#BUT it makes me feel nostalgic in good ways so *shrugs*

[princessleechan]

"You're the man!" Chapter 14 (written Chapter)

Masterlist

⚽Chapter tags: MDNI, she’s the man au, revenge au???, cross dressing!reader, reader identifies anything but male, sports au, queer themes, university au, love-whatever the fuck kind of shape, suggestive language, twice girls, melli appearance, and ridiculousness, WRITTEN CHAPTER

⚽Tag list: @90s-belladonna @the-boy-meets-evil @lirtha97 @hipsdofangirl @justineasian @kwanisms @multi-kpop-fanfics @pantumin @wooahaeproductions @mayashu @shuasdraftsalt @lone-lone-ranger @headlockimnida @horanghaezone @haolistic @porridgesblog @jeonjungkaka @luchiet @ujimatchaaa @skzdesi @cheoliehansolie @vlbii @myghobi @sisterofsomeone @joonsytip @gyublues @alltheshineofthestars-blog @randomworker @isabellah29 @savgogh @too-many-kpop-hubands @shingsoluvely @kamabokogonpachro @skittlez-area512 @seccdlurv @chisskaa @mochiteez @theyluvfrankocean @lllucere @thomawifey @middle-of-the-earth @okiedokrie @itsokaytobedumb00 @humankimbap @zezedoesshit @teenyfinds @jeonghansshitester @aaa-sia @heyitz00 @silvsie

Mingyu thought the on-campus sandwich shop had decent sandwiches, but he appreciated the atmosphere even more. The smell of freshly baked bread, bright ripe tomatoes, and spicy mustard seeds was like stepping into a baker’s childhood. The muted sound of the jukebox–stuck on the same five songs since the owners thrifted it–had it’s nostalgic charm. Most importantly, it offered a refuge from his rambling roommates who seemed to suck the oxygen out of any room. It was the epitome of a perfect lunch hour. For peace of mind, he could easily overlook the mediocre sandwiches.

“Dudes, slow down. It’s not going anywhere,” Jeonghan chuckled, watching the 6’2 man-child devour his Italian sub like it was his last meal.

Mingyu barely took the time to chew before swallowing and stuffing his face with more kettle-popped chips. “Are the sandwiches extra fresh today? They seem better than usual.”

“Just you, loser,” Wonwoo replied smugly.

“What’s got you in a good mood?” Soonyoung grinned.

Mingyu shrugged, wiping his mouth with a napkin crumpled in his fist. “Just a good day for me. Is that so bad?”

“You’re ugly when you’re happy,” Wonwoo answered.

Mingyu scoffed, savoring his ice-cold mug of root beer. "Not even you could ruin my lunch," he said, blissfully.

Meanwhile, you bounced on the balls of your feet behind the entrance door, summoning the courage to walk through. Minghao encouraged you from a distance, already inside the restaurant and surveying the floor plan to ensure the plan would unfold smoothly. "You ready, Yeonam?"

"More than ever, Hao."

With a deep breath, you swaggered through the double doors, determined to exude confidence despite the cringe-worthy memories of similar scenes in cheesy teen movies. One foot in front of the other, you enveloped yourself in feigned pride, nodding and pretending to know everyone there. You braved the occasional unreciprocated high-five and fist bump, but you maintained your composure, never dropping your guard.

Mingyu recognized him immediately and, annoyance flickering across his features swiftly slid down the booth as a safety precaution. He grumbled under his breath, irritated at the disruption to what had been a peaceful evening. With a resigned sigh, he hunkered down, his irritation palpable as he covertly monitored the newcomer's movements from the depths of the leather seats.

“What?” Soonyoung asked in concern.

“My roommate’s here, fuck.”

Wonwoo scoffed, “You’re a dick.”

“Rich coming from you–let’s just ignore him, alright? Spread out and make the booth look cramped.”

Reluctantly, the boys complied with Mingyu's request, casting quiet glances your way as you made your rounds, acknowledging you with subtle head nods against the tall friend's better judgment.

You could feel sweat trickling down your back in places it shouldn't, and you quickly averted their gazes, hoping not to unravel the carefully crafted ruse. Then, like clockwork, the plan fell into place. From the depths of the shadows emerged Jeongyeon, striding confidently toward you with purpose. "Yeonam? Is that you, handsome?" she called out, her voice cutting through the ambient noise of the restaurant.

“…What?” Mingyu murmured under his breath.

He and the rest of his teammates let their eyes roam over Jeongyeon as if she were on display, taking in her radiant smile as it illuminated the space around her. They watched her mid-length curls bounce in the fluorescent light, her arms falling naturally over your shoulders as she drew close.

"Still know how to make my knees go weak. I thought I'd never see you again," she beamed, her lips forming a playful pout.

"Jeongyeon," you replied, mustering confidence as you noticed the puzzled expressions on your teammates' faces from across the room, "You're stunning, darling. How have you been?"

Wonwoo has an amazed expression on his face, which followed the rest of his teammates, “did she just say that to Yeonam?”

"How am I? Are you really asking? What else would I be but heartbroken after you, the one and only Yeonam?" She pressed closer, her presence almost invading your personal space, and you found yourself choking on your breath, stunned by her acting. She leaned in further, her body language a masterful portrayal of longing and sorrow, so convincing and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and her voice trembling with emotion, pulling you into the act almost effortlessly.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as her words struck a chord within you. Despite knowing deep down that you hadn't done the things she accused you of, her compelling portrayal left you befuddled as if you were no better than any other man. And this girl was only cutting hair? Get her booked immediately.

“You give me the best sex of my fucking life and you take it away. With how long I was on my knees for you?”

"What…the hell?" Soonyoung exclaimed, his hands flying to his face as if he had just stumbled upon the juiciest gossip to ever hit the tabloids. "What was she doing on her knees?"

“She’s hot as fuck. What the fuck does she see in him?” Mingyu exasperated.

Jeonghan chuckled, “Looks like you do have something to worry about, Mingyu. Better watch your back if he’s around Chae.”

You stroked Jeongyeon’s head, maintaining the charade. “You know I can't be tied down like that, baby girl. You’d be obsessed with me. Just like you are now. Why don't you do what's best for both of us and walk away, flaunting that thang behind you?”

“Thang?” Soonyoung repeated, clearly intrigued.

The pretty girl pretended to cry, sensually caressing the curve of her body and showcasing the 'thang' you happened to mention. It took every ounce of self-control not to burst out laughing. No amount of rehearsal had prepared you for this moment. “You always did love my ass, but it hurts how you’ll never love me!”

She ran off, hands covering her face as she simulated her cry and exited stage. “Beautiful performance,” Minghao praised, giving himself a pat on the back. “You did well out there, Jeongyeon.”

“Women, am I right?” you quiped, your tone laced with a mix of amusement and feigned indifference.

The boys nod in agreement, their murmurs barely audible as they exchange confused glances, their expressions a blend of skepticism and bewilderment. They continue to steal furtive glances at each other, silently questioning the reality of the situation unfolding before them.

Minghao readjusts his earpiece. “Okay girls, you’re up next.”

“Yeonam!”

The group of men swiftly diverted their attention, their eyes drawn to the source of the commotion. Their gazes locked onto two figures, their bubbly energy and tantalizing presence impossible to ignore, as they dashed towards you with an enthusiasm akin to discovering a rare treasure.

Jihyo and Sana latched onto you, their hands firmly gripping your biceps as they leaned in close, their lashes fluttering flirtatiously. "We were just thinking about you," Jihyo giggled, her laughter mingling with Sana's playful demeanor.

“Oh, we were doing more than thinking,” Sana interjected suggestively, grinning ear to ear.

“Girls, girls,” you swung your arms on either of their shoulders. “Without me?”

They squealed, pressing up against you as they gazed in awe. “We still have plenty of energy for you, Yeonam.”

"Lots and lots of energy. We can do what we couldn’t that other night. I can still do the splits, you know," Sana playfully reminded, her voice carrying a mischievous edge as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear but loud enough for anyone with working ears to hear.

Whispers of admiration and curiosity floated through the air amongst the general public, their eyes flickering with intrigue as they watched the scene unfold before them. Some exchanged knowing glances, while others wore expressions respect. Soonyoung, in particular, appeared visibly excited, his grin widening as if he had just stumbled upon a kindred spirit or, perhaps, a lifelong partner in crime. “Yeonam, you dog,” the man egged delightfully.

You clear your throat, before gently shrugging the girls off. “I’ll text you, now go on. Daddy has business to tend to,” you said, your tone firm yet tinged with a hint of amusement, as you motioned for them to continue on their way.

“Yes, daddy,” they both responded in unison, their voices harmonizing before they each planted a kiss on your cheeks and vanished from sight in a matter of moments.

Now, the soccer boys were collectively impressed, their murmurs of admiration, nudging each other and commenting about what just happened, accepting that perhaps this Yeonam was cooler than they expected. However, Mingyu stood apart from the rest, his jaw hanging open in a mix of astonishment and incredulity, his expression a tableau of disbelief. No way did any of this happen, he thought to himself.

"This kid has some serious game," Soonyoung exclaimed, "Didn’t know cuties like Yeonam could pull girls like that. I need to step up my game—Oh hey there, beautiful!"

As his gaze shifted to a girl of model height, Soonyoung couldn't help but notice the impeccable fashion sense she exuded. She was dressed to the nines in the trendiest clothing, accessorized with the most expensive handbag, and exuded an air of effortless elegance that seemed to draw people in. Despite the perpetual frown etched upon her face, her beauty remained intact, and the young, eccentric man couldn't help but think he stood a chance with her.

With a confident nod, Soonyoung leaned over from inside the booth, a charming grin playing at his lips. "If you’re looking for the love of your life, you found him. You can call me Soonyoung."

"Ew. Did you just speak to me?" The girl's disdain was palpable, her tone dripping with condescension.

Soonyoung blinked, caught off guard by her reaction. "Uh…”

“Girls with my face and tits do not look at losers with penises as small as yours,” she snapped.

He let out a light scoff, his words cut off before he could finish. "I don’t know where you’re getting that from, y—"

But she interrupted him with a dismissive gesture, her hand coming up to the center of his face. "Ew. Save it," she retorted sharply. "I’m looking for my boyfriend, Yeonam. Any of you—not you—have a clue?"

Jeonghan snickered, flicking his thumb in your direction. “Is that the right Yeonam?”

Minghao's eyes widened in realization. "Oh, shit."

“Yeonam?” Melli called out in a defiant tone.

“Run, Y/n, run. Before she exposes you!” Minghao urged over the earpiece.

You quickly grabbed an empty tray from a nearby table, using it as a makeshift shield. “Uh, nope!”

“Yeonam!” Melli's voice rang out again, more insistent this time.

“Not me, wrong guy!” You pushed past various customers, putting distance between yourself and Melli. “Get away from me, crazy lady.”

“Yeonam! What are you doing? Are you avoiding me?”

You maneuvered through the crowded tables, desperately searching for something to shield yourself with, offering hurried apologies to every bystander in your path. “Fine! Look, Melli, you’re hot, like smoking hot,” you exclaimed, grabbing a packaged sandwich and hurling it in her direction to ward her off.

“What the fuck? Yeonam!”

You tossed more items at her, replacing your empty tray with a poor server's stack of packages, each one flung with increasing desperation. "You know what else you are? Fucking toxic, and that changes things!"

"Babe, what are you saying?" Melli screamed, deftly dodging all your incoming attacks.

Finally, you seized a heavy box of unknown contents and thrust it into her arms, obscuring her view and readying yourself for the final blow. "I’m saying when my eyes are closed, I see you for what you truly are, which is UGH-LEH! We’re done, girl!"

She dropped the boxes loudly, tears burning in her eyes and fueling her fury as she stormed off without a second glance, leaving a sense of relief flooding through your system. The rest of the building erupted into cheers, hands patting your back and words of encouragement filling the room. You felt an arm tug you along to another table, swept up in the collective energy of the moment.

“Now that is my man. Fuck yeah, Yeonam! Show it how it is!” You're greeted with a radiant smile from Soonyoung, who eagerly invites you to take the seat beside him, making sure there's plenty of space. As you settle in, your other teammates offer nods and smiles in welcome.

Amidst the camaraderie, there was a sense of understanding as most of them applaud your actions, even if they found it a bit exaggerated. They agree that she deserved the treatment for her nasty attitude, and you're grateful for their support, seeing it as a glimmer of hope for a more cohesive team dynamic once you all play together.

However, Mingyu stood out from the rest, his discomfort evident from head to toe, contrasting sharply with the lighthearted banter of the others.

You realize that men were that simple, but it looks like not all men. (Ew)

#svthub #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #seventeen #seventeen smau #seventeen fake texts #seventeen x reader #​plc.smaus💕 #seventeen series #choi seungcheol #yoon jeonghan #joshua hong #wen junhui #kwon soonyoung #lee jihoon #xu minghao #lee seokmin #kim mingyu #boo seungkwan #chwe hansol #nana writes #lee Chan #YTM

[hanafubukki]

Happy Birthday Malleus Draconia 💚💕

Summary: You kidnap Malleus Draconia.

Sebek knew it would be a tiring day when he saw a letter placed on his wardrobe table.

It had decorative little crocodiles and squirrels all over with his name written in your writing.

He could already feel a headache incoming.

He’ll wonder how you snuck into his room to place said letter later, he was more interested in the message you had to say.

“Dear Knight,

Your Lord has been kidnapped. He is mine for the day.

Mwah~

YN”

Sebek rushed out of his room, running to the Diasomnia waiting room where his lord would sit and enjoy tea at this time.

…only to be met with a giggling Lilia and a napping Silver.

“YN!”

“Did you have to tease Sebek?”

“It’s all in good fun Tsunotaro.”

“I see.”

While Malleus ponders your answer, you plopped down right next to him on the couch.

“What does this…kidnapping entail?”

You could tell Malleus was humoring you. He found this whole situation funny and yet intriguing.

“For you? Just sit there look pretty and enjoy all the snacks, games, and movies I have.”

Malleus laughed lowly, “YN, I do have duties to fulfill. I can’t just sit here.”

You shrugged, “One day without work won’t bring down your dorm. Besides, all work and no play make dragons go cranky.”

Malleus laughed freely and you joined him this time, “Is that so? Then I shall join in this activity with you.”

You laid the nearby comforter over you and Malleus before starting your T.V.

It would be a good day; you would make sure of it.

“This warrior does not speak?”

“Kind of. He talks he’s just not voice acted, but he does make sounds when you attack with him.”

“Interesting. A silent and courageous warrior who will save his kingdom and the princess.”

“Reminds you of someone?”

“This Link reminds me of Silver. They share many similar qualities.”

You joked, “Are you the princess then?”

“I am a prince, am I not?” Malleus replied, before softly continuing, “and Silver has saved me, from myself.”

You bumped your shoulder with his, “That’s love for you.”

“Yes, it is.”

“That crocodile and that pirate…”

“Funny, isn’t it?”

“Yes, especially as Kingscholar dressed as one during Halloween.”

“Does the crocodile remind you of Sebek?”

The glint in Malleus' eyes answered your question.

You can only imagine Sebek's reaction if he knew, “Well with the way Sebek is always barking at Leona, I can't blame you for thinking it.”

Ah, you were going to hold this over Sebek's head forever.

“Those fairies should have never been given the child.”

“Yeah…”

“They haven’t properly fed her, even Lilia knew to feed a baby!”

“Yeah.”

“She almost fell off the cliff!”

“I know. They suck.”

You tugged at Malleus’ hair, “At least she had someone to take care of her, two of them in fact.”

Malleus calmed down knowing exactly to whom you referred, “Yes, those days were filled with laughter and warmth even amidst the chaos. How…nostalgic.”

Malleus leaned towards you; a mischievous glint in his eyes, it reminded you of a certain pink-streaked fae, “Want to hear an embarrassing story grandmother told me about Lilia?”

“Yes! I’m all ears!”

You watched as Tsunotaro enjoyed Toothless and Hiccup's adventures.

You knew he would like this series.

You wondered how Sam had the trilogy.

…you would question him thoroughly later.

You were content to watch Tsunotaro be happy.

His family is never far from his thoughts as he is never far from theirs.

You felt happy to be part of his family.

“YN, is there a reason to why we are making cupcakes this late at night?”

He didn’t know.

You hid your smile as you put the tray of goodies into the oven.

Malleus must have enjoyed his day if he forgot why tonight would be special.

“Anytime is a good time for cupcakes, just like how you can have ice cream even during winter.”

“I thought it was easier for human’s teeth to decay due to late night sugary treats?”

“We’ll be fine! Just make sure to brush your teeth and don’t tell Trey -senpai.”

You went over to the nearby drawer. The confetti poppers were there as planned, just a few more minutes before the time came, so you snuck them into your pocket discreetly.

“Let’s go play more Zelda.”

You and Malleus moved towards the lounge; you eyed the hallway clock on the way.

Less than a minute.

You took out the poppers from your pocket.

“Malleus?”

“Yes?”

You pulled the poppers out just as he entered the ramshackle lounge.

3…2…1

“Happy Birthday (Lord) Malleus!”

Malleus was shocked as confetti rained on him from all sides.

Lilia, Silver, Sebek, and you surrounded him as the day turned over.

His surprised face broke into a wide smile before an unrestrained joyous laughter filled the lounge.

What a beautiful start to today.

The day Malleus Draconia was born.

A day filled with endless love.

Happy Birthday Malleus.

Resounded affectionately in all the hearts of everyone present.

May you always be filled with happiness and love.

Bonus:

Silver came to you as you watch Lilia bear hug Malleus. It was funny how someone so petite wrapped all four limbs on someone so tall.

Silver hesitated.

You knew.

“He baked a cake, didn’t he?”

Silver sighed, “Yes. We tried to stop him.”

You laughed and shook your head.

“It’s okay. Toxic waste it might be, but it is something Lilia made with him in mind. Malleus will love it nonetheless.”

You bumped shoulders with Silver, whispering, “We made cupcakes.”

Silver’s grateful smile had you hugging him.

No one will get food poisoning today, not on your watch.

You hoped.

☺️🌺🌸💚

#twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst x you #twst malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #twst x reader #lilia vanrouge #twst silver #malleus x reader #sebek zigvolt #twst malleus draconia #twisted wonderland x you #silver vanrouge #x reader #twst scenarios #twst drabbles #twst imagines #twst #malleus draconia x yuu #twst x mc #malleus draconia x you #could be platonic or romantic #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland

[cupid-styles]

can you do a blurb about alpha harry freaking out when yn comes to his place smelling like another alpha (she hugged one or bumped into one or something) and being all grumpy and wanting to get rid of it 🤭

oh absolutelyyyyy we love our possessive frat alpha harry!!!! this is on the shorter side but part two will be the mating blurb😙😙

word count: less than 1,000

content warnings: a/o/b content (mentions of knotting/spicy but no smut), harry being jealous and possessive

frat alpha harry concept tag

main masterlist | talk to me

patreon

. . .

