her to let out a yelp, then carrying her to the bed and laying down next to her with a burst of laughter. "oh my god, indeed."

she turns to face you, a permanent smile on her face. she leans in for another kiss. "i love you."

"like a best friend?"

danielle punches your shoulder.

"ow! sorry! i love you too."

just as she's about to say some more cheesy lines, her door bursts open and four other figures come crashing down into her room. danielle sits up, petrified.

"guys!"

you sigh in content, watching her bicker with her members in a flustered state.

danielle marsh is and will always be your lovergirl.

("you know, for someone who has such a warm personality, i thought your hands would always be warm, too."

danielle looks at you surprised. the two of you are laying in her bed, fingers interlaced, after she successfully drove off her nosy members. "what do you mean?

you bring her hand up to feel against your cheek. her touch is ice cold. the action makes her flush deeply. "you're so cold!" you whine out, "can't you feel so much hotter my face is because your hands are cold!?"

"i—well—maybe you've just been captured by my charms and that's why you're blushing!"

"...touché, dani. still cold, though."

she directs her gaze to her ceiling. there's nothing in particular, unlike your room which had those green glow-in-the-dark stars. "that's why i can't sleep without a heating pad. i'm very cold-sensitive, especially since the ac is always on blast..."

danielle reaches over the side of the bed to pull out the mentioned heating pad. you can just barely see the carrot-patterned heat pack you'd gotten her for christmas, seven years ago.

"you still have this old thing?" you murmur softly.

the girl smiles at you. "cause... it reminds me of you. that's another reason i can't sleep without it."

"..."

you pull her in for a hug, pressing a kiss on top of her head. "i still have that dog plushie you won for me at the fair."

"no. way. really!? it's jerry senior!")

a/n: i hope you're happy guys lovergirl pt2 is FINALLY OUT it was dreadful i fear

#newjeans x reader #newjeans #danielle marsh x reader #girl group imagines #girl group x reader #newjeans imagines #mo jihye x reader #danielle x reader #danielle newjeans #danielle marsh newjeans

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wileys-russo · 11 months ago

Note

not sure if you’d like this idea but i keep seeing this trend of coloring in your partners tattoos and imagine a blurb where reader is doing this with alexia or mapi <33

feels so weird to write mapi or ingrid without the other tbh colouring book II m.león

"hola amor!" you called out as you returned home from work, utterly exhausted as you swung the door closed behind you, frowning as your girlfriend was nowhere to be seen.

"maría?" you sung out, dropping your bag on the counter and wandering around the flat, popping your head in and out of each room. finally, as you entered your bedroom you breathed a sigh of relief.

your girlfriends back was faced toward you sat outside in the late afternoon sun on the balcony of your bedroom, clearly focused on something as you made your way over.

opening the doors you quickly realised why she hadn't heard you, between the gentle buzz of her tattoo gun and the music playing from her phone you clearly caught the older girl off guard as she looked up in surprise.

"more?" you shook your head with a smile, the girl tattooing what looked like a sword on her ankle. "i told you bebita, they are addictive!" the spaniard grinned, flicking off the gun and wiping down the fresh ink with a sanitary pad.

"like it? my lines are getting very good." mapi beamed flashing her new tattoo toward you as you hummed taking a seat, kicking your feet up and sighing contentedly.

"you know...i can still give you one." you felt her hand on your leg as you cracked one eye open and smiled in amusement. "and you know, when hell freezes over." you teased as she pinched your leg lightly with a hum.

packing away the gun and wrapping up her tattoo carefully the girl pulled off her gloves and dissapeared inside for a moment to put everything away. "how was work?" mapi returned, bending down to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

"good, tiring, long, very glad its the weekend." you grinned up at her, accepting her outstretched hand as she guided you up and out of your seat. "come hermosa, rest with me." your girlfriend pulled you down onto the bed with her, pulling your back into her front as she held you tightly.

the two of you spoke about your days, wrapped up together in the warm rays of the dying soon, golden hour both your favourite times of day.

your girlfriend settling a little more, the sweet words whispered in your ear and the gentle kisses placed to the back of your shoulder blades did very little to lull you to sleep, though that seemed no issue for the tattooed footballer behind you.

glancing over your shoulder you smiled seeing she was asleep, chest rising and falling as you carefully wiggled out of her hold and placed a kiss to her forehead. your combined body heats a little much you shuffled to lay beside her, mapi stirring and rolling onto her stomach but otherwise remaining out cold.

cheekily answering a few work emails you found yourself doom scrolling social medias, one video in particular peaking your interest. pocketing your phone you quietly made your way out of the bedroom, hunting around the house for what you were after.

returning to the bedroom your girlfriend grunted tiredly as you sat on the back of her legs. "qué?" the defender mumbled. "can i color in your tattos mi amor?" you asked, bending down so your head laid next to hers.

"why?" her body vibrated with a small chuckle as she blinked sleepily. "why not?" you questioned back as the older girl hummed, nodding and shutting her eyes again as you kissed her cheek.

her body tensed a little as you pushed her shirt up, finger tracing the multitude of designs inked along the soft tanned skin. assisted by the pencil case you kept handy for when your niece visited you grabbed out a handful of markers and shifted a little so you were comfortable.

your girlfriend relaxed and drifted back to sleep, finding the gentle scratchings of the markers against her back oddly soothing as you frowned in concentration. finishing the lion in the middle of her back you moved onto the smaller more intricate designs on her shoulder blades, taking your time to ensure you kept it neat.

you felt a little childish at how much you were enjoying this, admittedly only coloring when your niece was over and that was only ever to placate her after a tantrum. but you couldn't deny that this was helping the melt away the stress which lingered within your body from a long week of meetings and deadlines and overdue reports.

unknown to you your girlfriend was now awake, laying down quietly and making sure not to move too much, glancing up with a soft smile seeing the way your tongue poked out of the corner of your mouth in concentration.

"bon dia hermosa." you caught her eye giving her a smile of your own, capping your marker and tucking it back away. "i think it is a little late for a bon dia princesa." the defender grinned, grabbing your hands and gently tugging you back down onto the bed beside her.

"did you have a nice time coloring?" she mocked playfully, kissing your nose as you rolled your eyes. "you're like a human coloring book amor, can you blame me?" you leaned in to give her a proper kiss, a lazy makeout session quick to follow.

you sighed happily at the way her hands rested on the small of your back pulling your body closer into hers, angling your head a little more to the side as your tongues clashed and you tangled your hands in her hair.

your eyes fluttered closed as her lips detached from yours and found their home on your neck, the defender moving to grab your hips as she sucked a bright red mark just below your jaw. pulling away she peppered gentle kisses across it to soothe the sting and her teeth tugged playfully at your ear lobe.

"you know mi amor if you let me give you a tattoo you could become your own colouring book."

#mapi leon x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #mapi leon #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso

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kanmom51 · 4 months ago

Text

JM Muse Serenade concept photos

Once again, I'm going to jot down a few thoughts that came to mind waking up to JM's concept photos and teaser clip that dropped today.

These are initial thoughts, and if I change my mind or have anything to add, then I will either reblog or add in a separate post, as I usually did. But I felt the need to put these thoughts down in writing and share them with you as is, like a conversation we are having together.

Yesterday we got this teaser.

And today we got the whole shebang.

I can't get a clear photo of the brooch he's wearing, but we all know that it has to have a meaning too.

Also, trying to figure out the meaning behind the three different outfits for the different images.

On the little stage holding the guitar by his side, he's wearing a tailored suit. While in the other photos he's wearing 2 different types of uniforms.

JM up on a stage, the flower all around him. Is he telling us he is going to be sharing a secret?

Or is that him surrounded by the flowers in the sense that he is on this island, wearing what looks like a kind of regular basic suit, isolated, unable to share his secret.

But when looking at the suit you see it's striped,

kind of similar to this one:

The Smeraldo flower is a clear motif throughout the whole album.

We have spoken about it. The meaning of the flower, the garden, The truth untold.

