#really like how the colours turned out for this one :)
Text
her //kmg// pt.2
pt 2 of 'her'- the morning after reveals much to y/n, and she makes a difficult decision- one that neither her nor Mingyu seem to escape from unscathed.
Dread, shame, confusion.
The morning after a night of love shouldn't leave one feeling this way, yet here you are, lying paralysed in bed, next to a man you can't seem to figure out.
Why did he find solace in another's bed? Why was it the same woman every time? Were his words from last night even true?
Questions haunt you, floating around inside your head like ghosts in an empty castle. When one fades, another takes it's place, poking holes in your rationality, mocking you for what you've done.
How could you give in so easily? After everything he's done, after the betrayal- how could you let him in? Vulnerable and exposed, you let him see you, hear you, touch you?
Embarrassment doesn't even begin to cover what you feel.
Your skin feels sticky and each spot he touched burns into you, like red-hot metal, sizzling tender flesh. The kisses, the grip marks, every point of contact feels wrong. Of course, last night was consensual- two grown adults made a decision to spend a night together- but you can't shake that sickly feeling taking over you; a thick, dark oil, staining your skin as you sink further and further into despair.
Turning over, you let your eyes scan over Mingyu's face- sleeping peacefully, unaware of the havoc he's caused in your mind. The gentle sighs of breath, the way his lashes tickle his skin, how his lips settle into the prettiest pout- it isn't fair. None of it is.
He doesn't get to sleep like this while your mind races at a thousand miles per second. He doesn't get to live ignorantly like this.
You won't let it happen.
You won't swallow your pride and pretend like everything's okay.
Slipping out from under the covers, you head straight for a shower. Silky, warm water embraces you, washing away the stains of yesterday, only for them to resurface and solidify the past. No matter how hard you scrub, no matter how desperately you scratch, the marks remain as they are- seething red reminders of how small you made yourself for Mingyu's affections.
Before you know it, tears begin to flow- tears of shame, of humiliation. All it took was for him to say he returned your feelings, and you forgave everything. You let him touch you mere hours after he'd laid his hands on another woman- god what has happened to you?
You step into your robe, the pearly white colour of the fabric mocking you as if to say- "you're the shell of who you once were."
Time passes as it usually does, and you find yourself at the breakfast table, staring into the distance. Your mind has finally settled to a conclusion.
This must end.
As you sit, unmoving, Mingyu begins to stir from his sleep. An arm extends itself out of habit, feeling for your body beside him, and he jolts awake when his skin comes in contact with cold, lifeless cloth.
Panic fills his nerves in the flash of a second and he scrambles out of bed, stumbling over to the hall. Clumsy, frantic feet thud along the ground and he calls out your name, voice hoarse as if holding back a sob.
"I'm here," you state, eyes still fixed at the wall.
Mingyu feels his muscles slump back into relaxation. You're still here. You didn't leave.
"I uh, I thought... Never mind, have you eaten?" he grins, eyes sparkling as he gazes at you lovingly, "I'll fix something up for us- what do you feel like eating? something soup-y? pancakes? eggs? I make really good eggs-"
"last night was a mistake."
His voice fades to a deathly still. The luster in his eyes dulls to a cold brown and he slumps down onto the chair opposite yours.
"oh." he says softly.
"I've had some time to think..."
"and?"
"I don't think we should live together. Or be together. No matter what your reasons were, Mingyu, the fact remains the same- you cheated on me. Nothing will change that, nothing will make that go away."
Mingyu leans forward, tears springing in the corners of his eyes. "I'm sorry, y/n- I wish I could c-"
"I know you're sorry. Trust me, I know, Mingyu- but you've done this to yourself. You've been aware of every decision as you made it, you did what you did, knowing fully well that it was wrong. There's no forgiving that. Whatever our feelings are, it doesn't matter anymore."
His head hangs low as your words tear into him. You're right, after all. He did in fact cheat on you. It was his decision, his choice. It's unfair for you to suffer because of his mistakes.
"I'll come back for my things sometime this week." you sigh, moving from your seat, taking hold of your handbag, "Goodbye, Mingyu."
A few days have passed, and you've settled into an expensive hotel, gathering yourself together as other things call for your attention.