Harry wrinkles his nose the second Y/N steps into his bedroom.

"You reek."

It comes out without him even thinking about it, Y/N's jaw immediately dropping as she whips around, a shocked expression on her face.

"Sorry— sorry, that was rude," he mumbles, raising his hand to tug at his messy curls, "It's just— you smell like another alpha. A different one... like, not me."

"You could've stopped at 'another alpha.' I got it then."

He's currently resisting the urge to plug his nose — all he wants to do is throw her over his shoulder and put her in the shower, washing away the fragrance of whoever she'd been around, and scenting her until he couldn't tell who was who. The thought of his omega girl smelling like an alpha that wasn't him made him feel physically sick, bile rising in his throat as the smell continues to permeate his small bedroom.

"Who were you with?" he demands, any attempt at niceties being thrown out the window. It was difficult for him not to get increasingly aggressive the more she stood there, arms crossed over her chest like this whole thing wasn't making Harry sick.

"I told you, I had to work on a group project with some people from my humanities lecture. I just spent, like, three hours in the library with them."

"And were you sitting in a nest of their stuff or something?"

Y/N sends him an annoyed glare, toeing her shoes off in the entry of his room. There's still a decent distance between them, Harry all the way on the other side with an irritated wrinkle formed between his brows.

"Harry, you know I wasn't," she lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand over her face. "I'm exhausted. I don't wanna argue about this, you know it's not my fault."

The genuine response strikes a chord within him and he suddenly feels awful for accusing of her doing anything that would purposely cause her scent to alter. He swallows harshly, trying to push away his natural alpha instincts in favor or apologizing to his girl.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, eyes falling to the carpeted floor. "You're right, it's not your fault. It just... pisses me off."

"I know it does. I'm sorry, too. I could've gone home and showered before I came over."

Harry shrugs, though his heart twitches at the thought of her natural fragrance: sweet and woody, nostalgic and comforting. The only thing he ever wants to smell for the rest of his life.

"But... you know," she says softly, a flirtatious lilt to her voice, "No alpha would even think about getting close to me if I had a pretty bite mark on my neck."

A breathy chuckle leaves Harry. "I know, baby. You deserve more than just a random night in this shitty frat house, though."

"I don't care, though—"

"I know you don't, but I do," he murmurs lowly, taking a step towards her. "You're my mate, yeah? Wanna make it perfect."

He lifts his thumb to pluck at her bottom lip.

"Are you gonna let me make it perfect for you?"

The sentiment makes her feel melty and weak in the knees, so all she's able to do is nod her head slowly. He smiles.

"There's my good omega," he says, and her stomach starts to feel like Jell-O. It's always this way when his voice starts to lower and he speaks to her as if she's the only person in the world. She gets tunnel vision, like he's the sole focus of her attention, and it'll only ever be that way.

"How will you make it perfect?" she manages to whisper out.

"Hmm," he hums, tilting his head slightly as he contemplates her question. "Think I'll take you on a trip somewhere. Maybe somewhere tropical so you can walk around in those pretty bathing suits I know you're dying to wear," she blushes, and it makes him chuckle. "I'll spend the whole day spoiling you. We'll lay out on the beach and I'll put sunscreen all over that perfect body of yours. And when we get tired, I'll carry you back to our room."

Her breath hitches in her throat, the imagery clear as day in her head as he speaks.

"Won't even care if your hair's dirty from the ocean or you have sand everywhere— I'll kiss every inch of your body, hm?" he presses a kiss just below her ear lobe and she shivers. "Stick my tongue in that cute pussy and make you squirt over and over until you're begging for me to mate you. Make sure you cum plenty before I put my cock inside of you and fuck you 'til you're all swollen with my knot."

He catches her ear between his teeth, biting gently. He can smell the arousal slicking in her panties and the warmth radiating from her desperate pussy. "And then... when you're shivering and shaking the way you do, I'll bite you. Make you my pretty fuckin' omega girl with the sweetest bite mark on your neck."

She swallows loudly and he hums, giving her hip a small squeeze.

"Now go take a shower. I need to scent you before I go insane."

#bestie asks #writing #abo harry

[seungkw1]

sketchbook — xmh

♡ pairing: xu minghao x gn!reader ♡ theme: best friends to lovers, college au, fluff ♡ wc: 3.1k ♡ warnings: none

“why did i sign up for this stupid class?”

you mumbled it under your breath, but your best friend still heard it from across the room. he looks up from the book he’s reading, a concerned frown on his face.

“what’s wrong with the class?” he closes his book, his eyes resting on yours.

“the class is fine it’s just… i’m just bad at it.”

“i highly doubt that.” he gets up, joining you at your kitchen table currently cluttered with textbooks, homework, and various drawing materials. he reaches for your sketchpad. “let me see.”

“nuh-uh,” you say, closing the book. he grabs it from you anyway.

“minghao! come on,” you shout at him. he ignores you, flipping through the pages.

“most of those are shitty reject drawings that i started and gave up on, nobody needs to see those.”

he continues perusing through the book quickly, but pauses at a particular page. you take the chance and reach for the sketchpad again, grabbing hold of it.

“wait! i like this one.”

you glance at the drawing he’s looking at. it’s the side profile of a classmate, drawn as a warm-up exercise.

“what? that was just a warm-up sketch, and it’s not even good. it looks nothing like the girl i was drawing.”

minghao looks up at you. “that doesn’t mean it’s bad. art isn’t necessarily about drawing things exactly the way they look, it’s about your interpretation of the subject. that’s like the whole point.”

“i wasn’t interpreting anything here, i was literally just trying to draw her face.”

“but look,” he says, turning the book so you can see it. “look at the way she’s looking into the distance. she looks sad, but in a nostalgic way.”

you stare at the sketch. “i don’t see it.”

“but that’s part of it too - art isn’t always about knowing the exact meaning of the piece, it’s also open to interpretation on the viewer’s perspective. and i like the way you portrayed her emotion.” 

you narrow your eyes at him. “you’re just making that up to make me feel better.”

“i’m not! i promise. i really like your art style, y/n.”

you want to roll your eyes at him, but he looks too sincere. “okay but how can i have an art style if i literally started drawing two weeks ago at the start of the semester? i don’t even know what i’m doing.”

“look at all your drawings though,” he flips the pages one at a time. “you press really hard when you draw, so it gives everything a very bold, sharp look. and combined with the way you shade, it gives it a dramatic edge.”

you look at your sketches again. they’re still unsightly in your eyes, but you do kind of see what he means.

“well, that’s good to know i guess. but it’s still hard,” you mope. “i thought this would be an easy elective to get an A in but now i’m worried.”

“it’s an intro class - i’m sure the professor isn’t expecting you to be picasso on day one. just keep practicing and you’ll be perfectly fine.”

one of the many things you love about minghao: he always knows how to make you feel reassured. 

“you’re probably right,” you reply. “i don’t know what i should draw for practice, though.”

“well, what do you want to improve the most?”

you think for a second. “our next project is a life drawing, but drawing people is so hard. so maybe that but what am i supposed to do, just draw random people?”

“sure, why not?”

“because that’s weird!”

“okay, well it doesn’t have to be a random person. here, try drawing me.”

“you?? right now?”

“yeah.”

you open your mouth to protest, but you pause, realizing it might not be a bad idea. 

you shrug as you reach for your pencils. “okay, i guess. you can't get mad when it turns out terrible though.”

minghao smiles softly. he situates himself in the chair, focusing his gaze off in the distance. you pick up your sketchbook, holding it at a comfortable angle as you hold your pencil above the page. you think for a minute - you never know where to start when you have to draw a face. you glance back up at minghao, skimming across his features - naturally, you land on his eyes. you always forget how pretty they are: dark brown, soft, calm - giving him a permanent aura of being deep in thought. 

you look back down at the blank page, it's emptiness seemingly taunting you. with a sigh you touch the dulled lead tip to the paper, making your first stroke -  the curvature of minghao’s eyelid appearing on the page. you peep back up at your subject. to your surprise, your shape isn't too far off from reality. you continue, sketching his lower eyelid, his iris, his long dark eyelashes. you erase your marks a few times when they don't look quite right, but before long the image of an eye that looks mostly like minghao’s has formed. 

you move to his nose, drawing the line of its sharp bridge, sketching a circle to render its round, button-shaped end - bringing the shape of his face to life. you peer up at his face, your pencil continuing its strokes, but you pause as you arrive at his lips. they are soft, plump, perfectly formed, highly kissable. you sketch the delicate curves, emphasizing their pillowy nature. you find yourself absentmindedly in a trance when you realize you’ve been staring at him for too long - you’ve already finished drawing his mouth. you feel your cheeks turn warm, praying he can’t see you getting flustered out of the corner of his eye. 

you move on, sketching his soft but strong jawline, his ears - adorned with his usual jewelry, adding quick wispy lines to form the shape of his long hair. before long the essence of minghao has materialized in your notebook.

as you finish, you hold your sketchpad up to compare your drawing to your subject. you don’t love it, and it’s nowhere near perfect. but it is decidedly good enough.

“okay, i’m done, i guess.” you set the notebook down, hesitantly sliding it across the table toward minghao. he picks it up, turning it to face him as he looks at it for the first time. the edges of his mouth twitch upward into a subtle smile, but he doesn’t say anything.

“you hate it.”

minghao looks up at you. “what? no, i love it.” he looks back at the paper with a pleased grin. “i’m telling you, you’re really good at portraying emotion.”

“and what emotion exactly did i portray?”

he shows you your drawing. “i look wistful - like i’m caught in a daydream of unrequieted love.”

you feel your stomach do a flip, but you play it cool, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes at him. “well, i didn’t do that on purpose. but i’m glad you like it.” you extend your hand to take back the notebook, but he turns it toward him again, taking another look. 

“can i keep it?” he looks up at you, his striking brown eyes making contact with yours. you stifle a gulp as you reply.

“um… sure, i guess so. if you really want it.”

he gives you a soft smile, pleased at your response. “i really do.” he carefully tears the page along the perforation, separating it from its spiral binding. he closes the sketchbook and hands it back to you. you return it to its place in your backpack.

“well, thanks for letting me practice on you, i appreciate it.”

“of course. if you need any more practice let me know - since i see you most days anyway.”

“you’re the best.”

“i know,” he replies smugly. you pick up your eraser and lob it at him. he manages to catch it with one hand, giving you a sly look as you jump out of your chair, running from him before he can throw it back. he follows you, chasing you around your apartment - you shout at him, feigning anger, but your laughter gives you away. 

another thing you love about minghao: being with him is always so easy.

—

you didn’t mean to make drawing minghao a regular occurrence. but on one particularly crisp fall day, you find yourself absentmindedly sketching his features as you eat lunch together in the park. he’s reading for his literature class, and you’re supposed to be studying for your sociology course, but you keep zoning out. it’s not your fault that the text is dull, and that the cherub-like rosiness coloring his cheeks makes him look more ethereal than usual. renaissance paintings of angels have nothing on how beautiful he looks right now, you think to yourself. 

you also definitely didn’t mean to start falling for your best friend, but here you are.

delicate pencil strokes paint the wisps of his bangs falling over his eyes as he is studiously engrossed in his book, his long eyelashes peeking through the curtain of hair. you focus on perfecting the shape of his face - glancing up to compare your rendering to your subject - when you notice him looking back at you.

“what are you doing?” he asks, genuinely curious.

you’re about to shut your notebook in a panic, when you realize that would only look more suspicious. 

“nothing, just…”

he reaches for your notebook, his fingers brushing over the top of the page as he tilts it down so he can see. he lets out a soft chuckle.

“practicing again, i see,” he says, casually, but clearly teasing you a little. “i thought you were supposed to be studying for your sociology exam.”

“i am,” you insist. he raises his eyebrow at you. “i was just taking a break,” you add. the look on his face tells you he’s not convinced, but he doesn’t press you further.

“it looks good, i can tell you’re getting better at drawing from a reference.”

“i guess it is getting a little easier,” you admit. 

minghao smiles. “good,” he affirms, before going back to his text without another word. 

you find yourself gazing dreamily at the man before you, lost in aimless thoughts, imagining the feel of his hair tangled around your fingers, his skin softly pressed against your cheeks, his lips brushing against yours. eventually he notices, peeking up at you through his bangs. you swiftly return to your drawing, only to realize you've already finished. his portrait looks slightly cartoonish, and nowhere nearly as beautiful as the real thing, but you decide it's not half bad. 

you half-heartedly resume your studies, sneaking glances at minghao here and there. every glimpse makes your heart flutter - you feel like an idiot, you're in college for christ's sake, and here you are having an entire crush on your closest friend. 

just tell him how you feel, part of your mind tries to convince you. 

but what if it ruins our friendship? another part of you worries. 

you realize you're staring at him again when he looks up from his book, his gaze meeting yours. 

“hmm? what is it?” he asks you calmly. 

“i…” 

you hesitate. his eyes rest on your face attentively.

you let out a small sigh. “i’m getting cold. can we go inside?”

he smiles softly, marking his page as he closes his book. “of course.”

minghao walks you to your next class, which is conveniently located in the building next to his next class. 

“well, see ya later,” you tell him as you turn to enter the building. 

“y/n…”

you freeze as he grabs your arm. you turn back around, looking at him expectantly. he lifts his hand up to your head, tenderly reaching for your hair. you realize you're holding your breath. you exhale as his fingers graze your scalp softly, plucking something off of your head. 

he holds a small yellow piece up to you. “you had a leaf in your hair.” 

your panicking ceases, leaving you a bit disappointed, but you can't help but smile at him.

“thanks, minghao. what would i do without you?”

“walk around with leaves in your hair all day, probably.”

you playfully give him a light shove. he reaches for the door, opening it for you as you head off to class. 

“i'm coming over tonight, if that's alright,” he says as you step through the doorway. 

“of course,” you say, turning over your shoulder to face him. “though, i should probably start charging you rent as much as you're at my place.”

he smiles back at you. “see you later, y/n.”

he disappears as the door shuts quickly. you spend the rest of the afternoon in a daydream, impatiently counting the hours until you see him again. 

—

“how’s the studying going?” minghao asks from the other end of the couch. he sets his book down, pausing so he can take his hoodie off. his plain black t-shirt rises up as he does, revealing his entire midriff. you try not to gawk too hard. he stares at you as he tosses the hoodie aside - you realize he is awaiting your response. 

you look down at your notebook, where you’ve once again been sketching his face. “um… pretty good,” you lie. “are you hungry?” you ask, changing the subject.

“starving, actually,” he admits.

“well, i can offer you ramen, or… actually, that’s about it.”

he grins at you. “ramen sounds great. want me to make some-”

“nope,” you respond as you flip your notebook over, setting it face down on the seat next to you. “i got it.” you rise and head to the kitchen. 

you cook the noodles, serving them into two bowls and carrying them back to the living room. you set the bowls on the coffee table, reaching over to set one in front of minghao - but you feel your leg bump against something. you look down to see your notebook fall to the floor - landing right side up. before you can grab it, minghao has already picked it up for you. he goes to hand it back to you, but pauses as he sees your sketches. you go to swipe it out of his hands, but miss as he pulls back, looking at his own face doodled on your pages.

“you were drawing me again.” it wasn’t a question.

you try to quickly think of some excuse, anything, to get you out of this one, but your mind comes up blank. you decide to try and play it off.

“yes,” you reply with feigned confidence as you sit down next to him. he looks up at you, then back down to the paper. you stare at him, waiting for him to say something else, but he says nothing.

“i like to practice whenever i can,” you add with a shrug.

he flips through your notebook. “whenever you can, or whenever you’re with me?”

“um… i-”

“because these all sure look like me, y/n.”

“so?” you ask him. you meant for your tone to be casual, but it came out a bit more defensive than intended.

his eyes meet yours again. he looks at you warmly, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. your heart beats rapidly in your chest. 

“so,” he answers as he sets the notebook aside. “i'm wondering, if…” he scoots closer to you, lifting his hand to your face, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb. your skin feels like it's on fire. his fingers tucked under your chin delicately, he draws your face in toward his. you gasp softly. 

“if you feel the same way about me, as i feel about you.”

your heart is racing. you feel dizzy. he's so close to you, a few more inches and your noses would touch. his plump lips wait enticingly. 

“and how do you feel about me?” you manage to ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. his deep brown eyes stare longingly into yours. you’re pretty sure you know the answer, you hope you know the answer, but you need him to confirm it. 

suddenly, he kisses you. 

he kisses you, setting alight fireworks inside you. his soft lips touch against yours ever so gently, his nose pressing against your cheek, his hand holding your face tenderly in his palm, then sliding to the back of your neck, drawing you closer still into him. your chest presses against his, his other arm wrapping around your waist, his large hand settling upon the small of your back. you kiss him back, your lips locked onto his like your life depends on it. you've thought of this, dreamt of this, so many times before, all the years you've known minghao - yet you never could have imagined how thrilling, exhilarating, freeing it would be to finally be here, in his arms, world stopped, nothing matters except you and him, so lovingly embraced - together. 

electricity pulsates through your skin, every nerve in your body dancing. slowly, minghao’s lips part from yours. you lock eyes with him - in all the time you've known him, he's always been a sentimental person, but you've never seen such love and adoration beaming from him like you see now. 

and it's all for you. 

a giggle escapes you. minghao looks at you, a wide grin spreading across his face. you run your hands through his hair, a sensation you've waited so long to experience - it's every bit as delightful as you imagined. 

“hao…” you start.

he plants another kiss on your lips. “hmm?” he asks, still glowing at you. 

“how long have you felt this way?” you ask softly. 

“i've had feelings for you since the day we met, and i've loved you more every day since.” 

you boop your nose against his, giving him a fake stern look. 

“and why didn't you tell me?”

he feigns a pouty face back at you. “why didn't you tell me?”

you blow a tiny raspberry at him. he smiles, pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he kisses your cheek repeatedly. you laugh, held in his warm embrace, overflowing with emotions. 

finally, you can admit it: you're in love with your best friend - and he just so happens to love you back. 

#ren's fics ੈ♡₊˚•. #xu minghao #minghao fics #minghao fluff #minghao scenarios #minghao imagines #the8 #the8 fics #the8 fluff #the8 scenarios #the8 imagines #svt fics #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen fics #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #minghao x reader #the8 x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader

[comatosebunny09]

Inspired by @sserpente’s The Sunwalker’s Gift.

Imagine being a shopkeeper, selling heirlooms and antiques in a quaint mom-and-pop shop.

Business is incredibly slow. You find yourself flipping through the worn, deckled pages of a book, your chin cradled in your palm. There is nary a customer in sight. Not since that new, mainstream jewelry store popped up down the street.

You’re about to close up shop early to enjoy what’s left of the day—it’s lovely outside. Too pretty to be tucked between these browning walls. But the jangle of the store’s bell lures your attention to the door.

Finally.

You look up as you prepare to greet the store’s newest occupant. But you forget how to talk—forget how to breathe—rooted to the floor like a basilisk has petrified you.