Perhaps the transition into the uniform, now holding the flowers (are those Smeraldo flowers though? Cause they look like a type of a lily), and then the open jacket with the band instruments waiting behind him - him opening up, prepared to share his secret...

But this photo here.

Is the one that I noticed especially, rang a few bells for me.

This is what I saw straight away:

You remember, right?

When JK was asked what part of JMs body is his fave and our man answered all of JM.

And this also did something for me:

This is what I felt seeing that large shadow, one we also see in the concept clip:

JMs words in Letter.

That intimate love song that was not written for us.

Written by JM.

Sung by JM.

The guitars. Letter being an acoustic guitar, quieter, more intimate. While here we have an electric guitar, louder, stronger sounding, for all to hear...

And all of this is for his Serenade concept.

Oh, and we have this too:

Let's look for one sec what actually is a serenade, why don't we?

So we have a song, often in the evening, and mainly outdoors, in public, for all those around to hear your statement of love to the person you are serenading.

Was Letter a serenade?

we talked about it being a song addressed to JK, all while being for army to hear.

So, in a sense this is a serenade.

But then perhaps not just yet, seeing Letter was a hidden track, one to be heard only by those he feels he can trust with his secret.

So not out in the open enough, not public. Not just yet.

Then we have the teaser clip for Muse - taking that Letter out of the closed locker -

Is that JM telling us that this time it's going to be a full on serenade, one for all of us to hear?

Was SGMB that serenade?

It is out in the open with an orchestra, we do have the golden hour effect, so tick to the evening element.

Could this be the serenade to follow Letter? Letter being the more intimate one on one (we did have that whole JM-JK back and forth going on there at the end), and SGMB being that song JM is singing under JK's balcony (we do have him singing to the sunflowers) for all to hear about his love for him?

Or are we getting another Serenade to come? Cause this one felt like it just might be IT.

Oh, and then we have this:

Again, we get the greater/bigger shadow. The lighting...

Golden. Golden hour. JK Golden.

And then we also have this.

One has what seems like the moon to his back.

The other is bathing in lights that light up just for him, feeling like he's bathing in the setting sun.

Yes, I went there.

And if I'm already going there, then why not this?

I think I'll wrap it up here.

Basically this was a rambling of my initial thoughts.

Feel free to comment, add some of yours, start a conversation.

Love y'all.

💜💜

Oh, and go stream SGMB !!!!

#Jimin #JM #PJM2 #JM Muse #JM Muse Serenade #Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jungkook #JK

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towriteloveontheirarms · 8 months ago

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My little winter rose (Aemond Targaryen x Little red riding hood!Reader)

synopsis: On your way to visit your grandmother, you meet a handsome stranger that points you towards some lovely flowers. Little do you know what else that aquaintance holds in store for you...

warnings: slight dubcon, p in v sex, mention of severed body parts, afab reader

word count: 2.3k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Thank you to the wonderful @slytherincursebreaker for requesting this piece. I hope you like it as much as I loved writing it!<3

Dividers by @valeskafics

For as long as you were old enough to roam around Winterfell and the surrounding woods, you heard the same thing every time. "Beware of the one-eyed beast in the woods" or some form of that sentence. You knew it by heart, saying it along every time it was spoken. Yet you had never seen a beast, no matter how often you wandered through the trees you called your second home. However, it also led to you becoming less watchful every time, thus not noticing how the so proclaimed one eyed beast very much saw you. Grew taller as you did with age until he towered over you easily, his mind darkening with thoughts as yours brightened with entirely different ideas. Going unnoticed day after day after day. Another institution set in place that you remember ever since you could think was a group of hunters going out every night. Their torches burning like the fear in their hearts, sharp swords, spears and weapons of any kind held close to their bodies that would always return marred. Sometimes you would hear rumours that people that died at an earlier date were taken by the beast while hunting for it alone.

You understood all of it, though that didn't mean you liked it. The sight of the hunters was one you hated. It was a surprise that with their viciousness the "beast didn't las out more or come closer to the village. Not even all the understanding of the human mind in the world could have saved you from hating the head of the hunters with a passion that burned even brighter than any fire ever could. Howland Reed and his relentless pursuit of trying to win over your affection by bragging about hunts long over and how well equipped he was to hunt the one-eyed.

"Red! Where are you off to?" He yells from a distance to stop you, as he trots over to you. Cursing him out in your mind in return, you oblige and wait for him to catch up with you, putting a smile on your face as you did so. Even the nickname everyone called you due to the red cloak you wore at every given time, sounded so gross from his lips you wanted to puke. "Oh, I am merely off for a visit to my grandmother." You chirp in the politest tone you could muster.

“Well, how lucky I must be to catch you then? You see, I just had some modifications done to keep you safe better.” He presents you with one of his hands and you see exactly what modifications he talked about. His nails had been filed into sharp points and seemingly coated with silver to harden them, just like claws. The pride in his face makes it hard for the polit mask to stay on yours.

“Say, Howland.” You take a deep breath in to keep it together as you speak. “I have been wondering something lately. Mayhaps you will be able to answer the question.”

“Ask me anything you wish and rest assured that the smartest man around will surely give you an answer.” He makes it so hard not to throw up right then and there.

“You are too kind. Now my question is, if you are as smart and strong and skilled in hunting as you proclaim… How come that one-eyed beast has not been slain yet?” You don´t stay to hear his answer, instead you hide a giggle behind your hand and go off on your merry way.

With the light of the early afternoon sun in the sky you have little concerns or cares about the safety of the forest. Humming the sweet tune of a song that you had often sung with your grandmother when you were younger, you skip along the way.

The deeper you get into the wood, the colder it gets and so, while you wrap yourself tighter into the red cloak, you almost run into what you at first think is a tree. As it turns out it is another human, a man and a tall one at that. His silver hair reaches down to the middle of his back, covering one of his eyes and the other you are sure shone in a pretty lavender hue once. If it did it had since dulled to a darker tone. The creases in the pale skin on his face speak volumes on how hard his life must have been. Yet when he looks down to meet your eyes, there is a charming smile set in place.

“My apologies, ser. I should have watched my steps.” You apologize before he even opens his mouth, looking up at him with the most innocent eyes he had ever seen.

“Oh no, by all means, I am the one that has to apologise. You are not the only one that should have watched where they were going.” The beautiful stranger replies in a velvety smooth voice.

"Please, I insist. If I would have stopped for a moment, I would not have run into you." You reiterate. "Alright." The stranger lifts his hands in mock surrender. "May I ask where a young maiden like you is headed? All alone in these big woods." "Well, for one I am not alone. Clearly." You go to answer with a waggish smile. His grin widens in response and his voice deepens for a moment as he speaks. "I would not be so sure that is such a good thing." His words hold a sense of warning that you swiftly ignore to tell him where you were going. "I am on my way to see my dear grandmother. She lives not far from here."

"My, what a sweet girl you are. Your grandmother can count herself lucky to have you." You hadn't even noticed so far, but when he continued speaking his voice registers almost right beside your ear. "If you want to bring her some flowers, the winter roses are blooming beautifully not too far from here in that direction."

You follow his finger with your eyes, to see that it isn't that much of a detour.

"I will be going right away. Thank you, kind stranger." You turn your head back to him.

"Oh no, I have to thank you." He murmurs. “And you may call me Aemond.”

“Aemond…” you test the way the blonds name rolls off your tongue and then let your smile widen as you give him your name.

You happily skip along the way, giving him no chance for further conversations as you only turn once more to wave him farewell.

While you busy yourself with making the most beautiful bouquet of winter roses and greenery, Aemond goes off with a new plan in mind to finally get you.

The task takes you longer than you would have thought and so the sun stands high in the sky when you continue the way to your grandmother's house. It begins to grow dark when you arrive at the small house in the middle of the woods, so it is no wonder you find your grandmother asleep in her bed.

