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krkiiz · 5 months

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mastermind . luke castellan x reader

maybe the things that led luke to you were never accidental at all

luke castellan x f!reader . reader is the daughter of demeter . tooth rotting fluff , established relationship , nicknames

note : this is inspired by mother tay tay’s song “mastermind” (one of my fav songs in midnights frr) not edited! sorry for some mistakes. Hope you enjoy <3

The camp was never silent. Songs of birds echoed all across the painted skies, gallops of pegasus clapping through the fields, chatters of the half-bloods, sounds of clashing swords, shots of arrows. The camp was never silent.

Yet the two of you sat on the edge of a cliff, the camp’s background noises fully muted, too engrossed with each other’s presence as your hands interlaced as one.

From the top, you could see the overview of the camp. As the sun sets on the west, you get the best view of the skies painted in an orange hue, with hints of blue as the moon begins to rise.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Eyes still on the canvas of clouds, you asked your boyfriend beside you.

“Of course I do, flower.” A small chuckle blew from his lips. “How could I ever forget.” The boy smiled, recalling his encounter with you a few months back.

You tore your gaze from the orange hues to the boy by your side, raising an eyebrow of amusement.

“No, literally. I tripped and got stuck on a vine, and you helped me. It was so embarrassing, I swear, sunshine.” You tilt your head back, erupting in laughter as your boyfriend covered his face that was now as red as strawberries that grew in the camp’s garden.

“That was hell of a first impression, though.” You pointed out. “What were you even doing in the woods alone, by the way?” You asked the boy, curiosity grew in your heart akin to sprouting apples on a tree.

“I don’t know, I guess I felt drawn.” He shrugged sheepishly.

“Drawn? To the forest?”

“To you, flower.” He winked and you rolled your eyes playfully. “Ew Luke, get away or I’ll push you off this cliff right now.”

Luke glowed as he dove into the epiphany of laughters and you joined soon after. “I’m just kidding.” He pinched your cheek softly triggering a frown from you.

“Do you remember the next time that we met?” You tore your gaze from your boyfriend, eyes now settling on the deep blue that was slowly taking over the horizon as the orange tinge melts in the west. The setting sun was truly a sight to behold. But to Luke, no creations of the gods or even titans could ever compare to the beauty of the demigod by his side

Not hearing an answer, you turned your head towards the curly haired boy, the view of his pupils dilating as your e/c hues melted into his own clear as daylight. “Love? Is everything alright?”

Luke now understood how Hades had fall for Persephone as he had found himself entranced by the beauty of another one of Demeter’s daughter before him. The light breeze flushed against your cheeks, how you would always look beautiful even when your hair becomes a mess after training. How your skin glowed in sunlight rivaling Apollo’s children themselves. To Luke, you are his epitome of beauty. Like a single rose that stood amidst thorn bushes. But he has to be careful. One prick is all it takes to let his heart bleed out in his hands.

“Hm? Oh yeah everything’s fine. Don’t worry, darling.” He shifted closer, his fingers grazing yours. “Anyways as you were asking, yes I remember our second meeting. And our meetings after that and after that.” He smiled, recalling the memories.

“We keep meeting up by accident after that first meeting.” He chuckled softly.

You hummed. “Don’t you think it’s weird though? How we keep meeting accidentally after that?” You tilt your head slightly.

“Maybe fate brought us together. Who knows?”

“Yes…” You trailed off. “Or maybe it’s something else.” You started playing with his fingers that was laced with yours, but your eyes remained on him as you observed the slightest shift in his visage.

“What are you saying, flower?”

“What if I told you that…none of it was ever accidental at all?”

Silence engulfed you in the shape of a cold, harsh breeze. The sun was long gone by now. From here, you could see the luminescent glow of Artemis’ vacant cabin, as well as the campfire that brew from the other campers.

Your heart ached at the gap between you as Luke as he slowly untangle your fingers. From outside, you look the same as ever, waiting patiently for his response. Inside however, your head was screaming in every corner, anxious thoughts clouding your thought bubbles as you think of every worst possible scenarios that might happen.

Great job! He probably think you’re a stalker now and wants to break up with you.

Break up? You didn’t want to break up with him! Of course not, you love him and he loves you! … Right?

The storm that was raining all over your thoughts were soon crushed by the slight upturn that formed on one of the corners of your boyfriend’s lip.

He noticed your slightly stiff stance, he took your departed hands once more, knowing it will ease your nerves. “I know, Yn.”

You always loved how your name rolled off his tongue. So effortlessly as it calls your given name with such love, such adoration. Yet it was his answer that got you off guard.

“Really?? You knew, after all this time?”

“You really think you can trick the son of the god of tricks?” He pointed out, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

“This is so embarrassing.” You bury your blood-rushed cheeks into your palms and Luke smiled at the sight, admiring the red hue that settled on your ears and face.

“Hey don’t be! Truth be told, I only found out from the nymphs.” Your eyes lit up at his confession. Maybe your plan wasn’t that horrible after all. “Well I mean that only confirmed it. I had my suspicions about your little master plan after our third time of meeting accidentally.”

Your groan in your hands. “What did the nymphs tell you?”

“That you had a crush on me.” He paused looking at your tomato face. “And that you were too shy to make the first move.” He peeled your fingers from your cheeks, revealing the scarlet hues on your facial epidermis.

“It was impressive though, you little mastermind. It worked didn’t it?” He placed his palms on your cheeks, caressing it like a fragile vase.

You brought him closer, leaning your forehead against his as you brushes your lips on the tip of his nose. “Yeah. I guess it did.”

The demigod frowned as he missed the presence of your lips on his skin. He leant more forward, your noses grazed each other and he finally sealed the distance of your lips with a soft kiss.

The moon shone with a glow more ethereal than usual, the stars map out the skies like seas of glitter. You both dove head first into the epiphany of love. Lips press against another as nature becomes the witness of two demigods’ form of adoration.

©️ sirena | krkiiz 2023

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson #pjo show #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo #luke x reader #demigods

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talesofesther · 4 months

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wildflowers

Astarion Ancunin x Reader

Summary: Astarion has shared a lot of firsts with you already, and you just so decided to add one more to the list.

