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imaginetheonewith · 10 months

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The one where Y/N gets jealous

Pairing: Joey Tribbiani x f!reader

Warnings: none (I think)

Author's note: It was not easy to imagine reader in the "Friends" universe, but .. hey! I tried my best and I do hope you all enjoy it. The lack of fanfiction about this tv show is criminal x

Red.

That is all could see in front of you at this moment. But it was not the type of red that you see when you are in love and the world seems to suddenly become a better place.

Oh no, it was way worse than that. It was the bright crinkly red, which was currently barely covering the tall blonde’s chest from lustful eyes. Or more specifically Joey’s.

“You know”, Chandler’s voice sounded next to you, “If you keep staring at her for 30 more seconds her head may catch fire. Or preferably that tight, low-cut…”

Your head whipped towards him and he quickly raised his hands in defence.

“… shoes!”, he cleared his voice, while pointing aggressively towards the girl’s feet, “These tight, low-cut shoes! Burn them! Burn them!”

Rolling your eyes, you turned your attention back to the bar, where Joey was shamelessly flirting with his ex, Angela. She was a beautiful and lean part-time actress, with an amazing fashion style, and wild blond locks. She was also the only girl who managed to keep Joey in a relationship for more than a few weeks. 3 years, to be exact.

It was not a secret that you did not harbor any warm feelings toward her. Not only did she break your best friend’s heart, but she was also the only one of his girlfriends that managed to catch on to your feelings towards him and use any chance she got to remind you that you will always remain stuck in the friend zone. It was almost as if she enjoyed inflicting pain on people around her and seeing them suffer.

“I can’t believe he is still talking with her”, you groaned, clapping your hands on your tights, “Look at him laughing! What could she say that is so funny?”

You didn’t wait for a response, before turning towards Chandler and pulling the newspaper away from his hands.

“Sure, I was totally done reading that”, he fake-smiled at you while grabbing his cup of coffee. His sarcastic remark went right above your head, as you grabbed his hands and squeezed them in yours.

“Chandler, you are one of the most, most special and valuable people in my life!”

“Well, I do have this effect on people”, he winked at you, while getting himself in a more comfortable position. You smiled with tightly pressed lips, doing your stop any smart remark that was sitting at the end of your tongue.

“And I would do anything… well, almost anything for you. Because I believe that when I need your help, you will do the same for me and-“

“Is it by any chance my birthday today?”, he interrupted you with a suspicious glare and you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, “Because the Y/N I know is never, ever so nice, unless he wants something and-“

He paused for a second, his face falling with realization. He quickly pulled his hands away from you and pointed an accusing finger at your face.

“NO! Whatever is going in that pretty head of yours, I am not going to do it.”

Chandler tried to get from his seat, but you were quick to lay down and throw your legs over his, trapping him in his place.

“You didn’t even listen to me!”

“I don’t have to”, his words were mumbled through a fake smile and squinted eyes, “I already know what you are thinking. And I am not going to do it.”

You raised your eyebrow, challenging him:

“What I am thinking? Maybe I just want to show you how much I love you as a friend…”

“And also send me to the bar, so I can eavesdrop on Joey and Angela.”

“Damn, you’re good”, you mumbled under your breath, finally releasing your friend from your leg trap. Your head fell in your hands and you closed your eyes in a weak attempt to stop yourself from thinking about the couple just a few feet away from you.

There was no reason to feel like this. You knew Joey for over 6 years now and you’ve been best friends for just as long. You two became close almost immediately after Chandler introduced you to each other and much to everyone’s surprise, including yours, the actor never showed even a slight romantic interest towards you. On the other hand, you fell head over heels for him from the moment you met him. His charming smile, flirty jokes, and kind soul made you overlook all his bad qualities, and “red flags” Monica and Rachel warned you about. Sure, he did have a bit of a reputation with the ladies, but seeing how loyal was he toward his friends, you knew that he was capable of commitment.

He just needed to find his woman. His one true soulmate, who would love him and cherish him the way he deserves.

What wouldn’t you give to be this one woman?

“Hey”, Chandler tried to catch your attention, while his hands started rubbing small circles on your back, “It’s going to be okay.”

Besides Joey, Chandler was your second closest friend. Before he moved to his current apartment, he was briefly your roommate and with both of you being new to the city, it didn’t take long for you to form a strong bond. From being children of divorced couples to having a career in statistical analysis and not-so-lucky love life, you two lived almost identical lives. It was not a surprise you often found comfort in each other, knowing that there is no other person who can understand you better than him.

Just as you were leaning back towards Chandler’s shoulder, Joey jumped on the sofa next to you with a wide smile on his face.

“You won’t believe who I am having dinner with tonight!”

“Winona Ryder?”, Chandler tried to guess and you bit a smile. Joey on the other hand did not find the remark funny, rolling his eyes instead.

“Remember Angela? My ex-girlfriend? The one that I thought I am going to marry because we were dating for so long?”

“How could we forget her?”, you mumbled under your nose, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “She is very…. memorable.”

Joey eyed you with furrowed brows, his eyes stopping at your shoulder, where Chandler’s hand was still gently massaging you. He let out a scoff, before moving to his favorite chair next to the bar. He knew that you and Angela had a bit of a strained relationship in the past, but he was hoping that you would at least try to act excited for him, instead of being all cozy with his roommate.

“Wow”, he breathed out, “Still jealous, I see.”

His words made you freeze in place, your cup of coffee just millimeters from your lips. Chandler tensed next to you and while you could not see, you were sure he was mouthing something to Joey. You slammed your cup on the table and turned towards the actor, only to find him glaring at you.

“Excuse me?”

“Look, Y/N, I know you girls love to be competitive and compare to each other all the time…”, he stayed silenced for a second, his hands moving in slow circles in front of him as if it was helping him gather his thoughts quicker, “But there is no reason to feel that way towards Angela. You know you will always be my best friend. Nobody will change that.”

You let out a dry laugh, turning towards Chandler, who was watching the happening with wide eyes. He shook his head as a warning for you to not continue this conversation, but he quickly realized your mind was already set when you shook his arms away from you and stood from your place.

“Is this what you think? You think I feel threatened by Angela?”

“Well, I did not use exactly that word…”, Joey mumbled, trying his best to avoid your furious gaze. The regret of saying anything was already clear on his face. If he could turn back time by just a few minutes, he would’ve just kept his mouth shut and enjoyed a nice quiet afternoon with both of his closest friends.

You, on the other hand, were not about to let this go so easily. Jealous? Of Angela? Pffftttt. Pushing your hair behind your ears, you tried your best to keep your voice low and not startle all of Central Perk’s clients.

“Joey, as your best friend, I can assure you that not even a cell in my body feels threatened by that manipulative and sly snake.”

“Okay, you are just being mean now”, the feeling of regret quickly vanished and his eyes hardened in a glare, “What is your problem?”

Before you can even open your mouth to reply, Chandler jumped between both of you and raised his palms towards both yours and Joey’s mouth, preventing you from saying anything further.

“Ah, this is exactly how my parents were acting just before they got divorced”, he made a disgusted face when the memory flashed in front of his eyes. He turned towards Joey, “We are happy about you, Joey. All of us. But… you know… we all remember what Angela did to you.”

“She’s changed”, Joey whined with a high-pitched voice, earning another mocking laugh from you. This gesture immediately resulted in his features becoming serious once again, “You know what… I don’t care if you approve of Angela or not. I love her and I will not give her up. I know she is the one and we will be together… once she breaks up with Bob.”

“Bob?”, Chandler moved his hands away as if burned, “Who is Bob?”

Joey opened his mouth but then closed it again when he didn’t get the courage to say anything. For you, however, it was enough to confirm your suspicion.

“This is ridiculous!”, you groaned, “She has a boyfriend and she is still trying to get in bed with you. She is using you, Joey! I can’t even believe you are agreeing to take her out on dinner!”

“It’s not like I am taking only her. I am taking Bob as well!”

“Oh, that’s great. So all three of you can be one big happy… throuple.”, you grabbed your coffee cup and matched towards the bar, where Gunther was not even trying to hide his interest towards your argument.

“I don’t mean I am going to go out with both of them”, Joey argued, looking at Chandler to check if he agrees, “You don’t think I am trying to get both of them, right?”

Chandler just shrugged his shoulders in response, too scared to get any more involved.

“I am going to ask Monica to come with me, so it’s like a double date. That way I keep Angela for myself and Monica can keep Bob.”

“Monica?”, the name fell as a surprised yell from your lips, “Why not me?”

Joey let out a scoff as if you were asking the stupidest question he ever heard, “Well, you and Angela do not get along well… And also I don’t think Bob is going to be your type.”

The last sentence made you raise your eyebrows and you crossed your arms in front of your chest. A tiny voice inside your head was telling you to not dwell on his remark and leave instead before you do something that can ruin your friendship forever. However, your bruised ego could not handle Joey having the last word in this.

“What do you even know about “my type”? For all you know, Bob may be exactly the man of my dreams.”

“Yeah, right”, he laughed under his nose, directing his attention toward the sandwich Gunther just brought, “The guy is a dog food tester. How can that be your soulmate?”

“Well once I thought my soulmate is always an out-of-job actor”, you stomped towards the coat hanger, grabbing your coat and purse, “So how much worse can a dog tester be?”

Without sparing even a glance towards them, you made your way outside, ignoring Chandler’s calls. You didn’t know where you were going or what were you going to do. All you knew is you just need to be alone.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few days passed since your and Joey’s argument and you have not seen each other since. Despite your friends telling you it is valid to feel the way you feel, you couldn’t help but feel guilty about the way you reacted. It was unreasonable to expect that he would not pursue a woman he clearly had feelings for, just because of your opinion of her. You wanted him to be happy, even if it was with someone who was not you.

Still, it hurt. Not only the idea of him being to another woman but also the fact that you certainly ruined your friendship. You did not realize what slipped past your lips before you left the coffee shop that day till Chandler came to your apartment later and informed you of the talk he and Joey just had.

The actor did hear you and did put two and two together “surprisingly quickly”, as Chandler described it, which lead to a big argument between the two. On one hand, Joey thought it was unacceptable that you kept this secret for so long from him, instead of just talking. On the other hand, Chandler thought he was judging you unfairly and was unhappy with the fact that Joey still went ahead with the date with Angela.

It seemed that everyone heard about what happened the same day, as later that night Rachel, Ross, and Phoebe all showed up with some Chinese takeaway and five boxes of ice cream. You appreciate that they all showed up for you, but you could not shake away the tight feeling of anxiousness in your chest. You needed to know how the date went and if Joey and Angela were back together, and the only way to find out was to speak to Monica.

Now, finally being the weekend, both of you were off work and eager to catch up with each other. Sitting on the floor in her living room, you ate homemade biscuit cake and spilled gossip about the events from the past week.

“I would’ve never agreed to go with him if I knew all the details” Monica exclaimed, “He told me they were siblings. And I did believe him, till I saw her tongue in his ear. It was disgusting!”

You choked a laugh and quickly covered your mouth, trying to keep the food inside. Apparently, Joey told Monica Bob was Angela’s brother in order to convince her to go on a double date with them. And while they did manage to break the “happy” couple and keep the pieces to themselves, Monica was far from impressed by Bob’s performance in bed and has decided to not see him anymore. Listening to her detailed story from that night, you could not judge her at all.

You finally swallowed your bite and were about to respond, when the door opened, and the man you least wanted to see came into the kitchen.

“Hey Monica, I know you said to not bother you tonight, but we have no beers left and… Y/N?!”

Joey froze in his place next to the fridge, his eyes dancing between you and the dark-haired woman. Monica has told them to stay away from her flat earlier, but he has just assumed she was having a date over. He definitely did not expect to see you.

“Y/N, um… What are you… uhm.. doing here?”, he shuttered and you had to bite your lip in order to stop a smile from spreading on your face. Flustered Joey was a rare, but cute sight.

You quickly jumped on your feet and grabbed your bag from the sofa, giving an awkward smile.

“I was just about to go, actually”, you turned towards Monica and pulled her into a hug, “I will catch up with you soon. Bye, Mon! Bye, Joey!”

You hurried towards the door without sparing your friends a second glance and were almost down the stairs when you heard heavy steps behind you and felt a hand pulling you back by your wrist. You stumbled back, almost losing your balance, before another hand wrapped around your shoulder in order to stable you.

You looked up only to come face-to-face with Joey, who was staring at you with wide eyes. He was so close his breaths were hitting your face like a warm breeze and almost closed your eyes, trying to save the feeling of closeness in your mind.

“Y/N…”, he whispered, “Listen, I…”

“Yes?”, you tried to push him to finish a sentence, eager to hear what he has to say. There were a million and one things you wanted to tell him, but how could you after you threw away years of friendship in just a few seconds of pure rage? You were simply not ready to talk about it yet.

But did not stop you from trying to hear what he has to say.

“I made a mistake. I should have never gone out with Angela.”

There was a skip of your hearbeat. Were you dreaming? You were sure you did get up from your bed morning, but then again the only times Joet was saying the words 'mistake' and a girl's name in one sentence it was in only in your imagination.

You furrowed your eyebrows and were ready to argue that the only person in this hallway who made a mistake was you, but before you can start talking, he pressed his finger to your lips, shushing you.

“No, let me finish”, he moved his hand away, “I have… I have prepared this speech for a while.”

He got silent for a minute, moving his eyes away from you and focusing on the floor instead.

“I have been in love with you pretty much since the day we met. Your smile, your wit, your beauty… I have never seen another woman like you. And I know you think I didn’t like you, because I’ve never made a move, but I was so scared… You know? And I was trying to forget you by seeking someone else, but I could never do it. All I ever wanted was you. Which hurt, because I knew that I will never be good enough for you and-“

His words were interrupted by your lips on his. A wave of electricity passed through your whole body and you could swear your feet became jelly. His arms circled your waist, pressing you against his hard chest.

It lasted only a few seconds before you both pulled away with wide eyes. With uneven breathing, you pressed your forehead against his, enjoying the warmth of his hands on your lower back. A small smile broke on your lips and Joey mirrored it.

“Wanna do it again?”, he asked, giving you a wink.

“Absolutely”, you whispered before catching his mouth with yours again.

#f.r.i.e.n.d.s #joey tribbiani #joey tribbiani imagine #joey tribbiani fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #writing #imagine #oneshot #scenario #friends fanfic #friends imagine #joey tribbiani x reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 months

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Lilia, Epel: Blessing Givers, Curse Breaker

Lilia’s vignettes continue to be gold! He “humble” brags about how his voice is great, he’s sooo adorable, and such an ikemen… (Apparently he realized he was cute because people would give him free stuff and help on his travels and when he first came to NRC!) Best part was definitely when Lilia described cooking for his dorm members and they were “so touched” that they bowed their heads, covered their faces, and/or cried 💀 NOT THEM PUTTING A PICTURE OF MALEFICENT DRAGON FORM ON LILIA'S BIRTHDAY CARD… His vignettes also mention having the strength to overcome “a curse” 😭 Cruel reminders of the tragedy that unfolded in his past, and bis unfulfilled search for a cure for Silver... TWST devs, you sickos/j

A Tale as Old as Time.

Three fairies crowded around a cradle, its curtained hood up to obscure the infant within. Green, pink, blue—each was dressed in a particular color. They glanced at the baby and at each other, mouths agape to discuss their blessings.

Safeguarded within the platinum frame was a celebration of life and a future yet to be told. The fragile start of a brand new story.

Lilia wanted to protect it himself.

“Looks like some fancy shindig.” The remark came from Epel, who gazed upon the same painting. "Erm... I mean, party. That is what it is, right...?"

"They've come to bestow gifts upon a newborn princess. Royal affairs can be a bit stiff, I'm afraid. Can't even show up to one without an invitation! Some hosts are just sticklers for tradition and protocol."

"Oh, I got it!" Epel visibly perked, cheeks appling with pink. "It's a different kind of gathering. Back home in Harveston, they're a lot more informal. Family and all the neighbors coming by with plates of warm food, a makeshift band and folks dancing, catching up by the fire... It's so lively."

Lilia’s lip curled, the corners lifting into a slight smile. "It's good to know that your hometown hasn't lost its charm."

"You've visited before?"

"Once, long ago," the ancient fae chuckled, "when I was still a stubborn and stony-faced youth. The people of Harveston opened their hearts and offered hospitality. From what you've told me, it's clear that the very same spirit from then persists to this day."

"Gosh, really?" Epel puffed up at that, as though he were a peacock flaunting his feathers. "Hehe, wellll, Harveston does have a way of makin' ya feel cozy and right at home, even if yer far away from it!"