He’s ethereal amid the sunbeams pouring into your tiny store. All wintry-skinned, thin, and tall, dark lenses perched on his sharp nose. Rounded cheeks, petal-pink lips, and foxlike features.

His hair is what entrances you. Swaying like snowflakes in the breeze, and you wonder if it’s as soft as the snow it resembles. Vaguely, you register it sifting through your fingers, smell it exuding the faintest hints of rosemary and firewood.

The stranger surveys your shop, one hand tucked in his pants pocket, the other holding onto an oversized coat. Even his stance is princely. Nothing captures his attention for too long as he peruses through your wares, feigning interest in your rickety things.

You suddenly feel insecure; small—he strikes a picturesque figure amid the dusty antiques lining your shelves. The store across the way would probably suit someone so devastatingly beautiful better.

Nevertheless, you remember how to speak. Square your shoulders, plastering on your most welcoming grin despite your nerves exploding like solar flares beneath your skin.

After smoothing out the wrinkles of your attire, you offer the customer a warm, rehearsed “Welcome!”

He perks up at the sound of your voice. Lips twitch into a half smile, silver brows lifting slightly. Your heart hiccups at the sight.

The stranger saunters towards the counter, carrying with him the scent of bergamot and brushed sage. It’s a homely scent. Somehow nostalgic as he leans towards you, tilting his shades down to ingest you with eyes the color of smoldering coals.

“Good afternoon, love,” he drawls, his accent thick with regality. The purr of it causes your body to flood with warmth. It’s almost dizzying, the ground shifting beneath your feet.

You swallow, your throat thickening with your voice. “What brings you in today?”

“Actually.” He looks thoughtful, a long finger tapping his chin. Suddenly, he snaps his fingers like all the world’s secrets bare themselves to him. “Maybe you can help me with something.”

You watch with bated breath whilst the stranger retrieves something from his coat pocket. It catches in the sunlight. Glints a pretty ruby red as he places it on the display counter with a resounding clack.

“I’ve been trying to part ways with the damned thing for ages. Yet somehow, it always finds its way back to me.” His gaze is far off for the barest of seconds before he replaces it with a nonchalant shrug, waggling his hand dismissively. “It’s long since served its purpose. An antique, if you will. I wondered how much it would go for if it still holds any value.”

He speaks of it so contemptuously. As if it’s been a burden to carry all this time. But it’s beautiful in its simplicity. Tarnished gold, carved with intricate runes you can’t quite decipher. It houses a gorgeous crimson stone that seems to hum and swirl with energy—with power. Perhaps it’s a trick of the light or your nerves causing you to hallucinate.

You’re delicate as you hold it against the sun’s rays, further studying its design. In your peripheral, you capture the stranger’s eyes, regarding you with something you can’t quite place. Disdain? Curiosity? Fondness? Whatever it is, it unnerves you. Makes your mouth fill with sand as you clutch the ring in your palm, intending to scrutinize it some more in the back. It radiates against your flesh despite it being so frigid.

“I’ll have to take a more thorough look at it,” you conclude, masking your shakiness. You muster another smile. “Would you like some tea in the meantime? It may take a while to appraise it properly.”

“No thank you, darling,” replies the fair-skinned stranger, leaning against your counter in an easy slouch. His smirk is back, boasting what you mistake for a fang, peeking through the plushness of his lips. “Never had a taste for the stuff.”

“Coffee your thing?”

“Gods no.”

“Water?”

He waves you off with a quiet scoff, venturing away to prod and examine the other little trinkets in your shop.

“Take all the time you need, love. I’ve nothing but time to spare. And, by the looks of it, so do you.” He eyes you over his shoulder with mirth gracing his countenance. A flash of affection colors his gaze before he busies himself again.

You huff a laugh at his peculiar mannerisms, disappearing behind the curtain of the back room to fetch your jewelers loupe. All the while, your mind swims with wistfulness.

You can't help but feel like the handsome stranger who’d fatefully wandered into your shop is watching you, burrowing deep into your soul, even through the thick veil of your curtain.

masterlist

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion bg3 #astarion x you #past lovers #soulmate au #reincarnated lovers #astarion imagine #astarion drabble

[f1bordeaux]

An Verstappen one with “Did you ever really care about me?” and “Please stay.” Thank you

If You Cared (Part 1) | mv1

It's been years since you've indulged in a vacation. What better time is there than summer? Your family, the beach house in Italy-it seems perfect. But, for things to be just like good old times, your family needs to invite his. So of course you are having mixed feelings as the boy who broke your heart re-enters your life like nothing happened. Warnings: None Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader Word count: 2.1k Poetry style | Story style A/n: Hello! This story came to me as soon as I saw this request. I got so many ideas and I'm actually super excited to keep writing this. There will be more parts to follow, so keep a look out. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! Part One|Part Two|Part Three|Part Four|Part Five

You always longed for the familiarity of summer.

It was by far your favorite season. Something about the warmth, the life, the atmosphere, the memories-something about it all brought you comfort. You were head over heels in love with summer. Or perhaps it was just more exciting this year knowing that you would go on a real vacation for the first time in a long while. “Let’s visit the beach house this year,” your mom had suggested. “Sure there is probably some dust in the corners, but it’s nothing we can't sweep off.”

When thinking of summer memories, the beach house in Elba, Italy, was the primary setting for all of them. From the time you were born until the time you moved out, your family would spend a handful of weeks there, drinking up the sun and inviting friends to visit. You learnt to swim in the pool behind the summer house. You learnt to cook in the kitchen of the summer house. You had your first kiss in the living room of the summer house. Right, that. Something you preferred not to think or talk about.

“Mom!” you wrapped her in a hug the second you could. After moving away from home to pursue work, you rarely saw her in person. You rarely had time to cook yourself dinner let alone come home. It would be nice to get away for a month-just you, your mom, your dad, your brother and sister and the Italian shores of Elba.

“How was your flight, my baby?” She asked, pulling your backpack from off your shoulders.

“Which one? The one from New York to Florence or the one from Florence to Elba?” As a child you always made a fuss about how secluded Elba was. It’s a small, mountainous island off the west coast. A small airport, no larger than the biggest grocery store in town, was all they had to offer. They didn’t take commercial flights from New York. Nope, you had to get on a small, ten person airplane with five other people and fly over that way. It was nostalgic, truly.

Your mom rolled her eyes. “Still dramatic as ever.”

You shrugged, a smile stamped on your face. “What can I say?”

“Let's go, your dad is at home making dinner. It should be ready when we arrive.”

Your heart felt so full, so satisfied. You felt like a child again, like a little girl viewing the world from innocent eyes. Your mom was carrying your backpack, your dad was making dinner. You wondered if they’d offer to tuck you in at night. This is what you needed the most, and you didn’t even realize it until you were in the passenger seat of your mom’s rental car, watching the coast of the island roll by in the dimming sun. New York was busy. It was loud and dirty. Elba was quiet. It was beautiful and clean.

This summer, you told yourself. I’m not going to have a single worry, not a single care in the world.

“The Verstappen’s are coming by next week.”

You almost choked on your food. “What did he just say?” Dinner on the patio was already off to a ravishing start.

You don't notice it-too busy dabbing the corner of your mouth with a napkin-but your mother swatted at your brother who held a smirk on his lips. He knew it would bother you and he also knew that mom hadn’t told you yet. He loved being the bearer of bad news. He loved pestering his older sister.

“You know, Max’s family?” He pushed on. “The boy who left you for cars-”

“Luca.” Your mom cut him off. “Enough.”

Silence hung over the table like it was a light fixture. Your dad and sister said nothing and you knew it was because those two were in favor of the Verstappen’s coming to stay. Hell, your dad was probably the one to extend the invitation. You knew your sister would back him up because she loved Victoria-the younger sibling of the two Verstappen children. Your brother obviously didn’t care. He idolized Max and his racing. It seemed like your mother was the only one on your side.

“Was nobody going to tell me until Max knocked on our front door one day?” You asked, cutting at the food on your plate.

“Max probably won't even be able to make it,” your mother tries to reassure you. “The only ones who have confirmed it are Sophie and Victoria. Ooh-Victoria is bringing the babies so that should be fun-”

“Are you just trying to calm me down, mom?” Again, the silence made itself known. You spoke first, shaking your head with an upside down smile. “You know what? I don’t care. Max or not, I’m here to have a good summer. No childhood crush or-”

“Childhood boyfriend who broke your heart.” Your brother corrected you. You kicked him from under the table, exerting an ouch from him.

“No childhood drama is going to interfere.” You finished.

“She's gone crazy.” Your sister whispered to your dad. You kicked her too.

“I’m going to have a good summer. Nobody will ruin that for me.”

And in the beginning, you did have a good summer. You spent your first full day in Elba catching up on jet lag. When you finally decided to roll out of bed at two pm, you went to the beach with your sister. The two of you had a chance to catch up, sitting on the sand with a small array of fruits to eat while you spoke. The weather was perfect, the ocean was calming, and you were reminded of how much you loved your younger sister.

“What did you do for the big twenty-two?” You asked, referencing her birthday that had preceded about three weeks prior.

She shook her hand, the grapes in her palm shifting. She picked out a bruised one, adding it to a small pile of other undesirable fruits. “Went out with some friends. I had an exam due that day though, so most of it was spent in my room working on that.”

College. Something you tried your hardest to avoid. All was futile, though. After only a few weeks in New York you realized you’d need it. “Sounds fun. Were you mad you had to leave all your friends for the summer?”

“No,” She popped a grape in her mouth. “I was excited to come back to the beach house.”

“Me too.”

“Can I start a conversation without you getting mad at me, y/n?”

You sighed. “If you start by saying that, then no.”

“How are you going to react if Max really does show up on Monday?”

It was your turn to search through the handful of strawberries you had. One strawberry had a large hole. The rest looked fine, you thought. Max. Right, that's where the conversation was. Max Verstappen. Your first crush, your first kiss, your first-boyfriend? Was it ever that? Really, you didn’t know what it was and what it wasn’t. He was Max, and you were y/n. That was all the facts you knew surrounding the two of you.

“I’ll be nice. I have no reason not to be.” You finally responded.

Your sister peeled her sunglasses off her face. She looked at you amusingly through her brow. “No reason? Really?”

A shrug lifted your shoulders. “What? Max and I were never dating.”

“Sixteen-year-old you would say otherwise.”

“Sixteen year old me was delusional.” You looked at the ocean in front of you. You were just a delusional child, right? Max was your first kiss. Max was your biggest crush. Max did break your heart. It’s pretty damn hard to break someone's heart when you’re not together, no? “I don’t care about Max anymore. If he comes, he comes. If he doesn’t? Then so be it. I really don't care, Mia.”

“Alright,” She said dismissively. “I guess we’ll find out.”

The two of you wouldn’t find out for another five days. During your time-waiting for the possible arrival of Max and his mom and sister-you explored the city, you occupied the beaches, you read some books, you went out on the boat with your brother and dad. Life was calm. There were no obligations you had to fill, no tasks at hand, no work to be done. It was you, the Italian sun, the ocean and the breeze. You seriously considered moving there. Mom would let you have the beach house, right? How could she say no to the oldest?

All was good. All was calm.

“Max is here, y/n!” Luca swung open the patio door, yelling at you with a smirk. You were lying on a lounge chair next to your sister-the both of you only wearing swimsuits as you tried to tan. “He’s a fine specimen.”

You picked up your hat from the ground and threw it at your teenage brother. “Fuck off, Luca.”

“I’m serious! Max, Victoria and Sophie are here.”

You looked over at your sister. “Go inspect.” You instructed her.

She groaned, standing up from her chair and wandering inside, not before slapping Luca on the back of the head, however. The two of them shut the door, a waft of cold air swiping across your body before disappearing. There was soft music playing from a speaker near the pool. If a car pulled up, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it. Maybe they were here, but was Max seriously with them? Did you want him here? Would it actually be easier without him here or did you want some fun this summer? Did drama entertain you? Maybe you just wanted something nice to look at while you were here.

The back door slid open. You were lying face down, the sun warming your back. You didn’t bother looking up, assuming it was Mia coming to deliver the news to you. It would be better if she didn’t see your face while telling you. Maybe you would be disappointed at the answer-whatever it may be. “Well? Is he here?” You asked, voice muffled by the lounge chair.

“Is this your hat?”

You looked up so quickly that you pulled a muscle in your neck. “Fuck.” You whispered to yourself, rubbing your fingers over the pain. Did you curse to yourself because Max was standing right infront of you, your ball cap balancing off his index finger, or because of the pain? Both, you decided. It was for both reasons.

“I’ll leave it,” He set it on the table next to you. “Here.”

“Thanks.” You readjusted yourself, sitting up on the edge of the chair. He definitely got a much better view of you than he was hoping for. You were older now, almost by ten years. Sixteen year old you and twenty five year old you looked a lot different. He figured that out pretty quick.

“Good to see you, y/n.” He smiled before turning on his heel to go back inside. His back was broad, his shoulders looked stiff. He had some stubble, but it suited him. He looked-good? No. Stop thinking like that. He probably had a girlfriend or something. He was a rich, famous, Formula One driver. No way he was single walking around looking like that.

“Right.” Nobody was around to hear you say it. So, nobody was around to hear you follow it up with, “What the fuck.”

Hesitantly, you picked up your ball cap, slipping your ponytail through the back. You walked inside, scanning the room before making any more steps forward. Mia and Victoria were in the living room. Sure enough, Victoria had brought her two children and husband. Mia was emitting plenty of ‘aww’s’ and ‘that is so cute’s’. Max was bringing luggage in through the front door. Great, they're planning on staying. Your brother shot you a smirk from where he sat at the kitchen bar. Told ya’ so.

“Max, how’d you manage time off from F1?” Your mother asked.

“It’s summer break,” He said matter-of-factly. “I don’t race again until late August.”

“So you’ll be here for the three weeks you mother and sister will be?”

Please say no, please say no, please say- “I plan to, yes.”

The sliding door snaps behind you as you let go of it. Everyone turns to look at your bikini clad figure. Victoria exchanges a concerning glance with your sister. Victoria’s husband looks at her, confused as to why there is such a thick tension in the air.

“Y/n, go shower and get dressed, we’re all going to dinner in a bit.” Your mother said, her lips pressing into a thin smile.

“Right.” You said, weaving past all the bodies. “I’ll go do that.”

Oh what a summer this was playing out to be.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 requests #f1 imagine #formula 1 #max verstappen #verstappen #mv1 #verstappen fanfic #verstappen ff #f1 x reader #verstappen x reader #mv1 x reader #Max Verstappen x reader #f1 series #f1 smut #Verstappen smut #max verstappen smut

[rreskk]

HEADCANONS: Fem!reader in a relationship with the Holy Trinity

MICHAEL DE SANTA – - “Ah, I’m sorry honey. The movies on.” His love language depends on how much quality time interferes with his own interests. While it may seem neglecting, you’ll come to understand that he’s in his own world. And he makes up by gifting you presents – unwanted or not – trying to reamend the many times he’s bailed on dates, etc. - He may have been a charming man at first, but being in a relationship with Michael really highlights his unfamiliarity with intimacy and connection. He’ll find it hard to communicate his wants due to that barrier between short-term desire and long-term love. You’re usually the one to make a move and give him a foundation to build his trust on. - Michael loves to be glamoured with your compliments and praises. One time he bought a new suit and showed you. After commenting on how handsome he looked, it encouraged him to dive deeper, attempting to drink and eat healthier products but also wear more fitting outfits. You make him look more presentable as you provide support and comfort. - He is a father! When dating a father, here comes responsibilities like parenting advice, and what NOT to say. You’ve experienced how dysfunctional he is. Michael knows he’s a troubling father and he listens to your advice – to an extent. He’ll mostly always add a little twist that completely destroys the meaning of your words, but it’s the consideration that counts. And maybe the tearfulness of his children after. And you annoyance because he dismissed your advice. But hey, that’s Michael! - “You’re dating a movie producer, honey.” Michael will always find a way to be prideful. In all cases where you find a flaw, he’ll shrug it off by mentioning how successful he is (in these flaws), making it sound like a good thing by paradox-ing whatever the hell he’s done – whether that’s criminality or being a selfish ass. -Surprisingly vanilla in the bedroom department. The typical rose petals on the bed and his infamous boxer shorts for when sexy time does occur. Though vanilla, it’s charming because it’s Michael. It’s more bonding he focusses on. Because he’s a bit estranged romantically, he tries to ensure sexual activity is maintained. - He invites you into this nostalgic journey. Allowing him to reminisce really brightens his mood. Even more if you engage and ask questions. It may boost his ego, but he’ll assume you are genuinely interested. - Out of the trio, due to his maturity (even that?) and experience, he’s the most likely to keep you out of the criminality, and so he should! Michael protects you from any dangers and will seclude you from his own issues.

TREVOR PHILIPS – - “What do you mean you were busy?” The most clingiest. He’s very dependant when you earn his trust. Everything has to be outwardly expressed, whether that’s a doctors appointment or Jerry from down the road talking about his heater breaking. Trevor won’t even be interested but he’ll feel safe knowing due to his trust issues. You may get interrogated a lot when you forget to tell him certain things, but if you apologise MEANINGFULLY, he’ll forgive you. Maybe… (The grudge stays there though). - He does carry this intense aura around him and it gets a bit uncomfortable. Trevor has got something constantly making him angry or sad, so you’ll have to deal with this baggage, even if that’s listening to him rant or holding him – as requested. It’s better to say nothing because if you try and be rational, he’ll assume you are devaluing his feelings. - “Why are you closing the door? Leave it open. Ain’t no one here except me.” Trevor does not understand privacy and boundaries. You could be going to the bathroom or wanting time to yourself and he’ll demand you leave the door open. For no reason. He just like hearing you shuffle around. It makes him feel less alone and more safe. However, it can be annoying for you since you are forced to deal with his smell and intensive clinginess. - Very touchy and physical. Trevor has a high sex-drive and will crave bedroom time A LOT. From quickies to a passionate 3 session afternoon which leaves you both gasping for water and the bible. He does make you feel loved though. Not an inch of your skin has been left cold. He has touched you all. One way or another… - Unfortunately includes you in his drama a lot. Trevor doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut, let alone his impulses. And he gets into situations all the time. You are either a target of revenge or a cover-up. No in between. SOS babe, you’re in some trouble.