A/N: A little something special for valentine's day. <3

Masterlist

You'd grown up around flowers.

With your mother being a druid, it was only natural that wherever you went, nature followed. Even in your family's estate back in the city, the walls were adorned with all kinds of colorful plants and vines, the air feeling all the more pure inside your lungs and the green leaves being a sight for any sore eyes.

You'd spend hours in the garden, tending to the seedlings and speaking more with the flora than you did with people.

That's why, after the nautiloid's crash and as you walked through unknown lands, you found some semblance of comfort in all the wildflowers adorning your mysterious path.

You hummed a song under your breath as your boots crushed the gravel underneath, feet a little sore with all the walking you'd done today, but you needed to reach the shadow-cursed lands as soon as possible; how much time you had left remained uncertain.

Shadowheart had already started complaining about the rough terrain too, and with the sun starting to set on the mountainous horizon, you figured you could set up camp soon.

"I'm not offering any rides, if that's what you're thinking."

You caught the end of the cleric's conversation with Astarion, and at his quip, you changed a glance in his direction.

He caught your gaze, lips quirking in a small smirk as he gave you a wink that got you avoiding his stare again when you felt warmth coming to your cheeks.

You'd grown fond of the pale elf, it's true. But part of you thinks he's grown fond of you, too. At first, his smiles at you were sharp as a dagger or overly seductive, yet lately, there's been a softer edge to them.

Blinking at the golden sunlight in your eyes, you started scouting the area for a good place to rest, and that's when you caught sight of a patch of white on the ground. Leaving your companions to discuss amongst themselves whether it was late enough to camp or not, you walked up to it.

There, on the edge of a set of bushes and trees, stood a small bundle of star-shaped white flowers, their six petals delicate and thin; the bright white stood out amidst the deep browns and greens.

You reached down to run a gentle finger over one petal. And as you plucked a single flower from the bunch, you couldn't help but think of him.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

Bags were being dropped onto the ground with a few tired groans escaping your companions. You'd found a decent enough place, tucked in between old ruins and overlooking a breathtaking view of the nearly set sun.

You gave a sympathetic smile to Karlach as you passed by her tent, watching with a fond glint in your eyes as your fiery friend ruffled the fur of her teddy bear. Such a softy at heart.

Astarion had his nose buried in a book, and that's where you were headed. Whenever he concentrated on his reading, he'd furrow his brows ever so slightly; sometimes he'd play with his fangs, running his tongue over them and biting his lower lip. It was endearing, you wondered if he knew he did it.

You approached him, heart in your mouth and white flower held in between your fingers. The last of the golden rays were kissing his skin, he looked ethereal.

"Hey," you spoke lowly, the moment seemed to call for it.

The elf perked up at your voice, a smile instantly painting his face as he closed his book to settle his attention on you. "Hello darling, what can I do for you?"

You shook your head briefly, "Nothing, I just came to give you this." You raised the single flower with a timid tilt of your lips, hesitating on your next words, "It… reminded me of you."

Astarion looked at you as if you'd just asked his hand in marriage. He kept quiet, eyes way too wide and jaw way too tense for such a simple moment. You wondered if you'd somehow poked at something you weren't supposed to poke. If flowers brought him bad memories or if maybe he was allergic to them.

You watched as he gulped, avoided your eyes, and then looked at you again. He raised his hand but it was a clumsy gesture, as if he had no clue what to do.

Your heart shattered when you wondered if he had ever received any flowers in his life.

Taking half a step closer, you took the liberty of placing the flower in Astarion's hand, wrapping your fingers around his own so you could close his grip around the delicate thing. "It's for you." You reassured again.

With a gentle smile, you ran your thumb over his knuckles and turned around to check on your other companions, figuring he could use the time alone.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

Astarion never cared much for flowers.

In his 200 years of torment, trapped in an eternal night, there wasn't much room for color and delicacy.

There were rare times he saw it, when he'd stumble upon a young couple, one person bowing lightly with a smile as they gave the other a flower; both drunk in passion. He never understood the gesture. Everyone did it, but why?

Was it a silent request for something in turn? Was it a sign of commitment? Or did it happen simply to show affection?

In any case, he did not need to understand it, it's not like anyone would be handing him flowers.

Wrong. Maybe he did have to.

Because you had just given him a flower.

You had captured his attention ever since he put a dagger to your throat when you first met. His excuse for the captivation was because you'd be an easy one to seduce, nothing more. He'd charm you, gain your affection, and secure his safety in your group of misfits that you were unintentionally leading.

A simple plan, all he had to do was not have any feelings of his own. Yet it seemed like your plan, was to make his more difficult.

"It's for you." You'd told him, voice as sweet as honey and as soft as velvet as you placed the white flower in his hand.

Astarion held onto the delicate plant as if it could crumble between his fingers.

Would he care if it did? The thought certainly didn't bring him joy.

His mouth stayed agape, fangs barely poking from behind his lips. Looking between you and the pale white of the flower, he didn't know what to make of it. Did you want something from him? Was there some hidden message behind the gesture he was yet to understand?

You simply gave him a soft smile, bashful eyes avoiding his, and kept on walking. Just like that. As if you hadn't just turned his world upside down.

Was this what… affection looked like?

A small scoff escaped Astarion then. Clearly, his plan was working, you were growing fond of him. So naive, so easy.

But then… why did he feel like his dead heart was the one coming back alive only so it could beat for you?

All of a sudden he felt tainted for treating you as if you were nothing more than one of his victims. But did that mean he wanted you to be something more?

The question didn't even seem like it was his to decide anymore.

Astarion looked down at the delicate flower in his hand, twirling it around and making the petals dance.

"It reminded me of you."

His ruby eyes seemed to sting. When was the last time someone had compared him with something as delicate and precious as this?

He looked up at you again, watching as you crouched down to cup Scratch's cheeks and most likely spoke with him in that silly voice you always made.