"That it does." Lilia's eyes traced the wall of artwork before him. The colors, shapes, and textures. "Twisted Wonderland is so vast and diverse. I've traveled far and wide, experienced a great deal of cultures, yet I always find myself anchored to that one special place called home. There is no comfort like it."

There’s no place like home.

A twinge pulsated in his chest. The pain, marring the nostalgic warmth he bathed in. Lilia did not let it show—not to his underclassman, not this child that stared at him with such eagerness.

He swallowed.

“How do you celebrate in Briar Valley?” Epel asked. “Can you tell me about your traditions too?”

“Kufufu. You’re keen on learning, I see.”

“I didn’t always. I’m sure if you asked Vil, he’d give you a mouthful about how ‘uppity’ and ‘full of myself’ I was at first.” Epel groaned at the thought of another lecture from his dorm leader. “… But recently, I’ve been thinkin’ it’s not too bad to hear about how others experience everything.

“Meemaw—my grandma—goes to the city to sell our farm’s produce. She has to switch up how she talks to speak to the locals. I noticed our mayor too, when he talks to tourists. So learning about new people and cultures can’t be a bad thing.”

Epel’s eyes were wide, sparkling with wanderlust. Wistful and longing for the world that awaited him.

Perhaps Lilia had worn the same expression before, at the moment of his epiphany. When had he realized it? When the elderly couple had draped a blanket over him, when they shared a meal, when they spun him the stories of their lives, or when he sat at the cradle and relived those times to a still dormant Malleus?

The warmth in him expanded, like a gulp of soup trickling down his throat, then splashing in his stomach. It had been a humble broth of vegetables, and yet it satisfied him down to the last drop.

“We’re really not so different,” Lilia explained with a grin. “Food and friends are all you need to have a good time wherever you are.

“However, if you are particularly fortunate, you just may have a guardian fairy descend and give you blessings as well.” He indicated the painting of the three fairies hovering over a cradle. “Like so. I believe this infant was gifted with song, beauty, and…”

“Song and beauty?!” Epel’s expression crinkled. “Who decided on those, the parents?”

“The guardian fairies themselves. They choose what they believe will bring the blessed child happiness.”

“They could’ve given the kid something more…” Epel vaguely waved a hand. “I don’t know, useful? Why not strength so they won’t lose any fights? I’d be happy with some more muscle of my own…”

Lilia laughed, soft and low like a midnight whisper. “Why not indeed.”

Because time steals away everything eventually, hissed a voice in his head. The truth, bare and bitter.

The edges of Lilia’s vision quivered. A memory resurfaced—blink, and he saw himself in the frame, his long shadow cast over the crib. Blink, and that was Silver nestled in the fabric. Blink, and the castle was abandoned and covered in thorns.

A fairy robbing a crib of its cursed child.

“Strength is good to have,” Lilia said slowly, “but it will not last forever. Not many things do.”

Still… If I could have one wish, it would be…

The only force able to break the spell set upon Silver. The one feeling he was certain he was incapable of. A love so pure and honest, it was known to be true.

Something he wasn’t worthy of.

True love.

Not him. Not the grimy, low-born bat of a dubious past—as his most unkind of thoughts would insist.

He was the same as them. He had condemned Silver to walking in the night, had made the decision for him. The instant his hair had turned from pale sunshine to the moonlight of his namesake, it was too late to unwind the clock.

Which had he cast—blessing or curse?

The longer he looked at the painting, the more mocking the gentle, rounded faces of the guardian fairies seemed to become. Guiltless, oblivious beings, they were.

They would never know of his plight.

Lilia scoffed. “If the fairies wanted the child to be happy, they should have granted them that strength.”

That which was impossible for him.

"The power to overcome a curse.”

"... The power to overcome a curse, huh?" Epel quietly mused. "Not even Vil-senpai has that kind of strength--and his unique magic is to cast curses! Until the conditions are fulfilled, it can't be broken."

"That's the trouble with curses," Lilia agreed. "They're finicky, depending on how they're woven. Some may even last a lifetime without ever being lifted. Others may spend their own lives seeking out cures."

The story of his life. He was always searching for something, something, something. Lost friends, how to hatch a dragon's egg, true love to dispel drowsiness.

Now, a happy ending.

Lilia released a sigh through his nose.

If only.

"Well, if magic can't make that wish come true... we'll just have to make it a reality ourselves, won't we?"

#twst #twisted wonderland #Lilia Vanrouge #twst imagines #twst scenarios #Epel Felmier #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #spoilers #something no one asked for #Lilia birthday takeover #the title is a reference to an Equestria Girls song www

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fandomxpreferences · 1 year

Text

Ten Seconds

Masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x female!reader

TW:none I don't think

Summary: Who knew life could change so quickly?

Word Count:3.3k

One. Rafe's eyes land on your features, taking in your plump lips that shine with strawberry-flavored lipgloss and the mild sunburn dusted on your cheeks.

Two. He takes a deep breath and for the first time, feels like his lungs can fully expand to take in the salty sea air in all its glory.

Three. His heart thrums in its cage, seemingly unlocked by a key he wasn't aware existed as it flutters away and lands in the palm of your hand.

Four. Your sweet scent intoxicates him, hitting his bloodstream like a drug that smells like tanning oil and cotton candy.

Five. The tension dissolves from his body as your energy engulfs him like a down comforter, and muscles he's never felt before unwind and go lax.

Five seconds is all it takes for Rafe's entire world to shift, and you disarm him without even knowing he exists.

Six. Your laugh floats to his ears like a summer melody that drips with sticky sweetness like a melting popsicle, and he decides it's his favorite treat.

Seven. His knees nearly buckle when a smile brighter than the sun graces your features, chasing away the darkness that shrouds him.

Eight. Your head tilts back and the hues from the setting sky dance off your exposed neck with an angelic glow, and suddenly pink is his favorite color.

Nine. His eye catches a glint of gold and his attention is drawn to the rings scattered on your right hand, suddenly he wants to add an even shinier one with a diamond that could be seen from space to your left.

Ten. Your lip quirks up as you catch him admiring you from afar, and the breeze that's thick with sand and hushed whispers that he previously inhaled is sucked from his constricting throat.

Ten seconds is all it takes for Rafe Cameron to believe in love at first sight. Time stands still altogether as he watches you excuse yourself from your friends and make your way toward him.

He notes that you seem to float instead of walk, moving oh so gracefully as if you're a celestial being and he's about to have a religious experience.

Your gaze never leaves his, the eye contact so intense that it sends fire racing through his veins, burning so hot it leaves a scorching trail in its wake.

He's frozen in place, utterly entranced by the way your long eyelashes fan across your face when you blink.

Another ten seconds is all the time it takes to cross the few feet of distance that separates the two of you, and his head swims at the close proximity.

Your aroma is even stronger up close, and he's sent reeling as he wonders if it could be bottled up and turned into a candle.

He doesn't even know your name and has never heard you speak, yet somehow you feel like home. It doesn't make any sense, but then again, neither does falling in love with a stranger.

You watch him for a moment, eyes raking over his chiseled jawline and backwards baseball cap. There's a few strands of sun bleached hair poking out and ticking his tanned skin in a way that reminds you of a character in The Outsiders.

He looks boyish and rugged at the same time, and your interest is fully piqued. He's easily the most attractive man you've ever seen.

Your melodic voice rings out like a siren song that's calling just for him, and the ever-present violent storm that rages just under the surface relents.

"Do you always lurk like a stalker or am I just that special?"

There's that smile again, unabashed and erasing any logical thought from his brain. You wait for a moment, your eyebrows shooting up expectantly as he stares down at you like he's been struck with lightning.

Rafe scrambles for words, begging his mind to string together a coherent sentence that will keep you within arms reach.

"Uh, sorry. You just-"

He cuts himself off and your grin widens.

"What? Do I have something on my face?"

He's painfully aware you're teasing; you don't make a move to wipe your mouth and your smile doesn't falter for a second.

"You're stunning."

He breathes a sigh of relief as words finally find him and your features soften in a way that makes his heart skip a beat.

Despite the stench of stale peanuts and sweat, you still feel like you're in the center of rom-com. There's shitty music playing, yet you hone in on the dizzying rasp of his voice.

"Stunning?" You question, and he nods his head slowly.

"Exquisite, actually. Downright bewitching if I'm being completely honest."

Rafe has never used those words before; he's never seen anyone or anything that warranted them. You most certainly do.

You laugh lightly and in a split second, he makes it his life mission to get that sound out of you as often as possible.

It's a fleeting moment; a blip in the universe, but it feels like an entire lifetime as he studies the look in your eye.

It's a mix between enamored and mischievous, and he can't even begin to comprehend the feeling it gives him.

"Those are big words. I figured someone as gorgeous as yourself would get by on pretty privilege."

He ignores the blush crawling up his neck, tilting his head with a smile of his own.

"Are you saying I look dumb?"

He's used to women being flustered around him, his sense of humor usually throwing them for a loop. You don't miss a beat though, and his stomach does a somersault.

Your head shakes from side to side and he fights the urge to run his fingers through your hair that looks a little too soft to be real.

"No, I'm saying you're attractive enough that you could be dumb and no one would fault you."

His smile only grows at your quick wit and ability to match his energy. He's quickly learning that your tongue is sharp as a knife, and he loves the way it cuts him.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

You study him for a moment, pondering your next words.

"Do you have a name? Or should I just call you pretty boy?"

He pretends to think for a moment before taking a step closer. He's elated when you don't move back, and rests his hand dangerously close to yours on the table.

"Rafe. Though pretty boy works just as well."

He's about to ask you the same when you offer it up on a silver platter.

"I'm Y/N. Though if you have a fitting nickname, you can use that too."

Your voice holds a teasing lilt and he lowers his head so it's only a couple inches from your ear.

"I'm sure I could think of a few."

In fact, he could think of more than a few. He doesn't want to come on too strong though, and much to your displeasure, he backs away just as quickly as he advanced.

He wonders for a second how he hasn't seen you before and worries that you're a touron. It's a fleeting thought, quickly swept away when your hand grazes his.

"Hopefully I get to hear them."

He doesn't miss the lust that causes your voice to turn sultry and shifts a bit as his pants grow tighter.

"Where are you from? I haven't seen you around."

He changes the subject to something more innocent in an attempt to distract himself from his growing arousal and you tsk.

"I'm from right here in OBX, but I didn't go to the academy and I generally stay away from figure eight. I kinda ride the line between kook and pogue."

He nods his head, the decades-long class war nowhere near the forefront of his mind.

"So I take it you know who I am?"

It's a pointless question; anyone who grew up within a twenty-mile radius of Kildare knows his family.

You give a timid smile and nod.

"Yeah, I just didn't want to be too presumptuous. Your reputation kind of precedes you."

His heart sinks as he feels any chance he had with you drifting away.

"So then why are you talking to me?"

There's an underlying sadness in his voice that you catch, and your eyebrows furrow.

"I never believed in judging people without knowing them. Besides, I know that picture-perfect family stuff is bullshit. Everyone has their skeletons."

He straightens up at this, genuinely taken aback at the lack of judgment in your voice.

"And what if I told you the rumors are true? That I am some violent asshole that rains terror on those around me?"

The words leave his mouth before he fully processes them and he kicks himself. Is he trying to scare you away?

Your bubbly smile returns and his breath hitches as you take a step closer.

"I'd say I haven't seen it yet. Besides, underneath the scariest fighters is usually a big softie that's misunderstood."

Rafe's chest squeezes, and he can't believe how in five minutes you've got him figured out better than his lifelong friends.

"You're something special, you know that?"

And he means it. There's a gravitational pull that calls out to him, and despite his usual attempts to push people away with a giant wall lined with barbed wire, he doesn't want to do that with you for even a second.

"So I've been told. Though to be perfectly candid, it means a little more coming from you."

He goes to respond when your attention is ripped away by one of your friends telling you it's time to go.

You turn back to him with an apologetic smile and even though you're still right in front of him, he already misses you.

"Can I get your number?"

He's nervous as he asks, another new revelation. Usually, he's smooth and practiced. However, the idea of you turning him down makes his stomach lurch.

"About time."

He pulls out his phone and watches as you text yourself a heart so you have his number as well before you turn away and saunter off into the night.

Rafe doesn't even make it thirty minutes before texting you, any thoughts about it being too soon overpowered by his desire to see you again.

His heart soars when you respond almost instantly, equally as eager to talk to him.

How's the rest of your night going?

He shoots it off without a second thought, genuinely interested in the answer. He frowns when you text back immediately.

Shitty, to be honest. Got dragged to this party and I'm bored, but don't have a ride home.

He types out his reply and hits send without considering that it may be creepy.

Send me your location, I'll come get you.

He watches as three bubbles pop up and then disappear, that new nerve-racking feeling overtaking him once again.

At the party, you stare down at the screen and contemplate your options. You're really not having a good time, but letting a man you met two hours ago pick you up doesn't seem wise.

Still, something in your core that you can't explain trusts him and you finally answer. You don't bother telling him he doesn't have to, something in you just knows that he doesn't mind.

Rafe jumps off the bar stool and beelines toward his rover when it pops up that you shared your location and he starts toward the address that's wedged between the cut and figure eight.

He hops out and is instantly hit with the stench of beer and weed, loud bass causing his chest to vibrate.

His face scans the crowd for your face as he weaves through drunk idiots doing keg stands and yelling a little too loudly.

He finds it in seconds, and his feet carry him forward as if they have a mind of their own.

You smell him before you see him, his expensive cologne that smells like vanilla and whiskey cutting through the sweat and vodka.

"Hey, pretty girl."

Your heart leaps at the pet name, and you have a feeling it's just the first of many.

"You actually came."

Part of you believed he was bluffing, but you're beginning to realize that when Rafe says something he means it.

"You called."

Something about the simple statement gives you goosebumps. He said it with such conviction; as if he'd find you even if you were across the ocean on another continent.

You shoot your friends a quick text to let them know you're leaving before grabbing your bag and standing.

You try not to focus on the way your skin burns as he places his hand on the small of your back to lead you away, the gesture feeling too natural for someone you don't even know.

Rafe drives you home, comfortable conversation flowing with ease the entire ride.

You try, and fail, not to swoon when he walks you to your door and kisses you on the cheek. You're not usually the type to kiss on the first night, but if he'd asked, you'd have taken him straight up to your room and let him do whatever he wanted.

You fall asleep easily, your psyche filled with images of a blue-eyed man that swept you off your feet.

The next week is filled with non-stop texting and time spent surfing as the two of you grow closer.

You've come to the conclusion that you were right; Rafe is massively misunderstood.

He's confided in you about things he's never told a soul, and as ridiculous as it sounds, you could easily find yourself falling for him.

He's told you all about his abusive father and the pressure he's under, about how his mom died when he was ten, and how he feels like he's always the second choice.

You don't tell him that he'd never be your second choice, how you'd choose him first in a crowd of a hundred million people.

Instead, you lend a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on, something else Rafe has never done before you.

You're sat on the beach between his legs now as sand digs into your bare thighs, but it's a small price to pay to be in his arms.

It's an unusually hot day, the sun rays beating down harshly on your glistening skin. You've just finished surfing, now relaxing as the two of you hydrate with ice-cold Gatorade and much on cheez its.

Your back is pressed into his firm chest comfortably, his free hand snaked around your front and resting just below your belly button.

"You know," he starts and you shift to lay your head so you're peering up at him. His eyes stay focused on the waves ahead, eyes swirling with an emotion you don't recognize.

"I've never met anyone like you. You make me feel safe and calm. All the noise in my head fades away and I'm at peace finally."

He pauses and you wait patiently for him to continue, pressing a chaste kiss to his bare pec as silent encouragement.

"You make me feel special. Like I'm worth it."

Your heart clenches at the admission and you turn around fully so you're seated in his lap. His arms wrap around your waist as if it's second nature, and your hands come up to gently grasp his jaw.

"You are worth it, Rafe. I'm sorry the people who are supposed to love you have made you feel like you aren't."

You don't miss the way tears gather on his waterline and you lean forward slowly, giving him time to pull away.

When he doesn't, you continue and the world stops on his axis as your lips mold with his.

Everything else melts away and your mouths move in sync, only the two do you existing in this little bubble.

Your ears tune out the sounds of seagulls crying and screaming kids, the heat from the unforgiving sun giving way to electricity that sparks every nerve ending in your body.

His tongue tangles with yours, the flavor of spearmint and fruit punch mingling on your tastebuds.

You pull back and give him one last short kiss before returning to your original resting position, both of you desperately attempting to catch your breath.