Formalities make divorces so much harder than they need to be...
While you sort through legal matters with your family lawyer, Mingyu finds himself falling into a dangerously dark hole. You've been gone all of three days and he's lost himself completely. He hasn't slept, hasn't gone outside, hasn't eaten- it's as if he's lost his will to live.
Your words haunt him, echoing in his head over and over. Desperately, he's tried to silence his thoughts, tried to chase away your voice, but he can't. What makes it all so much worse, is that he knows you're right.
This is all his fault, after all. He really has done this to himself, and he's hurt you too in the bargain.
It's late in the evening, the sky outside flushes dark grey clouds along, as a faint outline of the moon peeks through. Winds howl terribly all around, hinting at the storm that is to come.
The doorbell rings, echoing through the empty house, startling Mingyu out of his daze. Sloppily, he treads to the door, cracking it open to reveal an unfamiliar face.
"can I help you-?" he mutters, eyes skimming lazily over the suited man before him.
"Mister Kim Mingyu? I'm Miss Y/n's lawyer. I understand you've separated, yes?"
Just when he thought he couldn't sink lower than he already has, Mingyu feels his stomach drop as he descends into anguish.
He's smart enough to gauge what's happening. You're legitimizing the divorce- making it real in the eyes of the law.
"sir?"
A voice pulls him back to reality, and he lifts his head up, nodding as he motions for the man to come inside. Dull, confused footsteps lead into the living area and Mingyu takes a seat on the couch, beckoning your lawyer to do the same.
"There are papers you are required to sign, sir." he begins, reaching into his bag to pull out a stack of crisp white sheets, stapled perfectly.
Mingyu stares dumbly at the paper, back hunched, throat dry. He's frozen. There's not a thought in his head, not a sensation in his body.
A minute passes in silence, and he stays unmoved.
The man clears his throat, clicking his pen open before handing it to Mingyu.
"here, you can use mine," he forces an encouraging smile, feeling his heart break at Mingyu's disheveled state. Although he's been made aware of your situation, Mingyu's helpless state tugs at his heartstrings and he can't help but feel sympathetic towards the latter.
"th-thank you,"
With shaky hands, Mingyu takes hold of the pen, stopping at the blank spot resigned for his signature. An indescribable pressure weighs him down. His future, his love, his sanity all sit under the blade of this guillotine- a mere pen.
This pen might just be mightier than any sword he'll ever face.
Sensing his reluctance, the suited man places a hand on his shoulder-
"Forgive me for speaking out of turn, I know we don't know each other- but I've, uh, I've seen this before. I've handled cases like this before and all I can say to make this easier is that you're doing this for her. Not for yourself. If you truly feel guilty for the past, if you truly love her, this is the way you give her her pride back. This is how you can do what's good for her."
His words spur Mingyu into action, resonating deep within the latter's being. Letting you go is unbearable. It stings and burns and swells all at once, but if it lets you heal, if it's good for you, he'll do it in a second.
Scribbling his signature onto the bottom of the page, Mingyu hands the papers over.
"thank you," he says, genuinely this time, "is she-" he hesitates, "is she doing okay?"
The man smiles sadly, rising to his feet- "I'm afraid that's a breach of confidentiality, sir"
And just like that, he's gone, leaving Mingyu alone once again. He settles into bed, draping your blanket over himself as his mind floods over with thoughts of you.
"I hope she doesn't think I gave up on us..."
Then, like a soaring wave, it hits him. What if you think he's taking the easy way out and that his feelings aren't real? What if you expected him to throw a fit and come swoop you up from whatever hotel you're hidden away in?
"fuck-" he curses under his breath, digging around the sheets for his phone.
Mingyu types out a messy apology, pawing at his phone with thick fingers.
"I hope you don't think I'm giving up. As much as I wanted to fight for you, as much as I wanted to rip those papers to shreds, I know this is what you deserve- a shot at real love. Love that doesn't hurt you like I did. I love you so much, Y/n, but you're right, this is my mistake. You shouldn't be the one to suffer for it. I'm sorry for it all. Letting you go is the hardest thing I'll do, but it's what I deserve now. I had the world in my hands and I gave it up for nothing."