There was a weight in Astarion's chest, heavy yet warm, scary yet pleasant. He wondered, would you catch him if he fell for you?

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

Next morning you woke up to the sight of a carefully crafted bouquet resting just beside your bedroll. Wildflowers of all colors and shapes held together by a single strip of red satin.

Astarion watched from afar, as you picked it up and buried your nose into the flowers, smiling brightly as your fingertips traced the shape of them.

When you raised your gaze to him, a dark blush dusted his cheeks and the tip of his ears. He didn't know what love looked like; but he's learning, he thinks. And if the feeling inside his chest is any indication, it looks a lot like you.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us @asterordinary

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #astarion imagine #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #astarion fanfic #my story #astarion ancunin

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kyloherrera · 4 months

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۫ 𑄼ల۫ ۪ FEB 8 — PROPOSE

featuring: dot, , abel, rayne, odler, mash, lance. finn, abyss x gn! reader

note: hope you like, this is very fluffy, and a big comfort for me <3

summary: how would mashle boys propose to their s/o

genre: fluff || event || patreon

✦ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇

-Mash has decided that its time to take the next step in his relantionship with.

-While grand gestures and elaborate plans aren't mash style, but he wants to make this moment special nonetheless.

-One day, Mash takes you on a walk to their favorite spot in the forest, a serene clearing surrounded by towering trees

-As you stroll hand in hand, Mash's heart pounds with anticipation, but he tries to keep his composure.

-Finally reaching the clearing, Mash pauses and turns to you , his eyes filled with unwavering love and determination.

- He takes a deep breath and begins to speak from the heart, expressing his gratitude for their unwavering support and the happiness you've brought into his life.

-Then in his characteristic straightforward manner, Mash kneels down before you and reaches into his pocket,

-He pulls out a small, crudely crafted ring made from twigs and vines. It's not flashy or extravagant, but it's a symbol of his sincerity and devotion.

-With a voiced emotion reflected in his voice, Mash asks you to spend the rest of their life with him, promising to always stand by your side and protect you with all his strength.

✦𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

-Lance would orchestrate an extravagant evening at the most luxurious venue in town.

-He would spare no expense in creating an ambiance of opulence, with twinkling lights, fine dining, and a live band playing romantic melodies in the background.

-Lance would take your hand and begin to express his feelings, weaving words of love and admiration with his signature charm and wit.

-Then, in a moment of theatrical flair, Lance snaps his fingers, and fireworks burst into the sky outside, illuminating the night with a dazzling display of colors. The crowd gasps in awe, and you look on in astonishment.

-With all eyes on you, Lance drops to one knee, producing a velvet box from his pocket. Inside gleams a stunning diamond ring, reflecting the brilliance of the fireworks above.

-In a voice filled with sincerity, Lance pours his heart out, expressing his unwavering devotion and his desire to spend eternity with his beloved. He asks the all-important question, his eyes shimmering with anticipation.

✦𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐍

-Finn most likely would propose in a place that holds special significance for both him and you.

-A serene meadow where they often go to unwind and connect with nature. He carefully chooses the time, waiting for the perfect sunset to cast a warm glow over the landscape.

-A vast expanse of wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze, with the colors of the setting sun painting the sky in hues of gold and pink. show in front of your eyes.

-With a gentle smile, Finn takes your hand and leads you to a spot in the meadow's center, where a picnic blanket is spread out under a towering oak tree

- He invites you to sit beside him, taking a moment to savor the tranquility of the moment.

-As you watch he sun dip below the horizon, Finn begins to speak from the heart, expressing his love and gratitude for you.

-Then, reaching into his pocket, Finn pulls out a small, intricately carved wooden box. Opening it, he reveals a simple yet elegant ring, crafted from a rare wood found only in the deepest parts of the forest.

-With trembling hands, Finn takes your hand and gazes into their eyes, his voice steady but filled with emotion. He asks you to be his partner for life, promising to cherish and support them through every challenge and triumph.

✦𝐃𝐎𝐓

-Dot decides to propose in a place that holds sentimental value for both them and you.

A quaint café where they shared their first date. He chooses a time when the café is relatively quiet, allowing for an intimate and personal moment.

-He leads you to a secluded corner of the café, where a table is adorned with flickering candles and a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Soft music plays in the background, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

-With a nervous but determined smile, Dot takes your hand and begins to speak from the heart. They express their love and admiration, recounting the moments you've shared together and the ways in which you had enriched their life.

-Then, reaching into their bag, Dot retrieves a small, beautifully wrapped gift box. Inside lies a carefully crafted scrapbook filled with cherished memories—photographs, ticket stubs, and handwritten notes documenting your journey as a couple.

-As you flipped through the pages of the scrapbook, tears of joy well up in your eyes. Each memory serves as a testament to the depth of your love and the bond you share.

-With trembling hands, Dot takes your hand and gazes into their eyes. They pour their heart out, expressing their deepest desires and their unwavering commitment to your happiness.

-Finally, with a nervous laugh, Dot presents a velvet box containing a delicate ring—a symbol of their love and devotion. They ask you to spend the rest of their life with them, promising to stand by their side through thick and thin.

✦𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐒

-Abyss chooses a secluded and mystical forest shrouded in mist and shadow. They choose a moonlit night when the stars are bright, casting an ethereal glow over the landscape.

-When you reach a clearing deep within the forest—a place untouched by time, where magic seems to linger in the air. In the center of the clearing stands a stone altar, illuminated by flickering torches and adorned with mystical runes. Abyss takes your hand and leads them to the altar.

-Their eyes gleam with determination as they begin to speak in a voice that resonates with power and authority.

-Abyss expresses their love and admiration for you, weaving words of mystery and intrigue with a hint of vulnerability. They recount the moments you 've shared together, the challenges you've faced, and the bond that has grown between you.

-Then, reaching into the folds of their cloak, Abyss Razor retrieves a small, intricately carved box—an artifact of ancient origin. With reverence, they open the box to reveal a ring unlike any other—a band of blackened metal adorned with a single glowing gemstone, said to hold the power of the abyss itself.