One month is all it took to officially become Rafe's girlfriend. You told each other your darkest and silliest secrets, quiet whispers and unspoken promises in the dark of the night. He became your best friend and boyfriend, consuming all your senses.

Two months is when you gave yourself to him completely, sweaty bodies writhing in unison under fairy lights and the glow of the moon. You would have given in much sooner, but Rafe insisted on taking it slow, wanting to do it right. You're glad he did, the wait was worth it.

Three months in, you introduce each other to your friends and family. Ward actually took a liking to you immediately, boasting about how good you've been for his son. You found a sister in Sarah, the two of you having girl's days regularly and laughing at Rafe's expense. Your parents and friends accepted Rafe with ease, him finding the father figure he always craved in your dad.

Four months is when you finally said what you've both been feeling since week five. A quiet confession while tangled together as a movie played in the background.

"I'm in love with you." You whisper it so quietly, your voice thick with emotion.

"I'm in love with you too. So much so that it's maddening."

Five months into your whirlwind relationship, the two of you moved in together. Rafe was itching to get away from Tannyhill, and in a shock to you both, Ward offered up one of the estates to be your new home.

It's your safe space, a perfect combination of the two of you with carefully chosen throw pillows and pictures lining the walls.

Six months is when you knew without a shadow of a doubt you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Rafe by your side. The two of you are well established now, the honeymoon phase long past and replaced with a much sturdier and ironclad love and respect.

Seven months in, Rafe surprised you with a two-week-long vacation. It's an all-inclusive trip to Italy, the time spent sightseeing and eating local cuisine that still makes your mouth water.

Eight months is how long it took for him to convince you to quit your job and let him take care of you. It doesn't take much persuading by this point, you know that he's not going anywhere and you trust him when he says you'll never lift a finger again.

Nine months in, he takes you on another trip; this time a month-long adventure in Greece. You see the world and he buys you anything you show the slightest interest in. You're happy and comfortable, more content with your life than you ever imagined.

Ten months after your chance meeting, he buys you a new car. He'd absolutely insisted that you deserve the best of the best and your old beat-up Civic doesn't meet the mark. You cried, and the two of you drove up the coast for a blissful long weekend.

Eleven months is when Rafe planned an elaborate party and dropped to one knee. You nearly collapsed with joy as he placed the four-carat Cartier diamond on your left hand and celebrated with your closest friends and family.

That night was spent in bed talking about the future, shared desires of having kids, and settling in OBX. It took you a while to wrap your head around the fact that at just twenty-one and twenty-two years old, you'd found the one you belong with.

Twelve months after your friends forced you to go out, you eloped and married your best friend. One year is all it took for you to believe in soulmates, and become a Cameron. In 365 days, your life did a 180 and you're married with a new Lexus and a house that's more than you could have dreamed of.

But really, all it took was ten seconds for your life to change forever.

#Rafe Cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #outer banks

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aconflagrationofmyown · 1 year

Text

but then… Gigi

chapter one (a Big Daddy Elvis fanfic)

Summary: this is a fix-it universe to catch all the feelings I have for this man in the late 70’s. It’s gonna be my least impressive, least dramatic, very plotless, indulgently meandering and self soothing fic that fixes all things through *love* -it’s gonna be so fluffy we might as well cure cancer and invent time travel while we are at it. That being so, and after all the joy that has come from y’all’s interactive prompts and suggestions with Sarge, I welcome any suggestions or prompts y’all might have as this universe expands. I hope you enjoy and this can provide a sweet little escape 🌷💋

Warnings: 18+ this universe is and will be mature due to sexual themes and drug mentions. In this chapter there are discussions about attractiveness, hinted unwanted advances in the past, some mild possible objectification, talking of weight gain and sugar babies, female masturbation with non orthodox self pleasure tools (and cherry coke didn’t come out for another two years shhh)

Special thanks to: my sugar babies @stylespresleyhearted whose pure hearted love for this concept is responsible for its very existence in the first place and her co-conspirator @eliseinmemphis . And as always, to my discord wives who forever back up all my endeavors and fuel my fire @ab4eva @elvisabutler @butlersxbirdy

Circa: early summer 1977, Memphis Tennessee

Word count: an astoundingly moderate 5k

There is a set and type of girls most likely to catch the eye of the most internationally famed rock star on the planet, and it isn’t self pity or self deprecation that makes Gigi acknowledge that she doesn’t quite fit that type. She considers it good fortune enough to run in circles that boast a number of the brazen, flirty and seemingly fearless young sort who can traipse up to Elvis Presley’s sleek Stutz window and, bending themselves over an unnecessary but effectively exposing amount, extract from him a cheeky invitation to a Graceland party.

Elvis is fond of this type, their vivacity and their audacity, even their ceaseless giggles and yes, the availability they clothe themselves with. They remind him of those girls who’d nearly break down his motel door in the early years. The ones that used to scare him shitless even as he fell prey to their perfume and painted lips, their milky soft hands sporting red hot talons that often as not hooked him down to hell with them.

As of late, he finds himself accepting any damn company he can get, after months of pushing company away. It’s a cycle and when he’s fresh outta reclusion he finds he’s probably a little liberal with the invites but it doesn’t matter. He’s still relieved and gratified that he is wanted and loved enough by his fellow Memphians that they’ll accost him on the street, lean into his window, all bubblegum and boobs, and ask for autographs and if he’s interested in some company.

He may be slowing down here lately, as his body and mind and the newspapers remind him constantly, but pretty young things are still one of life’s sweet pleasures, and even if he can’t give as much as he used to, at this rate he’s glad for anyone who’ll drag him out of the slump. Even if he’s more of a museum sort of attraction for them than the living wonder they once claimed he was. Maybe it’s this morbid understanding of these little floozie’s motivations that has him grinning along and offering a free invite for game night, all the while glancing past them to where she stands at a distance behind the giggling gaggle. Her limbs are strong but soft, her face beguiling yet oh so innocent and her posture is leant forward in unscripted eagerness to maybe catch a glimpse of him past her gaggle of friends. She has her hands clasped nervously in front of her -unconsciously highlighting the way the wind whips her thin sundress between her thighs and outlines her perfectly- and it’s adorable the way her sensible keds are scuffing the sidewalk rhythmically until she feel his gaze on her.

The minute Gigi senses his authoritative assessment of her over those tinted shades, her pretty little brain makes her snap to attention, aimless for a minute before falling back on ingrained rules of conduct. She has no seductive artifice, no hip cock or calculated smirk. Gone is the sneaker scuffing and the lip chewing and instead her back snaps straight up like a debutant, feet planted, hands unclasping, shoulders back and tits forward. Elvis thinks her mother, if she’s got one, would be very proud of her social graces. Personally, he is very admiring of those pert nipples straining the cloth, and proud of the eager tremble rustling her in the summer breeze just by a flick of his eyes over her fresh baked womanhood. But maybe it’s the red hot blush under the afternoon sun and the hesitant but almost giddy little wave she gives him that cements the fond flutter he feels in chest into a raging affection.

Falling in affection for a stranger is stupid, dumb and terribly risky. And not at all likely to be requited in the way he craves so badly these days. He knows this, it’s happened before. It’s best to stick to the gals who’ll fawn over his car window and maybe dance together for him later on. But golly, wouldn’t it be nice to pat a cheek that fresh and watch it turn rosier under an ole man’s admiration?

He pulls his cigar out to smile at her, because she deserves a full lipped, white teeth gleaming smile -his ole moneymaker. It still has its intended effect, it makes Gigi beam and her waving little hand clench in excitement. She even does a little bunny hop in place and the way the glorious young shape of her bounces under the demure sundress is all kinds of tonic to a tired fella’s heart.

It’s a lot to take, the way this certified legend ducks and peers past her gaggle of friends at his window to give her not only his attention but that most delightful of grins. The one that is deceptively bashful over being so admired. Gigi would be a pants on fire liar if she didn’t admit that she’s watched enough footage and poured over enough magazine spreads of the man through the eras to nearly swoon under the real life shimmer of it.

And she knows, vaguely, that she’s acting air headed in the way she trembles and bounces but that’s all she’s got, these natural responses, never was good at faking much of anything she feels, and certainly not when she was decidedly embarrassed. Which she was now -what with the way his smile is boyishly fond, his demeanor fatherly and his eyes lewdly assessing. There’s not a bit of the masculine spectrum he isn’t embodying at this moment and her body betrays her by submissively tremoring under his gaze alone. What would a touch be like?

Such slack mouthed, nipple tingling, body electrifying thoughts get interrupted when the myth himself points a bejeweled finger at her -one that is slender and lean and elegant in contrast to the bulk burdening the rest of him- and asks in a meltingly soft voice:

“You any good at charades, sweet cheeks?”

Even if she were terrible at the game, even if she didn’t know how to play it at all, the hopeful raise of his eyebrows would make her lie, hand on the Bible to this Hollywood trained actor, that she was the best charade player the world has ever seen. Her reply in the affirmative is overly confident due to sheer nerves and eagerness, and she vigorously bobs her head to add unneeded emphasis. It makes her beauty queen friends giggle and laugh good naturedly and to his relief she joins in, a hand flying up in humiliation to shut that glossy, pink mouth.

It’s so clumsy and natural a reaction that Elvis’ pointed finger twitches from a desire to tickle her, to watch her writhe from something besides embarrassment. He mourns that she’s standing so far from the window. At least the distance has given him a good view of her from the top of her shiny widdle head to the sole of her itty bitty footsies.

Plans are made at the window, Lamar is to send a car and apparently the lot of them will all be at Dinah’s house for pickup and Gigi tries to get a little closer to overhear these details but the crowd of girlfriends is a few bodies deep and there’s fans gathering, too. So she learns the logistics later, when everyone has finished homework and shifts and are primping in Dinah’s upstairs bedroom, hairspray and nail polish fumes thick in the air, and voices nearly hysterical in pitch from excitement.

-It worked! It worked! It worked! We are going to party at Graceland! Elvis Presley invited us to spend the evening!-

There’s a lot of different reasons for excitement, some of the girls are just curious to see the icon’s home, some are talking of how envious their older sisters (even some mothers) will be over them meeting their crush, others are hoping the scene is as debauched as the rumors would have the world believe, an opportunity to taste drugs and that rock n roll lifestyle for a brief shining evening. Marie asks if they think he’ll make them do naughty, dirty, sexy things for him and that brings up fresh tittering and salacious hearsay regarding his appetites and tastes. Someone deflates that mood by saying that he might just be a dirty old man now, it’s not quite the same as going to his house a few years ago. At forty years old he’s ancient to them. What with his declining health and being a recluse and -what if he lures girls and then murders them? Oh god, the urban legends come out, he’s a vampire, he’s a serial killer, he’s this and he’s that and-

Gigi thinks he’s awfully generous. That’s what she thinks. Inviting strangers into his home. And not just pretty young things. She personally knows folks who he’s helped, the downtrodden and the dehoused and the disadvantaged. She’s grown up in churches and schools and municipalities he’s funded. He practically provided for her and all of Memphis like an omniscient father figure these past three decades. And now there’s this kindhearted invite which most seem to consider akin to a ticket to a Carnival.

As she lets the girls fluff her hair and spritz her in perfume, adding an extra coat of mascara to her lashes -stultifying her if she’s being honest- she gives a brief thought to whether, just maybe, this will be a decadent night after all.

Elvis is still Elvis. It can’t be all hearsay. And for someone like her, who’s been a good student and a decent worker and hasn’t gone chasing every wicked, back alley experience available in Memphis, she frets a little that maybe inside that iconic mansion tonight she’ll lose something that’s been preserved so far.

Innocence? Maybe. But she thinks her greatest concern is that maybe he’ll prove to be something less warm and darling and extraordinary than that brief exchange on the sidewalk and years of idolizing have convinced her that he is. All this talk of him that floats around her makes her feel faintly ill, the morbid curiosity and the vulgar interest. No wonder he secludes himself.

The car arrives, decadent and alluring like its owner, and driving it is one of the many trusted minions of the king. There might not be seatbelts for every girl here but that doesn’t seem to matter, Gigi happily offers up her lap to Tammy and teases her that Tammy is her safety belt and Gigi is her booster seat. It’s a jolly ride, banter being made with the front seat fella who’s name she has to ask for about five times before Tammy takes pity and informs her he’s “George Klein”. Gigi gets a schooling in the back seat about his radio show and once again Gigi is reminded why Tammy is ‘Miss Memphis’ and she’s not. The babble of voices calms down long enough for Mr. Klein to lay down some ground rules before the car pulls through the gates.

The rules are shockingly normal: stay downstairs, make yourselves at home and but don’t behave like asses, don’t shy away from approaching your host, the last thing he likes is awkwardness or standoffish coolness in his own home. Gigi is rather certain that with her nerves and hero adoration she can manage not being stuck up or acting above it all, but she’s not at all sure she’s gonna manage to not be as awkward as a newborn duckling.

Graceland through the gates is not an unfamiliar sight to most of them, but Graceland up close, caressed in the inky dark of night from inside by golden fingertips of light, is magical. As is the atmosphere inside the place, though that may be more a case of her knowing where she was, rather than anything particularly incredible occurring in the opulent space. Despite the change of clothes to a slinky little number and the fluffed blowout that her more cultured friends gave her in consideration of the evening, Gigi can’t help but feel underdressed for a night in this gaudy Antebellum Establishment. Extra mascara and expensive perfume feels inadequate to match the gold and crimson and white furnishings. If Belle Watling had a home, Gigi reckons it would look rather like this.

That old worry returns that tonight might devolve into being the most debauched of her young life, that maybe she’s stepped into a hospitable bordello, so exotic and seductive are the furnishings alone. But to her surprise, seated on crimson curved couches, and already heatedly invested in a game of charades, is a friendly looking group of men and their wives. They have to be wives, the Mafia’s wives -they look so respectable, so relaxed lounging in Elvis’ Presley’s home. There’s differing ages here, middle and younger and all in between, and a man she’s rather certain is Elvis’ own father. It’s respectable, to her immense relief and confusion.

“Ah, here comes the fresh young blood!” One of the group says and it’s a bit chaotic then, half the group invested in keeping up the game and the other set rather eager to abandon their losing streak to offer welcomes and refreshment.

She lets the bodies swirl around her, a strange feeling of being a little left out taking over her without a single rudeness on the part of anyone present justifying the feeling. It irks her that she's so skittish, it just seems that everyone somehow falls in with another or ten and the established groups begin games or snacking or talking without her and she stands alone in the human eddy watching it all happen so effortlessly.

What’s entirely unexpected a half hour or more into this friendly pandemonium is a playful tap on her shoulder and turning round to find their host himself, clad in a comfy tracksuit, unzipped sufficiently low to display a devout amount of crosses shimmering on sweat slick skin and wearing shades even indoors. He’s asking if she’d like a drink.

“Oh -Elvis!” is a stupid thing to say in reply to his felicitations but it’s all Gigi can manage in such close proximity to his warm smile, his unzipped jacket and his heady scent. He looks her over, taking in the way her friends have erased the fresh faced ingenue on the sidewalk and made her into a sex doll and it takes supreme self discipline to not reach out and wipe some of it off. His scrutiny is making her nervous but she does at last manage to scramble out, “Yes, thank you, Mr. Presley, that would be lovely -it’s lovely of you to have us and your home is so unbelievably lovely, and I can’t believe we’re here, I’ve admired you for so long and -I, I’m only 20 and can’t drink.”

The word vomit robs her of breath and Gigi sucks it back in with a painful wince -she just declined a drink and proclaimed herself a complete goody two shoes, a perfect square, to the King himself. Her face flames hot and the heavy coating of lashes flutters from eye watering embarrassment.

Elvis just tilts his head to the side and gives her sweet face the appreciative study of a blush connoisseur, his grin growing impossibly wider and a little wolfish,

“Well, darlin, I’m a lil over 21 but I don’t drink ‘neither.”

“Really?” Ggi ventures in utter surprise, and that must’ve been redeeming on her part as his smile shifts from wolfish to fond before giving a tight nod,

“I was offerin’ lemonade, or sweet tea, but I think-“ and here he steps back, surveying her head to toe in the gauzy halter dress her friends snazzed her up in, “I think, yeah, yeah, ‘think you’re a cherry coke kinda girl.”

“I’m whatever you say, sir!” Gigi salutes him like a idiot because she’s had never had a cherry coke in her life or been assessed by a powerful man and she is quickly forgetting to be shy when so bewildered by his heavy lidded assessment-

“Yeah,” he nods, satisfied after another survey of the god crafted entirety of her, “Cherry coke for you, I think, lil Miss.”