Gently you shake her awake by the arm. “Grandmother, are you well? I came to visit you." "My sweet girl, is it really you?" The old woman's voice sounds different than normal, though you can't quite put your fingers on the exact way it does. "It is. I brought you some flowers and a cake I baked." You set down the flowers in a vase on the bed side table and sit on the edge of the mattress beside her. "Oh, you are so good to me. Come, lay down. You came all this way and I could not possibly send you home in the darkness." Without any questions you obey her, pulling off the cape and dress until you are only left in your small clothes. Through the thin fabric the cold air makes your nipples harden and so you hurry to climb underneath the blanket.

Once in bed, you notice the long scar over the left side of her face, with the eye seemingly missing entirely. “Grandmother, what happened to your eye?” The words come out dripping with uncertainty.

“Bad men took it, but you need not worry about it. They are not able to hurt anyone anymore now.” The answer does little to quell the questions on your mind.

"My, what big hands you have, Grandmother?" You continue questioning.

"All the better to hug you." Comes the quick explanation.

"And what sharp teeth you have..." Your skin begins to prickle and the air becomes harder to breathe. Something in the way your grandmother pauses before answering, makes the hair on your neck stand up. Too late to react, as you get pinned to the mattress with surprising strength.

"All the better to eat you!" With a swoosh the blanket and who you thought was your grandmother's clothes get ripped away, to reveal Aemond sitting on top of you.

He grabs your shift and easily rips the fabric off your body, leaving you gasping, wide eyed and unable to cover yourself as he still pins your wrists above your head with one if his large, strong hands.

The cold air, that streams in through the cracks in the window frame, has your nipples harden even further, until they stand painfully against the heat of your admirers’ chest. Instinctively you lean further into him to catch more of his warmth. Aemonds hard cock presses between your folds, twitching against your entrance, to collect some of the juices that flowed between your thighs.

“Will you be a good girl if I let you go now?” He growls lowly into your ear, eliciting a quiet but eager nod from you.

Slowly the pressure around your wrists vanishes to come down to hold you by the hips. Aemond leans down to capture your lips with his. The slow, but nonetheless passionate nipping at each other’s mouths gives the perfect way for him to express every last bit of longing and yearning that had coursed through the blond’s body ever since he first laid his eye on you. The kiss deflects your attention from the way Aemond rubs his erection against your dripping centre until he has buried himself entirely in it. His tip nearly kisses your cervix and the way your cunt adjusts to his form makes your entire nervous system burst into flames. The flames lick only higher as Aemond absolutely ravages you, rutting into you with inhumane pace and without abandon. It seems he fucks deeper into your tight channel with every thrust, that is accompanied by breathily whispered praise of how long he had waited for this moment and how well you took him. Every once in a while, when a pained whimper leaves your lungs, he kisses your forehead, rubs a few circles with his thumbs into your hipbone and shushes you in the most loving tone anyone had ever used on you beside your family. Yet Aemond doesn´t slow down. Not until you are first to reach your peak and he had made sure to shoot his seed so deep into your core it was sure to take.

Aemond slides out of your sensitive cunt and sits back to catch his breath.

“Are you alright?” he inquires short of breath.

“I am. Perhaps I will be a bit sore for the next few days.” You jested back with a raw voice.

“Ah, my apologies. I simply found myself unable to hold back any longer. I have been watching you for so long, my little winter rose. Imagining how it would be to touch you, to claim you, to finally take you as my wife in the face of the seven…” The one-eyed man sheepishly rubs his neck as he confesses to his desires.

Desires that make your face feel like it is on fire once more and your brain is entirely empty. “Is that the truth?”

“I could never lie to you about the graveness of my affections towards you.” Gently, Aemond takes one of your hands into his and presses a kiss to the palm of it.

“Oh, Aemond…” You melt at the show of affection. “I wished nothing more than to be able to be with you for the rest of our days, but I fear it is not possible. For my parents have already promised me to another.”

“Worry not. I have already taken care of that.” The blond stands up to offer his solution to the issue. A severed hand lands between your legs on the bed.

You gasp and raise your eyebrows, but before any question can claw its way out of your lungs, the sharpened silver nails catch your attention. It was Howlands hand that lay there presented to you as if it was a trophy. However, it does not disturb you. On the contrary, it makes you feel strangely appreciated, that someone would go so far as to secure you being with them.

“How dare that son of a whore go after my wife.” Aemond growls and his forehead lays into deep creases.

Careful not to kick around the severed body part, you stand up as well now, stalking over to Aemond on mildly trembling legs. When you reach him one hand goes to his shoulder for stability and the other rises to his face to run the thumb over the space between his eyebrows until it is even again.

“There is no reason to get angry about him anymore. My heart never belonged to him, but it will forever belong to you.” The two of you share one more kiss. This one much more slow, but just as emotional, to seal your future together.

#aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #hotd x reader #hotd x you #fairytale au #little red riding hood au

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throwaway-yandere · 1 year ago

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And The Sun Is Silent (Yandere!Wriothesley/Reader)

Unreliable Synopsis: You, a former writer, received a fan letter. Truly a curious thing, for the contents appear more personal than what it should be.

A/n: I am not back. I posted this cuz first off, I adore Joe Zieja and all his works and I was so hyped when I saw he voiced Wriothesley and second, mfer gave me C4 qiqi. i love my daughter but cmon wrio, I literally got the same haircut as you do now-

CW: nothing really. Just a lil mind frick ig

“When I saw his hands wrapped around his dearest new spouse, cutting that vile wedding cake together, I wanted nothing more than to take that knife and slit his throat.”

(Y/n) was a serialized author in Fontaine whose works were primarily geared towards detective novels. However, their words were less laced with objectivity and “irrefutable facts” as the heavy pockets do when spinning their tales. Unfortunately, they weren’t meant to fill their coffers with hit-release masterpieces. (Y/n)– pen name “Maestro Justiniano” – was more engrossed in the perpetrators' psychology like the barkeeps and magicians do. They were the main characters– the sung hero of the tale. The glorified violence thrived in each passing page for the only mystery to be solved was “who will they target next?”

If young fans of other authors were seen as aspiring detectives or law enforcers, those who were known as fans of the Maestro were unjustifiably labeled as “future degenerates.” For (Y/n), it was funny. Overhearing grandparents waste their already fleeting energy to scold their grandchild’s love for their sinful work was their source of joy.

But (Y/n) (L/n) was not Maestro Justiano in public.

They were Duke Wriothesley’s spouse. Maestro Justiano is but a shade and (Y/n) is a human. The maestro does not feed on earth nor mora, but (Y/n) is obliged to. He bought his title, and he bought his spouse.

Gone was their free fourth finger. With a golden shackle, they sealed their fate to a wealthy man for table scraps. Perhaps it is fortunate that he is generous with his pockets, but to (Y/n), they would rather starve themselves writing than sit through another seminar about the nation’s ever-changing laws.

The Maestro’s life used to be so full of thrill; the “pelf” they received for each writing commission was a life worth their breaths.

The Maestro’s life used to be coated in moonlight; sneaking out and running gigs was their bread and butter.

But now the sun is silent, and (Y/n) stands with a tail behind their legs.

“(Y/n), do you need anything?”

Wriothesley asked even when he could guess the answer. Lazily, (Y/n) shifted from the covers, peering over with half-closed eyes.

“Nothing, Your Grace.” (Y/n) yawned. “Close the door.”

The Duke nods, understanding their fatigue. He silently shuts the door, and nothing of interest is to be noted afterward.

This has been their canned script every Wednesday to Friday without fail for the past 3 years.

In (Y/n)’s eyes, Wriothesley is a mere animal with whom they mate for survival. Barely any true emotional trysts occurred in their first two years of marriage. They’re a “friend” of fortune. With him always away from home, (Y/n) is left with nothing but their thoughts.

The nights were warm, but the mornings were cold.

And the sun is silent.

Their husband has never been quite the same after an incident during their 2nd year of marriage.

On the night they were attacked in the comfort of their shared home, a gear in his head was stolen.

Wriothesley held them, audibly more alarmed and broken than (Y/n)– the victim– was. He shook, afraid of what you must’ve gone through in his absence. Robbery, that’s what the records say. An armed man entered their home with the intent to steal. Black were his gloves and hair. The perpetrator thought they had been away on a business trip and pulled the trigger by surprise when they emerged from the kitchen.