-With a solemn expression, Abyss Razor looks into your eyes and speaks from the depths of their soul. They ask you to join them on a journey of darkness and light, of mystery and adventure, promising to stand by your side through every trial and tribulation.

✦𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

-Like Dot, Rayne decides to propose in a place that holds sentimental value for both them and you.

-a secluded beach where you often go to find solace and tranquility. They choose a time when the sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the sand and sea.

-As you arrive at the beach, you are greeted by the soothing sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the salty breeze, and the soft hues of the setting sun painting the sky in shades of pink and gold.

-With a gentle smile, Rayne takes your hand and leads you to a quiet spot near the water's edge.You sit together, watching the sun dip below the horizon, enveloped in the serenity of the moment.

-As the last rays of sunlight fade away, Rayne begins to speak from the heart, expressing their love and gratitude for you. They recount the moments you've shared together—the laughter, the tears, and the deep connection that binds you.

-Then, reaching into their pocket, Rayne retrieves a small, intricately crafted shell—a token of their affection. He, offers you the shell, explaining its significance as a symbol of their love and devotion.

✦𝐎𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐑

-He selected a a serene botanical garden filled with exotic plants and flowers. He choose a time when the garden is in full bloom, bursting with vibrant colors and intoxicating fragrances.

-With a warm smile, Odler takes your hand and leads them along the winding pathways, pausing to admire the beauty of each flower and plant you encounter. You share stories and laughter, lost in the magic of the garden.

-Finally,you both reach a secluded spot in the heart of the garden—a hidden alcove adorned with blooming roses and twinkling fairy lights.

-With a tender expression, Odler begins to speak from the heart, expressing their love and admiration for you. They recount the moments you've shared together—your conversations, your adventures, and the deep connection that binds it.

-Then, reaching into their pocket, Odler retrieves a small, leather-bound book—a collection of poems and love letters they've written for you. With trembling hands, they read aloud a passage that captures the essence of their love and devotion.

-In a voice filled with sincerity, Odler looks into your eyes and speaks the words they've been longing to say. They ask you to spend the rest of your life with them, promising to cherish and support them through every moment, both joyful and challenging.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

@stvrlightt123 @Mysticalpersonpoetry @mailkyeom03

#mashle x reader #mashle x you #mashle fluff #mash x reader #lance x reader #dot barrett x reader #abyss razor x reader #finn ames x reader #rayne ames x reader #odler x reader #dot barrett x you #rayne ames x you #mash x you #lance x you #odler x you

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daisynik7 · 7 months

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Neighbor Nanami headcanon where he uses his new neighbors mini garden on their balcony as a conversation starter. Man had a crush for his pretty neighbor since she moved in months ago, but his tongue is always tied but one day he notices she is growing cherry tomatoes among all the flowers and herbs and his mouth is faster then his brain

Author's Note: This has been sitting in my inbox for months now, I'm so sorry it took so long for me to reply! I hope you enjoy this little drabble. :) Heart divider credit to @/cafekitsune!

You sip your coffee on the balcony, relaxing into the patio chair, basking in the morning sunshine. It’s been almost two months now since you moved into this new apartment and it finally feels like home. The first week you arrived, your parents helped you plant a miniature herb garden and you’ve somehow managed to keep it alive since. It’s now sprawling with fresh basil, parsley, and cilantro, all of which you use often to elevate certain recipes. You glance at the pot beside it, inspecting the cherry tomato plant you received as a house-warming gift from a friend. So far, no fruit yet, only leaves, though you’re hopeful you’ll see progress soon.

Right on cue, you hear the distinct swoosh of a sliding door opening, then see your neighbor step out onto his balcony. You smile at him, waving. “Good morning, Nanami.”

He turns to face you, giving you a polite nod, a steaming mug of hot tea in his hand. “Good morning.”

Your conversations usually don’t last very long. Sometimes it ends just like this, with the both of you silently enjoying the quiet morning together until either of you decide it’s time to get ready for work. He’s a quiet man, maybe even a little shy at times. Though you find comfort in his presence.

You watch him from the corner of your eye as he takes a sip of his tea, staring out into the horizon. Golden streaks of sunlight shine on him, casting a beautiful glow on his figure. He’s handsome, that’s for sure. You’ve always thought that ever since you met him.

Feeling chatty today, you stand up, walking to your garden, grazing the delicate basil leaves between your fingers. “Do you cook?”

He’s surprised at your question, hesitating slightly before he answers, “Yes, I do.”

“My garden is overflowing now. Would you like some fresh herbs?”

He walks to the end of the balcony closest to you. “Are you sure?”

You grin at him. “Of course! I don’t know what else to do with all the excess. I’m running out of recipe ideas.”

His mouth opens, but then closes, remaining silent. You’re curious what he wants to say, though you don’t ask, plucking the stems off gently. “I’ll put these in a bag for you.”

When you return, you notice him staring at the cherry tomato plant, studying it carefully. You hand the herbs to him, hoping he’d ask you about it. Instead, all he says is a quiet, “Thank you,” before bidding you farewell, going inside.

You sigh, sinking back into your patio chair, wondering what you’re doing wrong.

When the tomatoes sprout, you can’t contain your excitement, spending the morning marveling at the round green bulbs decorating the vines. Nanami is out with you, remaining silent, though you catch him glancing in your direction a few times. You want so badly to converse with him, but you’re unsure how. He hasn’t mentioned anything about the herbs since you gave it to him over a week ago. Did he use them yet? What did he cook with it?

Finally, on the day your little tomato babies are bright red, Nanami speaks to you. “Cherry tomatoes,” he says, looking at your plant.

You beam at him. “Aren’t they beautiful?”

He gazes at you, smiling. “Yes. Beautiful.”

Butterflies flap around in your stomach and suddenly, you’re speechless, unable to think of anything else to say. But you don’t need to, because this time, Nanami does the talking. “I’ve used up all of the herbs you gave me. Thank you again.”

“I’m so glad you found a use for them,” you reply, finding your voice, standing as close to his balcony as possible. “I’m not sure yet what I’ll use these tomatoes for.”