He doesn’t fetch it, someone else in this crowded place does and it comes with the ordered white straw and she sips the carbonated beverage with a bashful smile, trying to think of something sensible to say in thanks when being looked at like that by the man who having fulfilled his host duties slowly moves away to recline in a decadent crimson armchair.

“Go on now, you’re here to have some fun, sweet cheeks.” he waves her down to the floor where many others are sprawled writing dares and acts, and she settles where he directs her, right by his leg until it’s her turn.

Once she moves to the mantle and acts out her turn, once it’s successfully guessed, she’s a little at a loss as to where to go. It feels presumptive somehow to sit by him again. So she sits by Dee instead, and feels a fool five seconds later, knowing it’s just nerves and shyness keeping her from a chance at sitting by such an extraordinary hero for what’s probably the best night of her life.

Ever.

Gigi wouldn’t get this chance again and yet she decided to act like an awkward idiot for fear of acting like a -what? Cling on? Groupie? It was just his leg, his beefy, muscled, thick leg beside her, and the heat of his body and the little noises of amusement coming from him. But it made her feel like she was burning up inside, it felt intimate, it felt like she should be between those legs and surrounded by his bulk. Like between his thighs would be the cleft in the rock to hide from this vast world that she’d been looking for all her life.

He was just domestic and kind, and she had to make it weird. Tammy’s unimpressed eye roll at her doesn't help matters. Soon the left side of Gigi’s face begins to burn and out of desperation she finally turns to face Elvis and finds him staring straight at her, her abandoned, half-drunk cola being jostled in his hand like a carrot for a horse. His eyebrow beckons, she blushes harder, he keeps shaking the damn thing and ducking his head with that coaxing grin. She rises and crouches through the partiers and moves back to her place at his feet.

“Here ya go.” he says mildly as she settles, nothing mentioned of the command and obedience just enacted.

He just gives Gigi her coke back, his rings clanking on the glass and fingers brushing hers during the handover. She chokes on her next sip when he pats the top of her head. Fatherly, if her father had ever been one for pats and noticing her existence. Unfettered, Elvis’ hand slides down the glossy brushed out length of her hair, to pat her back as she gasps out her shock, somehow making things worse but oh so lovely. She dares to lean back into that caressing hand, finds herself leaning against his leg by proxy, finding herself lulled and squirmy all at once.

Charades at Elvis Presley’s house are very much the same as at anyone else’s, and strangely Gigi finds that simultaneously the most bizarre and adorable thing imaginable. There is, however, a good deal more betting and hollering than would be permissible in most households, and she finds herself enacting dubious scenes with a shockingly plentiful array of cousins and fellow guests, but altogether it’s wholesome and lively and joyous. It seems a bit rigged when Tammy, fresh off winning Miss Memphis, has to enact the white dress subway scene of Marylin Monroe -made snort worthy humorous when an ancient creature, who Gigi has on good cousinly authority is Elvis’ grandmother, provides the wind to blow up Tammy’s flimsy excuse of a dress to her upper thighs. Flashing panties as is the iconic scene.

In a weak moment Gigi tilts her head to see Elvis’ reaction to her friend's beauty, and she doesn't miss the way he guffaws around his cigar at the sight of those award winning stems. Though she doubts it’s his first sight of them, they’ve been plastered all over TV and newspapers ever since Tammy won the damn thing a few months ago. Best body and face in the state. Gigi’s primped up face and heavy coated lashes and gauzy dress suddenly feel like an attempt to mimic something she wasn’t cut out for. Self consciously she tugs at the hem of the short skirt.

Tammy flashes Elvis a wink and shimmies in a mouth watering tease before sitting opposite the two of them, legs crossed and hardly a bit left to the imagination.

Elvis keeps grinning. Tammy licks her lips. Gigi finishes her coke and vaguely recalls the fact that the man is supposedly dating one of Tammy’s rivals from the pageant, or a sister of or a- Gigi doesn’t recall really, and she can be sure that between the way he’s stroking her own sun streaked locks and eye sexing Tammy opposite, the man sure doesn't act taken.

Watching Billy Smith try to act out a cheetah giving birth takes her mind off such self pitying introspection, and before she knows it, the gaudy foyer clock is ringing out 1:00 am.

Homework and college has been running Gigi a little ragged and eventually her little head begins to droop against his leg and the way the empty coke bottle starts to slip from her weak grip catches his attention. He slowly raises his hand from where it was resting ever so lightly on her shoulder and caresses her neck. To his immense relief Gigi leans into his patting eager as a housecat, and it makes him glad. Just as much as it makes him worry.

Only twenty years old and so easily lulled.

“You got a curfew, lil one?” he asks her with concern and that startles Gigi, his warm breath hot against her ear and the grunt of him folding himself over his sizable belly to get down near her face.

“No sir. Not really.” She admits, overly respectful in her sleepy state, “My parents aren’t really into stuff like that. They are pretty liberal that way. And I live with Tammy.”

She gives him an assuring smile even as she stifles a yawn, and two things flash across his mind. This means he (or God forbid, any man) could have her over here at his whim without excuses being made. And secondly, Elvis really must look out for her so that she doesn’t fall into the company of any such other men.

There’s no precedent for a Graceland party to wind down before dawn, but he considerately asks her if she’s got classes tomorrow. The honest way Gigi nods her droopy head and moans “yeah” has his heart clenching and his fingers flex, he wants to put her to bed. His bed, he thinks, though that’s a rather dastardly thought. Really though, he’d like to wrap himself around her and hold her and tell her he’d care very much whether or not she came home late from a stranger's house. That he’d be worried sick about so sweet and darling a little treasure if she were his. He’s got a sneaking suspicion that he’ll care no matter what, his or no.

Instead, he interrupts the game to have Lamar drive her home. Tammy and a few others, noticeably the ones who look like all night partiers, stay longer.

Gigi gets another pat on the head and a commendation to do well on her grades and that’s that.

Gigi last sees him standing in his foyer, jeweled chains gleaming in the nest of his chest hair and a boyish smile on his face, Dinah coming up behind to wave her farewell. Tammy is back there, too, probably going to get up to all sorts of fun while she gets sent home like a child. Wistfully, even as she walks down his drive to her ride, Gigi wishes she had hugged him goodbye. Gushed with more than just words in thanks for the invite, maybe even buried her face there in his chest, just once in that safe haven, sweat and jewels against her cheek. He had seemed to care.

But she wasn’t not that type though, was she? Brazenness was something that always felt awkward to her and landed her splat into uncomfy situations where college boys peered into the women’s locker room and jacked off to the sight of her legs as she tried to change into her track shorts.

The frenzy she often felt in her body to be touched would immediately die in situations such as having her hand clumsily moved up and down a penis in the dark of a movie theater. Or groped over her dress by the drunk jocks she tried to experiment with. Gigi could feel her own potential simmering hot and fervent inside, ready to be appreciated and let out like a fizz from a corked bottle. It was cruel that a fatherly sorta hero was the one to make her finally feel like she would take riding that man’s shoe over the most romantic gesture from one of her many age-appropriate admirers.

If she were Tammy, she wouldn’t have inspired the literal king of rock n roll to send her to bed. If she were Tammy she’d have made a move and said “damn that mythical absentee girlfriend” and would now be flat on her back getting obscenely used by that gorgeous hunk of a man.

Instead, deposited safely home by Lamar and tucked back in her shared flat, Gigi stares at her made up face with adamant animosity. It’s a fine face, she’s been told that plenty and she’s been told she’s smart, but it’s not really inviting the attention she suddenly wants so badly. Maybe she should have worn falsies to add to the effect. Maybe her features and coloring are too light. Tammy’s bleach blonde hair does not occur to her as being a strike against this logic. Instead Gigi thinks of pouring over photos of raven haired Pricilla as a girl and marveling at the thick mask Elvis crafted for her, wonders why she can’t be that kind of girl. She’s not petite, or glamorous or particularly coquettish, but she’d ride that man till he needed IV fluids if he’d just let her.

But he chose Tammy.

Dunking her face into the sink, Gigi scrubs away the artificial bloom until she’s left pink and freckled and so decidedly innocent looking it makes her wanna claw her cheeks to shreds.

“Lil one.”

The way he’d cooed it had turned her insides to jelly and ignited thoughts of her own sizable frame being made small while smothered beneath his sturdy breadth but now it turns her angry, and in the shower she lathers herself and wishes maybe her parents had given a shit about her catching a man instead of being “all she could be” because now at twenty she’s eyeing up the bulbous shape of her Lemon Up shampoo bottle and wondering if she’s big girl enough to take it. He was so big, so bulky and sturdy and muscly with padding to boot, and she’s just so sure his cock has got to match the thighs. A bulky, chubby thing, too, probably. The sort only girls like Tammy can manage.

She wants to be that sorta girl.

Gigi grabs at the bottle. She wrenches the shower handle to off, her wet body bolting for her bed, a jar of Vaseline in her other hand and savage lust in her heart. Halfway to the bed she realizes the shampoo bottle is almost empty and she wants to cry at that. She does stomp her chilled feet like a child and whines. What she needs is weight, her subconscious provides, everything about him was heavy and wonderfully big and she needs more than a hollow bottle to mimic him. She runs back to the shower and grabs at the conditioner, same ginormous shape and this time it’s fully loaded and heavy in her hand and she races back to bed, happy to dive under the covers with her dripping hair and goosefleshed skin.

Tammy has toys to achieve this, Gigi knows from sightings of them being washed in their communal bathroom sink. Pink and veiny and some that even buzz and it was all very funny and silly to come across them when she needed to wash her hands, but right now Gigi wants nothing to do with them, the stupidly large and bulky shaped conditioner bottle not even phasing her. Because it’s hers and not Tammy’s -Tammy who is probably getting railed but Elvis Presley right now. His cockhead probably isn’t shaped like the bottom of a lemon, but it’s gotta be round and this bottle will have to do.

It doesn't do. She lathers on the Vaseline to add to the sticky want she already has pooling, she rubs herself to a frenzy and as her hand cramps she tries putting the oiled up bottle up her channel and finds it’s really just impossible. It’s burns and won’t give and she berates herself and begs a man called “daddy” that she can barely admit to herself is Elvis to “give it to her” and curses Tammy for having a big vagina. She tries and tries with ever increasing anguish and frustration as the clock ticks towards three am and valuable sleeping hours are wasted as she tries to slip more than the crown of the lemon bottle into her untried cunt.

“Give it to me please, please daddy I can

take it.” Gigi insists to the shampoo bottle and her wrist manfully attempts to shove it in after slipping it along her folds for ages.

But it won’t go and she screams more and begs more and cries more and ends up seizing her stuffed valentine's bear -gifted to her by the football team's running back- and rubs herself raw in its button nose. It’s not the first time, but for once her sticky satisfaction doesn’t come to the thought of tiny white shorts ocean wet and clinging to him, or svelte white jumpsuits and chiseled jawline grinning promise. She digs her fingers into the stuffy’s fur and thinks of a hairy chest glistening with sweat and chains jingling with noisy exhales and the smell of him. Oh god the manly smell of him! - and the quiet authority that had her sitting at his feet and having her head petted and being sent home like a child. He acted like he cared for her and could find some use for her and she wets the poor bear’s muzzle at the thought of him telling her that her purpose is to keep him happy.

Worn out and trembling from her orgasm she rolls off the poor stuffed animal and buries her face in her pillow and dreams of warmth.

Outside Gigi’s door, arrested in her trip to the bathroom by shrieks of “daddy” and curses of her own name, Tammy shakes her head in disbelief and grins to herself through her whole nightly routine.

“Why were you cussing me out last night?” Tammy asks her placidly next morning, “Are you jealous of your daddy’s attention being split?”

Gigi groans at Tammy’s mischievous smile and realizes her mistake with a blush, “You didn’t- last night you came back? He didn’t keep you?”

“No, he didn’t.” Tammy agrees through her wheezing laughs and Gigi tries to aim a kick at her shins in mortification. “He was quite the gentleman in fact,” she expounds, “Except for the fact he spent the rest of our time asking me questions about you. I told him he’d lost all his raisin’ talking to a lady about another lady. Made a girl feel like a damn directory.”

“Oh, oh I’m sorry.” Gigi tries to suppress her thrill enough to sympathize with a no doubt annoying event. “You must’ve felt left out.”

Tammy pauses in thought for a bit. “He’s very….sweet.” Is Tammy’s verdict and to Gigi’s incredulity she sounds a little disappointed. “I mean, didn’t you think he was just sorta, ya know, nice?” Tammy presses.

Gigi thinks of the way his hand felt stroking her hair, the care about her curfew, the lack of alcohol, the endearments, the sturdy meat of his thigh against her shoulder. All the things that had made her rub herself puffy with a shampoo bottle that is still hidden under her covers. Yes, he seemed very sweet, and she was desperately in love with a man she’d never see again, who seemed a bit bashful about being “discount bargain Elvis” when all she could think of was how nurturing and mischievous he was.

He just seemed -shy. Bizarrely enough. And she could sympathize with that. Laying here on Tammy’s bed watching the dust motes dance in the afternoon sun when she should be studying, she thinks she’s solved Elvis Presley.

He’s shy.

“I thought he was precious.” Gigi agrees with Tammy, though her tone holds a reverence that makes the beauty queen of Memphis’ head spin in a near 180 to observe her now flaming cheeks. It seems the man has that effect on Gigi, present or not.

“Well, well.” Pretty, sultry, darling Tammy hasn’t a malicious bone in her body but she takes delight in making Gigi squirm, “You sound enchanted!”

“He was sweet!” Gigi protests, using her words against her.

“Yeah, he was.” she agrees, her perfectly tweezed brows drawing together for a moment before an epiphany dawns on her, “But I think it’s a means to an end.”

“What do you mean by that?” She balks, fervent in her conviction that it wasn’t an act. In fact, Gigi was certain he was more himself in his own home last night than ever on a stage.

“It’s making sense now.” she starts to pace the room, “He’s an outrageous flirt, you saw him, flirting with everyone he wasn’t related to that night, but he was so sweet to you- hmm, I think he wants to baby you.”

“Baby me?” Gigi repeat, staring up at the ceiling and feeling that flutter in her belly, just from the idea of him having *any* design on little ole her. “What’s- what even is that?” She asks her, a little hopeful, content to get her education from Tammy on this just as she has on all the more mechanical and dynamical aspects of sex and men.

“It means turning you into his baby.” she laughs, like it’s the most obvious thing, “Would probably put a little chain round your neck saying ‘belongs to Elvis Presley’ or something, and in turn spoil you rotten. At least, that’s how it’s worked for the others. It’s what he’s trying with Ginger but she’s got an independent streak.”

Ginger. The others. Of course there had been others. And yet he was so lonely again, already so lonely she was sure of it. Lonely in his own home, what was worse than that? “I wouldn’t mind being his baby.” Gigi mutters, bashful at the fact that what was essentially a future of house arrest, a portly sugar daddy and head pats makes her shiver delightfully.

“You sure about that?” Tammy suddenly seems overly earnest for a conversation in her room on a Thursday evening about a hypothetical scenario where Elvis Presley takes an interest in Gigi.

“Yes.” She gives it the full, weighty two seconds of thought it deserves. “And if all I get out of it is polishing his guns and feeding him yogurt then I’d honestly be happier than studying political science.” She makes a face as she registers the homework currently crinkling somewhere under her lower back.

“So you get that the sex probably isn’t exactly legendary anymore, right? Like -you saw him.” only Tammy, beautiful, southern pageant winner that she is, with the manner to accompany the looks, could say such a thing without Gigi socking her.

She’s looking out for her, just as she looked out for her with the sub par debate President that Gigi went to prom with and found insufferable after two weeks. She thinks Gigi needs to just keep trying the field (like her, Gigi presumes) until she finds the magical unicorn that will blow her mind in bed and satisfy her curious brain.

At this point in life, she’d settle for a man who chooses her drinks for her and cares enough about her well being to get her home by his own, invented curfew. Maybe she wants a father, what with hers being liberal to the point of carelessness, but she’d settle for a daddy, happily. “Tammy,” she says very slowly, trying to distill all these emotions down into something convincing -because strangely she feels a dire need to convince Tammy of her devotion even in this hypothetical scenario- “Tammy, if he gave a crap about me and paid my student loans, I’m pretty sure I could get off by just watching him smile at the way I make a fool of myself. And if that wasn’t enough, then I’d rub myself raw on his hairy belly. -you get me?”

Tammy looms above her, upside down in her view with her blown out bleached hair, heavy coaled eyes and shimmery mouth, studying Gigi for a minute before bursting out laughing. “You really meant that bit about his belly, didn’t you?”