Your lip quivers as you read his words. There's a sense of defeat in his tone, as if realization has finally hit and he's understood the gravity of his actions.
Despite his acceptance of your decision, you feel a sharp pang of hurt deep inside your chest. You're doing the right thing. You're protecting yourself. You're being strong.
So, why does it hurt this bad?
Unfocused eyes begin to water, dripping salty puddles onto the screen below, and you realize you're crying.
Mingyu's words from that night play in your head, like a devastating melody, planting seeds of doubt where revenge and empowerment were beginning to grow.
You need to snap out of this.
Now.
Surely, one text message shouldn't have you forgetting all the pain he's caused. You simply cannot give in.
"It's late." you tell yourself, hoping that speaking aloud will give you some semblance of authority over your frenzied feelings, "gotta get some rest"
While you drift off to sleep, Mingyu's thoughts hone in on you, just like they have all these nights. Lying on your side of the bed, huddled in a swarm of your blanket and clothes, he does his best to pretend like you're still here.
He curses himself for that night, chastises himself for all the nights before. There really is no excuse, no explanation that could make what he did okay- he knows- which is why, he's leaving you alone. No matter how much pain he's in, no matter how many bottles he's downed, Mingyu doesn't let his toils bother you.
No drunk phone calls, no angry visits, not even a text. Not one attempt to try and beg you to change your mind.
Ironically, the respect he extends now, by leaving you alone, makes you feel worse somehow. Guilty, even.
Taking a deep inhale, Mingyu lets your fading scent flood his senses, and instantly, the memories come flooding in- how you kissed him so tenderly, how your skin tasted, how you came alive under his touch.
"fuck," he whispers, voice trembling, "if I knew that night would be the last time I could touch you-"
Oh, he'd worship you.
Mingyu pictures it- clear as day.
He would've held you tight in his arms, pressing his forehead to yours as you share one breath. He would've kissed you so deeply, making sure to commit your taste to memory, pushing further, harder, until his own mortality forced him to pull away.
When your face fell at the sight of her marks, Mingyu would've kissed your eyes and placed your hand on his heart saying- "you hear that? that's all for you, my love- no one else, just you". And if that didn't do the trick, he'd be more than willing to dig those marks out of his skin, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much it bled.
Most of all, he'd savor you.
As he crawls down your body, he would kiss every inch of your skin, thanking you for letting him. No God could give him this power, no divine force could allow him to touch you- only you had that authority.
And that, makes you greater than any God he's ever prayed to.
Each kiss would be deliberate, slow. He'd close his eyes, brows set in a deep furrow as his lips take you in greedily, like Jesus' first disciple eating at the Eucharist.
Mingyu feels himself grow hard at the thought- being so close to you, kissing you, feeling you. He takes in a shaky breath to compose himself, but in vain.
It has no effect.
No number of breaths, no volume of alcohol, no hours of sleep will ever be enough to push you away.
So, he gives in.
A hand sneaks down under the blanket, beyond the waistband of Mingyu's sweatpants, ghosting over his cock. He hisses as his fingers graze the reddened tip, hips jerking up to chase that feeling.
Letting his thoughts resume, Mingyu works himself in time with his imagination.
His hands explore your skin, soothing their way down to where you need him most. You tremble under his touch, back arching when he puts his mouth to your cunt.
Eagerly, he laps at your slit, taking in your sweet-salt taste- so addictive he's sure this is all he needs now. Not food, not shelter, not money- just you.
You writhe under him, slipping your hands into his hair, tugging at his locks, and his eyes roll back. The sting of his scalp only spurs him on, and his tongue prods your clit in rapid bursts.
"Mingyu-" you choke out, his name like a plea on your lips.
He sucks harder, pushes you further, and dips his tongue inside you, nudging into your pulsating core. It takes you by surprise, and you can't help the cry that escapes you-
"Mingyu!"
As you tighten around him, Mingyu devours you from the inside out, swallowing every last drop you have to offer, coaxing as much as he can from you until you're spent.
"Mingyu," you moan, clutching his hair tighter as you feel your release mere seconds away, "Min-"
"Mingyu"
A sticky white pool of shame sits at the groove of his thumb, collecting in the dip between his fingers.