That thief had failed to steal material possessions, but their husband had lost his good of intellect. He cannot stand the notion of leaving them alone. What is a collector’s item if it’s not in great condition? Wriothesley has locked the gates and kept (Y/n) in, and he’ll continue to do so to preserve their value.

“I want to meet you somewhere someday, in a place where the sun is no longer silent. I want to crawl and bury myself under your skin where I can read through your mind. The house is too quiet. I want to trace your collarbones. I want to bite into your flesh, and I need you to look into my eyes as I tear myself apart. I am in love with you, (Y/n). It’s unbelievable, but it’s true. I live within these walls. I am what keeps you grounded with a golden ring. But why does the sun hide from me?”

Despite how much closer the couple are now, (Y/n) feels more distant than before. Not that they had the right to say "The duke was not the man I married" when they rarely talked— but it surely felt that way.

And in one Sunday night, the forcibly retired author used their words not to immerse readers, but to intimidate guards to grant entry to their "beloved" husband's office.

"You fucking bitch…"

"Lovely to see you too, honey."

"You made me lose my job!!!"

"Here I thought you refer to it as a side-line."

"Are you fucking for real right now?!" They screamed and slammed a fist down on the table. The pain hasn't hit them yet as their unbridled shock and rage hit overdrive. "Since when did you have the right to just take my–"

"Your hobbies away?" Wriothesley placed down his chamomile tea and shrugged. "Honey, I'm not doing anything like that. No, I'm only protecting you."

"Oh, great!" They waved a hand around dramatically before slapping it back to their thigh, rolling their eyes. "Let me guess, there's a biiiig explanation that fits into one giant puzzle."

"You know me too well for someone who never initiates conversation." He smiled mockingly.

"You're right. Court Dense Publishing House is being investigated for numerous allegations. Toxic working environment, which included stalking and superiors leveraging pay for sexual favors might I add, and tax fraud. The details of the latter will bore you." Wriothesley continued.

He sighed. "Can't you tell? I'm just being a decent husband. What if you were being harassed and you were afraid to tell me?"

"Like hell, I was–" They took a sharp deep breath in. "Listen. Let me get back to my work and we won't have any problems, Your Grace."

"No can do. You're an ex-Maestro now."

“And you're an ex-con.” They quickly retorted.

…

“... You're calling me an ex-con?" Wriothesley laughed dryly. The lone sound made them inch their heels slightly backward.

His eyelids lowered as his dull gray eyes peeked behind underneath his tilted glare.

They had never seen him this serious.

"Who do you think turned me into one?”

…

They blinked.

His words– though not making sense without context– carried a heavy weight they had unfortunately missed.

His gaze and words were accusingly pointed.

At them.

…

Wriothesley laughed.

"I'm kidding, of course. Don't be so tense."

(Y/n) didn't laugh.

He smiled. They can't tell if it was fake or not. He's been too good at pretending to be nice that they never knew when he genuinely dropped the act.

Like Maestro Justiniano, that argument is history now.

And maybe that's why (Y/n) first thought it would be a comforting experience to read a story written by an avid fan.

It was a long manuscript. Sigewinne claimed it came from a fellow Melusine who wanted her favorite author's thoughts on how to write a criminal male lead. When asked for the writer's name, she refused to say it. (Y/n) respected it since they too posted anonymously…

But this reading sounds less like a professional job and more like a stalker's confession…

“When I first finished a book of yours in two sittings, I had formed a vague fantasy on how you looked like. You were a tall man, thin, long-necked, sharp-nosed, with a body slightly bent forward. Needless to say, I was stoked to find that description failed to perfectly describe who you were in person. I hope that with my new appearance, my description perfectly describes how your husband used to look as well. These black gloves just don’t fit me right.”

These black gloves…?

"Honey, I'm home!!! Oh, and Sigewinne's here too."

As soon as they heard the door open, (Y/n) shoved the fan's manuscript inside their drawer. Wriothesley hates seeing any semblance of creative writing inside the house.

"Can you brew two cups of tea for us?" Wriothesley asked as he removed his jacket, placing it recklessly on the sofa. "We're exhausted."

(Y/n) nodded. They never tell him how they make his tea. For a bottle weighing 8 fl oz, they'd take a rounded scoop of sunsettia powder to the pitcher and pour steamed 2% milk to whatever was the appropriate line. Once aerated for 3 seconds, they fill it with their macha mix with ¼’’ foam and ¾’’ more below the rim for the aesthetic.

The process is not as difficult as it sounds, but they like withholding information. Why else won't friends and family know that they're a prolific writer, right?

"Sure. I'll be right back."

They left.

Their “husband” picked up the letter they hastily hid, a faint smile playing on his face.

Were you frightened after reading it?

How did his favorite author react?

He wished he knew. But he’s no detective– he’s a present “degenerate”. He won’t find clues just by looking at the parchment. "Wriothesley" placed it back to where it was earlier and adjusted his black gloves to fit just right.

“Wriothesley” glanced at Sigewinne with a giddy smile.

“So, do you think they liked my writing?”

"(P.S: I finally figured out how you make your coffee. It's 3 pumps of Fonta, 1 shot of espresso roast, chilled milk, and stirred with ice. This unique combination would've perplexed me if I didn't find out you made it out of spite.

But it does taste good. I promise. After all, in the cold solitude of your sunless prison, I'll be the one brewing you coffee. May each sip be a reminder of my affection. The sun may be silent too in the Fortress, but maybe in there, you'll finally appreciate my warmth.")

#ansy-writes #tw: yandere #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere male #yandere wriothesley #yandere wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #genshin #yandere wriothesley x you #wriothesley x you #sigewinnie

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ginxyy · 8 days ago

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Forever

As you comb through the dust-laden boxes in your parents’ attic, sunshine filters through the little window, casting a warm, amber glow on your childhood memories. Lost in nostalgia, you laugh softly at the remnants of your past: a crooked photograph of your high school friends, long-forgotten journals, and, just as your finger grazes over a worn-out stuffed animal, you feel something hard beneath the frayed fabric. You pull out a cassette tape its label faded with time, but unmistakably smudged into the outline of a heart.

Your breath catches in your throat. It’s the mix tape he made for you, Seungcheol. The very one he painstakingly curated with songs that echoed your laughter and whispered secrets in hallways filled with daydreams. Your heart flutters at the thought of his boyish smile, those quiet glances you exchanged during English class, and the way his fingers brushed against yours as he moved your hair behind your ear. Seungcheol, your high school boyfriend, who somehow faded into the backdrop of your life when his dreams took him far from your small town to international stardom. You couldn’t help but remember how he used to tease you for being a romantic, for believing in love songs sung under starlit skies.

Curiosity pulls at you like a gentle tide as you head to your old cassette player, eagerly dusting it off and sliding the tape inside. Moments later, the soft crackle of grainy sound fills the air, followed by the melodious strum of a guitar, unleashing a flood of feelings that you thought you had long buried. Each song reverberates through your heart, reminding you of the laughter, the late-night talks, and the dreams you shared under the shimmering moonlight.

As the notes wrap around you like a tender embrace, your phone buzzes unexpectedly, pulling you back into reality. A mix of surprise and joy washes over you as you see his name flash across the screen. Seungcheol. Your heart races as you dare yourself to answer, an alluring thrill coursing through your veins.

“Hey, it’s been a while,” his voice drifts through the speaker, deep and warm, like a melody you’ve missed. There’s a hint of nervousness, a flicker of longing that echoes through the airwaves. You can almost picture his shy smile, his endearing uncertainty all at once. “I found something today and couldn’t help but think of you.”

“Me too,” you breathe, your heart leaping as if you were back in the vibrant halls of your high school, running towards his embrace after a tough day. “I found that old mix tape you made for me.”

“Oh, wow!” he chuckles, the sound vibrant and full of life. “I thought I’d never see that again. It was our little secret, wasn’t it? It had all the songs I thought you’d love.”