“Yup.” Gigi mutters, throat thick and heart pounding -somewhere else pounds, too- at the very thought of being that intimate with him, that nasty sticky sweet with him. “Why are we talking about this anyway?” She whines, having worked herself up enough she’s damp and actually a little heartbroken knowing that if anything, Tammy is the one he’d go for.

“I got a call from George Klein this morning.” she spins away and busies herself in the closet, rummaging for shoes, Gigi thinks.

“Oh?” She asks, trying to keep the waiver out of her voice as she sits up and watches Tammy as she digs.

“Yeah, we got invited back.” she says, and turns on her award winning haunches to raise a significant eyebrow at Gigi, “All of us. And then, it was specified, you too.” she watches Gigi’s panicked, hopeful blush coat her face and chest.

“What exactly did he say, Tammy?” she demands, forcing herself not to gnaw on her fingernails, having to remember these nails might be in Graceland by the end of the week.

“He said that ‘E.P. wants to make sure the old gang knew they were welcome again, and the invite is only contingent on “Miss cherry coke” coming’.” she sits fully back on her butt now just to fully appreciate the way Gigi hyperventilates. “Cherry coke, huh?” she teases, “Did you ask for that just to be as euphemistic as possible or do you actually favor the drink?”

“He chose it.” Gigi whimpers, scuffing her keds together because it’s either that or her thighs.

“Oh god.” Tammy sounds like some guys do when their team makes a dirty, dirty interception that ends in a touchdown, “What did I say? Baby you, he wants to baby you! Oh my god, like he’s sweet but that’s -that’s nasty honey, just know that’s a nasty little thing to do.” she insists before turning back to her closet and digging through the dozens of pairs again.

Gigi flops back on her back and tries to think of the deep seated meaning behind cherries, and fails to do more than buzz in hopeless nervous anticipation at going back to that warm and kind and slightly bizarre haven that is Elvis Presley and his home.

Hope y’all enjoyed and if you wanna be tagged let me know. I live off your screams and your pestering, y’all are each precious to me!

Xoxo 🌷 Marina

@prompted-wordsmith

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basilly · 2 years

Text

i love you

sypnopsis: the different ways they say "i love you"

includes: tsukkishima, atsumu, akaashi, osamu, & kita

warnings: wc 865, swearing, no pronouns mentioned

creds to @sixosix for these prompts

tsukishima kei | “you're a dumbass"

now who would he be if he just outright said "i love you"? he shows his affection through relentless teasing- all out of love though.

"kei... i accidentally ran into the table." "what-"

you rubbed your hip, in attempt to soothe the pain. tsukishima stared at you in disbelief.

"it's?? a massive table y/n" "okay and i have ZERO self awareness" "were you looking at your phone?" "... maybe.... look i was listening to that song you sent me-"

tsukishima starts chuckling before wrapping his arms around you. a small yet fond smile grows on his face.

"you're a dumbass"

miya atsumu | “you could punch me in the face and i would still want you ngl.”

atsumu gets under your skin very often- he has a talent for doing so. but you can't help but adore and love him, he's your precious boyfriend.

you rubbed your temples, trying to register what atsumu was saying. you thought he had been trying to tell you something miniscule.

"'sumu, pause. what are you rambling about?" "i just- i lost the bracelet you gave me and i tried to find it all day, and i thought you'd be mad at me and-"

you almost frowned at the way he was so scared to tell you he lost the bracelet you gave him- which, was like four years ago. you were surprised he had kept it this long.

"oh 'sumu, you should've told me. it's okay, honestly we've had them for so long we should probably get new ones." ".. you're not mad? your not going to like- smack my head?"

you cup his cheeks, placing a small kiss on his nose.

"of course not." "okay- but for the record, you could punch me in the face and i could still want you."

akaashi keiji | “i trust you. it’s okay.”

akaashi takes special care for his things. they may be well worn, but he magically keeps them in good condition. he will always let you borrow his things, but you do try to keep it exactly how you took it.

"are you sure keiji?"

you carefully caressed a gently worn book in your hands. it was his favorite book- you never got the chance to read it with everything in your life going on, but your schedule was finally calming down.

you were a little worried when he offered it for you to borrow. you already decided you're not going to let any liquids near it and keep it in a plastic bag. whenever you could.

to akaashi, he would let you borrow everything from him- no matter what is was. he placed his hands over yours and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before looking you in the eye.

"i trust you, it's okay. you can borrow whatever you need from me anytime."

miya osamu | “hey…” [hesitates] “be safe, alright?”

osamu is a worrier, an overthinker. he's cautious when you go out at night alone- he doesn't want you to be in a dangerous situation. but as simply best friends, he is in no place to intrude on your decisions.

"okay- i'll be back in a little bit, just heading to the convenience store." "what? this late?"

he sat back against the couch cushions, reading up on a new cookbook. he had come over again for your weekly movie night but the movie was long over by now. turning his attention to you, he took in your appearance once more.

seeing you- in a comfortable setting, full of domesticity, made his heart ache. he thought of the many times he could have confessed, but he wouldn't ruin anything you had to take the risk.

thus, his "i love you"'s are hidden behind words, actions, and gifts. not that you would ever notice, he hopes.

“hey…” [hesitates] “be safe, alright?”

for now he would hide, thinking of how he's too much of a coward.

kita shinsuke | “this—” [points at their chest] “—this belongs to you. always.”

he never hid his feelings to you- always straightforward, to the point your legs almost gave out. he never failed to make your face feel hot, ears almost catching fire out of embarassment.

"are you sure you don't want to come?" "it's atsumu's bachelor party! i couldn't"

you sat on the bed, watching kita button up his shirt. atsumu had planned to take his groomsmen to a nearby club- his fiance had immediately shut down the idea of a strip club (which you were glad for). fiddling with your fingers, you couldn't help but sit there anxiously.

"i can just stay home if you don't like the idea of me going."

you sigh before meeting his eye.

"no- it's okay, really."

a moment of silence passed before you spoke up again, timidly.

".. but what if a really pretty girl came up to you?"

kita almost laughed out loud, pausing from finishing up his tie to walk over to you. kneeling in front of you, he took your hands in his.

"y/n. this- "

he gentured to his chest, right at his heart.

"-- belongs to you. always. and this-"

he taps your engagement ring.

"solidifies it."

you laugh out of embarassment, smooshing your face in his neck.

"okayokay."

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demxters · 10 months

Note

☆ for blurb night requests; double date with Nat and Javy! The boys would be like "hey, we got this, we can plan this" and it's a slight disaster but Nat and Ace just rolls their eyes because they're not surprised.

—WE DIDN’T START THE FIRE

frat!jake seresin x f!reader

wc: 438

warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), mentions of a fire

catch up with jake and ace here!

»»————- ♠︎ ————-««

When you heard from Jake that he and Javy were taking over date night, you were worried. You loved the guy, you really did, but Jake and Javy together only meant one thing: chaos.

Nat brought up the idea of going on a double date with her and Javy and you were more than happy to start planning with her. Jake and Javy, however, were set on doing it all themselves.

“Our girls deserve the best.”

“Yeah, let us do the work this time. Break gender norms and all that.”

The second those words left their mouths you knew this was going to be a recipe for disaster.

“So tell me again, how did the fire start?”

Natasha rolls her eyes with an exasperated sigh as you stand beside her with your hands on your hips.

“Well, Mr. Officer, sir,“ Jake starts. “Have you ever been in love?”

You groan, slapping your palm to your face. “Oh my god.”

Javy, always the loyal best friend, backs Jake up. “The fire started in our hearts for these lovely ladies right here.” He winks at the both of you. “We were supposed to be having a romantic double date dinner right here in the apartment. Homemade gnocchi, a bottle of wine and candlelight dinner when…well.” He gestures to the evacuated building.

“We didn’t mean to set the rag on fire.”

“But instead of putting the fire out you…” The fire fighter glances between the two.

“They threw the rag towards the window,” you sigh. “Right at the curtains setting those on fire too.” You look at Jake pointedly and he shrugs sheepishly.

The man raises a brow. “Right. You four are lucky there’s not much damage that was done to the place. Landlord isn’t too happy about it though.” He nods to your apartment landlord who has a clear look of distaste at the group of you.

He thanks the four of you for your time before checking in with your landlord.

Just as he leaves, you smack Jake on the arm while Natasha smacks the back of Javy’s head.

“We just moved here!” You exclaim, clutching onto Jake’s arm. “And here you two go, causing trouble.”

Jake buries his nose in your hair. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“We just wanted to do something special.” Javy wraps an arm around Natasha who once again rolls her eyes.

A hint of a smile graced her lips as she says, “You guys are idiots.”

“Yeah but we’re your idiots,” Jake winks.

You laugh, finally letting out your amusement in the situation. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you smile. “Yeah, yeah you are.”

a/n: this was a lil short and goofy one that i had so much fun writing

tgm taglist: @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl @t-nd-rfoot @dempy @ollyoxenfrees @potato-girl99981 @averyhotchner @2guysonascooter @loveforaugust @blue-aconite @fandom-life-12 @stiles-banshees @iamdannyday @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @breezemood @eli2447 @angelbabyange @finelytaylored @pono-pura-vida @hecate-steps-on-me @blueoorchid @aviatorobsessed @blackwidownat2814 @hallecarey1 @averagereader35 @laneylovesglen @atarmychick007 @kajjaka @urfavelocagirl @clancycumber230 @memeorydotcom

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #jake seresin x f!reader #hangman x f!reader #hangman x ace 📚#loving you universe #demxters writing

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lunalockley · 2 years

Text

2. The Date

Masterlist

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader x slight Marc Spector

Warnings: 18+ smut, just some making out (the good stuff is coming, so excited for you to read the next chapter oh my gosh)

Summary: Constantly kissing your cute neighbor Steven doesn't make him any less mysterious.

Words: 2.3 k

Notes: Thanks for all of your support! I get very happy every time I read your reactions to the fics, makes me want to write more and more! So, comments or suggestions are always welcome <3

Previous chapter | Next chapter

gif credit

So… you might be as into your cute neighbor Steven as he’s into Ancient Egypt. Maybe even more.

As you get ready for tonight's first formal date, you try not to think about all the other casual friendly dates you've had already. Because just the recall of it it’s giving your heart palpitations.

But even as you try to focus on something else, you can’t help looking back to that first bookshop date. Where you had to whisper close to each other due the book club meeting that was taking place in the store. Where you could smell his earthy cologne and fresh clean clothes blending with the dry scent of paper.

Your heart races just by remembering the way Steven kept looking at you, almost like he couldn't believe you were right there next to him. How he tried to hide his nervousness by pretending to be reading book titles every time you caught him staring at you.

Or that other date, a few bookshops after, the one in which you were in front of a massive table displaying bestsellers with discount stickers and one of them caught your attention.

It was a poorly designed erotica book cover featuring two impossible muscular werewolves and what seemed to be a half-naked mermaid, behind them a very obviously suggestive bed on fire.

This genre should have an annual cover contest, you thought running a finger over the cover.

The movement must have caught his attention.

“Do y-you like lovey-dovey literature?” he asked in a soft almost chocked voice, catching you off guard.

Lovey-dovey. Is even possible to be that cute? The butterflies made you giggle against your will.

Before you could reply he affirmed: “Your laugh must be the prettiest sound in the world.” His voice firmer that second time.

You were the one left breathless after that.

But even if you try not to think about it, there are little things scattered all around your flat that remind you of him. Like that street artist’s little canvas you saw once on display on your way back home after having coffee together, he bought it for you a few days later because you told him it evoked a landscape you enjoyed on a happy vacation as a kid. The Introduction to Mythology book that he lent you, asking you to let him know whenever you get to the moon gods part. The hippo stuffed animal called Taweret he brought you from the museum, even when he doesn’t work there anymore. Or the pyramid of Giza souvenir placed in a special spot on your bookshelf, from that morning he came to you apologizing for the jilted date, briefly explaining to you he went urgently to Egypt but without giving too much away about why he had to.

That reminds you that even when he’s sweet, open, and thoughtful, there’s still some air of mystery around him. You have the feeling that there are some significant information blanks you don’t yet get to fill. And you always have that fact at forefront of your mind until you see him and he says something incredibly distracting and sweet and all you can focus on is controlling your reactions to what he does and what he says.

Exactly what happened when he asked you out a few days ago.

“I’ve been—I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now”, he mentioned one morning when you ran into each other in the hallway. “There’s a new vegan restaurant in the suburbs that’s getting quite good reviews, you know? And I thought we could get a cab and—what I mean to ask you is that I would… I would like to take you out for—for dinner.”

“Sure, sounds good” you answered with a smile. You didn’t give it much thought, you’ve been going out visiting museums, bookshops, and cafes for weeks now.

But that wasn’t it enough for him. He wanted to make it clear.

“I’m—I’m asking you out. I’m asking you out on a date. A date-date. If… if you are interested, of course. If you’re not t-that’s alright.”

Oh.

You weren't expecting such a straightforward Steven so early in the morning. It short-circuited your brain for a second.

“I am.”

“Yeah?” He returned softly like he wasn’t expecting you to say yes. His growing radiant smile debilitating in an addictive way.

It filled you up with the urge to make him happy just to get to see him smiling that same way over and over again.

Gentle knocks on your door interrupt your thoughts. An adrenaline rush spreads over your body as you open it.

“Hey, neighbor.”

He’s dressed all black and handsome.

“Bloody hell, you look astonishingly pe—”. He spouts as soon as he sees you, but then he seems to listen a voice in his head telling him to back up a little. “You look beautiful,” he corrects a second later with sincere eyes.

And everything’s perfect, all giggles, blushes, stolen glances, and almost-touching hands… that is, until you get to the new restaurant and there’s a 2-hour waiting list to get a table.

“No!,” he pleads heartbroken at the hostess. “Really?”

Once you’re outside you take a look around, there are no more restaurants in plain sight. Just a few remaining open fast-food places and a nearby park. You turn around to find a sad-puppy eyes Steven looking at you.

“I’m so sorry!—I’m so sorry I didn’t check out first! I just blew off our date, didn’t I? Bloody idiot I am. How could I not che—”

“Hey Steven, it’s ok. We can find something… maybe some burgers?”

“Burgers? But I wanted it to be special for you.”

He wanted this date to be special for you. He says it so casually, yet the words go straight to your heart.

You can’t help but be as upfront with your emotions as he is.

“It’s special as long as I’m with you.” You concede, holding his stare long enough to see his cheeks get a light pink glow. The radiant smile appears a few seconds after.

“Let’s find some burgers,” he says daring to softly hold your hand for the first time.

Well, you don’t find burgers but you do find vegan pizza. And now you’re eating it at the park because the pizzeria was about to close when you got there and he’s still holding your hand and now you’ve felt his touch you crave for more. You’re dying to be closer, to rest your head on his shoulder, to caress his curls away from his face, to lean in and brush his fingers against his tanned skin.

Yet you hold back because everything feels perfect just as it is and you’re scared to ruin it.

Until he inclines, examining your eyes.

“Has anyone told you that your eyes sparkle in the moonlight?”

He’s closer than he's ever been, your pulse starts racing.

Why does he have to smell so good? So right?

On purpose, your lips brush his ear as you whisper to him, desperate to feel him any way you can. “That's the fourth time you’ve complimented me today.”

That’s it for him. Shivers running down his spine, light-headed, and eyes closed, Steven angles his face, his lips almost coming against yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your lips part, the answer stuck somewhere in your throat.

And your heart —your poor heart— lost it at the total surrender in his voice. At the unfiltered need you hear.

“Please?” he asks again, softer this time.

Unable to stop yourself and before you could even process it your lips are on his. The absence of an answer makes him gasp in your mouth. The sound seeping deep, deep inside of you.

At first, his kiss is soft, slow, taking his time exploring you. But then his body is coming against yours, seeking anything you’d give him.

And you think you might be dreaming again because you’ve been wanting him for months now and the way his hands are tenderly holding you as close as you let him, the way his warmth is spreading over your skin everywhere you’re touching, god, the noises he’s making, it’s all too good to be true.

So you take both of you back to soft. Sweet. Light. And then you step back a bit to get some air into your lungs.

“That was.. that was lovely. Perfect. You are perfect” he says before chasing your lips one more time, as drunk on your touch as you’re on his, barely giving you any time to breathe.

You giggle on his lips, this is real. And he’s giggling too, happy. Kissing your cheek, your jaw, your lips again.

“I would kiss you forever if you’d let me, love.” He breaths as you trail your fingers through his hair and then around his neck until they came down to rest on his strong chest. He melts under your touch, still panting.

And he does.

He’s kissing you all the time.