FRANKLIN CLINTON – - He treasures normality out of them all. Franklin craves a normal relationship where you do your own thing, and he does too. Independence is key. However, sometimes you’ll wonder why he hasn’t messaged in days after he left the house last Tuesday. It can strain a bit of your relationship as you don’t share much details about your everyday life, so you have no idea about the activities he gets up to. Vise versa. - “You need a ride out?” Franklin is also observant though. He sees you getting ready and offers you a ride. He sees you looking for something, offers to look. He sees you frustrated, he offers a solution. Despite being the youngest, he’s got a heart of gold towards  the people he loves. - You don’t have to prove your self-worth by being sexually active. Franklin is open-minded enough to understand boundaries and feelings. Just because you’re distant that day doesn’t mean you hate him, and he knows that. Just because you haven’t been sexually active in the past month doesn’t mean you hate him, he knows that too. - Franklin tries to keep you out of his business but sometimes information slips. He can trust the wrong people and get into some trouble, causing you to be a target of revenge. He tries to be private but he’ll talk to people he’ll deem “trustworthy”, and sometimes they can be the wrong people. - Takes you out a lot in dates. You’ll visit new diners, movies, bars, discos. Whatever. Franklin loves quality time and will ensure you are taken out every week. That’s how he bonds. You can share memories and moments together, whether that’s funny memories or romantic, or maybe sad. He finds value in everything. - The people he surround himself with can strain the relationship. Criminals and gangsters. He’ll invite strange people home and you’ll have to deal with their antiques. Franklin shrugs it off as it’s “business”, but you’ll always find the strangers invading your personal space and privacy. Dangerous strangers as well. It puts you on edge.

#grand theft auto 5 #trevor philips #gta v #grand theft 5 #grand theft auto #trevor gta #grand theft auto v #gta 5 #trevor philips/reader #trevor philips x reader #trevor philips fanfiction #trevor philips/you #trevor philips headcanons #trevorphilips #michael townley/reader #michael de santa x reader #michael de santa #michael de santa/reader #michael de santa fanfiction #franklin clinton x reader #franklin clinton fanfiction #franklin clinton #franklinclinton #franklin clinton/reader #franklin clinton headcanons #my fanfic writing #my fanfic #my fanfiction #my headcanons

[lynxindisguise]

*sniffs air* is that... pisces season?!? wishing the happiest of birthdays to the dampest of them all @spindrifters! the boys are dressing appropriately for the occasion...

"Happy Valentine's Day, Moons."

The box is deceptively non-threatening: plain cardboard tied with gold ribbon. But Sirius has that all too familiar glint in his eyes, the one that once meant they'd be spending the evening in detention.

Lips pressed together, Remus holds his husband's gaze as he opens the box—slowly, just in case something jumps out at him.

Inside is a simple, olive green corset. Soft, sturdy suede with delicate embroidery along the edges. "Not really your style, is it?"

"No." Sirius smirks. "It's yours. It's for you."

"You want me to wear this?"

"Desperately."

Remus sighs, suddenly nostalgic for the year he was gifted 'moon' themed boxers. "That isn't a present, Pads; that's torture."

"Oh, just try it."

"What's it going to suck in? My ribs?"

"It'll be good for your posture."

"My posture?" He cracks a grin. "Made you wear corsets in your Pureblood etiquette classes, did they?"

Ignoring his question, Sirius removes the corset from the box and sets about loosening the laces for him. "Take off your jumper."

Resigned to his fate, he peels off his jumper with far less enthusiasm than he was hoping would be the case tonight.

He's left winded just from yanking the corset over his shoulders. Sirius tuts and gently pulls it the rest of the way down for him.

"As a proud member of the working class, I thought you'd appreciate a front-lace one. I can still help lace you up though... if you like..." His fingers run teasingly up his front, toying with the laces.

"Not too tight," Remus grumbles. "I'll get light-headed."

"Don't worry; we'll get you a fainting couch."

His scowl gives way to a gasp as Sirius tugs, exposing a bit more give at his belly than he was expecting. Those elegant fingers work their way up slowly, reverently, lips pouted in concentration. The strange intimacy of it momentarily distracts him from the way his spine is straightening, shoulders rolling back.

"Moony!" Sirius exclaims as he ties off the laces in a perfect bow. "Are you actually taller than me? Are those shoulders I see?"

He rolls his eyes and hunches instinctively—or he tries to, but the corset doesn't allow it.

"I'm not taking the piss," Sirius insists. "You look so fucking fit, Moons. Makes me want to fuck you in a haystack or something. Come look at yourself."

Sirius drags him to the mirror—a place he generally ignores.

It isn’t horrible. His shoulders and chest do look broader, creating the illusion of a v-shape. And the colour suits him, and he supposes, on the whole, he feels rather… pretty. It's a silly thought, even sillier for inciting a prickle behind his eyes.

“Knew you’d like it,” Sirius says, annoyingly smug.

“It’s alright.” He shrugs. “Do you want me to wear this tonight, then?”

“No, keep it on.”

Sometimes he forgets that he married a madman. “I’m not wearing this to dinner.”

“Wear your jumper over it.” Sirius hands him back his jumper, and he knows there’s no arguing it.

He consults the mirror to see how ridiculous he looks, only to find that he simply seems more… erect. Confident, even.

“Oh will you just admit you like it?”

“It’s… surprisingly comfortable,” he concedes.

Sirius snorts. “I’ll get you a prettier one for your birthday. One with little bows and lace maybe. Or shiny teal one. Make you feel like a... sexy grindylow.”

“A sexy grindylow.”

“Yes.”

“You want to fuck a sexy grindylow?”

“I mean…” Sirius laces their fingers together, teeth grazing his lower lip. "Do you think Jeff would go for it?"

Remus shakes his head, desperately jostling away the image of Sirius and his grindylow godfather before plucking a kiss from his lips.

Sirius beams, gorgeous and glowing. "Happy Valentine's Day, Remus."

"Happy Valentine's Day, love. Are you ready for your present now?"

And well, Sirius isn't the only one with a telling glint of mischief in his eyes.

His husband arches a knowing brow. "Am I?"

He struggles to keep a straight face as he hands him the box, watching the first crackle of laughter cross Sirius's face as he opens it.

They both break as he lifts the collar—red with gold spikes—from the box, doubling over at the sight of the heart-shaped tag bearing Remus's contact information.

"I hate you," Sirius wheezes, wiping tears from the crinkled corners of his eyes.

"I love you too, darling." He smirks. "Do you need help putting it on?"

#wishing a very merry zomas to you all #wolfstar #lace him up #zo tag

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

I Cherish You, Halcyon Days: i.

“You’re gonna die, kid. In the worst way possible.”

tags: afab!reader (she/her), angst, slow burn

pairing: gojou x reader + onesided!getou x reader

summary: You’re 15 years old when you’re told you’re going to die. You’re 17 years old when you realize who your killer will be. And you’re 17 years old when you make peace with the fact you wouldn’t want it any other way.

index | previous chapter | next chapter

"[First]... [First]. Hey wake up!"

You blink blearily, just barely catching your chin with your palm. "Sorry," you mumble, closing your eyes once more. You open them once more when Shoko raps her knuckles against your desk again. "'m still kinda out of it."

Yours was the start to a very trying day.

First and foremost, you overslept and missed breakfast.

You were still tired.

And most irritating of all, you had a headache ー you forgot to drink water before and after going to bed, sue you.

While you're still cognizant, you whip out your phone to text your friends. What a waste, you sigh. There aren't any missions to go on today either. Originally your plan was to head out once classes were over for the day and meet up with your non-sorcerer friends in the city. Eat at Johnny's, maybe go to an arcade and watch a movie with the money you had leftover. With how you're feeling presently though, you much preferred laying down and immediately going to sleep. "This sucks," you fail to fight back on a yawn. "I wanted to see what's been going on with everybody from my old school too." You yawn again.

Me: I'm not gonna be able to make it, sorry. Can we meet up another time instead? Have fun without me (T^T)

Chinatsu: aww that sucks. Do you think you'll be free next weekend? We can do something for your birthday!

Your smile is small yet doubtful as you text back an 'I promised my aunt that I'd visit her next weekend to celebrate so it might be a while til then.'

If there's one simultaneous benefit and drawback to attending Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, it's that your schedule is sporadic enough that you it's never consistent what you might be doing on a day-to-day basis let alone week-to-week. Some mornings you'll find out classes are canceled for the next few days and other times you think you're home free to bullshit for the weekend only for Fujioka-sensei to pop up and say you and Shoko have a mission that'll take up the entirety of your free time. As far as your old friends from Tsubame High were concerned though, you somehow got yourself a scholarship for a bigshot religious school with a limited number of students and hellish expectations for said students.

"Look at [First] getting herself into some fancy rich kid private school," Tooru said when you broke the news to your friends you'd known since middle school that you'd be transferring to Tokyo Jujutsu Tech.

Chinatsu: Look at [First], not having too much time for the little people!

"It's pretty unusual for you to sleep in," Shoko's comment brings you out of your nostalgic stupor.

Me: Yeah who are you again?

"Yeah, I know," once you quickly type in your reply, you finally shove your phone back into your pants pocket. If there's a definitive benefit to attending Tokyo Tech, it's the customizable uniforms. You went for the boys uniform at this particular school. It felt like it would be the most practical decision when you'd be running around fighting cursed spirits. And with it being fall, the winter solstice being a couple weeks away, wearing pants felt like the best long term investment you could have come up with. Not to mention, you looked good in it. "It's not like I had any trouble getting to sleep though."

"Bad dream?"

"I don't know I can't remember it," you shrugged trying to recall whatever it was you were dreaming about. It's all hazy, not even the most significant parts scratching at your brain coming through the fog. "I don't think it was bad though. Maybe it was about my husband. I'm still mad they killed off his character in Anaconda 2 last year, can you believe that shit? He was the finest dude in the movie!" When you hear a snicker coming from your right, you shoot a glare towards the culprit with snowy white hair. "Like Inoue Waka even knows who you are, please shut up."

"At least my celebrity crush lives in my country," Gojou snickers back with a shit-eating grin. "Running into Morris Chestnut in Japan? Doesn't seem all that likely. Ah the delusions of young children."

"You are literally only two days older than me, you are making this way too big a deal."

Although Suguru releases a breath of exasperation, there's a smile gracing his features. "Well you can't be that tired if the two of you can bicker like this. Just try not to tear each other apart next week when the party hits. It's your special day after all."

Ah yes, the party. The brilliant idea that the first and second year teachers, Fujioka and Yaga, came up with on the fly yesterday on December 1st.

When you were told that there was a small number of students at this school, you didn't realize how little there would be going in. Among the first year students, you're quite literally only one of four. The previous second year student, Okita, died two months ago leaving the current number of second year students at 0. There's quite literally only two third year students in Utahime and Mei Mei. And as for 4th year students, there is only one ー Yamada.

The ratio of non-jujutsu sorcerer to sorcerer was shockingly out of balanced if there were only seven students at your school. Because of that, the teachers made sure to celebrate every student's birthday. A party, cake, presents, the whole shebang. No class, no missions. Just a day of setting up the dorms for a party while the one turning a year older had to either leave campus and wander around until it was time for their party, or sit around doing nothing around campus until someone came to get them.

It wasn't too long ago when you were all celebrating Shoko's birthday on the 27th of last month.

It was her party with her cake and her presents.

But you? The teachers had a special idea in mind for you. Because in a school of seven students where two of them were born within days of each other, why have two separate parties when you could make it one and cheapen the cost?

One party with one cake and a mixture of presents for you both to tear open at the same time.

Gojou is December 7th.

You're December 9th.

They'll just celebrate both on the 8th and call it a day.

When it came down to it, you understood the principle behind the plan. You could even get behind it. It's just that if somewhere to ask if you liked Gojou Satoru, your answer would be an irrevocable 'no'.

Hell, you'd answer 'no' even if no one did ask.

Gojou Satoru is impossible for you to like from his stupid sunglasses to his shit-eating grins. Even worse is his arrogance. Because apparently, there's no one in the world of jujutsu you were scouted into that didn't know who Gojou Satoru is. Born merely two days before you, Gojou Satoru's birth changed the state of the jujutsu world. "He's basically like the jujutsu sorcerer version of Jesus," Shoko explained when you asked why everyone seemingly made a big deal over him.

I don't like him at all.

You're the odd man out in your class, though, you begrudgingly force yourself to accept all over again during lunch. Despite your less than stellar review of the boy, Suguru and Shoko got along just fine with him.

Gojou had always been obnoxious about the fact you were born a couple days after him when you found out you shared a month of birth. It is just that with your birthdays being right around the corner of next week, he is being especially intolerable. He even came to wake you up this morning when you overslept, forcing Gojou Satoru and his blue eyes that were partially obscured by his sunglasses to be the first thing you saw that morning. Clearly a premonition that today was going to be a mess when he all but sang "morning, junior, you're gonna be late to class at this rate!"

By the gods, I wanna punch him so much. I don't care if he's Jujutsu Jesus, he just thinks he's hot shit because he has blue eyes.

At the very least, you can rest easy in knowing the fact that the feelings of dislike are mutual.

Gojou Satoru is strong, it's an irrefutable fact no matter how much you'd like to deny it. He's strong and in turn, the strong are the only ones Gojou respects. You apparently don't make the cut.

And that's fine. Strength came in all sorts of ways. (An argument the two of you have already had with one another where Suguru said you both would just have to agree to disagree.) You disliked Gojou Satoru but you could live with the fact that, at the very least, you were going to be stuck together for four years. Because even if he was strong, life sometimes paid you back with small moments of grace where someone put the golden boy of the Gojou Clan in his place.

"Just so you know, Takamatsu Akira is visiting again," Shoko's voice pulls you back into the present.

You raise an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name, "never heard of 'em."

"He's a sorcerer that can see glimpses of a person's future when he looks at them," Suguru answers in her stead over a sip of his oi ocha. "He's apparently at the school today for some sort of meeting."

"Hands off the goods," your eyes widen in amazement as you quickly smack away Gojou's hand from your lunch. "Really? And it's all accurate too?"

"He's a major asshole, though," the white-haired boy hisses with a pout. You roll your eyes. I'm not sure how reliable your words are if you of all people are calling someone an asshole. Your incredulousness must show on your face because Gojou's next words are, "seriously! He only tells people he thinks have interesting futures anything about it."

"And?"

"Satoru's just mad because apparently his future isn't interesting," Suguru smirks, smugly welcoming his best friend's unamused side eye. "He told me about mine though."

You bite back a snort when your curiosity to know Suguru's fortune wins. "What did he say about it?"

Suguru touched his chin thoughtfully, recalling back the day he met the seer. "He said that one day I'll be stuck at a crossroads between two paths and make a life changing decision," he pauses dramatically and you lean forward in anticipation. "That's all he told me though."

Damn it.

The brown-eyed boy chuckles but he shoots you a look of amused sympathy, "he never really tells you too much about it apparently. I was disappointed too."

"Did he ever tell you anything about your future, Shoko?" You ask your class' resident slacker.

Shoko shook her head, bob gently moving with her. "I'm one of the boring ones too," she says with a lazy wave of her hand. "Like Gojou."

"Don't worry, my friends," Suguru places a hand over his chest and bows with far too much grace and humility. "I alone will shoulder the burden of having an interesting future. Unlike Satoru."

You choke, unable to stop yourself from chortling this time. Whatever Gojou sputters in his self-defense, you don't hear it over the sound of your own laughter. "Maybe he'll tell me about my future too," you sigh when your giggles subside. You sincerely doubt it, but it's fun to think about the possibilities. I want an interesting life plot twist, like the reveal I'm actually a long-lost member of some royal family he just won't tell me which one.

"He'll probably stop by because you're here," Shoko rests her chin on her palm. You were the newest in your class, starting a month later than the rest. "He likes seeing if new students will have interesting futures ahead of them."

"Don't get too excited, [First]," Gojou quickly rains on your parade with a lot of arrogance for someone whose future is apparently so boring a seer won't even talk to him about it. "I'm the most interesting person in this place and he won't even talk to me. So who knows what sort of reaction you'll get."

"Oh quit being bitter that your future is gonna be boring, asshole," before any other quips and gripes can be exchanged, the class door slides open abruptly. You look over with a start, wondering if it's your teacher when you see it isn't. The man is a bit younger than Yaga but his hair is already graying and his eyes are a deep green reminiscent of pine trees. You have a feeling you already know who it is and grin. "You wouldn't happen to be Takamatsu Akira, would you? Gojou here was telling me about his boring future soー" you stop yourself with a shudder when you blinked and realized that man was in front of your face and much too close for comfort.

"Now that is something," the man blinks owlishly, eyes almost glowing in his amazement.

Your discomfort flies away faster than a seagull with someone else's lunch, "really?"

The man leans back with a grin and a snap of his fingers, "really, really."

With that you look at Gojou and stick out your tongue and he sticks his tongue in return.

[First] 1, Gojou 0.

Suguru chuckles and Shoko grins and all the while, Gojou flicks your forehead too quickly for you to react. "Look, hater, it isn't my fault that your future's boring, quit trying to rain on my parade," you snicker, batting your eyelashes. "Mr. Takamatsu, I'd really appreciate it if you could tell me about my future if you don't mind. Before the naysayers get more butthurt than they already are."

"You're gonna die, kid."

With four words, your blood freezes and you find yourself blinking once, twice slowly. It's the matching looks of shock and surprise on your classmates' faces that tells you you heard Takamatsu correctly. Stiffly, you look back at the seer hoping for that revelation to be nothing but a joke, but instead you find yourself looking at a maniacal grin. That grin feels more like a knife in your gut. "In the worst way possible."

The knife sinks deeper into your flesh, twisting.

"Hey," out of the four of you, Gojou is the one who finds his voice first.

Takamatsu ignores the boy with snow white hair as if he's nothing but a minor breeze, "But," he beams like he's only told you that he found a discount at the convenience store. "Because I like you so much, I'll let you ask three questions about it."

"O-okay," you stammer almost instinctively. Like a zombie, you find yourself stumbling onto your feet and Takamatsu nods at the door. These answers will be for you and you alone. You aren't sure what expression you wear on your face as you exit, nor the expressions of your peers. You can't bring yourself to look at them as you follow the future-seeing sorcerer into the halls of your school.

I'm going to die.

I'm going to die.

In the worst way possible.

It's only once you're relatively alone that the seer halts his walking in the middle of the hall to look at you. "Feel free to ask your questions," he tells you. "Your classmates shouldn't be able to hear, even if they keep looking out the door. So ask away," he reassures you, waving his hand nonchalantly.

You glance to your left and sure enough there are three heads leaning out of the door, staring straight at you both. You can't bring yourself to smile reassuringly before you return your gaze to the sorcerer in front of you.

Three questions.

Your first question can only be so obvious. "Howー how do I die?"

Takamatsu's amusement is sapped from his face at that question. "Really?" He yawns with a shake of his head. "That's what you're going to ask? That's quite boring."

Boring? Boring?! It's my life! "Yeah but-"

"You know what, fine," Takamatsu sighs, crossing his arms. He recalls his vision in his mind for a moment before he opens his lips. "You're going to be killed by someone precious to you. Ask me something more… riveting this time."

You blink slowly.

You're going to be killed by someone you care about.

When do I die?

Was it an accident?

On purpose?

Why would they want to kill me?

You don't think those are questions Takamatsu will find intriguing in the slightest. In a panic, you ask the most original question that enters your brain. "Do I die… angry at them?" No. Fucking. Shit, me. "Wait, that was dumb don't answer th-"

"Nope, it counts," Takamatsu clicks his tongue. Maybe it's payback for your first question being so predictable and unoriginal. "And my answer for that is no. Your heart will surprisingly bear no anger towards the person who kills you." A revelation that shakes you to the core. "Well, one question left to go, kid. No more mess ups, I'll take it even if it's something as a dumb as a repeat question."