“Yes,” you smile, warmth blooming in your chest. The memories flood back; that afternoon in your old neighborhood when he composed the mixtape in his bedroom, flipping through your favorite songs. “They all reminded me of us like you knew me better than anyone.”

“I missed those days,” he replies, his voice softening, a tender sincerity woven through his words. “I missed you.” An ache surges through you with those three simple words, stirring emotions you thought were safely locked away.

With his confession lingering in the air, the conversation flows like a gentle stream, laughter spilling over as you reminisce about the small-town adventures, the silly quirks you both shared, and the dreams that once felt so vivid. The world outside fades away, leaving only the essence of innocence, the fragrance of a blossoming love that never truly faded.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a dusky hue over the evening sky, your laughter dances through the air, bringing you both closer as the shared memories intertwine like threads of fate. Between moments of silence, there's a quiet intensity that wraps around both your hearts, unspoken but undeniably present.

“Can we at least... meet again?” you ask cautiously, a blend of hope and trepidation weaving through your words. “Just to see each other?”

“I’d love that,” he replies, the joy unmistakable, an undercurrent of desire threading through his voice. “How about this weekend? I’ll be in town for a short break. We could grab coffee, relive our memories.”

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of actually seeing him again after all these years. A feeling, rich and intoxicating, swells within you. “It’s a date then,” you say, your voice layered with anticipation and delight.

That weekend arrives quicker than you anticipated, and as you stand before the café a quaint little spot decorated in soft fairy lights you feel a whirlwind of emotions. The butterflies in your stomach flutter with excitement and anxiety. What will he think of you? The girl from high school, now documented in the shadows of nostalgia and dreams.

When he walks in, the world narrows to just the sight of him. Seungcheol looks different, yet undeniably the same. The years haven’t dulled his charm; if anything, they’ve molded him into an even more captivating version of the boy who stole your heart. Dressed casually yet stylishly, he radiates warmth and familiarity as he spots you, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

“Hey,” he grins, stepping closer, an intricate tapestry of connection weaving itself around you both. It’s as if no time has passed; he wraps you in an embrace that feels like coming home.

“Hi,” you whisper, your cheeks flushing as you pull back, a shy smile stretching across your face.

The coffee flows, but it’s the conversation that fills your souls. Between cups of steaming latte and glances that linger just a moment longer, you share your lives what you’ve both done, the places you’ve been, the hearts you’ve touched. Yet within this joy, there’s an understanding that simmers beneath the surface, a yearning that has never truly dissipated.

As the evening light wanes, you walk out into the cool air together, the night wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. And in that moment, under a sky sprinkled with stars, Seungcheol reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The simple touch burns through you, igniting forgotten feelings of love and belonging.

“I never stopped loving you,” he breathes sincerely, his eyes locking with yours. The world around you blurs into insignificance as he pours his heart out, revealing the tender truth you both needed. “I’ve missed you every single day.”

Your breath hitches, and it feels like the universe is bending to the magic of this moment. With hearts intertwined once more, the atmosphere brimming with love, laughter, promise, and a new beginning, you know one thing with absolute certainty: life is a beautiful melody, and you, dear heart, are ready to dance to its sweetest rhythm once again, hand in hand with the boy who now stands by your side, forever rekindled.

As Seungcheol’s fingers intertwined with yours that evening under the stars, a soft sigh escaped your lips. It was as if years of longing and unresolved feelings finally found a voice, a place to settle. The warmth in his eyes mirrored your own, like two halves of a heart finally reuniting. That night, you felt the threads of fate pull you closer together, and in the days and weeks that followed, your lives began to weave into a shared story again.

The first few months were like a gentle return to a familiar song. You and Seungcheol went for long walks in the park, talking about life, dreams, and the spaces you had both filled in each other’s absence. The moments felt like rediscovering an old photograph, every detail both familiar and full of wonder.

Seungcheol would surprise you with notes slipped into your bag, little reminders of the days he used to leave tiny love letters in your locker. Each note carried words he had once been too shy to say, but now, as he read them aloud to you over dinner, you felt that same thrill, that same exhilaration, as if you were both still teenagers falling in love for the first time.

“You know,” he said one evening, his hand wrapped gently around yours, “I spent so many years thinking of you. Every time I wrote a new song, I’d wonder if you would have liked it.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Well, maybe you’ll have to play some of those for me.”

And he did. Some nights, he’d take out his guitar and play softly for you, his voice filling the room with melodies only you two understood. Sometimes, he’d hum a song he had never quite finished, the lyrics simple yet profoundly intimate, a reminder of all the moments you’d missed, now brought back to life.

Months passed, and slowly, your lives entwined. He began to leave a toothbrush at your place, then a sweatshirt or two that you found yourself wearing whenever he wasn’t around. Before long, you found yourselves cooking dinners together, whispering in the soft glow of candlelight, savoring the beauty of each moment as though it were a page from a book you’d both forgotten to read.

Seungcheol was patient, attentive, and, most of all, devoted. And one evening, as he held your hand and gazed at you with that familiar tenderness, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a delicate, sparkling ring.

“I’ve carried this in my heart for years,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “But today, I’m asking you: will you make this forever?”

With tears in your eyes and your heart soaring, you whispered, “Yes.” And just like that, in a soft moment under the stars, you both promised to continue this love story this time, without any endings.

The first year of marriage felt like an endless honeymoon, filled with discovery, learning, and quiet moments shared over cups of coffee on rainy mornings. Your lives were a perfect blend of romance and friendship, comfort and passion. You’d wake up to see Seungcheol working on lyrics, his eyes lighting up whenever you wandered over to hear what he was working on.

Together, you learned to navigate the ups and downs, finding joy in the everyday, the beautiful monotony of being together. There were days when you’d collapse into laughter over a silly disagreement about whose turn it was to do the dishes, or when he’d come home with a bouquet of wildflowers, just because.

Seungcheol’s career took him to amazing places, and you traveled alongside him, building memories that felt like dreams waking up to misty sunrises in foreign cities, cheering him on as he performed for crowds that adored him as much as you did. Yet every evening, when the stage lights dimmed, he’d return to you, his head resting on your shoulder, finding home in your presence.

When the day came that you held a tiny, positive pregnancy test in your hand, your heart leapt. You could hardly wait to tell him. That evening, you surprised him with a small, heart-shaped box. Inside was a tiny pair of baby booties.

The look on his face was pure joy an indescribable mix of shock, love, and wonder. He lifted you into his arms, laughing and crying, holding you close as you both shared the beauty of what was to come.

The months that followed were a blur of anticipation. Seungcheol sang to your growing belly, his voice gentle and filled with awe as he crafted lullabies just for your little one. He’d read baby books and carefully paint the nursery, insisting on creating the perfect world for the life you were bringing into it.

When your daughter finally arrived, the world shifted for both of you. She was tiny, with Seungcheol’s big eyes and your dimpled smile, and from the moment she was placed in your arms, you both knew that life had reached a kind of magic neither of you had ever imagined.

As years passed, your family grew. Two little voices filled the house with laughter and giggles, their footsteps pattering through hallways echoing with memories of your own childhood. Seungcheol transformed into a proud, gentle father, spending hours teaching your children to sing, to dream, and to find joy in the little things.

Life settled into a beautiful rhythm, a melody of love that grew stronger with time. There were small, everyday joys making pancakes on Sunday mornings, cheering on your kids at their school recitals, quiet evenings where you’d look back on your journey together, marveling at the serendipity of it all.

Every anniversary, Seungcheol would surprise you with a new song, a tribute to your life together, each note a reminder of the journey you had taken from high school hallways to where you stood now, surrounded by love.

Years later, as you sit together on your front porch, watching your children chase fireflies, you feel the gentle touch of his hand on yours. The years have only deepened your love, filling it with layers of shared dreams, memories, and a sense of completeness.

“You know,” Seungcheol says, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “if I could go back to that day in English class, I’d do it all over again just to be with you.”

And as you lean into him, your heart beating in perfect harmony with his, you realize that life truly is a melody a beautiful, unending song that began with a mixtape, a little faded heart, and a love that never really left.