Every date you’ve had after the date it’s been filled with an ever-increasing number of compliments, kisses, and soft touches that always leave you breathless and yearning. Every time you share more of your time with him, to the point he’s quickly becoming a part of the little daily domestic things like when he crosses the hall to eat breakfast with you or when you’re cooking dinner together or, later, when you’re washing the dishes laughing over something silly either of you just said.

Like now that he has offered to wash your hair after you’re done bleaching a little stripe, just for the pleasure of doing so intimate yet simple.

You look at him through the mirror. He looks very focused on the task he’s doing. Almost like helping you wash your hair was something very important for him and doesn’t want to mess it up.

“Am I doing it all right, love?”, he asks smiling hesitantly.

He puts so much care and love into any little thing he does that you can’t even think he could do anything wrong at all.

“More than all right,” you smile back at him through the mirror. His smile grows and you melt into your seat.

Once your hair is completely wet, he starts applying the shampoo. And oh, his hands are so, so soothing, so comforting. He is touching you like you were something very precious and delicate that he could easily break at the slightest carelessness.

You can’t help but hum in pleasure at the way the gentle press of his fingers feels against your scalp.

“I know” he whispers, out of breath.

You don’t even realize you had closed your eyes until he abruptly stops.

When you open them he is staring at you through the mirror. But there’s something different. He holds your stare for a second and then his gaze fall into his hands in your head, nearly lost.

His eyes that shined like a clear sunny sky just moments ago, now give the impression there’s a storm forming inside them.

You don’t know why but the change makes your heart race.

“Are you ok?” you ask.

His eyes make contact with yours across the mirror once more. It seems like he has a million different answers to give you. But then he just nods slowly, returning to the massage of your scalp a second later.

You think you are imagining it, but there is certain vehemence in the way he is touching you now, you don’t know what you would call it but it carries less indecisiveness and more eagerness. There’s even a little frown that you don’t think have seen in him before. He almost looks in pain. And even when your hair is more than clean by now, he doesn’t stop.

“Steven?” you ask, placing your hand on one of his.

That seems to break the bubble he was in. His hands leave your scalp, you look at him in the mirror but he refuses to make eye contact.

He gives a step back, his hands full of foam and little white bubbles. You stop for a moment at the thought that even his posture seems to be somehow different. But you get distracted by the way he is pushing his head down into your neck, his sigh sending goosebumps all over your skin.

After a second he places a soft kiss between your shoulder and your neck.

And for some reason —maybe because of the brief touch of his tongue over your skin that feels like he was savoring it for the first time— the kiss feels unlike any other kiss you’ve shared with him till now.

“I'll be right back,” he mutters leaving the bathroom.

When he comes back, a few moments later, it’s like nothing happened. He excuses himself by saying he needed a glass of water but you know, you know there’s more than that. You just don’t have any idea what could it be.

He continues with the task ahead in silence, meditative. Just once your hair is wrapped in a towel he speaks again.

“Have you—Have you had time to read the book I lent you, love?”

The question catches you off guard.

“Uh… I'm still not in the part you want, why?”

He thinks something and then silently nods to himself, gaining determination.

“There are some things you need to know.”

———————————————

Please let me know if you wish to be added or removed from the tag list!

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@ungracefularchimedes @uncle-eggygy @losers-club6 @mona-has-friends @ninjarose23 @later-gators12 @saahmi @bookwormvoyageuse @wordacadabra @dynamiter-lune @sheisforthebirds @lilith-blackrose @avengersinitiative2012 @actuallyanita @cleothegoldfish @ninebluehearts @deadbirdcz @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @imarvelatthestars @bucksgoat

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look-at-the-soul · 1 year

Text

New traditions

Modern Tommy Shelby x Reader

🎄 I wrote this one shot to celebrate @runnning-outof-time almost 2.5K, K congratulations 🎉 you’ve made a few celebrations before but timing wasn’t on my side and I couldn’t finish the story on time, now your Bingo celebration came just in time as I had this Christmas idea ♥️ so it couldn’t be more fitting, I hope you continue to do more celebrations and posting more incredible stories -one day I will catch up ☺️-

Summary: Setting up the Christmas tree together, becomes a new tradition for Tommy, Y/N and Charlie, let the beautiful the season do its own magic and make your wish, you might find your favorite Shelby doing something he wouldn’t normally do. 😉

Special thanks to @lyarr24 for the food recommendations 🥰

After taking a shower, Tommy got ready. The second floor was oddly silent, Y/N was nowhere to be seen and Charlie wasn’t in his room. But as he reached the first floor, he heard a low conversation and giggles and small chorus of a song.

“Go around the tree, and keep the ribbon with the little loop like this,” Tommy saw Y/N pointing at a piece of ribbon perfectly placed.

“Like this?”

A hand on her hip, her jeans hugging her legs, her ass was hidden by an oversized sweater Tommy swore belonged to him. “Beautiful, see? It wasn’t so hard.” Y/N nodded at the kid as she walked to the fire place, there was a garland decorating the top of it. As Charlie kept singing and messing up with the lyrics, Y/N took something out from a shopping bag.

Tommy’s heart caught up in his throat as he saw three Christmas socks in her hands.

One for him, one for her and one for his son, with Charlie’s name embroidered.

“Y/N look! Dad can help us with the star, we don’t need the ladder anymore.” Charlie pointed at him, still frozen in spot.

“We didn’t want to wake you up, so I asked Charlie to help me set up the Christmas tree.” Y/N explained as she walked towards him, giving Tommy a small peck on the lips, she tasted like hot chocolate and cookies.

“Will you help us Dad?” Charlie asked showing off his smile. Charming just like his father.

He had a busy morning ahead, but as Charlie ran to Y/N and they both pleaded with puppy eyes, he couldn’t say no.

“Alright.” He cleared his throat, pushing away the emotions, or at least trying to. “What can I help you with?

“Mr. Shelby I brought some coffee for you.” Frances announced placing the tray on the table, after asking if he wanted something for breakfast and Tommy answered that he didn’t, she left the drawing room.

“Charlie I think we can turn up the volume of the music now.” Y/N winked at Tommy, brushing his lips one more time as his son went to choose the playlist . “I have a surprise for you, later.”

Tommy raised his eyebrows in surprise, “are you going to dress up as Mrs Claus?” he licked his lips suggestively.

Hitting him in the chest with the Christmas sock, Y/N looked over at Charlie, lost in the gifts she had wrapped already, trying to find out the content of the package with his name on the tag.

“No what I had in mind, but that sounds like something you’d like.” Y/N answered while a soft blush covered her cheeks.

“Gloves, red lipstick, high boots, singing Jingle bells...” Tommy pressed his lower lip between his teeth and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Y/N couldn’t stop the laugh, as his hands squeezed her waist.

“You left me alone this morning.”

Feeling his arms locked, she was pressed dangerously close to his toned body. His lotion was addictive.

“Thought you were tired from last night activities.” She whispered opening the top button of his blue shirt. “Charlie almost caught me this morning.”

“Oh you wore me out, but I could always go for one more.” As Tommy smiled, small lines formed around his eyes. Lines of happiness as Y/N liked to call them.

“Dad do you know what Y/N got me? She says it’s heavy and its got thirteen letters.” Charlie complained interrupting their conversation looking up at his father.

Breaking the embrace, Y/N smiled at the mini-Tommy, he was just as curious as his dad, trying to get hints and clues since they started decorating early that morning.

“Nope, she went alone to shop in peace, says I don’t have patience.”

“You don’t.” Y/N interjected adding some crystal render to the decoration on top of the fireplace.

“So you don’t know?”

Pouting, Tommy shook his head.

Truth is he did know what present Y/N got his son, it was a beautiful horse collection that included three books and a set of horses figures, he knew Charlie would love it. But he wouldn’t ruin her surprise.

Tommy saw Y/N smiling at Charlie’s complain. He had asked Frances already.

“If its any consolation, she doesn’t want to tell me what she got for me.”

“That’s because is a surprise!”

After fixing some of the lights that didn’t work, he got up from the floor with a groan.

“Right, I hope you clean up everything after you finish, I gotta go.”

“What? Where?” Y/N popped her head from behind the tree with a look of a disappointment in her eyes, Christmas ornaments hanging from each finger. “I thought we’d spend the day together decorating.” She was hoping they could make it a beautiful new tradition.

With a loud huff, Cyril joined them only to keep sleeping peacefully next to the fire.

“I won’t be long, I just have to do something.”

“Daaaad.”

Guilt shot through his system, two pair of eyes looking at him accusingly.

“You promised to watch the Grinch with us.”

Part of Y/N’s Christmas ritual consisted of decorating the tree, bake cookies and watch a Christmas movies marathon.

“And Home alone too.” Charlie added.

And suddenly he felt like the worst person in the world.

“Fine, I’ll do it on Monday.” He gave in after a few seconds, there was no way to escape the Christmas decoration.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled, it was their first Christmas together and she was looking forward to the whole process.

“Really? Are you staying?” Y/N placed the tree ornaments back in the box and walked to were he was standing. She still wasn’t used to him working during the weekends. Lifting on her tip toes, she brushed her lips against Tommy’s. As he nodded, a beautiful smile appeared, and she pulled him by the neck to kiss him one more time. “You make me so happy.”

That’s all he wanted to hear. He would do anything just to see Y/N smile.

“I’m hungry.” Charlie complained.

“See I could go leave the papers and buy some food.” Tommy offered.

Y/N made a sound with her tongue and tilted her head. “I know that trick... we can order lunch in the app and get it delivered here.”

“What do you want?” He wrapped his arm around her waist, as Y/N leaned her head against his chest.

“Fish and chips!” Charlie demanded excitedly, running around.

“Where did he get all that energy?” Tommy asked looking at the ceiling.

Y/N laughed and inhaled his scent. “He’s your son, what did you expect?” Walking to her phone, she started placing the order, while with her free hand, she gave Tommy some ornaments. He made sure to get her approval before hanging each piece.

“Can you add extra ketchup for me Y/N? Please.”

Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Charlie placing the teddy bears with matching scarves under the tree, he was so polite.

“Of course sweetheart.” And as she said that, an arm sneaked around from behind.

“Where are you buying lunch from?”

“From Harry Ramsdens’, is that alright?”

“Yeah, love that.” Tommy kissed her neck and then the spot behind her ear that made her toes curl. Taking his wallet, he gave her his credit card.

“I think the tree is ready.”

Almost, Y/N thought walking to one of the boxes.

“Do you like this star, Cyril?” The dog sniffed the item, and Y/N moved it back just in time before he could lick it. “I think that’s a yes.”

Touching Tommy’s arm, she moved her eyes to Charlie, who was touching the crystal angel ornament he chose to remember and honour his mother.

“The tree needs the final touch son, do you want to put the star?”

“But it’s so high, I can’t reach the tip.”

Without further explanation, Tommy gave Charlie the star and took him in his arms. Lifting him above his head, the kid was able to set the star in the highest part of the tree. Struggling a bit when he started to laugh as his father’s fingers tickled his ribs.

“Are we ready now?”

“l’ll do it!” Charlie smiled running to take the remote to lit the tree.

“3, 2... 1!”

Turning on the lights, the three of them remained quiet for a moment, admiring their work.

It was probably one of the simplest thing he had ever done, but it meant so much. Sharing a moment with his son and girlfriend, listening to his happy voice singing and laughing with Y/N, telling her what he wanted to ask Santa, Tommy thought that this would be a happy holiday for him, not like the previous or when he was about his son’s age.

Swallowing his emotions, he was grateful for the doorbell ring interruption. Cyril stormed out barking.

“I’ll get it. Charles, help Y/N with the plates.” He instructed walking to the door.

After finishing their lunch, Y/N walked to get one of the presents and then back to the dining room.

“I was going to wait until Christmas Eve to give you this, but I guess we can open one present early.” She still had another present for him wrapped, it was a beautiful leather cover for his new iPad with a matching briefcase.

Tommy looked at her surprised, he wasn’t expecting the big box was for him.

“Go on, open it.” Y/N encouraged him with a smile.

Tommy left his cigarette on the tray. His heart fluttered with joy as he found what was under the shiny paper.

“Wow it’s so cool Dad.” Charlie spoke for him.

“When did you get this?” He asked in shock, looking at his girlfriend.

Y/N knew she scored when her eyes found Tommy’s. “Yesterday, I couldn’t resist it.”

“Can we assemble it?” Charlie’s eyes were fixed on the train set.

“Why don’t you open the box? We’ll be there in a minute.” Y/N offered to give Tommy a moment, he was suddenly quiet. Turning to look at him, she was now worried. “If you don’t like it I can ask for a refund.”

Before she could finish, Tommy was shaking his head.

“Thank you.” Sometimes, if she looked closely and he was caught off guard, she could see his emotions right in his eyes. This was one of those rare moments. “This is the best present you could give me, love.”

She didn’t know, but she was healing old open wounds, she was giving his inner child the love he sometimes couldn’t find.

“You’re welcome babe, I’m sorry it took you a few years to get the train around the Christmas tree you wanted, but it’s better late than ever.” Her hand came to rest on his cheek in a caressing motion.

Tommy closed his eyes the moment when his forehead touched hers. “Can’t believe you remember it.”

When they talked about how they would spend the holidays, somehow Y/N managed to get inside the deepest parts of his soul, where no one else was allowed to, and he ended up sharing a memory of his childhood and how he always loved to see the stores full of Christmas decorations and one store particularly placed the tree next to the window with a train going around the base.

“Are you going to help me or what?” Charlie shouted from the drawing room.

Burying his fingers in her hair, Y/N felt him smiling against her lips.

“He sounds just like you.” She chuckled intertwining her hand with his to walk to the other room.

“It has the track sections, the caboose and the little cabin with the driver!” Charlie exclaimed happily, he already had the pieces ready on the floor.

In silence, Y/N snapped a photo of Tommy and Charlie from behind, without them knowing, without a pose as they were setting the track, her boyfriend had a beaming smile, genuine, the kind that hurts your jaw after smiling so much.

“Put the batteries there, no turn that one.” Tommy instructed his son after stepping back.

The train started to move around the tree and Cyril inspected it, barking a couple of times, while Tommy struggled to find the right words to say. How could something so small mean so much?

He couldn’t stop the thoughts of those times when there wasn’t enough money for dinner, decorations or presents.

“I have something for you as well.” Tommy announced, then turning to Charlie, he whispered something in his ear and the kid ran upstairs.

“What is it?”

“You’ll see in a minute.” The smirk Y/N saw didn’t help, but he insisted on covering her eyes. “Charlie can you take it out from the bag please? Be careful, it can bite you.” He joked winking at his son as Y/N tried to hide herhands.

“Tommy!”

“Y/N!” He imitated her voice.

Seconds later, his hands moved away from her eyes and she found Charlie holding a music box with a small village inside.

“How...H-how did you know?”

“I asked Isaiah to be my eyes while you were shopping, he mentioned you kept coming back to watch it, after he drove you back home, I asked him to go back to the store to get it.” By the surprise in her eyes, it seemed like he got the right present.

“It needs a key to work.” Y/N stated, taking the box from Charlie’s hands.

“Right, about that...” Tommy offered her his hand and she pressed her palm against his, he turned it around, placing a key chain with two keys. “We’ve talked about taking the next step in our relationship.” His thumb was moving in slow circles in the back of her hand. “You’re so important in my life, my son loves you as much as I do. And we spend most of our time together... here. So I want to ask you if you would like to move in with me?” Charlie cleared his throat. “With us, I mean.”

One was the key to musical box and the other one of his house.

“Tommy yes! I want to move in with the three of you.” She pointed at Cyril, who only moved his head to get comfortable.

Placing his hands on her cheeks, Tommy pulled her for a kiss.

“It’s going to be so fun Y/N!” Charlie hugged her after they broke apart. “Will you stay tonight?”

Y/N blushed, she usually sneaked out before the sunrise, but that morning Charlie caught her walking from Tommy’s room.

“Will you stay forever?” Asked Tommy with a smile that reached his eyes.

“If you want me to.”

“Now we can watch a movie!”

“You can pick the movie, I will get the popcorn.” Y/N told Charlie who was already running to the other room.

But before she could walk to the kitchen, Tommy grabbed her by the arm and pulled Y/N back for a deeper kiss now that his son wasn’t looking.

“Are you really living with us?”

“It looks like that.” Y/N ran her fingers through the shaved sides of his head.

“That means I get to have you in my bed every night?” His lips went to assault her neck, nibbling gently.

“Starting tonight.”

“I’ll make sure you get a drawer or two.” He joked.

“That’s very generous from you.” And she pulled him before Charlie could start shouting that the movie was about to start.