"shit."
Stupefied by disbelief, Mingyu stays deathly still. It's pathetic, honestly. He's aware of how he must look, aware of how wrong it is to use you for his own pleasure, but he just can't help himself.
He really can't.
#seventeen#seventeen smut#kim mingyu#svt smut#smut#her#her pt 2#mingyu#kim mingyu seventeen#seventeen mingyu#mingyu x reader#pt 3 coming soon !!#he's such a loser here#loser mingyu#svt
193 notes
·
View notes
Text
I’m sorry
Alexia Putellas x reader
Not strong enough part 2
Warnings: ehhhhhh
As you finished your heartfelt words, a heavy silence hung in the air. Alexia looked at you, her expression shifting from anger to a mix of surprise and realization. The weight of your words seemed to settle on her shoulders, and for a moment, it felt like time had come to a standstill.
She hesitated, the fiery intensity in her eyes dimming. "Y/n, I... I didn't realize... I didn't understand," she stammered, her voice softer now. But you had already made up your mind, the pain of constant comparisons and belittlement becoming too much to bear.
You zipped up your bag, your movements steady, and headed towards the door. "I need time to figure things out, Ale. Maybe we both do," you said calmly, looking into her eyes one last time before stepping out into the night.
A year had passed, a whirlwind year filled with nerves and a newfound sense of self. You'd quit your accounting job, a bold move fuelled by the bitter taste of Alexia's words. Following a suppressed passion, you began painting again, sketching again, falling back in love with art again. Your talent blossomed, your designs vibrant and imbued with a quiet strength. Freelance gigs trickled in, then flowed abundantly. Your apartment, once sterile and beige, became a reflection of your creativity - bold colours, quirky furniture, and walls plastered with your artwork.
Life wasn't perfect, but it was undeniably yours. You were thriving, a quiet confidence radiating from you. The ache for Alexia had dulled to a distant memory.
Still you hadn't expected the air to get caught in your lungs when you saw her. Alexia. Here at your gallery, a forced smile plastered on her face. Her eyes darted around the room, a flicker of desperation replacing the usual arrogance. As you mingled with guests, she edged towards you, her face a mask of unease. Alexia, her once-golden glow dimmed by a weary tiredness. The memory of her hurtful words a distant echo.
Suddenly, a hand tapped your shoulder. You turned, surprised to see Alexia standing so awkwardly behind you. Her once fiery gaze was dimmed, replaced by a flicker of something that resembled… regret.
"They're incredible," she mumbled, gesturing towards your photos.
You offered a polite smile, the years of therapy showing their worth. "Thank you, Alexia." Alexia couldn't help but wince still at the use of her full name.
"Can we... talk?" she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.
Hesitantly, you led her to a deserted corner.
"I..." Alexia started, then stopped. Finally, the words tumbled out in a rush. "I was an idiot. A complete and utter one. You were right. I never saw you, not really. All I saw was a reflection of Jenni, a way to fill a void. But you, Y/N, you were a light in my darkness, the one who loved me for me, even when I didn't deserve it."
Tears welled up in her eyes, a stark contrast to the icy queen she used to be and you couldn't help the surprised expression that graced you features for a second at the sight. "I miss you," she confessed, her voice cracking. "I miss your smile, your quiet strength, the way you believed in me even when I doubted myself."
You listened, a million emotions swirling within you. The anger had subsided, replaced by a deep sense of peace.
"Alexia," you began gently, "I saw your work," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It's incredible, Y/N. You're incredible."
A flicker of warmth sparked in your chest, a remnant of the love you once held. But it was quickly extinguished.
"I'm happy," you said, your voice firm. "Here, with this. I don't need to be anyone's trophy, Alexia, I don't need to be your trophy, I'm enough now, and i've realised i've always been enough"
Alexia's eyes welled up. "I know," she choked out. "I see it now. And I miss you. God, how I miss you."
You shook your head, a sad smile playing on your lips. "Missing someone doesn't mean they're the right fit for you, Alexia. We both needed to grow in different directions."
You sighed tears welling in your own eyes now "You needed to learn to love yourself without me or Jenni, and I needed to find myself, my own voice. What we had was beautiful in its own way, but it wasn't meant to last."