He does the same, and it feels like there’s barely any distance separating you now. “I know a great pasta recipe I can show you. If you’d like.” There’s a hint of blush in his cheeks. Maybe this is what he’s wanted to tell you all along.

You smile wider at him, happy with this progress. “I’d love that.”

#nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #requests

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robo-dino-puppy · 2 years

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tracker

hfw face(paint)s 26/?

#horizon forbidden west #hfw #aloy #nora tracker #with nora scout facepaint #you would not believe the s t r u g g l e this one caused me #was trying to find some interesting plants #for her to 'push' out of the way with this pose #(high hand)#i did so many different tries #also #this pose is confusing to set up #i swear she doesn't always face the same direction she's facing in-game #but for the life of me i can't figure out which direction to turn her lol #full disclosure i did edit in some more leaves #bc this vine was a bit sparse #but i'm very happy with it!#hfw facepaints

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 7 months

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the green in your eyes (makes me feel warm inside) ; megumi fushiguro

synopsis; in the comfort of a familiar bookstore, you find a boy. a pretty boy, who’s always reading, who doesn’t speak unless he has to. you’d like to get to know him — and maybe you will.

word count; 4.6k

contents; megumi fushiguro/reader, gn!reader, fluffy!!, lots of pining from afar, bookstore au, no curses au, reader is an overworked student bc uni is beating my ass, gumi is kind of awkward but hes cute <3, gojo mentioned twice (stay safe), can u tell im excited for christmas … :'3

a/n; bookstore employee gumi who hates every single customer except for you is so real to me

(@riaki its here …🙇‍♂️)

he’s there again.

with a decisive step forward, you drag the door open, and the flutter of a bell resounds throughout the bookstore. a precious little jingle, alerting him of your presence.

the boy at the counter gives you a glance. his navy eyes settle on your bundled up figure, and a flicker of familiarity blooms in the scope of his iris, a kind of recognition. something that makes your heart feel like a clumped up little ball of snow.

(oh. it’s you.

you can almost hear the silent words fall past his lips.)

it only lasts for a second, barely even that, your gazes overlapping — then he’s back to reading.

today, you recognize the book in his hands. the hardcover looks just a tiny bit worn, but still well taken care of. well-loved. and it’s a pretty rendition; a butterfly just above the title, snakes crawling on either side, vines stretching out across the scope of the image. there’s a kind of mystique to it. pretty.

wuthering heights, you read off the cover.

a little odd, in hindsight. you’ve only ever seen him read nonfiction. maybe he decided to broaden his horizons?

after a brief moment’s contemplation, your feet begin to move. taking another small step forward, inching closer, while the door falls shut behind you. blocking out the snowfall and colourful lights illuminating the street.

mitten-clad hands go to brush stray snowflakes off your shoulders, as you shift from foot to foot, halfheartedly attempting to warm up your numbed toes. wallowing in the atmosphere of the cozy little bookstore; breathing in the smell of peppermint, the hint of freshly brewed coffee. from the boy, you assume — he’s got his usual mug on standby, a cute little black dog etched into the ceramic. steam rises from it, floating up into the air, and a fragrance of espresso wafts throughout the store.

low christmas music plays from the speakers, barely audible. pleasing to your sensitive ears and tired mind. it’s the usual mix of well-loved songs, for the most part, but then some you haven’t heard before. you can only assume he picked them out himself; pretty instrumentals, or low, gravelly voices, adding to that particular atmosphere simmering around you. nostalgic, a little melancholic.

the boy behind the counter looks angelic.

he always does, when he’s reading — and he usually is. gentle, in the way he turns the pages, awfully delicate, keeping them still between his thumb and forefinger. lips pursed, brows just a tiny bit furrowed. concentrated, immersed. dark eyes trailing over the tiny letters, scanning the ink of the paper, twisting the syllables inside his mind. almost tasting them on his tongue, with the way he wets his lips. they look a little chapped.

for some reason, the sight seems to render you sort of speechless. frozen. like he’s a pretty bluebird seated on your windowsill, chirping softly in the wake of morning, and you’re afraid of scaring him away.

— his eyes meet yours, and you visibly stiffen.

it’s smooth, the motion of his hands. how swiftly he flicks the book shut, placing it face down on the counter with a twitch of his lithe fingers. not before slipping a pretty bookmark in between the pages, lilac-coloured, with flowers embroidered into the silky texture. you wonder if he made it himself.

his voice spills out into the air, a little raspy. deep, but velvety, sending shivers down your spine. he clears his throat, and you watch his adam’s apple bob. ”do you need anything?”

a second passes.

it catches you off guard, the mellow sound of his voice. when you’re so unaccustomed to hearing it. excluding the brief words you’ve exchanged paying for your novels, you’ve only heard it a select few times — mostly from afar, not-so-sneakily listening in on his conversations with the pink haired boy and pretty girl who sometimes come in and never look at any of the books.

(there’s the tall guy with the not-so-seasonal sunglasses, too. but when he enters the store, all you pick up on are usually grumbles and threatening hand gestures.)

but now, that low, low voice is directed at you.

it can’t be good for your physical health. or mental, for that matter. you’re not sure you remember to properly breathe, and you’re almost certain hearts aren’t supposed to flail the way yours is right now.

when the boy behind the counter tilts his head, just by a hair, you’re finally snapped out of your little trance. stumbling for something to say, stuttering out a response, your hands grip at the insides of your pockets.

”well, um — i’m looking for a book.”

a moment passes. the song coming from the speakers changes into an instrumental, kind of jazzy. it’s nice.