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dixons-sunshine · 2 months ago

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Ticklish | Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

The sun had just began its slow descent down between the mountains. Outside, the songs the birds so merrily sung each day began being replaced by the sounds of crickets and owls hooting in the distance. The usually bustling streets of your neighbourhood were surprisingly quieter than most days, and it appeared to be the perfect night to stay in and watch a movie with your boyfriend.

However, Joshua Frohmeyer could be an unpredictable man, and somehow you ended up on your back on his mattress, his body hovering over yours. But instead of doing far more pleasurable activities in that position, your boyfriend had other plans.

“Josh!” your voice rung out through the air, the sound being punctuated with the shrieks of laughter that you emitted. “Please!”

Scud’s own chuckles filled the air of your room. However, the man did not cease his attacks. His hands continued their relentless onslaught, his fingers working at your sides, which just so happened to be one of the spots you were most ticklish. Your sides were being playfully tormented by your boyfriend’s work-worn hands, and there appeared to be no escape from his attacks.

You squirmed around to attempt to flee from him, but Scud held you firmly in place. Tears were beginning to form in your eyes from the continuous laughter, and you were happy that the day walker wasn’t in that night, because you were sure he would have barged in to complain about the noise.

“Baby, please!” you pleaded with Scud, your hands trying to push his off. However, your attempts were futile. “Josh!”

Your next move was entirely unintentional. You were only trying to adjust your leg. You hadn’t intended for your knee to bend, and you certainly did not intend for your knee to make contact with Scud’s crotch.

Scud’s attacks finally let up, but not in the way you had wanted. He groaned in pain and rolled off of you onto his back, his eyes screwed shut. “Jesus Christ,” he groaned painfully.

Your eyes widened in horror as you realized what you had done. You scrambled into a seated position, your eyes trailing over Scud as you contemplated whether or not you were allowed to touch him after that. “Oh my god,” you whispered in horror, remorse evident on your face. “Josh, I am so fucking sorry! I didn’t mean to do that. I am so sorry, Baby.”

“Pretty sure you didn’t have to resort to violence, Babe,” Scud told you, his face still scrunched up in pain. He opened one of his eyes to peer at you. “Fuck. That really hurt.”

“I’m so sorry, Josh,” you frantically apologized. “I really didn’t mean—”

“Ain’t gonna be able to have kids after this. You kneed me really hard,” Scud interrupted you, a faint, teasing smirk on his face.

You noticed the playful look in his eyes, and realization dawned on you. “You’re taking the piss out of me, aren’t you?” you questioned. You got your answer in the form of Scud’s laugh. You playfully hit him on his arm. “You jerk! Did I even really hurt you?”

“Nah. You kneed my thigh,” Scud admitted with a hearty laugh. “But I couldn’t help myself. I had to.”

You let out a small scoff, but a smile still graced your features. “You’re a dick, you know that?”

“Yeah, and yet ya love me.”

“I do,” you agreed, shaking your head. “Against my better judgement, but I do.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#scud fanfiction #scud blade 2 #scud x reader #scud frohmeyer #scud #scud x female reader #joshua frohmeyer x reader #josh frohmeyer x reader #joshua fromeyer #joshua frohmeyer #josh frohmeyer #joshua frohmeyer x female reader #scud frohmeyer x reader

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laurasimonsdaughter · 2 months ago

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I’m still thinking about riddles and riddle contests in folklore and I think that’s all down to the story of the Night Troll.

The Night Troll is an Icelandic folktale collected by Jón Árnason and tells of a young maid staying behind at the farm on Christmas Eve, even though most people who have done so before have ended up dead or driven mad. A troll attempts to gain entrance, but she keeps him at the window until the sun comes up and turns him to stone.

In the version I first encountered of this story, an English translation in The Enchanted World Series, the girl and the troll exchange riddles. One of which is the “thirty white horses on a red hill” riddle that Tolkien uses in The Hobbit. But in the version collected by Árnason there are no riddles. Instead the exchange is a rhyming back and forth, which reads like it ought to be sung:

The troll starts: “What a pretty hand you have, my quick one, my keen one, and diddly-doe.” The maid answers: “It has never raked the muck, my prowler, my Kári, and corry-roe.”

She continues to give a quick reply to every compliment, claiming her virtue every time. Until the final exchange:

“Day is dawning in the east, my quick one, my keen one, and diddly-doe.” “Stay and turn to stone, but be of harm to no one, my prowler, my Kári, and corry-roe.”

Of course this is a translation (by May and Hallberg Hallmundsson) and there are no notes provided on the significance of the rhyme, but this exchange is clearly about wit and quickness and – I extrapolate – the power of using the right kind of words in the right kind of rhythm.

It reminds me less of a riddle contest and more of the Welsh custom of the Mari Lwyd coming to your door at Christmas and singing the pwnco to deny access to the house. Here too the point is to answer quickly and cleverly (or amusingly), strictly following the tune and composition of a specific song (Cân y Fari). Although the festive Mari Lwyd does not need to be turned to stone, she and her cohorts can be plied with food and drink after they are let inside.

I love a good riddle contest, but I love the implication that some beings are just inherently bound by the power of words and song even more.

#icelandic folklore #welsh folklore #the night troll #mari lwyd #laura babbles

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artistsfuneral · 1 year ago

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Jaskier meets Death at a forked path. He has never seen them in person before, their face - although incredible kind looking - is not one he's familiar with and yet he instinctively knows who is in front of him.

It's quite the idyllic picture to be honest. The path Jaskier has been following for the past few hours is lined with rough stone walls, the ones that are keeping flocks of sheep from straying too far. The sun is out and shining through the tree's leaves, creating a kaleidoscope of dancing shadows on the fresh grass. Death sits under one such dancing shadow-patch, surrounded by napping sheep. Their left hand is idly petting the spotted fur of a guardian dog, with their right, they're waving Jaskier over to join them.

He silently wonders if he should be scared. Others certainly would be terrified upon seeing Death waiting for them, but Jaskier has always been easily intrigued. Besides, Death is hardly looming over him, it's more like they're waiting for him - like one may wait for an old friend. It could be a trick of course, he muses as he walks over to where Death is sitting, then again it feels like the two of them could have met many, many times before and in much worse situations than this. So who is Jaskier to question Death?

The closer he gets the more he is able to take in. They're tall - taller than anyone he's met before, Jaskier thinks - and incredibly pretty. Not in the perfectly manicured kind of pretty, like some of the most beautiful darlings at court tend to be. No, Death carries a natural loveliness that can only be found and never created, like a special constellation of freckles, an off-center nose, or a small gap between your teeth. Death is everyone Jaskier ever sung of combined in one person, which makes him wonder if they always look like this or if they changed their appearance to please Jaskier's eyes specifically. If the latter, he'd surely feel flattered.

"Come sit with me, sweetheart," Death says and Jaskier is delighted to hear their voice. It's a very nice voice. He wants to hear Death laugh, he realizes as he sinks down next to them on the grass. Their eyes meet his and Death sends him the kindest smile, "It's been a while since I've seen you, sweetheart, I'm glad to see you happy and healthy." Jaskier grins, because what a funny thing for Death to say, but he can hear the honesty in their words. "Oh you know, just the usual aches and pains of my slowly progressing age. Nothing you haven't heard a hundred times before, I'm sure," Jaskier happily chatters back in the same familiar tone. "It's a lovely day, isn't it?" He asks and reaches for his pack. Might as well take his lunch break now, while the fruit he bought earlier this day are still fresh. Death answers his question with an agreeing hum and oh yes, Jaskier might just fall in love with them right then and there.

He focuses on his lunch and wills his foolish heart to calm. "Would you like some?" he asks Death, because his Mama raised him well and eating alone is never quite as enjoyable as sharing a meal. Death looks at him with amusement in their eyes. "I can not eat, but I appreciate the gesture."

Jaskier sighs, "What a pity."

"A small price to pay for a life like mine."

"You're alive?"

"I am here, am I not?"