The truth hung heavy in the air. Alexia, finally seeing you for who you truly were, an independent, talented woman, was a sight that would have ached you a year ago. Now, it was a mere footnote in the grand story of your life.
A tear escaped, tracing a glistening path down her cheek. "Is there any chance...?" she started, hope flickering in her eyes.
You considered it for a moment. The anger was gone, replaced by a quiet understanding.
The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken possibilities. You looked at the painting to your left your eyes catching your favourite painting, a testament to your resilience still Alexia's mark had been left on it a small crown on the top left corner, blended so well that only you knew it was there. The future stretched before you, open and bright. A small, hopeful smile touched your lips.
"Maybe," you finally said. "But not today. Today, I celebrate my success."
Disappointment clouded her features, but there was also a flicker of understanding and hope.
As you turned to rejoin your friends, her voice stopped you. "Y/N," Alexia called out, her voice raw with emotion. "Thank you. For everything. And for showing me what I lost."
You offered a small smile, a silent promise of maybe hanging in the air she just had to be patient. You walked away, leaving Alexia with the echoes of your laughter and the realisation that sometimes, an angel can be worth more, mean more than any god. You had found your voice, your wings, and you were ready to soar. The world was vast, brimming with possibilities, and you, the once-disappointment girlfriend, were finally ready to claim your place in it.
#woso#woso fanfics#woso one shot#woso imagine#alexia putellas x you#alexia putellas x y/n#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas
243 notes
·
View notes
Text
dancing in the moonlight ｜ haitani ran x f!reader
in the summer of 2005, you and ran meet under a shooting star. even now, years down the road, ran still finds himself enchanted by you and everything you are.
[content] sfw, mentions of sex, summer love (i guess), bonten timeline
[word count] 7.1k
[note] happy birthday to my princess, ran haitani (∗˃̶ ᵕ ˂̶∗) ♡ (this took me forever to post because i was too lazy to edit :x)
“You are always up here these days, Mr. Haitani.”
A soft and feminine voice breaks Ran from his daze, he spares the woman a short glance before turning his attention back to the bustling city below, to the blinding billboard screens in his line of vision, and there is only one that has his complete attention. Like it always has, and always will.
He doesn’t know her name, but he does recognise her as one of the new hires from a few months ago, he thinks she may be Takeomi’s new secretary, or assistant, something like that, but he doesn’t care enough to figure it out. He leans against the metal rail, taking out a pack of cigarettes, noticing there is only one left, and lifts the last cigarette to his mouth as he stuffs the empty pack into his slack pockets. He lights it, inhaling, pulling the smoke deep into his lungs. A plane passes by overhead, the scenery around him dims. It’s dark gray and the world fades. Only for a split moment.
Hearing your name leaving her bold red lips catches his attention, he immediately coughs, sputtering out the smoke. “Oh, do you know her? She’s been gaining a lot of popularity lately due to a new movie releasing.”
He clears his throat, his cheeks light pink and the back of his neck heating up in slight embarrassment as he shakes his head. “No. I actually don’t know much about celebrities…”
“Aw, really? Well, you are a busy man, Mr. Haitani, so that’s no surprise, but I do recommend watching her films,” she replies, coyly gazing at him through fluttering lashes.
“Yeah? Is that so…”
“Yeah! Well, she has only been in two small projects before this, and they weren’t really well-known due to the genre but there was a new one that was released a few days ago…” she slowly trails off, her manicured nail slides against the metal rail, a quiet screech, and Ran knows what she is going to ask before the words leave her lips. “Maybe we could, um, go see it together? If you want, of course…”
He chuckles at her simple predictability, her boldness, his eyes rack over her face then down her body, her neatly put together outfit that clings perfectly to her figure, and Ran lowly hums. He doesn’t like red, he’s never been fond of the colour. It’s not the first time he’s been approached by a colleague, and he finds things like this amusing, cute, and tiring. He’s surprised this woman is able to speak to him without being a stuttering mess like most of the people that work for him — for Bonten Inc.