”… a specific book,” you elaborate, under your breath. gnawing at your bottom lip, feeling a bit of heat on your ears. clearing your throat, as you step forward, tearing your mittens off with your teeth.

searching for a certain image, your numbed fingertips begin to tap at the cold screen of your phone. the warm air of the bookstore envelops your chilled knuckles, and a shiver runs through them.

the boy watches, silently, as you get closer.

you don’t notice him glancing at your reddened hands, and when you look up to see a glimmer of something displeased in his eyes, you only assume it’s because you’re taking too long. speeding up slightly, you hear a low click of his tongue. his back straightens.

when he gets up from his chair, you notice that he's tall. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him do anything but sit behind the counter with a book in hand, either reading his own or scanning a customer’s.

and, upon closer inspection — he’s maybe just a little bit too pretty for words. smooth, pale skin, a sharp jaw and defined cheekbones, dark eyes that hide a subtle kind of softness. pierced ears, a glimmer of silver on his earlobes, same as the rings on his bony fingers. his nails are painted black, a little chipped. and he’s wearing a big, bright green christmas sweater; one you really can’t imagine him picking out on his own, if his previous all-black turtlenecks and gray sweaters are anything to go by.

while you fumble with the phone in your grasp, the pads of his fingers go to silently tap at the edge of the counter. a rhythmic motion; forefinger, middle finger, ring finger, over and over again.

it’s a little bit distracting. when he moves his hand a certain way, his big sweater sleeve rides up just a tiny bit, showing off the blue veins of his inner wrist. you think you catch a glimpse of a mole or two on his pale skin, and you swallow down a gulp, feeling a little like a victorian man seeing a girl’s ankle.

and then finally, you locate the image in question. swiftly showing him the cover of the book you were assigned to read. he squints a little, blinking drowsily, a flutter of his pretty eyelashes that has your heart skipping a beat.

you clear your throat.

”i’m supposed to read it before christmas break, but i couldn’t find it at our library…” you tilt your head, a little sheepish. ”do you have it here?”

he stares at the screen for just a second more. then he’s angling his head to the left, finger pointing towards a corner of the store. ”it should be over there,” he hums. monotone.

a tentative smile forms on your lips. you thank him, and his eyes find yours.

all he does is shake his head, softly, brushing you off — a silent don’t worry about it. maybe a tad gruff, but you sense an acute gentleness to it. something tender, kind of. or maybe you’d just like to believe the kindness you sense in his eyes is real, more than just a delusion.

but you don’t have time to dwell on it. the boy behind the counter goes back to reading, cradling the spine with his pretty hands. when he tries to grab the handle of his mug, one of the rings on his fingers knock against the ceramic, and he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

you go to hunt down your own book, still thinking about his voice, how it trickled like honey from out his lips.

the bookstore is entirely empty, tonight. no loud noises drilling into your groggy brain, no people to chatter amongst themselves and disrupt the illusion of peace you gain when you spend time here. a tiny respite, from your studies, from the stress and fatigue that you’ve come to associate with winter. hunting for christmas gifts, finishing late assignments, trudging through the snow. pretending that you have it all together.

but here, none of that matters.

a sense of calm washes over you, as your eyes trail over the books by the science fiction section, and a soft sigh tumbles from your throat. gradually, your hands begin to warm up, and you look out the window.

outside, the world is blanketed by a veil of snow and frost, pure whites and murky grays as far as the eye can see. falling down to earth, smothering everything in a bitter chill. a cold, cold embrace. but when looking at it like this, from inside a cozy bookstore, with a pretty boy by the counter…

it's a breathtaking sight.

little snowflakes descending, dancing in the wind. desaturating your world. if you close your eyes and focus, you think you can almost feel the wind nip at your fingertips, almost taste the fragrance of dried tea leaves and caramel fudge from the tiny shop across the street. almost bask in the green and red of the decorative lights in the skeletal trees, illuminating the city, buzzing with artificial warmth.

(your heart feels light.)

it doesn’t take long for you to find the book you need. keeping it safe and warm between your arm and torso, you walk back to the counter, gaze still lingering on the windowpane. the little snowflakes fluttering about, the glimpses you catch of passerby and their knit scarves in the darkness of the winter evening.

the boy behind the counter is as efficient as ever. he takes the book, fingertips resting exactly where yours just were, and scans it in a matter of seconds. you pay, and he puts it in a plastic bag, handing it to you — all while his copy of wuthering heights sits on the counter, pointedly, as if beckoning you to mention it.

before you can think to stop yourself, you’ve parted your lips.

”is it good?” you ask. finger pointing at his book.

the boy blinks. eyelashes fluttering. once, then twice. he seems a little caught off guard, but still speaks within a split second. almost like he doesn’t even think about the answer. ”yeah.”

a hum buzzes in your throat. you shift a little, from foot to foot, plastic bag in hand. ”i’ve been meaning to read it,” you say, desperate to prolong the conversation, ”but i haven't had much time lately.”

a chuckle slips from your lips. it comes out sounding just a little exhausted.

(he glances at the dark bags beneath your eyes, but you don’t notice.)

”i think i might buy it in time for christmas break, though…” you lift your gaze to meet his own. showing the briefest glimpse of a smile, polite.

he doesn’t return it. lips pursed, silent, gazing at you with slightly lidded eyes. a navy blue, little splotches of a murky green blooming in the corners of his iris. they only appear when you’re this close. soothing, somehow. they’re pretty.

he isn’t saying anything, not a single word, and some part of your heart clogs up like a clump of wet snow. subconsciously, you trap your bottom lip between your teeth, digging into the soft flesh before letting go. cowering a little under his intense gaze.

did you annoy him?

(he probably doesn’t want to talk to you. maybe he thinks you’re hitting on him, or something. are you hitting on him? that doesn’t matter. he must be stressed — it’s holiday season, after all. the last thing he needs is some annoying customer taking up his precious reading time.

gosh, what were you even thinking?)

you’re just about to excuse yourself, mentally berating yourself for forcibly striking up a conversation with an obvious introvert —

when the sound of something sliding against wooden material catches your attention.

you blink.

the boy behind the counter does a little cough. under his breath, clearing his throat. he wets his lips, in what you immediately recognize as nervosity — absentmindedly fidgeting with the rings on his fingers.

”here.”

when you look down, a certain book is placed on the edge of the counter, right in front of you. wuthering heights.

another blink. you look down at the hardcover, and then back up at him, but he’s not meeting your gaze. if you look closely, you think you see a slight flush to his neck, red like a candy cane.