An hour later, they were cuddling in the big sofa, Tommy placed his free hand wrapped around Y/N’s back. She was caressing Charlie’s hair, he fell asleep on her lap in the middle of the movie, in her other hand she was holding a glass of wine. After the movie finished Y/N took the book she bought for Christmas, another new tradition she wanted to do, buy books for her loved ones and read every night until Christmas Eve.

She knew there’s was something magical about the season, Tommy even agreed to wear the matching socks she bought for them, maybe next year she could convince him to wear matching pajamas.

Tommy looked at them; Y/N snapped a photograph of their legs tangled, with the fireplace in the background, Cyril could be seen there as well.

“Are you posting that to your Instasnap?

Y/N had to suppress a laugh to not wake up Charlie.

“Instagram baby.”

Rolling his eyes he added. “Whatever. Same shit.”

Unlike the movie, he wasn’t home alone. He had exactly what he needed to be happy.

***

A/N: Do you have any special traditions? You know it’s just a bit crazy because I decided to open my blog on Christmas Eve last year and my very first post was a Tommy/Charlie photo, so this just seemed to be the perfect match for the holidays. I hope you like this story, if you do, your thoughts and comments are the best gift you could give me 💝

Master list

This is the combination I chose from the Bingo:

Tag list:

@lyarr24 @datewithgianni @runnning-outof-time @gretelshelby @cloudofdisney @cillmequick @zablife @moral-terpitude @cutecurly-hair @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @lespendy @gypsy-girl-08 @onlydeadcells @peaky-cillian @shelbydelrey @forgottenpeakywriter @esposadomd @stevie75 @strayrockette @the-forest-witchh @elenavampire21 @peakyscillian

If you want to be added to my tag list, let me know :)

#That’s what Cill said #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #modern tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #modern peaky blinders #k’s 2.5k holiday bingo challenge

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luis-block · 1 year

Note

So, that incorrect quote post popped a little scenario in my head: what if Leshy pulled the whole "pissing out the bonfire" stunt, and then caught the reader sneaking a peek?

Oh, that's naughty, I'm in! I am making this a bit NSFW, but if you would like this with nothing suggestive, or even a continuation of this for a full NSFW piece of this let me know!

Warnings: Trying to catch a peek of his log pipe, suggestive themes, cornering of reader, virgin/inexperienced reader

Sneaking a peek at Leshy at a bonfire ritual 🌿

The cool summer nights of Darkwood always had a special place in your heart. The smell of freshly bloomed Camellia flowers and the candle smoke from the forest filled your senses as you sit on the sidelines of the bonfire ritual taking place. This ritual was a favorite of the followers of this section of the Old Faith. Throwing acorns into the fire was especially fun, as it added to the chaos factor that was always present in rituals here. The dancing and singing were always the highlight of the week for everyone, including yourself.

You smile as you see your betrothed watching over the festivities as his followers enjoy themselves. You have been with Leshy for about two winters now, and you have never been happier. He has done nothing but adore you and make sure that you are treated on the same level as he is. You have told him that that part isn’t necessary, you aren’t a god like him after all. “But you are betrothed to a god, my wildflower. Anyone to steal a bishop’s heart like you have deserves nothing less.” Is his go to response whenever you mention it. It never ceased to make you blush.

Even before you took the pilgrimage to the lands of the Old Faith, you have never felt more loved before. Leshy respected all of your boundaries without fail, letting you take the reigns as far as the physical part of your relationship. You hear Leshy give a blessing to a follower, you look over to see his arm out of his robes. You look at his hand and feel your heart skip a beat as you look away.

It only serves to remind you that the main thing that you two haven’t done in your relationship is… ah, being intimate. You have been too embarrassed to admit it, but you have little experience in the way of being sexual with another being. Sure you have masturbated, but you damn well that they are very different experiences. Not only that but you’re not sure if Leshy even has any, well, parts?? He is a natural born god, and you are not sure if gods just appear or if they do reproduce? You haven’t had the balls to ask.

As you are stuck in your thoughts, you hear nervous whispering from followers nearby. You look up to see Leshy creep over to the bonfire with a mischievous look in his eyes. You know exactly what he is planning. The first time he did this was when you had both gotten together, and it was even your first bonfire ritual at that. Maybe it was to let you know what you were getting into, you think with a giggle.

But wait. If he pissed on the bonfire last time… Does that mean…

You have an idea! If you can see what he has, if anything, it would make the conversation of intimacy much easier for you. You look to the bushes parallel to the fire with your plan coming to light as you carefully make yourself as inconspicuous as possible. You make it to your spot, hiding between two big berry bushes as you get the best view to fulfill your goal. You watch as Leshy makes it the fire, the surrounding followers know what he is planning, covering their eyes and moving out of the way. Your heart races out of your cheat as he slowly moves his main robes and under robes as your eyes are glued with anticipation as he……

Looks you straight in the eyes, a devious smirk growing as he stops what he is doing and walks right for you. You go pale as you retreat in the woods, never have you been so embarrassed in your whole life! You are sure none of the other followers knew what was going on, but what if they did see you?! Your thoughts race as you think you are far enough away, Leshy not being in sight. You take a calming breath, maybe that was a prank? He was currently known for them. Maybe he didn’t notice you looking at his crotch to see if he’s got a dick or-

You are pushed up to a tree as the foliage around you falls apart, the woods shaking as it is covered in red. “Dammit..” You puff out, realizing the who had found you. The ground turns black as Leshy comes out of the portal before stepping onto the grass. He keeps eye contact as you look away blushing, not ready for the conversation about to take place. “What do you have to say for yourself, my dear?” he questions, staking closer to you as you aren’t paying attention. “A-ah, Well… I was just… picking berries?” You stammer out, knowing that was the lamest lie you could have given. You look up to realize he is right in front of you, towering over you as you fell like the butterflies in your stomach are going to rot it way.

He laughs as he picks you up around your waist, his hand on ass and fingers daringly close to your crotch as your thighs shake as he brings you up to his eye level. “Oh (Y/N), we both know that isn’t what you were doing...” He teases, his breath fanning over you as you tremble in his hand. You feel more and more heat building in you as you look into his eyes that are scanning you over. “So, tell me (Y/N)- “he says as he brings you up for a kiss on the cheek as you let out a small whine. “- is there something you have been meaning to talk to me about?”

#cotl nsft #nsft #CotL Leshy x reader #cult of the lamb Leshy x reader #Leshy x reader #cotl bishops x reader #cult of the lamb x reader #cotl x reader #cotl reader #cult of the lamb reader #cult of the lamb follower #cult of the lamb x follower!reader #cotl follower reader #Cotl bishop x reader

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xthescarletbitch · 8 months

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kara from detriot become human!! I have some brainrot!

Imagine being married to her and raising alice together as her mothers. 🥹🥹🥹🥹

Friends to lovers and also slowburn!!!

It started as y/n taking care of kara and alice and over time y/n and kara falls in love!! It took them years to confess becuase it would ruin their relationship as friends and they both assumed the other loved them as a friend.

Alice considers you both as parents :D

Y/n can be human or an android. You can choose.

oh, my sweet anon. 🥹 thank you so much!!

i absolutely imagine that so much these days. i just know kara would be such a sweet and devoted wife. you try to do things around the house to help you both, but you know not to let her catch you. she is definitely the type to take over after you and insist you rest, but you have to humbly remind her that she is not expected to do anything, and that she deserves some rest too. regarding alice, i think she adores you even more than kara does, and that was one reason why kara let her guard down around you in the first place. alice holds a special place in her heart, and now you do too. definitely relishing in the fact that you would be such a happy family in canada post-uprising. ✨

friends to lovers slow burn!! the way to my fucking heart.

here’s a little writing about that prompt, where reader is a human… though if it’s liked, i could always expand on it and/or change reader to be an android. (damn, i haven’t written in a hot minute.)

imagine being alice’s babysitter to fill in the gaps left by kara’s absence.

one night, your gut told you to visit alice and check on her, and it was coincidentally the night that kara took alice from her father. you offered them a ride and a place to stay, knowing that you would have to plan another getaway since todd knew where you lived.

you took care of alice and kara that night. you made sure that alice was in the warmest clothes and feeling comfortable enough to rest, and that kara was in a new set of clothes herself. she was a little roughed up from her altercation with todd, but you took the time to help her clean and compose herself. she was surprised at the gesture and didn’t know what to make of her new feelings. becoming deviant and starting to feel something other than motherly love was a foreign concept in her current state. all she knew was that she liked the feeling felt around you. you showed her the humanity that she deserved.

kara fell for you even deeper as she saw what you were willing to go through to protect not only her but also her dear alice. as time went on, she started to understand more and more of what she was feeling, but she had no idea of how even to express it. did you only see her as a friend? likewise, you had your own doubts. you’ve witnessed androids being in love with each other, but never a love between an android and a human.

you and kara were good friends, but perhaps that’s all you were meant to be, right? maybe it was best to keep it to yourselves.

it took forever for a confession, but when it finally came, it was the most amazing feeling. it was after luther had taken alice to the park, leaving you and kara alone. in retrospect, maybe that was on purpose.

it was a chilly day, and for some mysterious reason, the thermostat was set to cool. you hugged yourself as you went down the stairs, shivering. there was fire crackling in the living room and dishes clattering in the kitchen.

you smiled at kara as you went to sit in front of the fire. she smiled back but then noticed your shivering. she dropped what she was doing to grab you a blanket and placed it around you gently. you thanked her and invited her to stay in front of the fire with you. both of you got to talking, and eventually, the talk led you to a confession of how you both felt about each other. after a bit of giggling and realising that this could really happen, you shared an intimate kiss in front of the romantic fireplace. her hands wrapped lovingly around yours, and you sat and enjoyed the moment, cuddling up to one another.

when luther and alice returned, they noticed the scene in front of them and smiled at each other. they knew what they were doing, and they were happy with the result. alice considered you and kara her parents, and luther just wanted to see his friends finally get together.

#kara #ax400 #detroit become human #kara x reader #dbh kara x reader #kara ax400 #detroit become human kara #kara x reader detroit become human #kara dbh #kara dbh x reader #dbh kara #kara detroit become human #dbh ax400 #ax400 x reader #dbh x reader #detroit become human x reader #dbh #asks #my writing

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blizzardfluffykpop · 2 years

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Gaon as Your Boyfriend 💖

Bulleted list, fluff

Word Count: 2,289

Requested by two different anons :)

[A/n: Sorry, these took forever but I wanted to be in the right headspace to write these because these require a lot of research and a soft heart!]

Unlike the members we’ve looked at before, his Venus is in Capricorn, an earth element. [Just like his sun sign!] And it’s located in his tenth house as well as his midheaven! This really points to him being well-liked in his profession! But onto the love factors: Tend to love deeply rather than openly, are extremely loyal, and are practical in love. Not a fan of flings if you’re with him. He wants to be with you for a long time!

So!

Unlike the other boys you would meet at your shared workplace, Studio J. You’re getting acquainted with how this place runs since you’re the new front desk manager. Everyone pitches in teaching you the ropes of how to work the computers and who’s who. The six of them walk in for their practice, and your boss would go, “Oh, (Y/n)! This is Xdinary Heroes!” You look up and memorize their faces so they can’t catch you off guard when they walk in. A big part of your job is knowing who to let in and whatnot. You bow lower than them, and Gunil excitedly introduces everyone, and you can’t help but be stunned by Gaon or Jiseok as he reintroduces himself to you. Because wow, he was good-looking and cute?

That’s how your first meeting with him goes, and you expect you won’t see much of them other than polite exchanges at maximum.

After a week of greeting him and learning the ropes of the job, he starts coming up to your desk to talk about something random, whether it was the weather outside or the newly installed vending machines in the hall.

And you can’t seem to get enough of these interactions, always looking forward to 12:10 pm on the clock when he comes in and at 7:00 pm when he knows your shift ends.

It makes your heart race just that much more, but you push that down, looking forward to being his friend first.

It’s a few weeks of this back and forth before the questions get deeper such as, “What was your favorite subject in school?” “Oh, Science and you?” “Oh, really! Me too!” And that would lead to you guys exchanging numbers and getting to know each other more.

Whenever you guys had free time, you’d text each other back and forth, getting to know each other even more. “If I was a lizard, would you still be my friend?” He asks, and you can’t help but shake your head and laugh, “Yeah, would you still be my friend if I was a bearded dragon?” He quickly fires back, “You better believe it!”

That statement cause you to let out a little giggle, unaware of your coworker approaching, “Who’s got you all smiley?” One of your coworkers asks, and you can’t help but blush, “Uh, no one special.” They grin at you, “They must be special to be getting such a reaction out of you.” And that’s when it would hit you. You really have it bad for him. And now you have to figure out how to express it to him.

Because his Venus is in Capricorn, he can have a harder time expressing his emotions. That’s because this placement makes them challenging! So you have to be patient with him, but if you’re observant, you’ll know he likes you well before he tells you!

Or his band mates will figure it out first with him after being asked, “Why are you going to lunch right now?” And goes into a frenzy and blabbers, “I uh-well, um, it’s just my mom– yeah, my mom called and wanted me to have lunch with her on the phone– And well! I gotta go, duty calls and all that!” The man has never been this flustered. In his life as he races to the cafeteria to share his first lunch with you.

The five of them don't believe that he’s ‘talking to his mom’ so they decide to confront him about it. After they send Hyeongjun, the least suspicious member, out there, he sees the two of you sitting across one another talking, and he recognizes you as the front desk person and quickly reports back. Gunil knowing none of them will get any meaningful practice--while they’re waiting for Jiseok to return from his lunch--has them all wait on his return.

The reason for your little lunch meetup, you may be asking? You started talking about music, and since it’s his absolute passion. It’s a conversation he has to have face to face with you.

After grabbing your lunches, you settle down across from each other. And Jiseok asks you who’s your favorite band. And as you talk about B/n, he can’t get enough wanting to know everything about why that band is your favorite. And what songs to listen to so he could fall in love with them. You ask him about what got him into music, and he tells you about Green Day, and you can’t help but make mental notes about them as he rambles on about them. He catches himself going on a tangent and turns red. He starts to stop before you shake your head and motion for him to continue, and he can’t help but continue, and your heart falls faster with each word he speaks.

Meanwhile, in the practice room, the five bandmates are waiting [albeit impatiently] for Jiseok to return. “What’s taking so long? It’s been longer than an hour!” Jooyeon whines and Jungsu shrugs, “Matters of the heart take a long time,” which causes Jooyeon to whine that it's such an old-school way of doing things. Gunil rolls his eyes, “Let’s just talk to him about it, okay?” Which causes them to all be in agreement.

You guys are so enraptured in each other that you don’t even realize that’s been an hour. And that both of your lunch times are up. It isn’t until you get a text from your coworker who wants to go on their break that you realize it’s been an hour.

The two of you pout as you clean up and part ways with a promise that you’ll have lunch together tomorrow.

Jiseok comes back in, all giddy, not noticing the five sitting in wait. When he does, he goes, “Hey,... what’s this all for?” As he sees the five of them sitting in front of the entrance, “Is the big boss man coming or something?” He asks, and it’s Hyeongjun, who states, “That certainly wasn’t your mom sitting across from you in the cafeteria.” He gulps and scratches the back of the neck. And Jooyeon pitches in and goes, “Yeah! They’re good-looking, and you better make a move before someone else does!” He had recently just realized he had feelings for you. And he certainly is nowhere near ready to ask you out on a date.

“Well, uh-uh. They’re my friend, and we’re just talking.” Jungsu quickly realizes what’s going on, and before the boys can continue their reign, he goes, “Well, if that’s all they are, then we should drop it, right guys?” With a slight head nod, they all grumble out an agreement. But it doesn’t stop the lingering questions running through the other’s minds.

The second lunch with you goes swimmingly, as he tells you stories about the boys and his dorm life. And you tell him all about your roommates in your apartment.

“Someone’s got to make a move, right?” Jooyeon asks Gunil, who goes, “I sure hope so.”

It’s your third lunch together, and Jiseok shows up early with your usual lunch set out for you, and you thank him. And he smiles and tries to be all cool by leaning on his arm and not thinking about his coat being made of fleece, it slips right off the linoleum table, and he drops his drink all over the table. And you laugh as you quickly grab some napkins and help him clean up. You get up and get him another drink before returning, “You good?” He turns redder than a tomato, “Yeah, yeah. Thanks.” You shrug, “It’s no problem.”

He’s so cute in your eyes, and that’s when you realize that today would be a perfect day to confess, “This might be too soon, but I think I like you as more than a friend.” If he wasn’t red before now, he’s beet red as he goes, “Really?” You nod with a blush coating your cheeks, and he sighs out of relief, looks up at the ceiling, and goes, “Thank you, whoever is up there." Before looking at you, he tells you with a brilliant smile on his face, “Because I like you a lot too.” And it’s him. Who suggests going to a movie theater around the corner for your first official date.