"Okay, okay," you exhale nervously, biting your lip. I need to think.

You know yourself.

You're selfish at times, who isn't? If it really came down to it though, you know you'd always put someone else's life over your own. You can talk big, you can snort when you watch a movie and say 'yeah sorry, they'd be stuck on their own. I'm not dying in a situation like that, I'd wanna go home'. But you know yourself enough to know that despite thinking it, your feet would inevitably turn towards the other person. Maybe you'd die in the end but you know you'd try your damnedest to get them out.

Why else would you put yourself on the line fighting curses?

Curses were scary.

You'd seen them you're entire life, unable to explain why or what they are to the people around you. Some were tall, some were small and some were so grotesquely horrifying that it made Sadako and Freddy Kreuger look like kittens. Being able to literally shield yourself from them were a saving grace when Rejection came in. Those curses didn't attack often, no they mostly just hung about before choosing some random poor soul to haunt. You just didn't want one touching you or your parents.

Things got a bit better when they sent you to Japan for the summer with your aunt. Apparently that's what happens when you live in a country with a more stable and organized force of jujutsu sorcery. Or maybe it was, begrudgingly, because living in the home court of Jujutsu Jesus kept some curses from wilding out the way they did in your home country.

Either way, your parents relented when you begged for them to let you continue living in Japan with your aunt.

That's how you were prepared for the night your class' test of courage went to shit when a curse showed up and miraculously kept the list of mortal casualties at zero.

But I'd like to think that in a life or death fight where it's me or them, I'd choose me. You shake your head pushing the thought to the side. You almost forgot the most important detail. Your killer will be someone who matters to you. But I won't be mad about it. If it was life or death, I'd choose me. I know that. Stranger on the street or a lifelong sworn enemy. And I know if I was killed by someone I apparently care about, I'd definitely be bitter about it. I'm not that forgiving.

Future you isn't in agreement. Your eyes turn to the ground.

Is it a life or death fight situation or an accident? You open your mouth briefly before closing it again.

They're precious to me.

They're someone I care about.

But I won't be angry.

I mustn't have been trying that hard then, you wet your lips as a light bulb flickers deeply in the recesses of your mind. You couldn't have been. How else could your future self's lack of anger be justified? One day, there will be someone you care for so greatly that even in a life or death battle, you'd still choose them.

You raise your head to look into dark green eyes dancing with amusement, a grin accompanying them. The grin morphs from clear to distorted at the welling of tears in your eyes. I wasn't trying. "I must really love this person, don't I?"

Takamatsu's grin grows even wider, eyes flashing in pleasant surprise. "Yeah," he leans against the wall, crossing his arms. "It seems like you do."

Tears roll down your cheeks like streams into a river yet your arms hang loosely at your side. "That's three questions then," you murmur, throat constricting. You inhale slowly, hold your breath and release before wiping your eyes. "Thank you for answering my questions, Mr. Takamatsu. Lunch is gonna be over soon, so I'm gonna go finish eating now."

You bow before turning on your heel back to your class, your classmates are still there. You don't really care to receive their pity or empathy.

"I'm gonna die, it's gonna suck and that's all he really told me," you say before anyone can ask.

It's hours after classes have ended for the day and you're cooking in the communal kitchen when you see Gojou again.

"Hey," Gojou says and his tone is so serious it startles you. You set your knife down on the cutting board before looking at him. His face doesn't seem right to you and it dawns on you a second later it's because he's frowning and it's not the usual childish frown you're used to seeing. "Don't take what that guy said seriously. Like I said, he's an asshole. He was probably saying all of that to freak you out." There's a pause and Gojou scratches the back of his head, looking uncomfortable in his skin. "So don't, like, cry about it. Takamatsu's a prick."

"Are you," you squint, looking Gojou over suspiciously. "Trying to make me feel better or something in your own weird Gojou way?"

"Someone has to make sure you aren't drowning in their sorrows," Gojou returns to his usual brand of cocky, with a grin. His sunglasses slide down, revealing playful eyes.

"I don't want the comfort then," you roll your eyes and return to chopping your vegetables. "Besides, I don't need it anyways, I'm strong."

"Eeeeh."

Asshole.

"We had this argument before that there's different kinds of strong, you jackass," you argue for argument's sake knowing it's a moot point to argue with someone who vehemently believes otherwise. Apparently he thinks belief in philosophical kinds of strongs is how the weak comfort themselves.

You vaguely notice that in spite of your annoyance, your shoulders aren't stiff and your jaw is loose. Apparently Gojou is good for something, after all. "Strong looks different for different people. A kid is strong when they act tough after tripping. A grown man crying and being open with his emotions is strong," you recount some of the ways you've seen people be strong in your life. You've witnessed strength in various ways in your 15 years of living. "… Even just living despite how hard it can be is strong. But it's whatever, I already know you think that's a load of self-comforting weak crap, don't feel like arguing about it."

Save for the sound of you cutting green celery and the light simmer of the pan, silence falls over the two of you.

"What did you guys talk about when he said you could ask him questions?" Gojou finally asks.

"… nothing important," you mutter back.

ー

When you wake up at 4:30 in the morning the next day, knowing full well there was going to be physical education that day, you decide to ditch class.

index | previous chapter | next chapter

Extra

In the oneshot I somehow fucked up the timeline by one year. In reality, Gojou was a 1st year in 2005 not 2004.

Also, in the oneshot I said the reader was the baby of the class. I was wrong again. Suguru was actually born in '90, not '89, like I originally assumed. Thus, he's actually the baby of the class. So I removed all mentions of the reader being the class baby. Still, you're younger than Gojou by two days so he is still rather insufferable about that, much to your chagrin.

Compared to the oneshot, now that there is more extended time to look into such things, there will be dives into the reader's non-sorcerer origins, family and friends. I would like to note that the reader isn't from Japan originally in terms of her nationality, but that will be covered in future chapters. Regardless, the reader is ethnically ambiguous for the self-insert convenience!

#look she's writing #jjk x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #getou x reader #geto x reader #i cherish you halcyon days

[kaepop-trash]

I want to know how jaehyun in no time to blame would feel like if he knew she was with someone else? Without knowing it was johnny? Is this too weird to ask?😬

Ask: "What is Jaehyun and y/n's "relationship" like?"

Where the Light Is

Not to weird at all. I love unexpected questions like this because they make me think about characters in a way I wouldn't usually. As a result, I see them in a new light. Always fun so ask whatever you want! I loved writing this. Their relationship is like an old song you can go back to, one that always sound like the first time when you listen to it after years. It's having someone understanding you without needing the right words.

_

Summary: Jaehyun goes to his first party since returning. (Y/N) is trying to piece together her entire life. Who understands that better than someone who had to pull their own life apart?

Warnings: Suggestive sexual content, existential breakdown, kissing

WC: 4.9k

_

Jaehyun walked into Taeyong's apartment, looking behind him to check who was at this little gathering.

"Who are you looking for?" Taeyong asked, following Jaehyun's wandering gaze.

"No one in particular." Jaehyun spoke, distracted by his keen search.

"Johnny isn't here." Taeyong warned him. "He's still in Scotland. Just go talk to your other friends." Taeyong gave him a pointed look.

Jaehyun swallowed, giving Taeyong a nod. Catching up with his other friends was something Jaehyun had every intention of doing. But every time he had the opportunity, his nerves interrupted his efforts. 

Everybody around him had their own spaces here; it was Jaehyun who didn't belong. The stories they shared, the knowing looks, and especially the nostalgic nods were all memories made after Jaehyun ceased to be a part of their lives. He wasn't bitter about it. He just didn't want to intrude.

But Taeyong had that look in his eyes that spelt determination. So Jaehyun dutifully followed.

Everywhere he looked, he could see at least one familiar face. Yet none of their eyes wandered like his. They were satisfied in the conversations they were engaged in.

"Make yourself a drink." Taeyong's voice caught his attention again, hand pointed at a table with an array of liquor bottles. "All of us are dying to know what you've been doing all these years. Don't be a stranger, Jaehyun." He squeezed his shoulder, gesturing at someone behind him. 

When Jaehyun turned, Irene, Yeri and Taeil waved. Taeil made space on the sofa beside him and beckoned. Jaehyun's reciprocal smile was one of sentimental surprise.

"Why is it that you've been here for five days and I'm only just getting to speak to you?" Irene asked, crossing her arms and giving him a frown.

Jaehyun smiled, his relief coming off as sheepish. "Every time I've seen you, you've been busy talking to other people." He shrugged.

"At least come up with better excuses." She rolled her eyes, taking the spot beside Jaehyun and shoving his shoulders, "How have you been?" She asked with a kinder voice.

The question made Jaehyun's stomach churn because, while he had a ready-made answer for the question for years, this was the first time that he wasn't sure.

"I've been good." He lied, nodding his head. "Busy." It was the truth, "But this trip is a nice excuse to relax and smell the roses."

"There will be plenty to smell at the wedding. The theme is pink and blue roses." Yeri smiled, making Jaehyun mirror it.

"They stole my favourite motif. Don’t even get me started on my restaurant’s decor." Taeyong pointed at the couple in question. Everybody laughed as the conversation dissolved into talks of how seriously Taeil was taking the wedding planning.

Amongst the teasing and the laughs, it was easy for Jaehyun to get lost in the past. He remembered it all in that one moment. The wet chill of the common room in the resident's hall where they used to hang out. The halls of the undergraduate business building, patterned with sunlight coming through the window. The smell of stale beer at the dingy bar where they would all hang out. The same place (Y/N) broke up with him despite them never being together.

The last memory jolted him out of his galvanised nostalgia. He looked around the room like he remembered an important task, trying his best not to be very apparent. But when his eyes finally found what they were seeking, his brows knit.

(Y/N) sat by herself in the opposite corner of the room. She was nursing a beer in her hand, lost to some deep thought with her gaze lowered. 

Jaehyun wondered what she was thinking about; why she had isolated herself this way, and why it looked like she was missing something. He stared at (Y/N) long enough that it caught Taeil's attention. 

Jaehyun had fallen out of the habit of keeping his feelings to himself, it seemed. He wondered if certain habits were best left in the past.

"Oh don't worry about (Y/N)." Taeil laughed, "She must have had a long day at work so she's quiet." He reassured Jaehyun, no doubt having had this conversation with someone before. “ She only came because I insisted. Just like you.” He laughed. 

Taeil didn't know that Jaehyun didn't need to be told.

"Yeah, the only person she'll talk to when she's this tired is Johnny." Yeri smiled, sharing a look with her friends. Jaehyun's eyes remained on (Y/N), thinking back to the past as he did more and more recently.

He knew too well about her reclusive tendencies. When drunk or tired, (Y/N) became all too cautious of what she'd say. For Jaehyun it was never a problem. Neither of them ever needed to talk in each other's company because words weren't needed in whatever they had shared. In his company, she had been as comfortable as Jaehyun was in hers.

She looked around the room once, reaching into her back pocket as she did so. Jaehyun’s breath hitched in anticipation, but she looked down at her phone before her eyes landed on him.

"Oh she's smiling." Yeri laughed, "Must be texting to her mystery man." She giggled, earning a gentle shove from Irene.

"Who?" Jaehyun asked too quick, not even noticing the strange look he got from his friends.

"I don't know his name, Johnny might. But she caved and told us about it once." Her shoulders rose in pride.

"Yes, in confidence. Don't go around telling people about her personal business." Irene chastised Yeri, giving Jaehyun an apologetic smile but still keeping a cautious hand on Yeri's back.

"It's just Jaehyun." Yeri countered but then sighed, "But you're right." She grimaced.

There was an undertone to the exchange that Jaehyun didn't catch. He couldn't have possibly because just as (Y/N) looked away from her phone, his own buzzed in his pocket. Even as the idea of this mystery person started to sprout in the back of his mind, his current focus was on this moment.

She texted him. He was the person she was texting with the smile on her face that made their friends speculate. 

At that moment, he was the mystery man.

"I'm going to go eat something." Jaehyun announced to nobody in particular after what felt like an appropriate gap. He stopped up and immediately got his phone out of his pocket, heart beating incredibly fast.

🖂 Are you coming for Taeil's party? 🖂

Jaehyun grinned, amused by the question.

🖂 How many beers have you had? Look up.🖂

Jaehyun couldn't help the tug at his chest when she looked up. Her eyes full of anticipation was enough to make him feel a little weak in the knees still— just like the first time. When their eyes met, he was back in the basement of the record store off campus.

"Oh." She said as realisation coloured her eyes, followed by a wash of pink on her cheeks. "I didn't see you."

"It's a good thing. Now I know that you were missing me." He bit the inside of his cheeks as he felt his neck getting warm.

Her lips tugged at the corner, "How much did you hate saying that?"

"A lot." He admitted, squeezing his eyes shut as he shoved his clenched fists into his pockets. "But I still like it."

"You're bolder than I remember." She noted.

Jaehyun's eyes flew open, the next words slipping out before he could even think them through. "And you're more beautiful."

None of them spoke for a moment. Out of habit, Jaehyun wondered if he overstepped. Then he heard (Y/N) take a sharp breath.

Head falling back, she burst into laughter. The sound bubbled up effervescently and popped against his ears till they tickled.

"You're crazy." She shook her head, cheeks flushing nonetheless. "When did you come?" She leaned over in her chair, resting her head against her knuckles.

"Just a while back. I was just catching up with Taeil and the rest. I was going to get some food when you texted." He shrugged, his words distracted. Despite being present in the moment, a corner of his mind stayed distracted as Jaehyun kept playing with the idea of sitting down beside her or maintaining the facade of acquaintanceship they had always had in public.

"Good. They've really missed you. There has never been a gathering where you and your whereabouts weren't brought up. I know everything that has happened in your life since you left." She scoffed, looking away from him and taking a swig at her beer.

"Oh, I wish I had the same. I've only heard a few things here and there. I knew nothing about you."

"You could have asked." She looked back, something quick flashing passed her eyes before she shook it off.

"Johnny told me to stop asking about you last year.” Jaehyun shuffled, deciding against sitting down. “He was right, of course, so I stopped. I did hear about your job though." He grinned.

"Don't." She interjected, "We don't have to talk about my job."

The curt request caught him off guard, but he respected the boundary, giving her a nod. She closed up for a beat, and Jaehyun wondered what he said. 

After a few moments of chewing her bottom lip, she looked up at him.

"Do you remember Diana from our eco class?" She asked, clearing her throat. Jaehyun nodded, and a conspiratorial smile lit her features. "She's marrying that TA."

"See I knew there was no way that Diana, of all people, was topping our class." Jaehyun clapped his hands together, practically spilling his drink.

"Leaving you as the second." (Y/N) teased, grinning when Jaehyun's nostrils flared.

"Clearly not!" He huffed before realising that he was getting riled up over something from more than half a decade ago. "Don't laugh! It was the only class I was second in." He poured.

"My condolences." She bit the corner of her cheek, mischief colouring her eyes. His gaze fell on the movement like water flowed downhill, gravity always working against him.

"Didn't you say you wanted food?" She questioned. Jaehyun nodded. "So?" She added.

"I want this more." Again his words spilled out. Like they were being pulled into her orbit.

Her lips parted. An effect of the shock from his words. But it did nothing to help his state. Heat spread from his neck to the tips of his ears.

"I think I might need a snack, actually." He pointed an accusatory gaze at the glass in his hand, a false premise. Her lips tugged at the corner. 

"Try the pigs in a blanket." She gave him a confident nod. Before he could ask she sat back with a concluding slap to her thigh, "See you later." She promised with a wave, eyes returning to her phone. 

Those were one of his favourite words to hear from her.

(Y/N) felt lighter after the interaction, a smile still lingering. But her mind kept going back to what he said. Johnny had told Jaehyun to stop asking about her. She could point out the exact moment it had probably happened, too— the night Irene and Taeil announced their engagement.

She fell into the past, thinking of that day like she tended to do a lot more lately. Everything seemed to have changed so much since then, yet it still felt the same. Like her life was passing by while she remained in place.

After several moments she broke out of her thoughts. Jaehyun had already moved on, eyeing the spread of snacks. Having two restauranteurs in the group meant that all gatherings had the promise of great food. Yet she waited to see if he'd pick hers.

His pout rested on his nose as he surveyed the limitless food options. Finally, landing his eyes on something made him smile as he picked it up.

(Y/N) buried her beating heart and looked down to see that his food of choice had been pigs in a blanket. His eyes fluttered, lips tugging only slightly at the edges to make his dimples dig in: he liked it. The realisation made her heart emerge from its hole with a renewed flair. 

Right now, she felt like nothing had changed at all.

__

Jaehyun stopped walking back to Taeil when he spotted Jaemin picking up a beer. He’d grown so much since he last saw him that Jaehyun had to squint to make sure that it was actually him.

“How have you been?” Jaehyun questioned once he was sure. Jaemin looked up, eyes colouring with the same recognition that reminded Jaehyun of his elder sister.

“Oh wow. I heard you were back.” Jaemin gave him a funny smile, looking Jaehyun over. “Success is a good look on you.” He noted, raising his bottle to him.

Jaehyun felt himself blush, the odd compliment strangely poignant. He mumbled a quick thanks, and Jaemin grinned with amusement.

“I heard you and your roommates started a company together? I guess I should take notes on success from you.” Jaehyun remembered.

Jaemin laughed, “Who told you that?”

“Johnny.” Jaehyun shrugged, “I didn’t know who else I could ask.”

“Ah.” Jaemin scoffed. “That is the only bridge you didn’t burn after all.”

“I had almost forgotten how harsh you can be.” Jaehyun winced, trying to hide the pang from the words with a laugh.

“I’m just honest.” Jaemin just shrugged.

“How have you been?” Jaehyun asked.

“Surviving. Life’s good now, so I’m making the most of it.” Jaemin frowned when Jaehyun laughed hard, “What?”

“I missed that ‘living in the moment’ energy (Y/N) and you have.” Jaehyun shook his head, “I envy it so much.” Taking a sip of his own drink, Jaehyun chewed on his bottom lip.

“What is it? What do you want to ask?” Jaemin said with a knowing look on his face.

Jaehyun smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he considered his words. Like his sister, Jaemin was also perceptive. As embarrassed as he felt by it, the itching in his throat won over. 

He cleared his throat, "Your sister is with someone?"Jaehyun tried not to give away his inner turmoil. But nothing ever hid from the boy in front of him.

Jaemin just nodded.

“Serious?” Jaehyun asked, holding back his sigh when Jaemin shook his head.

"Old habits die hard." He shrugged, turning to (Y/N) with some thought weighing on his mind.

"Who is he?" Jaehyun couldn't help himself.

"Some dude."

Jaehyun winced playfully, taking the hint in Jaemin's clipped tone. "Will you take her home?" He changed the topic.