”you can borrow it,” he says. a pause. then he continues, clearing his throat again, a hint of hesitance in his raspy voice. ”… if you want to, i mean.”

”… ah.” is all you can answer. barely a word, more of a weak little hum. an absent tremble of your voice.

outside the comfort and warmth of the bookstore, the wind whistles, digging its claws into the city. tiny whirlwinds of snowflakes dance from street to street, fluttering about joyously. you vaguely pick up on the song from the speakers changing, into a poppy christmas-themed kpop song.

a moment passes.

your muddled mind finally reacts. on instinct, sending little instructions to your frozen limbs. to your heart, face down on the floor, completely useless.

”oh — no, there’s no need!” you blurt out, putting your hands up hastily. waving him off. ”it’s fine, i can just buy my own copy!”

but the boy only clicks his tongue, with that signature furrow of his brows. ”you’re a student,” he states, just a little gruff. but then there’s that kindness. ”you shouldn’t waste your money.”

you’re just about to protest, when he continues. ”besides,” he sighs. ”i’ve already read it. you can just bring it back whenever you’re done.”

and again, your instinctual desire is to protest. unsure of what to say, somehow exasperated by his trust. that’s what it is, isn’t it? trust. trusting a stranger, a customer he’s barely even spoken to, not to just take his book and then never return. trusting you to be a decent person. a good person.

isn’t that naive?

something sprouts like a snowdrop in a ridge between your ribs, though, and you know that it’s happiness of some kind. you’re glad, that he has something even vaguely similar to trust in you.

glad that he’s acknowledging you, in a way. your presence, the sneaky glances shared between you. the comfortable feeling that sleeps inside your veins when it's just you and him, silently passing each other by, in a quiet bookstore that feels a little like heaven on earth. a safe haven, of sorts, with no incompetent professors, tight deadlines or numb fingers.

it’s just him, and cozy christmas music, and a pitter patter rhythm of your heartbeat that sounds a little like jingle bells to your muddled mind.

a lump forms in the back of your throat. you gulp it back down, and part your lips. an unsure question spills into the open air.

”are… you really sure?”

”yeah.” he doesn’t even skip a beat. fingers tapping at the edge of the counter, over and over again. another slow moment passes. ”we can… talk. about it.” he coughs into his closed fist. ”once you've read it.”

with a soft furrow of his brows, he averts his gaze. his voice comes out sounding soft, albeit a little rough around the edges. ”if you want,” he adds.

you’re so distracted by the flutter of his long eyelashes that you barely even feel your lips stretch into a smile. your hearts skips around happily within the confines of your ribcage, and you’re worried that you might look a little too excited — but how could you ever hide your joy, when he’s acting so dangerously, uncharacteristically cute?

”yeah!” you blurt, teeth peeking out when you flash him a bright smile. and finally, he meets your gaze. pretty eyes fixed entirely on you.

at your evident enthusiasm, his shoulders seem to relax. the rapid tapping of his fingers ceases, and he opts to simply bite down on his lip — attempting to obscure his own smile. but you see it, anyway; a tiny, tiny smile. the softest little curl of his lips. you’re entirely mesmerized, all the same.

a hand goes to rub at the back of his neck, and he does that cute little cough again, and you wonder if the warmth sprouting in your chest will be enough to protect you from the snowfall on your way back home.

angelic; that’s the impression he always seems to leave you with. you wonder if he has any idea just how pretty he is. if he has the slightest clue. you wonder if you’ll ever be able to tell him, yourself.

you wonder if you’ll get to know him, someday. if you’ll ever get to know the pretty, quiet boy behind the counter of your go-to bookstore, who radiates a softness so palpable you wish you could stay there until spring blooms beyond the windows and melts the frosted glass.

with tentative hands, a little shaky — not from the cold, but the anxious and excited tingle of your bloodstream — you reach for the book on the counter. taking it into your arms, cradling it gently, like it’s so fragile the pages could scatter away if you aren’t careful. with a steady hand on its spine, you begin to flip through the pages, until three little words on the first blank page catch your attention.

without thinking, you repeat the little scribbled down sentence under your breath. hoping for something. more lulls of his voice, maybe, mumbling to yourself but hoping he’ll hear.

”happy birthday, tsumiki…”

the boy stiffens.

a silent beat. then he clears his throat. ”my sister,” he explains, and you hum.

so he has a sister. a tiny fragment of his existence, now known to you, a little piece of trivia. you want to collect them, want to put them all in your pockets and carry them around, like little precious bells.

”megumi,” he blurts out, sudden, and you look up from the book to meet his gaze. ”my name,” he elaborates. and then a pause. ”i work here.”

…

in a matter of seconds, his face reddens. ears and neck slathered over with that sweet cherry hue, blooming across his pale skin. a soft giggle slips from your lips, before you can think to bite it back, and that red hue exacerbates.

”mm,” you hum, an amused smile on your face. eyes crinkling as you look at him, book safe and secure in your arms. ”i've seen you.”

megumi looks a bit like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. squirming slightly, shifting from foot to foot, tugging a little at the sleeve of his sweater. looking into your eyes, and then back at the counter.

it’s sweet. it makes you feel closer to him, somehow. like you aren’t the only nervous one here. like you aren’t the only person in this city who’s a little bit of a mess.

(it makes the sludge piling up inside your brain feel just a little more bearable.)

”… thank you.” you smile. ”i’ll take good care of it. and i’ll bring it right back when i finish it.”

a low hum. megumi brings a hand up to fix his bangs, nimble fingers running through dark locks. absentminded — a nervous habit, maybe? ”don’t worry about it,” is all he says.

again, that sweet dichotomy; a hint of something gruff, hiding an unmistakable softness. a little like snow. cold to the touch, enough to make you want to stay away, but then it melts on the skin of your palm. turns soft and warm beneath your touch.

unable to fully hide the smile still lingering on your lips, you allow yourself one final inhale — letting that scent of peppermint and espresso invade your mind, soothing every frazzled nerve inside your brain. then you put wuthering heights in your bag, protected and snug, and get ready to leave.

it’s still snowing. if anything, it seems to have gotten worse, enough that all you see when you glance towards the frosted windows are little clumps of snowflakes. obscuring everything else.

just when you’re about to speak, say a little goodbye, a voice spills out into the air.