He looks at Death wide eyed, a hundred thoughts stumbling through his mind at the same time. "I have so many questions."

"And I have a favor to ask of you, sweetheart," Death retords not unkindly. Throughout their short conversation the amusement never quite left their eyes and while Jaskier would normally feel patronized by such a look he somehow knows that Death is simply enjoying his company.

"Are we doing this right? Doesn't this whole asking for a favor thing usually go the other way around?" Death laughs and Jaskier's heart does a little jump, his fingers itch to write a new song. "You read too much, sweetheart."

"I don't believe there's such a thing as reading too much."

"The words of a scholar and a poet."

"At your service."

"Of course. I always get what I want," Death says knowingly, shoving yet another metaphorical box of Pontar towards Jaskier. Lucky for him he has long since learned to not think about these kind of things too much. It does feel a little bit like Death tricked him, though he loves a good repartee. "I have to admit, I am curious indeed. What could I possibly offer to you?"

Death turns their head away from him, looking at the dog in deep consideration. "I need..." Death pauses and Jaskier almost wants to think of it in a hesitant way, "to win a bet." The bard's shoulders drop immediately. "Ah," he says, because the hesitation now starts to make sense. Surely Death must know this of him. "I don't do bets, I'm afraid. It never ends well for the poets caught in between."

"I know," Death agrees easily and not very reassuringly, as a matter of fact. "But I am in need of a song. A song to bring the gods to tears and neither can I write nor sing. What I can do, is offer you my protection."

Jaskier's mind floods with thoughts.

Protection from Death.

The two of them stare into each other's eyes, the world around them timeless, everlasting. Finally, it is Jaskier who breaks the contact and returns to his bundle of food. He bites into a fruit, it's sweet juices run down his chin and drip onto his chemise. "I will make the gods weep," he declares and watches Death smile full of warmth.

#the witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier #witcher #mini fic

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fashionteahouse · 26 days ago

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hi lovely ! i absolutely love your writing ! i was wondering if you could do a paul x reader where the reader is new to la push, and moved from england. the reader goes on a walk to the beach and meets paul there and he imprints on the reader ? you could just make it a one time thing orrrr you could make it a series ? if it has potential ! i love your paul series, the out of my league one, i LOVE IT SO MUCH

heyy honey! thank you so so much, i appreciate you🥹💜 i would love to write this. i’m sure this storyline has potential ;) hope you enjoy :)

skyline to - paul x reader

Crunches of the earth was heard beneath you as you took your steps. Your eyes took in the surroundings as you finally found something to do in your new home. The environment was different. You moved to a different country. You wanted to soak in the memories here.

Thankful for La Push having a beach, the destination to get there was on your brain. The pocket sized music player was in your pocket with headphones attached to the sound. Placing the headphones on your ears, you walk along the beach that you finally wanted to reach. Not too many people were in attendance.

The song was sung in your ears. Calmness and contentment surrounds you. Soon, you hear something louder than the music that was playing, “Watch out!”

You turn and see a ball whizzing right in your direction, you try to move out the way but the ball knocks your headphones off onto the ground. It didn’t hurt physically but just in spirit. You just hoped the blow to them didn’t effect the production of sound.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” you hear a voice and you look up to see a guy with sharp, strong features, you were drowning in his eyes. It felt like he pulled you in his soul with just his eyes. Eyes were the window to the soul, yes, but it felt like everything and anything was promised. Nostalgia, but hopes for the future were mixed into what you were feeling.

“Everything alright?” a voice asks and you and the boy in front you, finally broke eye contact.

“Yeah.” the guy in front of you says and picks the headphones up that was still leaking out noise. He looks at them, extends them out to you and you take them back, “Thanks.” you say in a quiet voice.

Picking the ball up, and throwing it to the other people who were expecting him and the ball, he looks at you once more to bring his attention back to what’s in front of him.

You’re about to slide them back on your head until he asks you a question, “I didn’t break them, did I?

You reply, “No. They still work.”

He nods, taking note. Then, he furrows his eyebrows, “You’re not from here, are you?”

You shake your head, knowing your accent was a dead giveaway.

“Where?” he asks, genuinely wanting to know.

“England.” you answer back and he raises his eyebrows, impressed.

“Paul, come on!” a different voice says and you look and see that the two people that he’s with are waiting for him.

“I’ll see you around?” he asks, a tad of frustration on his face. You nod and watch him go back to his group.

While listening to music, you decided to tidy up your room, folding and putting things away. One song you picked, turned into other songs flowing through the speakers in your ears.

The lyrics were melodic and you found your mind thinking hard about what they could mean. A face smacked your thoughts and made you shake your head. You didn’t understand why you would think so deeply about the first guy who talks to you in La Push.

Your phone buzzes and you see friends from back home sending you messages.

“Is the weather nice?”

“How’s the food?”

“Send DEETS about the guys there”

You take your time and talk about how you feel at home. How you feel like your life would be different in a great way. You didn’t tell them about your encounter at the beach. You thought the feelings about the guy you were thinking about were going to fade as the cycles of day and nights continue.

The morning sun haunted you with its beams. Looking around your room, you were happy that the task at hand was finished. With the excuse being of wanting to treat yourself, you wanted to take yourself out to Port Angeles.

Window shopping and walking the streets, you smell food hit your nostrils nearby.

Walking past, looking at the skyline to the streets, you hear muffled laughs. You don’t know why, but your head snaps to the noise. You see the same guys you’ve seen at the beach, sitting at a table, poking fun about something and laughing.

The boy who helped picked your headphones up, wandered his eyes and seen you. Him slowly getting up and walking towards the door made you realize that you were watching him the entire time. You turn to walk away, feeling ashamed that you were staring at a stranger.

“Hey!” you hear and and turn around with hesitation deep in your bones.

“You could’ve said hi.” he says and walks steps towards you.

Blushing at the way that he’s looking at you, you debate but decide to lift your hand and wiggle your fingers. Your stomach flipped at the smile he gave you, causing you to feel nervousness a bit.

“What were you up to?” he asked you as he licked your image up and down with his eyes.

“Just..exploring a bit.”

“Are you hungry?” he asks and points to the restaurant that’s behind him. You take a look. It’s not something that you would want to eat. You didn’t want to be rude. You meekly shake your head.

“I can show you around if you want?” he asks.

You take a look at him. He seemed trustworthy to be around. He didn’t look like an ax murderer. To you, at least. His big body was just an outline for strength. The body walking moving closer towards you wasn’t threatening. He tilts his head down to get a better look at you.

“Um..Sure.” you say, feeling a bit small under his intense gaze. Happy with your choice of an answer, you two start a stroll.

You learn that you both love and appreciated the landscapes of the hometowns you two were from. The natural beauty bringing you two together to gush about the distinctiveness.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks you as you hold the car door.

You shrug a little, not being able to think of anything, “Nothing. Why?”

“Come out to the sea, so we can watch it together.” he tells you and makes sure you look him in the eye. Almost hypnotizing. You nod and form a small grin. He doesn’t take your eyes off of you. The only time he looked away was when he couldn’t see your car lights anymore as they disappeared down the road.

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 7 months ago

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Crown of Gold

cw. gn!reader, eremite!reader, pre-relationship, reader rizz

pairing. kaveh x reader

notes. this has been in my drafts for months. literal freaking months. this was supposed to be done and posted ages ago but apparently... this is what happens to a oneshot in the hands of a master procrastinator. this isn't anything too long but kaveh simps, come get your simp juice.

“You have a really fun toy, Mister!”

“Mehrak isn’t a toy! She’s my precious toolbox!”

There’s a mechanical beep and you hear gleeful shrieks and clapping following.

“A toy, a toy!”

When the man ー Kaveh, you remember ー groans in frustration, you aren’t able to stop your soft chuckles that are drowned out by the sounds of your younger sisters’ laughter. Let me help the guy out before he pulls his hair out.

“Uru, Jericho,” you step from behind the pillar, tugging your brocade off your face to give them a stern but playful look. The twins share a look of panic between them, Uru letting go of the strange, sentient box in her hands. “Are you bothering our guest?”