Jaemin considered it momentarily, looking his sister over before turning to Jaehyun with a sigh. 

"No, I have to take that one home." He pointed behind him, turning his head towards his roommate, Renjun. “He’s in a worse state.”

"Oh." Jaehyun responded.

"You can do it." Jaemin told him.

"Old habits." Jaehyun mused before realising he had spoken out loud. "Who is this guy?" He couldn't help himself; Jaehyun was sure that if anybody knew who it was, it would be Jaemin.

"Someone she met at a grocery store." Jaemin scoffed. "You know that you can't bribe me with iced coffee anymore, right? You want to know so bad, just go ask (Y/N)."

"It doesn't matter." Jaehyun kicked the ground, his shoe squeaking.

"Sure." Jaemin said, taking a step back from Jaehyun.

"Is he nice? Good to her?" Jaehyun asked, not sure what answer he was hoping for. 

"You would like him." Jaemin answered with incredible confident, taking a deep sigh after. "I'm going to give you some advice because I never would have graduated without your caffeine sponsorship." Jaemin put a hand on Jaehyun's sagging shoulder. "You're afraid of the wrong things, Jaehyun."

Jaehyun's brows furrowed, lips parting to ask for clarification. But Jaemin was already walking off, always as elusive as his sibling.

"I'm trusting you to take my sister home safely." He waved with his parting words, going up to his roommate with a gentler smile.

When Jaehyun looked around, (Y/N) stood before the food. From the distance and the safety of solitude, Jaehyun got his first good look at her. He took in the slump of her shoulders, the glazed apathy in her eyes for the first time as well. She let out a deep, defeated sigh that quivered her bottom lip. 

Jaehyun frowned.

He thought about how she had stuck to the corner all evening, how her younger brother was keeping a watchful eye on her. He took a look around to see if anybody else thought what he did. But they were all in their space.

When Jaehyun turned back, (Y/N) was speaking to Irene. She gave her an apologetic smile and waved. Irene’s gave her a concerned nod, giving Jaehyun’s speculation credence. Something had to be wrong.

She was leaving and Jaehyun had to follow her. To keep his word to Jaemin. Or so he told Taeyong when he caught his eye.

He called out to her when he saw her walking into the elevator. Instead of stopping, she rushed inside.

He had to wait for the elevator to come back, tapping his foot against the metal edge on the floor. The moment he stepped out into the lobby, he searched for her. He found her sitting at one of the large sofas the excessively lavish lobby had, trying to exhaust his look of relief before approaching.

"Waiting for someone?" Jaehyun asked. She looked up with wide eyed shock.

"Oh." She said once she registered his presence, "My Uber."

"Leaving so soon?" He tried to play off the curiosity, shuffling up to her slowly.

"Yeah, I'm just tired. Long day at work. I feel like I was being an eyesore just moping in the corner." She scoffed, finger tapping on her phone screen.

"The only time you can be an eyesore is in absence." He played the words off as a joke. To his surprise her brows furrowed, eyes darkening in the shadow.

"Did you want anything?" She asked curtly, detaching her gaze from his.

"Jaemin told me to drop you home." Jaehyun shrugged.

"I can drop myself home. I'm not that drunk." Her lips pursed in a displeased frown.

"Nothing to do with alcohol. I just told him I would." He shrugged again, his disposition always edging on awkward— especially when having to voice his intentions like this.

"You can go tell him I said no." She shrugged back. Jaehyun wondered if she was mocking him.

"What's wrong? Why did you run from me when I called out to you upstairs?" This time Jaehyun frowned, feeling unsure again.

Her nose flared for a moment, clearly losing her patience. In the next moment she sighed. 

"I've had a long day, Jaehyun. Just leave me alone." She slumped back into the chair.

"Talk to me about it."

"I'll call you when I get home. I'll call Jaemin too, I'll be safe." She urged, tapping her nails against the side of her phone.

"Talk to me." Jaehyun insisted, sitting down on the chair opposite her.

She gave him an incredulous look, at the same time surprised and irritated by his persistence, "Why?"

"Because I want to listen."

Jaehyun expected her to spit harsher words at him. Instead she sat back, groaning as her eyes welled up.

“I just. I love everyone in that room." She sighed, pausing to consider her words. "I know they know that. I know they love me too." A tear slipped down her. "I just." She looked up, blinking rapidly like it would stop her emotions from spilling out.

She groaned again, still debating with her thoughts and fighting something inside her.

"This is dumb Jaehyun." She groaned, "It's a stupid feeling that will pass. Just go back upstairs. I'll be fine tomorrow." She looked away from him.

"I know that. I also know that you aren't fine now. Who am I going to tell? Who cares if it's stupid?" He sounded so gentle, her eyes welled up a little more.

"I hate my life." She spoke the words with the force of a colossal damn cracking open, "Everybody makes more money than me, happier than me and I feel like I'm frozen in a glass aquarium watching them go by around me." She rushed through the words, groaning right after.

"I thought I'd be happy by now." She continued after a restless pause, "And there are things that should make me feel that way. I thought this new job would make me happier.” She took in a breath that made a tremble rake through her, “But all I see is how nothing is right.”

She squeezed her eyes, her tears flowing unchecked now. Rubbing her cheeks with the back of her hand was futile, but she kept doing it until they looked sore. Jaehyun wanted to reach out to stop it, but it felt like an intrusive thing to do while she let out her words.

“Ever since I moved out of home, everything has felt like a mistake.” Her voice faltered, “I feel like I'm living a borrowed life, you know? But it's mine. And that scares me. There are too many things I've taken without considering. I got the apartment that I think I should want. I hate my job, but I wanted it so bad.” She sat up, giving him a look that begged for understanding. 

“I break myself into a billion pieces everyday hoping that one day it'll all just be dust. Then finally I'll be able to mould myself anew. But these days I feel like I am just blowing away in the wind." She stomped a foot on the ground, groaning again.

She turned to face him, eyes rimmed red and lips quivering. "What am I doing wrong, Jaehyun?" She asked so honestly, both of them wishing he had the answer she seeked.

Jaehyun's heart tugged, her dilemma at the same time familiar and entirely different. He got up from his chair to sit beside her, taking her hands in his.

"There is no right way to do this, you know? Life's not a recipe. You can’t put the right ingridient at the right time and bake it at the right temperature for the right time." He finally reached out, gently wiping her tears with his thumb.

"That's easy for you to say. You did everything right, and now you have it all." Her lips quivered some more, fresh tears escaping her eyes.

Jaehyun wished she would have said anything else. The words sliced his chest open and left him at a loss.

"Quit your job first. That's the easiest one to solve." He spoke after a moment, trying to gather himself.

She look at him like he burned her, wrapping her arms around her waist to distance herself from the reckless ease of his words. But Jaehyun cupped her cheeks in both hands to keep her eyes on his. And his eyes weren't dismissive at all.

"It's not that simple." She whispered, "What if I change it all again and it’s still the same? What if I let this life go too and it still doesn't feel right?"

The words stirred Jaehyun's heart, knowing that this was something he had real advice to give about.

"I know, I get it. You're scared. You're scared because you hate uncertainty and you don't like things to change. I know that. I know you.” He reassured her, wiping more of her tears away. 

“But you can't just continue living a life you hate. Or more importantly one that makes you hate yourself." He pushed the hair that was sticking to her wet cheeks away, "Your brother doesn't need your sacrifices anymore, (Y/N). Live your life, look for something better. I'll help you look. But you need to decide you want to accept that change first. Otherwise it will truly never feel right."

"Jaehyun." She sighed, trying to get away from his hold. But his hands were as resolute as his words.

"I'll help you look for a better job. Hell, I'll help you find what you really want to do. You deserve that." He nodded, trying to get her to agree. “You deserve to do something you love. Not just work to feed yourself.”

"Why would I deserve your help after everything?" She breathed the words out, light as a feather. At that moment, both of them were back in that college bar, the smell of cheap beer and young dreams breaking around them.

"You deserve good things, (Y/N). I don't know when you decide otherwise and what made you think so. But everybody deserves good things. And you," He smiled, squeezing her cheeks, "You deserve the best.” 

He laughed when her lips squeezed between her cheeks, “You're kind and you have so much love. You work hard and you've always done more than you need to. I've seen it all." His voice was full of confidence. She didn't speak but her eyes bleeded distrust, at his words— at herself 

"You deserve more than you'll ever feel you do. You might not believe that, but I do. I believe in you."

"I don't think I've ever worked hard, Jaehyun." Her eyes glittered with tears, " The biggest reason I hate my life is because I know I can't blame anyone but myself for it."

Jaehyun frowned but still looked over her face with careful grace. "You don't remember it like I do. I've seen you. You are the person I think about when I need motivation."

(Y/N)'s heart hammered so hard that her breath started to stutter. Under his tender gaze, with his previous words hanging, it was easy to remember why she was so hopelessly in love with this man. 

"And you're mine." She sighed, nodding like she wanted him to know that she meant it.

His thumb stroked her neck hypnotically while his eyes shifted the way they did when he was trying to form his words. Before he finished dressing them neatly, his eyes shifted behind her.

"I think your uber is here." He spoke, his voice deflating the same way her back did. His hands dropped to her waist just as she turned to see. He was right. Her back deflated a little more.

The warmth of his hands were the reminder of the precipice. She wanted to say so much more to him. But words were never their language.

When she turned back to try anyway, he proved her point. 

Jaehyun’s lips pressed against her with desperate insistence. His fingers dug into her waist and her hands flew to his neck almost immediately. Both with reckless regard. Both, because they didn't know how to accept an end that never came; a change that never felt real.

In this regard Jaehyun was the more honest person, she realised. At least he didn't pretend he'd changed, nor did he ever pretend he was something he was not.

When he pulled away they both came up for air rapidly.

"(Y/N) I–" Jaehyun started, his words thick with the grate of lust and something softer tinting the edges that she didn't recognise.

"The driver isn't going to keep waiting." She paused to take in the way Jaehyun's face shattered, like she needed that last thread of reassurance. "Let's go. We can talk later." She tugged at his arm, sliding her hand down further to hold his.

_

The sound of something shattering was the only thing to break their kiss since she slammed her door. 

Jaehyun pulled back, "Shit." He muttered, earning a breathless laugh from her. "Switch on the lights, you might get hurt."

"You're the one standing on the floor." She pointed out, trying to reach for the switch from her perch on the table anyway. With a flick, her living room came into view.

Jaehyun's hands came up to his waist, eyeing the glass bowl he dropped along with the house keys he had tried to shove in while refusing to break their kiss.

He clicked his tongue, "I’m so sorry. Should I—" His gaze met hers, apologetic.

"I'll get it tomorrow." She tugged at her t-shirt. After a moment of honest contemplation, he let her pull him in.

Lips crashed into lips, hands travelling everywhere. It would always that be easy to get lost in the moment like this. For Jaehyun, it was like being thrown into the crashing waves: limbs remembering each stroke and manoeuvre with ease. This was one sea he could never drown in— or so he hoped.

His hands wrapped around her thighs. Losing himself for just a moment, he squeezed the flesh desperately. (Y/N) yelped, sitting back with a start.

“Sorry, sorry.” He hissed, pulling his hands back, cupping her cheeks to check on her.

“I’m fine.” She laughed, bringing her arms up to her neck, “You’re being very handsy today.” She wiggled her brows. “So much bolder than I remember you, Jung Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun’s face flushed a bright crimson and she laughed, the kind of laugh that burst into a million specks and glittered against his vision. She licked her lips, bringing her hands up to wrap over his. She pulled his hands away, bringing them down to her waist. 

“Do it again,” She asked.

He didn’t need to be told twice, squeezing her with intentional force this time to lift her up. “I missed that spark in your eyes. You can do anything you want with that.”

She grabbed his chin in her hand, squeezing his dimples till his pout showed itself. “Right now, I want to do you.” They both laughed as he led her into her room.

“I can never say no to that.” He kissed her eye, kicking the door closed with his foot.

#nct #nct 127 #jaehyun #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun smut #jaehyun drabbles #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenario #jung jaehyun #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fluff #nct angst #nct smut #nct fluff #nct 127 smut #nct 127 angst #nct 127 fluff #ask

[christinarowie332]

Where words fail, music speaks.

chris sturniolo x reader .

guitar chris (kinda)

warnings: suggestive . language . shortish

———

a small smile makes my way onto my face as i hear the muffled strum of guitar strings . my eyes flick away from my phone , squinting at the noise , trying to pick out the melody . a slower version , and slightly off key , but i know it anywhere . babydoll by dom fike . still stuck on that damn song chris ? i peel my body from the sofa , making my way down stairs to chris’s room . as i peek my head through the door , i’m happy to see chris playing the instrument i haven’t saw him with for years . i snap a video of him secretly, before his head lifts up , his tongue still poking out his mouth from concentration. i smile at him as he meets my eyes , a smile that is reciprocated ten folds by a teethy , tongue still out smile as he stops strumming .

“why’d you stop?” i say frowning and making my way into his room , slumping my body next to his on his bed . he angles his body towards mine and tucks one under the other , dropping the acoustic guitar to his lap.

“don’t do well with an audience” he replies, a smile still plastered on his soft features . he brings a hand to my face and tucks a stand of hair behind my ear , his cold and rough fingers from strumming making contact with my neck momentarily. making my breath hitch and sweat ball on my palms .

it was obvious to everybody but myself and chris , that our feelings were more then friendly. he was sweet , and attractive. he always thought of me first and always could read me like a book , he was funny , attentive , soft . it would be hard for any girl not to be head over heels for him . but i became friends with nick first .meeting matt then chris . already having a dynamic with two brothers would be awkward if i started dating the other , so i pushed the thought away. i blaimed my quickening heartbeat on anxiety , my need for his voice and small lingering touches on simple attachment. he was my friend . my closest , very attractive, friend .

“what made u start playing again?” i ask , tilting my head and allowing a small smile to grow onto my features . watching his face contort in thought , his lips puckering slightly as he bites the side of his cheek.

“not sure , found it in the garage and thought i’d see how much i remembered.” he answers shrugging his shoulders. “not much clearly” he adds matching my smile , a thin line as he huffs a laugh from his nose .

“hey! it sounded good chris , play it again. it’s babydoll right ?” i placed a hand to his knee as i spoke , leaning forward to get comfortable on his unmade bed , matching his stance with a leg tucked under the other . chris’s face softens slightly , his lips relax , letting his lips detach from one another as his smile grows , his teeth flashing as his perfect grin makes its way into his face . “who got you into dom huh?” he asks sarcastically, nodding his head upwards as his tongue rolls out his mouth, licking his upward turned bottom lip as he waits for my answer .

“just some kid , really annoying, kept forcing me to play it in my car so eventually i ended up with it stuck in my fucking head” i reply , matching his sarcasm rolling my eyes in dramatics . i feel my cheeks ache from how much i’m smiling. it feels like all i do around christopher is smile . it’s a constant i can always count on , happiness whenever i’m with him . a cold rush makes it’s way into my spine as the nostalgic thoughts of high school runs through my mind . late night drives , falling asleep on his shoulder on his parents sofa . waking up to a blanket draped over my body and a pillow substituted for the warm boy i fell into comforting slumber on .

“y/n?you okay?” im forced out of my thoughts by chris’s words , along with his fingers snapping in my face . i meet his worried face ,eyes never once leaving mine . i inhale a sharp breath and bring myself back into the room , smelling his shampoo and cologne as the cold air hits my nose . “yeah sorry just zoned out a little, stop changing the subject! play!”

he smiles and rolls his eyes at my words , allas bringing the guitar neck up to his chest , placing his fingers over the strings before strumming a chord with the other hand. my face scrunches up at the noise , i can hear what he’s trying to play but something sounds off . “gimme it” i say reaching out for the wooden object , he hands it me with confusion laced in his features . i place the guitar in my lap and grab a tuning peg between my fingers , moving it as i strum the string attached , listening for the right tone . there it is.

“youre playing it right , it was just out of tune chris” i look to him after i finish my sentence, finding his eyes already my face , on my lips . his eyes flick back up to mine as he notices i saw him staring , i gulp as i feel the tension growing slightly. “chris-“ i whisper before the guitar in my lap is moved to the side , the palm of his hand lightly grazing my cheek as his lips attach onto mine . allmost immediately i kiss him back , getting onto my knees and pushing my body onto his as his back meets the mattress. his hands push my hair behind my ears , the cold air kissing my neck at the removal of warmth . i disconnect the kiss to situate myself oh his lap , he leans forward and placing his hands on my back pulling me back into him to reattach our lips again .

my back arches as my body lifts from his lap , the kiss growing heavy with want . no .need . he obviously feels it too as his tongue roams my mouth relentlessly , and his hands following suit , trailing my body hungrily. he finds a place for them on my hips , gripping them as they’re lifted with my moving , my body aching for closeness .

this is a new side of each other neither of us want to forget . and never will

———

the ex music student in me wrote this .

bye .

———

taglist:

@mangosrar @soursturniolo @biimpanicking @kvtie444 @kenzieiskoolaid @cabincorematt @urmyslxt @mattenthusiast @iheart2021chris @recklesssturniolo @lovingsturniolo @loveesiren @daddyslilchickenfingers @paper-crab @strniohoeee @ermdontmindthisaccount @sturnphilia @bluesturniolo333 @lea0518 @chrisolivia4l @oversturn @freshlovehacker @its-jennarose @kitaysworld @liz-stxr @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @lustfulslxt @littlebookworm803

————

i love you all sm 🤍

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #milkie is down bad #sturniolo #milkietalks #snaps from christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo toxic #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagines #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets fanfiction

[watchmegetobsessed]

Harry has been your first ever crush. As your brother’s best friend, it was kind of inevitable to fall into the cliche of yearning after the boy that always hung out in your basement, playing video games with your brother and eating out the fridge. He was practically family. Well, not to you, because you always harboured deeper feelings for him, but you kind of always knew he only saw you as a little sister. with an age gap of four years, he always felt like he was out of your reach, way too old for you.

But the years went by, he went off to college with your brother and you did the same when your time came and suddenly you weren’t a little girl anymore but a 26 years old woman with a buzzing career and a whole new, independent life away from where you grew up.

You were visiting home and it happened to be at the same time your brother did too along with Harry who was still his best mate. Your mom invited him over for dinner and you were nervous to see the boy you were so desperately in love with as a teenager. You put on a nice dress, did your hair and makeup and excitedly waited for him to arrive.

When he walked in it was like all the air got knocked out of your lungs and suddenly you were thirteen again. He had the same smile on his face, a bouquet of flowers in his hands for your mom and he wore a blazer over a button down shirt which felt like an odd outfit for him but he somehow still made it work. His eyes locked on you and it seemed like he was speechless, taking the new, grown you in. Last time he saw you you barely just turned eighteen, you were definitely starting to look more mature then but you were nowhere near your current form.

“Y/N, hi!” he softly greeted you before pulling you into a hug.