He rushes to the studio to tell them all about his date on Saturday, and they can’t help but be proud of him. And help him prepare for the date as well.

He picks you up from your apartment, and you walk to the theater together, discussing which movie you’re both seeing. And the two of you settle on the cheesy action movie and buy a big popcorn bowl and two drinks.

You two bump hands ever so often before you decide to hold his hand. That’s covered in grease and popcorn kernels just like yours. The two of you laugh, although there's nothing funny on screen. Just giddy from holding each other’s hands for the first time. Although the other moviegoers weren’t too happy with you guys, they didn’t say anything.

Once the two of you leave the theater, not having caught a moment of it, being too absorbed in each other. You go to drop Jiseok off, and you guys have yet to let go of each other’s hands–since you two washed them in the theater’s restroom, of course, to get the grease off–swinging hands back and forth. And see what type of hand-holding you two like most. [It ended up being the interlocked fingers handhold!]

You drop him off at his dorm, and he pulls you in for a giant hug that the two of you can’t seem to let go of. It isn’t until an ‘ahem’ interrupts the moment by scaring the daylights out of Jiseok and you. It’s Gunil, “I expected you to drop him off at 10 pm, not 10:02 pm. You’re late.” You both giggle at him. And it causes Gunil to laugh and has the two of you laughing harder. He leaves you two to have your little moment together. And you kiss him on his forehead before telling him you’ll meet him for lunch on Monday.

The lunch dates never stop, but they’ve changed a bit, with Jiseok waiting outside for you.

You know his routine by now and know he’s about a foot away from the main desk. And decide to surprise him.

And there he is, waiting with his leg propped up, acting all cool. And so you sneak up and surprise him, “Hi baby!” And he jumps out of his skin before recoiling fast and gaining his cool again. “Hey, baby!” Before pulling you into his arms and giving you a tight hug. “You got me,” you giggle, “I know.” And the two of you keep your arms around each other as you make your way into the lunch room.

Anyways!

Onto your relationship and the dynamics!

Jiseok is in it for the long haul and wants to be with you for a long time. He doesn’t believe in hookup culture one bit. He is absolutely committed to you as you’re committed to him.

As I've said before, he is very into PDA, although he may act as though he is opposed. He always wants to hold you or receive as many kisses as he gives. He loves every type of hug! If he can hold you, or you hold him, he’s in 7th heaven.

He always has to have his arm around you because he loves being near you. And when you cuddle, he loves being swaddled by you. If you pull him into your lap, he will be absolute putty in your hands.

Absolutely all giggly

If one of the boys comes around during a cuddle session, he’ll get all quiet and embarrassed. And the easiest way to get him back is to kiss his neck, and he’ll either be a puddle or be mock ‘offended’ before turning around and kissing your cheek.

When it comes to arguments or problems in the relationship, he always does his best to solve them before they even arise. Like say he isn’t cuddling you enough, and you hint at it, and he’ll solve it *snaps* like that. And if he has a problem, he’ll confront you before it can escalate or build up.

Because he doesn’t want your relationship to end over something trivial, he wants to be with you for a long time [if not forever]. He is in it for the long haul and sees a future with you. He wants to do everything he can to make it last.

For dates, you have the regular lunch dates [unless otherwise due to scheduling], and at least once a month, you guys do a more formal date.

Whether it’s trying something new together like rollerskating or something as simple as birdwatching, as long as the two of you are together, you're both content.

I should mention he absolutely enjoys kisses as much as hugs and wants them a lot he’s very affectionate, so be very doting with him.

He’s an absolute sweetheart who is silly, but please take care of him, okay? And love him forever. Okay?

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northsoulss · 2 years

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maybe you were the best part - ʟᴇᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ

synopsis : they were inseparable, but yet they were pulled apart. after ages of not seeing each other, he still picks up your call. maybe its fate? maybe just a coincidence. but one thing’s certain — rekindling the embers to this dead fire wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

genre : fluff

pairing : dancer!leeknow x fem!dancer!reader

warnings : none

song recs to listen while reading : mystery of love - by sufjan stevens, nothing - bruno major

the day of moving has finally arrived — it seemed so far away when i first came here fresh out of high school. i hastily grabbed the keys to my new apartment from the table, before taking one last look around my now empty dorm room.

this dorm room holds a special place in my heart — it was the place where i first woke up hungover, the place where i cried the most because of dance lessons, and the place where i would always seek refuge in whenever things became too much to handle. i let out a shaky sigh, giving myself a light slap on the cheek. “c’mon, it’s finally time to get out of this hell hole and now you’re feeling nostalgic? that’s ironic.”

indeed, everyday of me waking up in university was a pain. first thing in the morning, i would have classes nonstop till noon, only to find out i have assignments that i have forgotten to do because of my extremely poor time management skills. it was actually my fault that i found managing training to become a professional dancer and being a student so hard due to the consequences of my actions. “i’ll do it later.” a very famous phrase i sported proudly, but always resulted in me cramming in all my assignments a day before the deadline. i wanted so badly for this cycle that has lasted for four whole years to end, and yet the feelings i have now is a walking contradiction of how i felt when i first came.

i let out another sigh before closing the door behind me, and locking the door to the memories that i hold dearly to me forever. well, forever is a bit dramatic. it still remains in my mind, but it is now stowed away in one of the many drawers, collecting dust.

after returning the keys to my old dorm room, i walk away from the building, only to find myself sitting down on a park bench alone, wondering to myself if becoming a professional ballet dancer was really what i wanted to do. before i could continue stewing my thoughts, my phone started to vibrate violently in my hands, bringing me back to reality.

bringing my phone up to my ear, an automated voice was heard through the speakers of my phone. “the delivery of your items will arrive shortly to your destination in thirty minutes. please be there to pick them up. beep.” oh right, my stuff. i had completely forgotten about my furniture and other items that was being delivered to my new apartment, and that was when i started to panic.

fuck, thirty minutes? i need to rush there now if i want to make it on time. i thought to myself, not wasting anymore time to rush to the train station to catch the train before i’m too late.

“what’s up?” minho’s tone was slightly shocked, and i already regret my decision to call him. i sat there in the corner of the nearly empty train compartment, now wondering if calling minho out of all people would have been a good idea to help me move in.

“hey um, it’s been quite a while.” i say awkwardly, rubbing the back of neck even though he can’t see me.

“yeah, it has.” he says coolly through the phone, but he wasted no time in getting to the point, “why did you call me?” the question hung in the air, clearly the elephant in the room. right, it’s been a year since we last talked, especially with minho taking on a huge project in his final year, i had practically no time to speak with him at all. despite us drifting apart, he was the first person i thought of calling.

“hey! can’t your best friend call you?” i joke awkwardly, panicking internally at the slightly accusatory question. however, after hearing his chuckle on the other end of the line, i let out the breath i didn’t even realise i was holding. thank god the atmosphere became less tense, or i would have crumbled right there and then in my seat.

“i never said that, but it is quite sudden. also, are you on the train? it’s quite nosy on your end.”

“yeah, i am. actually, i’m rushing to go collect my things so that i can move into my new apartment!” i say a bit too quickly, but after hearing no response, for a while, i assumed the connection got cut off. so i waited, phone in hand, leg bouncing up and down anxiously for him to reply.

the sound of foot steps coming closer to me went unheard, my anxiety overriding all my other senses. i felt a light tap on my shoulder, and my mind immediately jumps to conclusions. it can’t be him right? i think, but oh how i was right. i turn my head and there he was in the flesh. well damn.

“hi.” he says with a small grin. oh how i missed that.

“hey!” my voice came out louder than i expected, embarrassment creeping up my cheeks after seeing minho wince slightly.

“that excited to see me?” a sly grin tugs at his lips, a laugh escaping his lips. oh how i missed that too. he flicks his hand, gesturing for me to move in so that he can sit next to me. i scoot over wordlessly, still in shock that he’s here. he’s really here.

during his final year, he had to conduct his project overseas which led us to talking less, and texting less. eventually, we just stopped talking. it’s like the fire we had dwindled out completely, but seeing him here gave me hope. maybe it was the fact that it’s been ages since i last saw him, but god i missed him so much.

“you okay?” he turns to look at me, those warm brown eyes still shining as bright as ever. he looks healthier now that we’ve graduated, and understandably so. training and having to carry the weight of being the lead in a big project for our school is extremely taxing and will take a huge toll on one’s body. i find myself becoming speechless as i continue to stare at him, a bit dumbfounded at this situation.

“hello, you still there?” he waves his hand in front of my face, catching me off guard. but what makes me more shocked is his free hand resting on top of mine.

“uh- uh yeah! i’m just a little stressed, haha. with moving in and all that.” i clear my throat and try to play it off, trying my hardest to ignore the fact that my face feels like it’s burning. i avert my eyes from minho, staring holes into my shoes.

if he does notice the flush on my face, he doesn’t say anything and only nods, but his hand remains on top of mine throughout the ride to my station.

“so.. are you finally moving into that apartment?” he breaks the silence when we finally step out of the train.

“yes, thankfully i was able to snag it before someone else could.” i hear him mumble a small “i see..” before trailing off. silence settles onto us again and this time it’s awkward. i shift around uncomfortably, fiddling with the necklace that rested on my collarbone while minho texted on his phone.

“well, since i actually live near by, do you need help with moving in?” he lifts his head from looking at his phone, the anticipation in his voice going over my head. there’s the question i’ve been dying to ask. i guess the odds are in my favour this time.

“that would be nice, yeah.” i smile at him gratefully, and he returns a toothy one, his eyes curling into crescent moons. i feel my heart skip a beat, but i ignore it, continuing to smile to myself as we walked to my apartment.

when we arrived, the delivery truck has just parked, the boxes of my items already starting to get unloaded. after the items were all outside my apartment, i quickly thanked the delivery man and watched the truck speed off into the distance.

“alright, shall we start moving things in?” i turn to look at him, rolling my sleeves, but already find him looking at me. well shit.

i clear my throat again, and begin carrying as many boxes as i can manage, minho following suit behind me silently.

i was winded by the time we carried all the boxes up to my apartment, but he only looked like he went for a light jog. he finds me practically panting at door step and laughs hysterically, pulling my hand to sit down on the floor with him.

“damn, i would think that all that training you went through would help with your stamina, but i guess not.” i elbow his side when he says that, his laughter continuing to float around us like a melody. the atmosphere remained light and comfortable, with the rays of the setting sun shining into my apartment.

“hey, it’s getting a bit late.” i prod him with my finger, causing him to look at his watch. i expected him to get up and leave, but he waves his hand dismissively, saying, “it’s fine, i did say that i lived close by anyway. i’ll even help you unbox if you’d like.” his eyes glowed expectantly, his eyebrows raised. how can i say no to that? so i nod my head, earning a grin from him in return.

“god, when was this?” he laughs, shaking a faded polaroid that he held.

“what’s that?” still trying to wade my way across the sea of boxes that was my apartment. i squint, walking up to him to see the picture in between his fingers.

“is that us?” i reach out to take his hand to stabilise myself, which he extends for me grab onto. my hand remains on his arm as i look at the photo, feeling him tense up slightly. the polaroid was yellowish and faded, the edges torn and tattered. it was clear that the picture was taken quite a few years ago, the protective layer of the film peeling off.

minho clears his throat, shaking his arm to get my hand off. i pretend not to notice the flushed hue on his face as he rubs his ears slightly in an effort to conceal the redness.

all that confidence, where did it go?

taking a closer look at the photo, i was standing next to minho, both of us dressed in matching costumes that made it felt like a thousand degrees whenever we wore it. i think the light sheen of sweat on both our foreheads was quite telling of that. my arm was drapped over his shoulders a bit uncomfortably due of the height difference, with his resting lazily on the curve of my waist.

a wave of nostalgia washes over me, i instantly recognise the background of the photo, memories from three years ago coming back.

“was this from the big day?” i grin, turning over to look at minho, who was clearly being more productive than i was; taking empty boxes and stacking them on top of each other at the doorway.

he mutters a yeah, with his head deep into a box while casually rummaging through the items inside.

“i think this was the day of the show in our first year, the one where i nearly sprained my ankle before it even started,” i reminisce fondly, whilst watching minho continue to take items out of the boxes.

his head peaks out of the box, his mouth forming an “O”. he goes back to digging through my boxes and being the productive one, ignoring whatever questions i shot at him within the next few minutes.

“catch!”

“what-“ i whirl around, only to be hit with a crusty leotard and tutu.

of course, it hit me square in my face. minho broke out in a shit-eating grin, his eyes lighting up and his laughter filling the air. i cough as if i have concrete powder stuck in my lungs, wafting my hands through the air that was in front of me; the dust from the tutu and leotard filling the air thickly. i grimace, my face contorting into disgust. it was clothes that have not been washed for years thrown at my face for god’s sake.

“what was that for?” i shout, a string of curses slipping out.

he only shrugs and walks away nonchalantly, a smile creeping up onto my face the moment i see him nearly trip over a smaller box at his feet.

“now, that is something i call karma. ever heard of it?”

“shut it.” he bites out, grabbing the kitchen counter to rebalance himself. i snort, placing the tutu and leotard aside on my ‘table’, which was a large box that had my actual table inside, just unassembled.

comfortable silence settled upon us, the sound of boxes getting shuffled being the only thing filling the air. its been years since we danced in that play — i remember distinctively about how anxious the both of us were the day before the actual play; we practiced and practiced till our knees buckled whenever we stood up.

“practice makes perfect,” our ballet instructor always spoke in his posh sounding voice. in reality, instead of perfection, practice gave me bunions on my feet that never went away even after i graduated. pstd too, but we don’t talk about that.

millions of spotlights shining onto the stage and the silent anticipation from the audience was something i could never forget — i find myself yearning for that feeling of breathlessness and relief after the curtains come down to end the play, the thunderous sounds of clapping filling the air.

“i want to relive these memories again.” he mutters, finding yet another picture of us together, but in different costumes.

this time, we were much younger, probably in high school. our shoulders awkwardly brushing against each other, obviously forced by our parents to take the photo. i looked at the picture, remembering the all the times we stayed back in that academy to practice together after school, even after the sun had set just to get away from our responsibilities.

if i had to be honest, i missed it too.

“we could, you know, um,” i stutter, internally slapping myself for stumbling over my words.

“what? dance together again?” he says casually, a slight smile resting on his lips.

“yeah!” i say with a bit too much enthusiasm, the volume of my voice shocking me lightly. i purse my lips, forming an excuse to save face but he beat me to it, quickly standing to take my hands away from the dusty boxes. minho takes a shallow bow, extending his hand for me to take. i stand before him amused, but i followed suit, curtsying with my imaginary skirt.

we danced around my apartment, careful to not knock over any of the furniture. his eyes bored into mine, the darkest of brown. yet his eyes glittered brightly — brighter than any star in the sky; his adoration clearly displayed for me to see.

“as professional ballet dancers, ballroom dancing was not what i had in mind when i said i wanted to dance again.” i say a bit breathlessly, my eyes wandering everywhere but his face.

he laughs, but doesn’t reply, twirling me around before doing a large sweep, bringing our bodies closer together than it was before. “i did take classes.” he grins, only to get a smack from me in return.

“what a humble bragger you are.”

“you love it.”

“in your dreams.” i deny, yet, my smile betrays me once more.

he only smiles in return, our bodies moving in unison once more.

it was only after midnight that minho decided it was time to head back, his hands outstretched to motion for me to give him a hug. i hesitantly walk over into his arms, feeling them wrap around my waist. my breath hitches, but i snake my hands around his neck, feeling his hands tighten their grip. after a moment of us hugging in silence, he lets go and places his hands on my shoulders. “i’ll see you around, yeah?” his eyes were filled with so much fondness i think my heart melts. he pats my head gently before waving goodbye, leaving me alone in my apartment.

i slouch down, leaning my back against the door, a part of me wishing he didn’t leave. i wish i told him to stay. to stay with me for the night. for him and i to talk things out about what our status is. will we always remain best friends? will we keep the status quo? will i never get to tell him that he was really the best part of the hell that i had to walk through? i hope not.

my masterlist!

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its been such a long time since i posted any proper works lolol. but i am alive

also i have no idea how moving works lol so sorry if i get anything wrong 🕺

#skz #stray kids #leeknow #skz lee know #leeknow x reader #lee minho #skz x reader #straykids x reader #straykids #lee know x reader #straykids fluff #lee know fluff #stray kids fluff #lee minho skz #lee minho fluff

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