”… the snow’s supposed to get worse. apparently.”

his navy eyes carry a gentle hue, as they look into yours. maybe a little worried, like a protective mother wolf towards her cub. you blink, and megumi sees it as his cue to continue.

”you can stay until it gets better.”

a brief pause. his signature cough reaches your ears, and it’s enough to have you smiling, even before he adds a tiny if you feel like it. nonchalant, or at least you think that’s what he’s going for. he mostly just sounds like an awfully caring person trying awfully hard to appear uncaring.

and again, a little smile slips itself into the curl of your lips. all giddy and nervous, a little flustered. but happy. now you won’t have to walk through the relentless snowfall outside, feel the wind chew at your reddened cheekbones. now you can spend just a bit more time with him, bask in those quiet, drawn out moments of pure peace, browsing through books while he sits and reads behind the counter.

”thanks,” you breathe. adjusting your knitted scarf. ”i think i'll look at the books a little more, then.”

megumi’s eyes soften. relieved, you think. hope. it’s a subtle shift, but still enough to notice, enough to see. little splotches of a mossy green sinking into that sea of ink blue.

you think he must feel a little embarrassed, though. like he’s gotten too close to broaching the line he’s set up between the two of you. because he quickly fixes his gaze entirely on a book in his hands, a new one — was it just waiting beneath the counter?

you don't think much of it, but you note that he's back to his usual nonfiction. something on astronomy, you think.

and with one final glance at his tousled hair, you begin to stroll through the store. languidly, walking to whatever spine captures your attention. savouring the tiny words on the back of the books, wallowing in the peppermint and espresso that wafts through the air, only growing heavier while you’re busy admiring the white opaque frosting of the windows’ glass.

at some point, the low whirring of a coffee machine buzzes from afar, and when you turn to the counter megumi isn’t there.

a little later, when he comes back, he’ll be carrying two mugs — matching dogs etched into the ceramic, one black and one white. he’ll put one of them on the edge of the counter, closest to you, and then meet your eyes. give a vague nod towards it, but nothing else. you’ll notice the red tint to his ears, though.

and when you do, a warmth will blossom in your chest, enough to chase away the phantom ache of the winter chill soon to envelop you.

when the little bell of the bookstore jingles its jolly tune, and the door shuts itself as you cross the threshold to leave, megumi lets out a barely audible sigh.

he thinks his heart may be beating just a smidge faster than usual, a little out of rhythm. palms against the counter, he allows his eyes to flutter shut — trying not to acknowledge the heat he feels on his face when he finally begins to process your interaction.

he smooths a hand over his face, skin just a little sweaty. chewing at his bottom lip with two sharp teeth.

god.

really, it was no more than a stupid twist of luck. that you happened to come in just when he started reading it, that you noticed and didn’t question him on any of the contents. that you believed him when he said he’d already finished it.

and, sure, maybe he was secretly really hoping you’d come in. really hoping you’d notice it, that it’d be enough to make you strike up a conversation with him, something, anything.

he happened to see you eyeing it once, that’s all. twice, and then thrice, each on different occasions. tsumiki’s old collection came in handy, rotting on the dusty shelves of her room — although he has no memory of her ever reading it.

(he remembers some, though. remembers her reading a few of them to him, on nights he couldn’t sleep. remembers the soft lull of her voice, how the whole world seemed blanketed by a wool of safety.

he wonders if he’ll ever get to hear it again.)

megumi’s heart feels warm. despite everything.

even though he didn’t even get past the first half of wuthering heights, and has no idea what the hell he’s going to be able to talk to you about. even though he thinks heathcliff is a dick and catherine is a brat, and wishes they could save everyone else the trouble and just talk to a psychiatrist.

even with the cold baring its fangs outside, and the cup of espresso sitting right in front of him, still untouched, made with the store’s shitty coffee machine. even in the ugly sweater gojo forced him into. even though he doesn’t even really know you, not even at all, and still somehow feels certain that you’ll come back with tsumiki’s book in tow.

trust.

megumi thinks it’s a little weird, how just that single overlapping of your gazes when you first stepped in seemed to solidify such an abstract notion. he’s always had a sense of it, though — a sense of goodness. an ability to seek them out, those good people, bubbly and cheerful and so tragically hard not to love.

no matter where he goes, he ends up finding them. like tiny sunflower seeds persisting beneath the winter snow. blooming when spring comes around, in a burst of golden vermillion.

resting his jaw on the heel of his palm, megumi allows himself to wallow in the solitude of the bookstore. tired eyes soaking up the words on the pages he flips through, slowly, utterly at ease. drinking his shitty coffee, trying to ignore the itchy feeling of the sweater on his skin, unable to forget the memory of your stupidly pretty smile.

so pretty he thinks it might just keep him warm, all throughout winter, until you return once more. bringing with you the glimmer of snowflakes on soft skin, and a pleasant fragrance of tea leaves from the cozy shop across the street.

a single sunflower, persisting even through the cold.

megumi smiles. a tiny curl of his chapped lips, while he flips the pages of his book. content in the knowledge that this won’t be the last time he speaks to you.

(now he just needs to read up on some good papers on wuthering heights.)

#im just thinking abt ….. bookstore gumi who goes out of his way to only work the quiet lazy shifts . and all he does is drink coffee n read #so its like his selfcare time and he hates customers n gets annoyed when they come in PHDJD…. acting like he owns the store #but then u come in !! :< n ur presence is just so gentle and soothing . n the more he sees you the prettier u get in his eyes.#so he tries to silently impress u </3 reading ur fave books even if he doesnt like them <//3 cutie #just to be clear if a bookstore employee randomly offers u a cup of coffee Do Not drink it . even if hes hot. stay safe ✌️#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro #megumi x y/n #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x gender neutral reader

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