Dinner felt like heaven and hell at the same time, because you couldn’t stop staring at Harry, you wanted to ask a million questions but you kept quiet, sipping on some red wine. You played some board games later and talked some more before the boys went down to the basement for some nostalgia and your parents called it a night. You showered and tried to get yourself to bed bout you felt so restless, you went down to the kitchen to make yourself a tea but were met with Harry already putting on the kettle.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked with a cheeky smile as he grabbed a mug for you as well, still moving around the place like it was his home.

“Too much on my mind,” you shrugged.

“Maybe it would be easier if you unloaded some of it,” he suggests, pouring the hot water into the mugs.

“You want to have a heart to heart with me, Styles?” you chuckle as he hands you the mug.

“Only if you want to.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t trust myself around you.”

Your bold answer surprised him as he looked at you over the brim of his mug, analysing your words wildly.

“Did I do something to earn that?” he asked at last.

You shook your head. “No. But I’m feeling very nostalgic right now and I feel like a teenager again. And as a teenager I was madly in love with you.”

You had no idea where this courage was coming from, the flirting, the eye contact, it was all so daring but you couldn’t and didn’t want to hold yourself back.

“Is that so?” he hummed and his face was unreadable.

“Yeah. Surprised?”

“Not entirely. I had a suspicion, but I guess it never registered in my mind.” He took a sip of his tea, his eyes glued to you. “But I guess it hit me in the head when I saw you tonight.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you tilted your head to the side.

“It means that I didn’t see the little girl anymore, just the beautiful woman you are today and for a moment I debated whether you still feel the dame about me or if you’ve moved on.”

Now he was definitely returning the flirting and you liked where it was going. There was a switch in the air that just added more to your confidence as you put your mug down and moved closer to him.

“What would you do if I still felt the same way?”

Harry stared down at you, his eyes lazily wandered down to your lips and then back to your eyes before he answered.

“I would find out how bad you really want me and then show you that I feel the same way.”

You couldn’t tell if you actually moaned or it was just in your head, but you both moved towards each other at the same time, only for the moment and opportunity to be crushed by your own brother who came into the kitchen with heavy steps, making you jump back instantly.

“Alright, I’ll give you a ride home, bud, I’m ready,” he announced, jiggling his car keys before he headed out.

“How long are you staying home?” Harry asked in a rush, pure lust swirling in his eyes.

“Tuesday.”

“Come over tomorrow?” he asked, backing towards the door, but still looking straight into your eyes. You could only nod before he smirked and walked out, leaving you alone in the kitchen with your hammering heart and the realisation that you literally just seduced your brother’s best friend.

#idk what this is #but i just felt like writing it #literally write it on my phone #i never do that #anyways here is this something pls enjoy #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles au #harry styles blurb

[allkordelia]

Rekindle

The festivities that surround you made you anxious, why?, no idea maybe it's because the man you onced called your own was just a few feet away from you talking with his relatives. Daemon Targaryen. The Rogue Prince. The King of the Stepstones. You looked over at them once again admiring the way he stood tall and how his short white hair fell in his face, you have to say as much you like his short you loved his long hair better. Especially, when you used to play with it when you both were younger, you shook your head slighly pushing the sweet memory back before it could consume your mind.

The sound of your name made your turn and see rhaenyra, "We're heading back inside are you still taking me horseback riding." She asked, you notice people walking inside the castle before looking back at her.

"Not at the moment, princess. I'll come found you when I'm ready to take you, okay?" The young girl smiled before walking away, you turned back to the tree the sun felt good making you close your eyes and slighly tilt your head upwards.

"Hi." You opened your eyes turning to see daemon in behind of you.

"Hello, your grace." He shook his head walking up in front of you.

"No need for that, m'lady." You nod feeling a bit nostalgic being here with him in godswoods like old times.

"You look different." He said making you raise a brow at him.

"Is that a good or bad thing." You asked walking closer to him with your hands behind your back, he looked down at you with smirk.

"A good thing...a very thing." You felt your cheeks get warm.

"I-I should be leaving I promised the princess I'll take her horseback riding, and teach her how to use an bow." You walked around him when he followed you.

"May I accompany you both? Maybe i can even help teach." You turned your head looking at him as you both walk down the hall.

"I don't know from what my memory serve, you were better at the sword than the bow." You teased.

"That is true, but now I'm better and willing to wager that I can hit every target." You gave him a 'oh really' look, "We see about that." He chuckled as we continue on our journey.

~

Daemon squint as you walk ahead of him with rhaenyra through the garden he couldn't believe that you made every bullseye, he was abashed and impress that you still had it in you. It been years since he saw you...since he was near you, he was smitten when he saw you again you looked as beautiful as the day he left king's landing.

"Don't feel bad, my prince. A little more practice you'll get atleast two targets next time." You teased stopping so he could catch, he stop shooting a look at the back of his neice's head hearing rhaenyra giggle as the girl walked ahead with ser harwin. He turned to you looking down he couldn't help but gaze at you as if you were a peice of art, he could tell that you were getting shy as you bowed your away.

"You still got it. I would have thought you stop when I left." You shrugged as you sway slowly side to side.

"Yeah, I did for a while but I couldn't help it. It kept my mind off things and home." He hummed in understanding.

"I never asked. Why are you here?" He held out his arm for you to take you looked at him for a second before taking it, you both begin to walk around the garden.

"I'm rhaenyra's lady in waiting...just until my father found me a suitable husband anyways." You sigh in thought, he looked at you in his own thoughts.

"Are you okay?" You asked seeing him stare at you, he broke out of his thoughts at the sound of your voice.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" He says

"You been looking at me weirdly since godswood." You saw as he grew a bit pink in the cheeks at your observation.

"Well, that's only because your easy on the eyes, m'lady." You let out a soft laugh feeling a bit bashful at his compliment.

"By the gods, still as charming and straightforward as ever, daemon." He heart beaten faster when you said his name bringing back memories of you and him.

"Can't help it when a beautiful woman like yourself on my arm, I just have to say what's on my mind." The smiled on your face hurt as he made you more burn up with his words.

"Your sweet words are a delightful treat to hear, my prince." He felt his hurt grew warm he moved his hand to rest on yours stroking his thumb over your hand.

"And your presents alone is enough for me." He stopped causing you to look up at him the air between you two felt familiar, you could see him leaning down but you step back before you could be pulled under his spell.

"We can't, daemon." You said softly glancing around rhaenyra and her guard was gone from sight, and there was no kne around.

"Why not? You have no clue how much I miss you, and much I thought about you while I was away." He hand to caress your face.

"I am rhaenyra's lady and I won't be here that long for us to become an item again, I will eventually be married off."

"Marriage is a political arrangement, after its done you can be with whoever you want." You shook your head placing you hand on his chest.

"Maybe for you, but women can't do such things in this world and you know that. I would be sullied and no man will want me." His hand moved over yours bring it to his lips.

"I will want you. Like I always have," he sigh looking down at the concert floor rubbing your hand with his thumb, " Why did you leave me?" He asked brokenly looking up at you again, your face showed gulit and heartache.

"There were so many rumors about you and me, so much so my father sent me back home. He knew about us but he couldnt risk a rumor like that to staining our family." He kissed your knuckles before looking at you.

"For the past four years I haven't been the same no matter how many women I buried myself under, they couldn't reach me like you did or hold the same flame to your charisma."

"... and I promise you one day we will finally be happy togther like the gods tended it to be." He leaned down pressing a soft and passionate kiss against your lips making you kiss back with equal amount of passion.

~

You leaned against the tree in godswood reading when a servant came up to you giving you a peice of parchment, you see that it's from your father and read it carefully you sigh in disappointment your father found you a husband. It been a good month that past since meeting daemon again even through we promised to still be friends, I hoped that after his lady wife past he go to my father and ask for my hand in marriage. But, you knew better daemon didn't like to be tied down to one person and enjoyed the forbidden fruits of silk street and fleabottom, after spending time with him you felt like we were falling in love all over again from the way he gave you his attention to the small gifts he brought you from his trips to essos.

The morning walks he joined you and the nighly ones as well brought you back, it took a while for you to get closer to him physically fearing that someone may see and rumors will spread causing to leave again. And daemon gave you time he would sometimes brush his finger against her hand as a sign of affection like he did so many years ago, you even started training with a sword again with him and like always he won and he would kiss your cheek to show he proud he was you were getting better. Everything we did made you happy to think about the old memories without feeling a lick of sorrow.

Maybe that's why you hoped that he proposed to you, the parchment was crumbled and sat beside as you continued reading after a while you left back to your chambers. You checked on the princess along the way to found her and her new lover to togther, you were happy for her and was glad that the man she married was good to her. It seems everything was going good for the princess you taught her as much as you know along the years you had together, now she's a grown woman and living her life like she should without her stepmother always in her affairs and ser criston. You walked in your chambers to found daemon on your bed flipping through one of your many books, you closed the door catching his attention making him smile at you and put the book aside. He got up opening his arm you threw the book on the bed wrapping your arms around his torso, he could tell that you were in a glum mood as he wrapped his arms around your shoulder burying his gave in your hair.

"What's wrong?" He asked rubbing your back.

"My father wrote to me...he found me a lord husband." You said muffled in his shirt, he didnt say anything as he rubbed your back you pulled away after a moment.

"Soon? Did he tell you who it was?" You shook your head rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

"All it said was that we will be married soon." You sigh sniffling, daemon hummed his hands moving to her shoulder gently squeezing it.

"You know that I love you, right." He says.

"As a friend?" You asked looking down at your shoes, daemon's fingers tilted your head up to look at him.

"No, more than that." You looked at his purple lilac eyes and saw the admiration and adoration that flicker through his eyes when looking at you.

"I know." He smiled before telling you to close your eyes you gave him a puzzled look.

"Why?" He smiled.

"Humor me." You looked st him for a moment before closing your eyes, you waited on your his say so.

"Open." He whispered, you did before taking a step back seeing daemon on his knee holding a ring.

"Daemon–" your hand went to your chest and stomach looking down at the pear sapphire ring.

"I went to you father day and night for the past eighteen days asking for your hand in marriage, each time he turn me away and every day after I came back." You couldn't help as the tears welled up in your eyes, you moved your hand from your chest to your mouth trying fo stop the sobs from breaking through.

"I confessed my love for you to your father each day until my throat was sore snd raw, it wasn't until recently that he gave me his blessing to take his only daughter to be my wife." Daemon looked at you with a glint of happiness and affection as he told you what he did.

"So, I ask you the love of my life, will you take me as your lord husband?" You let out a small sob before nodding repeatedly.

"Yes, I'll marry you." Daemon let out a exhale of relief as he put the ring on your finger he stood up as you wrapped your hands around his neck, he picked you up spinning you causing you to let a chuckle before plopping you down on the bed.

"I'm so lucky that I came back," he said as he pressed kisses all over your face, he pulled back hovering over you to look at your face, "...promise me your never leave me again." He plead

"I promise I'll never leave you agakn, my sweet prince." Your arms held him to you by his neck deepening the kiss while your legs tangled togther as you both slowly peel off their clothes, finally after years of separation and waiting they finally can show each how much they mean to one another.

#daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x black!reader #hotd fanfic #asoifedit #asoif fanfic #black!reader #black oc #x black reader #black reader #blackoc #daemon targaryen #asoiaf #asoif/got #hotd #daemon targaryen imagine

[talesofesther]

no one gets my soul right like you

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You're about to graduate college and you still haven't had your first kiss; Eddie, as the good friend he is, offers to help.

Requested by anon: How would Eddie react to a reader who has never been in a relationship or been kissed (they are graduating college)

A/N: This was going to be a very small blurb but as we've established before I have a total of zero limits, so now we have this. Also, I think this fic is a good teller of how much affection I hold for Eddie.

Masterlist

It felt somewhat nostalgic. Almost four years have gone by, and Lover's Lake still looks exactly the same as it did when you graduated high school. The trees were still dense and the water was still calm, now painted in shades of orange, pink, and purple thanks to the setting sun.

The beautiful sight brought you a nostalgic feeling, but it also made you feel like you had never left at all.

Part of it, you knew, was because of the low guitar solo playing in the background; the faint smell of smoke, and the aftertaste of your milkshake as you sat in the back of the same van that used to take you to school every day, its back doors were open; they gave you a full view of the warm glow reflecting in the lake's water and making the trees look like nothing but black silhouettes.

Part of the familiarity that blossomed warm bursts of color in your heart, had his feet touching your knee as he sat across from you, dark curls just a tad longer than you remembered.

Eddie's smile was still the most contagious one you knew, his chocolate eyes were still the most gentle and pretty. He laughed at something you said, you couldn't even properly remember what it was now, but his eyes crinkled on the sides and he threw his head back, hitting the wall of the van and making his hair fluff around his cheeks; the sunlight shaped the curve of his smile, his dimples and the rosy tint of his cheeks. He looked like a painting, like something worthy of being in a museum for everyone to admire.

You were looking, you knew that from the way he quirked an eyebrow and smirked at you all soft and pretty, his fingers tapping your ankle. But it's been a good few weeks since you last saw him, so you could be excused for missing the hell out of him.

Not so deep down, you also knew he felt just the same; for the simple fact of his nearly five-minute hug when he came to pick you up, or how his pinky was hooked with yours the whole time you were ordering your milkshakes.

"Do you remember that one time we got detention because they decided to put the blame on us for the whole food fight thing in the cafeteria?" Eddie asked, twirling the straw of his cup with one hand.

"I remember that you started it, and dragged me under the bus with you." You teased, drinking the last drops of your milkshake.

Eddie scoffed, faking offense and glancing out towards the lake; "that's such a lie, I'm a saint."

It had you chuckling. You bit your lower lip when you felt heat coming up your cheeks.

You didn't see it, but Eddie's smile mirrored yours, albeit more adoring. He leaned forward just a tad, "what I'm saying is, I miss those days, you know when it was just- just me and you," he said all shy.

You discarded your empty cup and kept your gaze on him, admiring the golden specks of the sun reflecting on his doe eyes. "I do too Eddie, so much. But we're just a few weeks short of graduation, then I'll be back annoying you every day, no misses."

Running a hand through his hair and messing up his fringe, Eddie smiled; "can't wait." A beat passed, his teeth digging into his cheek as he worried over his next words. "How's college been treating you anyway? Any… any boyfriends I should know about? Girlfriends?" He shrugged, incessant hand twisting and turning the poor straw of his drink as he strove to keep his face impassive.

You hummed, leaning back on his van; "no, not really, I'm still a loner."

"That's their loss."

"What about you?" You asked, stomach fluttering inside.

"You remain as the only one in my heart," Eddie told you, one hand going over his chest dramatically as he professed the words in a lower tone to ease the truthfulness behind them.

You shook your head, smiling wholeheartedly in the way only he could get you to do.

"Only bad make-out sessions then?" Eddie slurped the last of his milkshake, throat tight with a fit of jealousy he wasn't allowed to feel.

The late afternoon breeze got your hair flowing, you pushed it behind your ear and averted your eyes. You knew for a fact that Eddie would never judge you — above anything, he made you feel safe — but even with him, you felt a bit self-conscious. You cleared your throat; "no I- no."

Eddie's eyebrows scrunched together, watching how you involuntary curled in on yourself a little. His hands immediately itched to hold you, but he eventually grasped what you were trying to say. "Oh, you still haven't-" He started, tone all tender.

"No," you interrupted, looking up at him only to be met with those damn sweet eyes looking back at you with nothing but affection, "you know me, Eddie, it's not like I go out kissing the first guy I see and… It just, never felt right with anyone." You explained yourself even if you didn't have to.

"Hey, that's alright," he was quick to say, "you know I'm the same, and there's nothing wrong with that."

"You've been with people."

"Nothing special." They weren't you, Eddie wanted to say.

You groaned, momentarily focusing on the bright orange of the last rays of the sun and how the fish were coming to the surface for the late evening bugs. "Still, I'm graduating college Eddie, it feels weird that I haven't," you hesitated, "kissed anyone yet." You finished, quieter.

"You don't have to feel weird, it's a social construct." He shrugged.

"Yeah but I do feel weird." You insisted.

"I- I'm sure it'll happen soon," Eddie forced out even if it was the thing he dreaded the most. Being your friend always came first. "I mean it's you."

"Exactly," you groaned.

"Anyone would be lucky to have you."

His words took yours away for a moment. The van suddenly felt a lot hotter than it was before.

"Some guys tried," You told him quietly, as if this moment was a piece of glass and you held the hammer, "but I never- like I said it never felt right to me so I just bailed, and now..."

Eddie ran a tongue over his bottom lip, brushing his clammy palms on his jeans as any coherent thoughts flew out the window for him and only a dangerous one remained. "If it," the pitch of his voice was a tad higher and Eddie cursed it under his breath. He cleared his throat, took a long breath, tried again; "if it bothers you that much, maybe I could help?" He internally winced at his poor word choice.

Your gaze quickly snapped to him. You could hear the beating of your heart in your ears, feel the goosebumps on the back of your neck. "Are you suggesting that…" your words got tangled and you carefully motioned a hand between you and him.

Eddie looked as nervous as you felt, eyes twitching as he tried to hold your gaze; "yeah? I mean, if it bothers you that much then, maybe you'll feel better doing it with someone you trust?"

You could hardly consider what it would mean, what it would change for both of you. All you knew was that Eddie, your Eddie, the one who played guitar for you, canceled hellfire to be with you when you were sick, and squeezed his way into your heart with his Lord of the Rings references and a honey-like attitude, wanted to kiss you. Eddie wanted to kiss you. "Okay." You found yourself saying.

He seemed surprised, almost as if the idea of you saying yes hadn't crossed his mind when he asked. You saw his throat working through a gulp before he drew in a shaky breath, "okay," he repeated more to himself than to you.

Eddie carefully moved to sit beside you, nerves making his hands unsteady. His shoulder brushed yours when he settled down and he suddenly felt hot all over.

Unneeded, he realized. With one look at you, Eddie relaxed; because it was you, it was familiar and everything he ever wanted.

You, on the other hand, were as stiff as a rock, breathing coming out in shallow puffs. With your knees tucked close to your chest, your hands gripped at the fabric of your sweatpants. What if you're a bad kisser? What if Eddie hates it?

Eddie smiled something timid, raising a hand to your cheek, "alright?" He asked before he touched you.

Only when you nodded, that Eddie gently placed his hand on your cheek, guitar-scarred fingertips holding you as if you were the living form of his prettiest dream.

He was something enchanting up close, you could see every detail of him, your gaze moving over the curve of his lips to the bright glint of his eyes and the shape of his eyebrows. You weren't surprised to feel the natural pull to be closer, closer, closer.

"Just… push me away if you're uncomfortable okay?" Eddie said gently, breath fanning over your lips.

Your gaze was set on his lips, all plush and inviting, your mouth hovered open and the words were lazy out of your tongue; "alright."

Eddie brushed his thumb over your cheek and leaned in, slowly, because you had all the time in the world; he wanted to cherish you, if this was a one-time thing, if it would make him cry later, he wanted it to last as long as possible. His nose brushed yours first — he heard your breath hitching, felt the way you bunched up the end of his shirt on your fist — then his upper lip touched yours, and all he could feel, hear, and smell was you.