Aaru Village isn’t your home but it is a stable place to keep your sisters while you work.

You were born into the life of a mercenary, you seldom had a choice in what to become. Your mother was a mercenary and you grew up surrounded by them. Uncles and Aunties who would carve bowls and husk ajilenakh nuts with their swords. Stories being told around a fire as songs that have long since lost their names are sung. The scent of iron and dust blending into each other.

Your father passed away months after your birth and as for the twins’ dad, you doubt you would be able to pick the man out of a crowd even if held by blade point. You don’t know if he’s dead, nor do you know if the man simply abandoned his children in favor of life in the rainforest. Maybe he even had a new family.

You doubt you’ll ever receive an answer. Nor do you care if you ever receive one.

After your mother died on a job, you took your sisters and brought them to Aaru Village. Here your sisters can grow up with friends they can see everyday and neighbors with varying life expectancies.

You, on the other hand, continued your life as a hand-for-hire. Mercenary work is what took your family but it is what gave you the means to survive with the family you have left.

Uru and Jericho are your pride and joy. You want them to have the opportunities you couldn’t.

That doesn’t mean they can torment the architect whose visit to the village coincided with your own however.

“He’s the one who designed the library they’re building. He’s Kaveh!” you learned quickly from little Ayten. One might find it honorable he returns to make sure his work is being followed completely to the letter, another might find it simply as the architect doing his job.

You like to believe his reasoning is a happy medium between the two.

You give Kaveh a polite smile and he smiles back in relief. It’s practically reflex that you feel a small stutter of your heart. He is very beautiful. You have seen your fair share of beautiful people in both the desert and the rainforest.

This son of the rainforest is perhaps the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

It isn’t the first time you’ve seen the architect without your Eremite brocade inhibiting your sight. You’d seen him from a distance in the afternoon sun, discussing with Setaria and Badawi. Yet it is a different experience when he is standing right in front of you with locks of gold crowning his head and framing his ruby-red eyes.

“Go on and apologize to Mr. Kaveh and his Mehrak, okay?”

“Sorry, Mr. Kaveh,” Uru murmurs, hands behind her back.

“Sorry,” Jericho mumbles, fiddling with her dress.

Kaveh clears his throat and he sounds a bit too pleased at the apologetic words even if they are technically forced. “It’s fine, just make sure to treat Mehrak gently. She’s very important to me.” As if to agree with her master, the sentient box beeps. “Mehrak says she forgives you as well.” The twins brighten at this declaration.

“Now why don’t the two of you go and play with the children your age, hmm,” you nod in the direction of some children playing enthusiastically with their small scarab warriors.

“Sorry about my sisters,” you tell the man softly when the twins make their exit. “They think you’re fascinating.” He is fascinating. The clothes you buy are built for practicality. For the heat of the desert and for the humidity of the rainforest. Kaveh’s form of dress is undoubtedly fancier than what most desert folk don. He was swathed in the colors of Sumeru from the greens of the rainforest to the pale golds of the sands. “Most rainforest folk they see in Aaru Village are... different compared to you.”

Scholars in their Akademiya robes or those who now call the Red Sand their home. Those are the types of rainforest folk you'll typically find here.

“They aren’t too much trouble,” the architect tells you smoothly like he hadn’t been softly bullied by the two only moments prior.

“Really? They’re a pair of troublemakers to me,” you laugh, scarred hands resting on your hips. “They know they’re cute too. You’ve fallen right into their trap. They’ll be begging you to make them wreaths with your Vision if you’re not careful.”

Kaveh doesn’t look upset by your guffaws. His smile is one of exasperation and self-admitted doom. “Yep, they got me good,” he sighs good-naturedly. “I owe you a ‘thank you’. For Mehrak,” the toolbox beams in what you think is a happy tone. “And you’re the additional help Badawi mentioned, right? I appreciate you helping with keeping the trade route open to help lower loss of materials.”

“No need to thank me for that,” you shake your head. You don’t deserve them. You’re only helping since this coincided with your visit. So when Badawi asked if you could assist with keeping the costs down in the way you knew best, you easily told him he had your axe. “If it weren’t for that, I probably would be who knows where right now.”

Kaveh shakes his head at you even more firmly, “regardless of the reasoning, you’re helping out and that’s worthy of an expression of gratitude.”

You decide to let the architect win this battle. “Consider it my own thanks,” at the look of confusion he gives you, you are quick to explain: “For the library. It’s something this place desperately needs.”

Kaveh's smile is a bit more warm than polite. "It's my pleasure to work on any desert revitalization efforts."

You sit on one of the stray crates close by and gesture for the architect to sit beside you. He does, setting his toolbox beside him, it's bright green glow gone. "When it comes to this library you're building, can we expect to see it decorated entirely in plants?"

"I'll have to disappoint you," the man laughs sheepishly. "The building will probably be plainer than you're thinking."

"Don't worry, I was just pulling your chain," you reassure him. "It's enough that the children here will have a place to study."

“Plants have never been my strong suit,” the architect admits with a begrudging tone. “I’m happy with the Vision I have but plants aren’t an element I have a natural affinity for. I would have expected something more fitting to my interests or maybe that has more to do with my career.” He then mutters something along the lines of ‘maybe Geo or Cryo for sample constructs’, lost completely in thought.

He really is beautiful. It’s a look you’ve seen on him before from a distance. Deep in thought in the glow of the sun that made his hair shine more bright and his red eyes a red as deep as the cloths eremites use to cover their eyes.

“I have a friend with a Dendro Vision who hails from the Amurta Darshan, he definitely is able to use his to its fullest extent,” Kaveh sighs in finality. "I'll see if there are any plants he recommends for the desert

“I think it suits you,” a blond eyebrow raises in curiosity. As if he's challenging you for such a thought. An architect with with the power of plants doesn't seem that ridiculous a notion to you.

“The rainforest is your home so I think Dendro suits you just fine." He's much like the plants of Sumeru himself with the bright colors he swaddled in. "You’ve grown into your plants quite well, son of the rainforest. Besides, flowers are beautiful. Beautiful things are best suited for beautiful people.”

Perhaps that was too honest if Kaveh’s flaming red face at your candor is anything to go off of.

“As for myself, a Vision would be nice but I don’t need one. My ambitions in life are simpleー give my sisters the life I couldn’t have," you continue on, looking at your sisters.

They have no scarabs of their own to join in their friends' game, but they are watching the present match enthusiastically.

It’s a goal that can be accomplished with or without a Vision, blessings from the gods are simply boons for that goal. “I want them to go to the Akademiya and have the best chance at a good life. Maybe meeting you will inspire them to join Kshahrewar and become architects. Whatever makes them happy.”

Your words bring Kaveh out his flustered stupor, crossing his arms with a look of indignance. “I refuse to let those two be architects,” he says too resolutely for someone who is practically a stranger to the three of you. “If they want peace, they should definitely find a different field of study.”

You snort in amusement, “Setaria was telling me about how you’re this bigshot architect in the capital and you don’t want more students to join the craft?”

Kaveh shudders as if recalling terrible, terrible memories. “I’m surprised my hair hasn’t already turned gray,” he nods to himself, even more convinced than before. “Those girls look more like Amurta researchers to me. Maybe Spantamad if they find they like field research.”

“I’ll be sure to pass on your opinions to them, Mr. Kaveh,” you say with a bemused grin. “Maybe in the future they’ll surprise us both and do none of the things we’re talking about.” But as long as it isn’t mercenary work, it doesn’t matter.

"Kaveh," the architect corrects you. "You can just call me Kaveh. No formalities needed."

"Feel free to just call me [First]," you grin. You believe you'll enjoy working this project for however long you're needed. You don't think it's too arrogant to believe the man beside you is thinking the same. "No formalities needed."

Extra:

I was heavily moved to write this because I was thinking about VADTD's Penelope and how when she first met Callisto her eyes were drawn to his golden hair. I have a weakness for 2D blonds that that have red eyes, it's such a sexy combo in manhwas

#look she's writing #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh x you

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