Eddie kissed you in the same way he fantasized about for years now, all tender and passionate, pouring everything, all the words he'd never have the courage to say, all the feelings that made his chest clench in pain when you were miles away, into the kiss.

The way he held your face ever so carefully, the way he caught your lower lip between his own and tentatively ran his tongue over it; it was nothing short of addictive, nothing short of divine.

You knew it, right then and there, that Eddie had ruined anyone else for you. He was it for you. Him and no one else. Maybe it happened even before, and you were just too naive to notice, because only with him it ever felt right.

You couldn't have enough. His nose brushed your cheek but he was still too far. You raised a hand to his head, fingers tangling between his soft curls as you moved up to straddle him; Eddie gasped into your mouth, the sound muffled by your lips. You cupped his face with both hands and he squeezed your waist, fingertips sneaking under your shirt and raising goosebumps down your back.

It was only when air was an annoying necessity that you pulled away from Eddie, just barely. Your nose bumped his as you both breathed heavily. Your pinkie brushed the pulse point on Eddie's neck and you felt his heartbeat, frantic just as yours was.

You pulled back a tad more, and wished deeply you had a camera with you;

Eddie's eyes opened slowly, his blown pupils made them seem almost completely black as he looked at you through his lashes; his cheeks were a deep shade of pink, hair tousled and lips swollen and reddish because of you. He was pretty, so goddamn pretty.

Eddie gulped, his hands refusing to lose their grip on you. He was stripped bare of any of his defenses, vulnerable as you'd never seen him before, ripping his chest open for you to do as you pleased with his heart.

Ever so slow and tender, you mapped the shape of Eddie's lips with your thumb, and when you reached the corner of his lower lip, he planted the ghost of a kiss on your finger. The silent version of a love confession.

Brushing away the hair that clung to his skin, you kissed his forehead; l love you too.

The sun had set, a few stars were showing themselves and crickets were singing around you. "I think I never want to kiss anyone else," you whispered into the night.

Eddie almost choked on air, he wouldn't be able to speak even if he tried, so he settled for the next best thing; pulling you down into another kiss, one hand behind your head as his lips crashed with yours. One peck, before he pulled away only to turn his head to find you again.

Eddie tasted like strawberry milkshake, his warmth rivaled that of the sun on a cold autumn day. He was like a missing puzzle piece, and if you knew before, you'd have been kissing him way earlier.

You smiled against his lips, eliciting a chuckle from him as well. He thinks the same, you figured. You have a lot to catch up on.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Eddie’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @alicefallsintotherabbithole @science--hoes @cherrypieyourface @tssf-imagines @astream-ofconsciousness @fentyreligion @fantasylovestoryme @justabeautiful-letdown @crazyrapunzel @yessica41 @dancing-hillary @bakugouswh0r3 @jakebasement @zervopoulouu @forverdaydreamer-blog @fromthedt @oeuryale @mcueveryday @witchbinchstories @call-me-magpie

@loveshineslikethesky @luvmybbies @tvserie-s-world @agirlsguidetolove @hallothankmas @sweetpeapod @forsaken-letters @hazydespair @fangirling-4-ever @electric-cabaret @ollyoxenfrees @twinkofmydreams @paola-carter @masterlistmanic @xceafh @andraimeide @esoltis280 @eddielives1986 @totallynotkaibiased @just-love-reading @murnsondock

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #strangerthingsedit #stranger things #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddiemunsonedit #joseph quinn #stranger things x reader #st #my story

[biscuitsngravie]

Daylight by Moonlight

Vampire!Nanami x Reader

cw/tw/tags: vampire!nanami, fem!reader, hematophogy (blood drinking), not editied cause im tired

wc: 2295

an: idk what to tag it regarding characters and stuff. should i just put in all the ppl who'll be included eventually or just tag them as they appear? also this is 100% gonna have smut later cause like, vampires are hot. do i tag it smut now or later? help! 😭

Chapter One

He opens his eyes suddenly, a sheen of sweat cooling his exposed skin with his heart pounding in his chest. He doesn’t need to check the time to know that he’s up before his alarm, the buzzing in the street confirming that much. His bangs lightly poke him in the eyes, fitting around the eyelashes that futilely try to fight against them. With one, heavy sigh he brushes them back, willing his heart to slow down. He eventually sits up and cradles his face in his hands, bringing his knees to his chest to breathe. 

Breathe…

Breathe…

Breathe……….

“He’s still breathing!”

“His heart rate’s coming back up! Hey, can you hear me?”

“It’s getting too high, he’s gonna go into shock!”

“Hey buddy, can you hear me? We’re gonna take care of ya, just hang in there!”

His alarm snaps him back into reality, sending a jolt down his spine. The surprise sets his heart aflame again, but this time it’s almost welcomed. Alarms nowadays are a lot more varied, from sing-songy (much like Gojo’s) to industrial ones that are a tad nostalgic. Kento’s personally decided to go for one that imitates birds chirping, a sound he occasionally misses from the mornings that now rings as his lullaby. 

He stretches his legs back out and leans over to check the time for sunset. Upon realizing it’s about an hour or so he softly groans to do a full body stretch before rising from the bed. He’s not too keen on doing laundry yet again this week, gathering the sheets to toss into his hamper before stepping into the shower. The water is hot, so hot it just barely burns his skin, but the sting is welcomed. It makes him feel alive. 

Small drops cascade over his body, racing each other down the drain. He softly chuckles to himself as he places imaginary bets on ones that glide down his thighs. He eventually dips his head under the stream, hissing slightly at the sting and turning the temperature down just a little to make it more bearable. His shampoo bottle pathetically squirts out just enough for his hair for one wash, and he curses himself for hanging out with Gojo the day (to him at least) prior rather than doing the grocery run he planned. 

The sound of the water hitting his skin and the tile fills his ears, drowning him in familiar memories once again. 

“I’m so sorry, young man! Are you hurt?”

“You don’t think he’s one of them, do ya?”

“He ain’t got no fangs—”

“Some of’em are sneaky like that! Open yer mouth, boy!”

*ding*

*ding*

*ding*

A fourth ding on his phone can almost undoubtedly confirm that it’s none other than the troublemaker himself reaching out. Nanami moves on with his shower and steps out with his towel around his waist. He forces his bangs to lay away from his face to squint at his phone. 

Gojo Satoru: <<Nanamiiii!>>

Gojo Satoru: <<Good morningggg (⁠~⁠￣⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠~>>

Gojo Satoru: <<I can’t stop by tonight but Choso should be there soon!>>

Gojo Satoru: <<Suguru’s letting me spend the day at his place!!! 😋>>

Nanami huffs incredulously. Well that’s sure a surprise. Though a part of him weeps for Gojo’s poor lover. He sends a text of warning back. 

<<Don’t try to bite him.>>

A text comes back almost immediately. Nanami can almost hear the saccharinely sweet feigned innocence dripping from the words on screen. 

Gojo Satoru: <<Oh whatever do you mean~>>

Nanami doesn’t even have the energy to kiss his teeth the way he wants before moving on, deciding that the message isn’t worthy of a response. He stands in front of the mirror to brush his teeth, bringing out his fangs and being sure to brush around them, only retracting them once he has to shrug his tongue. Once done with a quick and simple face wash and moisturizer he blowdries his hair from soaking to damp, leaving it wet enough to mold later. After doing a pat down with his towel, moisturizing the rest of his body, and getting dressed, he returns to his vanity to finish his hair off, using a gentle pomade and steady fingers. 

Though he’s done it more times than he could possibly count, he can’t relax until it’s molded into the perfect shape. As he does so, he notices his eyes slowly taking on a red tint under the caramel. The doorbell ringing almost cues the growling of his stomach and the aching beginning to creep in his bones. He settles for “good enough” and begins to head downstairs, dressed in everything but his shoes. 

There stands Choso, a pale but stocky man. Over a lot of time and quite a few half conversations, he’s learned that only one of his parents was a vampire, that parent quickly fucking off and living life who knows where not long after Choso’s conception. Choso inherited a jumble of traits that might as well have been taken out of a mystery bag with one’s eyes closed. He has that stark, pale skin, yet no fangs. He can survive on little blood, human blood stretching much farther for him than most. Though he can walk in the sun, he still has a sun sensitivity that generally keeps him safely tucked away, especially during the summer. Even without that state, he prefers the community of fellow vampires over humans either way. The bags under his eyes are completely separate, as he’s an incurable night owl with an early shift. He also has a brother. He also had more. 

“Please come in,” Nanami says uselessly, this becoming a routine for over a decade now. Choso still politely waits for the invitation, however, a mutual commitment to the bit. Nanami’s body is already buzzing with anticipation, every one of his muscles flexing at the sight of the wagon Choso totes behind him. A familiar smell wafts up to his nose, making him grunt.

Choso lets out a half-laugh. “Gojo-san felt generous.”

Nanami notices the way he’s tensing and wills himself to calm down. “H-how many extra?” he chokes out, his fangs already baring without his will. 

“Five.”

“Christ—”

“That’s what I said. Worst fucking haul of my life. Took everything in me not to tear into it, and I don’t even drink much.” Choso makes his way through the entrance hall past the first living area, heading to the industrial kitchen on the right. Once inside, he goes straight for the walk-in cooler and begins opening the top of the wagon. He hands one to the Nanami, deciding not to comment on the veins now poking against his temple and the eyes that have fully turned now. He faces the cooler shelves and reorganizes the leftover bags from the week before, moving the labels to keep the dates in order. “Alright, let’s see…”

Nanami greedily takes the bag in his hands, hastily tearing the corner off the packaging made for easy feeding. His body warms immediately, tingling and buzzing as the blood flows through him. It smells sickeningly sweet as it rushes throughout his system, but what else could he expect from Gojo Satoru. With the way he feels, he won’t have to feed for another month or so, and it wouldn’t be the first time. Gojo’s blood is divine and anyone who’s anyone knows that. 

Gojo Satoru: The sole remaining descendant of the Original Vampire. And to think he was only half. He contains every trait that any one person (or not) could dream of: his senses enhanced tenfold beyond the strongest vampire anyone could name. His regeneration and strength ridiculously above what should be vampirily possible. His stamina, his speed, his everything. With immunity to the sun and gifted in looks as well, he’s just as much the most annoying being on the planet. 

But his blood is heavenly. If Gojo were a con artist he could sell it by the two ounce bottle and ensure that anyone who had a taste could maybe be like him someday! Hell, with the way it feels right now, even Nanami would entertain the thought, even if no more than a brief lapse in judgement. Once his eyes hazily focus again after rolling to the back of his skull, he tries to strike up conversation as Choso does his work. 

“Sorry for not doing that, I thought Gojo-san was coming.”

“S’fine, I don’t mind it really. I like this kinda work anyway.” he sighs softly, clasping his hands momentarily as he surveys the bags he has before him. “I wanted to try something, tell me if you like. If not I’ll just go back to the normal stuff.” Choso grabs one bag with an extra label on it right under the date. “This one, aaand, where is it? Oh, these ones over here? I tried curing them. This one is withhh…” he squints at the bag to read the description, “Oh! So this is a Mediterranean vegetable medley. This one over here I put with chorizo, I dunno what I was thinking, but it was kind of a double-process.”

Nanami hums in interest, his eyebrows raising in curiosity. 

“And this one, I was actually supposed to deliver a while ago, but forgot. I decided to put some, uh, some yeast and sugar and cinnamon and stuff in it. Kind of like…” he snaps his fingers a few times and scrunches his nose as he tries to search the air for the word that escapes him. 

“Apple cider?” Nanami offers. 

“That!” he points back, “exactly that! I know you don’t mind the normal stuff, but you’re a chef, you know?”

“Owning a restaurant doesn’t make you a chef, it—”

“It makes you something. Besides, you basically cook for yourself all the time. It’s nice to let vampires do things for you sometimes.”

Nanami sighs to dispel the smile that threatens to tug at his lips. Even if he wasn't told, he and Itadori are brothers without a doubt. “I’ll try them. If I don’t see you next time I’ll be sure to text you my thoughts.”

“My first food review,” Choso chuckles at the joke made almost to himself. His ears perk up when he hears Nanami clear his throat.

“Would like one of Gojo-san’s?”

His eyes widen at the offer. “Oh no! No it’s no worries, he said he owes me for the last minute call so trust me, I have a lot to look forward to.” Choso sighs airily with a smile. “That human’s got him wrapped around his finger, I see.”

“He’s letting him spend the day over for the first time,” Nanami comments, letting Choso pull the wagon out of the walk-in.

“Oh? Suguru’s lucky he’s male or Gojo-san would keep him barefoot and pregnant.”

“Technology is advancing fast nowadays, if he ever turns that’s when he’d really be in trouble,” Nanami half mumbles to himself, pulling a laugh from Choso as they walk to the door. 

“That reminds me, do you know if Yuuji works today?” he asks, turning around after leading the wagon out the door. 

“Any particular reason why?”

“He’s been dodging my calls and I need to talk to him.”

Nanami’s not one to distribute information on his employees, regardless of familial relation. Unless it’s an emergency, everything is under lock and key, or in these times, safes. Though the information proves quite interesting considering that Itadori’s been especially active on his phone as of late. So much so that Nanami actually has a talk scheduled with him once he comes in. 

“It’s not nothing bad or anything, it’s just…” Choso exhales tiredly, scruffing up the back of one of his ponytails. “He’s got this boy toy recently—”

“And he’s human,” Nanami interrupts without really meaning to, letting his thoughts flow right from his lips. Choso nods in confirmation. Nanami mirrors him and says, “He works eleven to seven thirty.”

“Thank you,” comes out almost in a whisper, as if Itatdori himself were standing right there. With a sharp nod and an exchange of departing messages, Nanami closes the door and continues the pack from Gojo. Once he’s done he makes a small breakfast for himself. Though he doesn’t need to, making food and cooking it is fun. He likes the smells, the textures, the flavors. Anyone would say that as much as it is a necessity for some, the act of eating is plain old fun. No wonder his grandad opened all of these restaurants, besides the other reason. 

It’s only eight, so the grocery stores should still be open by the time he’s done with the cooking and cleanup. Cleanup being “put everything into the dishwasher and turn on heated dry.” Once he’s done with that, he heads to a nearby store and buys his coveted shampoo, sighing with relief as he picks up the last bottle. He decides not to go back home to drop it off, rather enjoying the warmth of the night. He walks down the sidewalk, already bustling with night owls and those who try to steal some time to themselves after their jobs before inevitably dragging themselves back home to sleep and do it again. 

He admires the way the trees decorating the sidewalks have their first signs of buds, soft and delicate to the touch. Sometimes he feels they’re so fragile they may disintegrate right before him. Spring is coming. Spring means summer. And summer means shorter days. He sighs to himself, looking to the stars, awaiting the “Quiet Hour,” when the city turns off its lights to let everyone enjoy their light. To bask in the suns that are too far away to hurt them.

When the clock reaches half past nine, he begins his walk towards work. 

[all-timelee]

I loved you so much || O.G.

Word count: 820

Warnings: none

Masterlist

"Remember Professor Sharp?"

Ominis' head turns in the direction of your voice, eyebrows raised in surprise at the sudden question. "Yes, of course, but it has been a while since either of us has seen him, hasn't it?"

"It has. Doesn't it all feel like forever ago?"

"Why are you thinking of Hogwarts? Missing classes?" He lightly teases, shifting his body closer to yours on the mattress, instinctively raising his arm to drape around your shoulders as you move to rest your head on his chest. 'We fit so well together', Ominis thought. His arm seemed to be sculpted just for this purpose. He wondered if you felt the same way.

"Definitely not. I'm just thinking," Y/N hums, smiling softly. "You never think about school?" You look up at Ominis, curious blue eyes studying his features.

"I suppose I do. It would be hard not to after our fifth year," he admits, running his fingers through your hair, brushing away some stray strands before tucking them behind your ear. You let out a small sigh. "We met in our fifth year," you mention quietly. The memories were still vivid in both of your minds. "Feeling nostalgic, darling?" Ominis' smile is crooked when he asks. You nod and nuzzle yourself closer into him, pressing soft kisses along his shoulder. It's a little chilly tonight, but Ominis can't find it in himself to mind much, not when he's got you tucking into his side.

"We've grown a lot since then," he adds thoughtfully, stroking your back tenderly with one hand.

"I loved you so much," you speak, the statement coming out quietly. "Obviously, I still do, I seem to love you more and more everyday, but I can't believe how much I loved you back then." Your breath tickles against Ominis' skin. His heart clenches when he hears that.

"I feel the same." Thinking back on it, Ominis couldn't remember a single moment he hadn't been completely enraptured by you. He'd never known he had this much room in his heart for one person until he met you, this is.

"Really?"

"What do you mean 'really'?"

"You've loved me since we were teenagers?"

He chuckles. "Of course I have. Does that come as a surprise to you?" Your fingers reach out to intertwine with his, your shoulders lifting in a small shrug. "I suppose it does a little bit. I thought it was more recent for you. I hadn't realized we felt the same at that time." You give Ominis a gentle squeeze.

He smiled gently, resting his head atop yours.

You two had definitely taken your time in realizing your feelings were reciprocated, but with all the events that had happened in your fifth-year, that was to be expected. Ominis didn't mind much, he had you now, which made everything worth it in the end. He almost thought it was better that it'd taken so long, things were easier now. Ominis had left his family for good, there was no imminent threat for you to face, life was finally simple.

"We got there in the end, didn't we?" An easy smile was resting on his lips and you returned the sentiment. You could agree wholeheartedly with that sentiment. After what you and Ominis went through, how happy the two of you had become, how close the two of you were... it made perfect sense for everything to work out the way it had.

"I just feel like we lost so much time. So much time we could've spent exactly as we are now." You rolled onto your stomach, hands gently moving to cup the blonde boy's face. "I plan on spending the rest of my life making up for lost time," you declared.

Ominis' breath caught in his throat. The suggestion that this was going to last the rest of your lives caught him off guard. His heart began pounding a little harder, his hands moving to rest on your hips. "I should hope so," he finally responded, his warm breath fanning over your cheeks. "There's nothing I could ever want more."

"I don't know that I'll ever understand how I got so lucky." There was fondness laced throughout your words, as if you knew how rare and precious it was to have someone as special as Ominis. "You're not as lucky as I am, my love." He opened his mouth once more to whisper those three little words, but you cut him off, pressing your lips to his gingerly. Ominis quickly swallowed his words and responded to your affection, kissing you back with equal passion.

When you parted a minute later, your faces remain close to one another's, your hands still holding his face. "I love you, Ominis."

It's as if Ominis feels the words as they leave your mouth. It's in his pulse, those words are the reason he has a pulse.

"I love you too, Y/N."

#ominis gaunt #ominis x reader #ominis fluff #ominis x mc #ominis imagine #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #sebastian sallow #fanfic #imagine #imagines #fanfiction #fluff