She is quite cute, not his type, more like the type of girl Takeomi is into (he chooses them well, Ran is surprised), but he still sends her his signature smirk before turning his head away. From his peripheral vision, he catches sight of her cheeks reddening more. She is so easy to understand, he almost laughs.
“Maybe,” he lazily replies, a sliver of hope he gives, all well knowing he easily takes it away as he gives it — with the way the girl perks up at his word, smiling happily to herself, it’s almost too cruel of him. He brings his cigarette back to his lips, deeply inhaling the bitter smoke as his eyes lift back to the billboard screen to meet you, faraway, worlds away from him.
—
In the summer of 2005, Ran is eighteen when he and Rindō get into a fight – a serious fight – nothing like their usual bickering and playful banners. It started over nothing, only small talk about the S-62 generation and how Izana will be out soon, by the end of the year if not sooner (he is only allowed out earlier by good behaviour which is highly unlikely).
And then the mention of gangs and expanding their territory, things become more serious and what lit the fire was Ran laughing beneath his breath at Rindō’s suggestion (the idea was not logical and takes too much effort), uttering something about how stupid it was. Rindō is not one to back down from petty remarks – he never has – which often leads to full-blown arguments, or even fights. When Rindō bites back, Ran likes to bite harder and lower, he likes to hit in places where it causes others to be unable to breathe.
It’s a mixed exchange of harsh words, yelling, and shoving. Rindō doesn’t understand him, too exhausted, stressed, and blood boiling, neither of them want to back down. It ends with Ran slamming the door shut, leaving their shared apartment to cool his head. His feet lead him towards the train station, and without much thought, he finds himself sitting on the blue cushion, going to who knows where.
It is barely evening when Ran hops off the train and finds himself all the way in Nikkō. Two hours away from home. He has never set foot in the Tochigi Prefecture before, the air here feels so fresh compared to Tokyo, the backdrop of the tall sacred mountains is something he doesn’t see back at home. It’s surreal, so beautiful. A calm, quiet detour, away from everything and the bright, bustling city he knows.
Ran doesn’t know what he’s doing; he is not too concerned though, mindlessly walking around to take in the view before stopping by a local restaurant. He eats cold soba noodles, flipping open his phone: no new messages or calls. He sighs.
Rindō is still upset with him (to which Ran believes to be unfair because he barely said anything wrong), and it is starting to get late, and he is getting exhausted, his body feels sticky from the humidity, so he decides to stay in Nikkō for one night. While walking around looking for a hotel for the night, he passes by an old inn, a jingle echoes in the night air, a soft scent of floral rushes past him, he inhales, and someone crashes straight into him.
During twilight in the summer of ‘05, the evening sun is fading, vibrant orange seeps into the horizon as a blanket of dark blue and black takes over, a shooting star passes by without him ever noticing, and Ran first meets you.
—
The boy you met last evening — the one you had accidentally bumped into on your way back from your break was on your mind for a while last night (he still is) and you think he might be more attractive than the idols you like. Something like that seemed impossible until now. He said his name is Ran, and you think there couldn’t be a name that suits him more than that.
When your boss, Ms. Sasaki, calls you this morning to ask you to grab lunch for her and bring it to the inn, you immediately agree — wanting to see her (and maybe the boy from last night). You decide on getting her favourite teriyaki tofu, your sandals click loudly against the pavement as you rush over to the inn before the food cools. Ms. Sasaki only eats hot food, even during the hot summers, and you are the same.
Unexpectedly, you run into the boy from yesterday right away, and he thanks you for showing him to the inn, asking if you weren’t working today because he didn’t see you around earlier.
“Oh, yes, I only work here part-time…” Was he looking for you? The idea of a handsome stranger waiting to see you makes your heart flutter, skipping a beat.
“Today is my day off, but I came by to give something to someone… Um, have you eaten yet? I know a good ramen place around here,” you try to casually ask, eyes flickering from him to the floor, heart beating, you suddenly wish you had worn something a lot prettier.
“Mm, sure—” he pauses, looking down at the navy yukata he’s wearing, before saying, “let me just change out of this and then we can go, alright? Gimme a second, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.
Your cheeks heat up at the unexpected pet name, you softly bite your lip in embarrassment, nodding your head as he leaves. He doesn’t take long to get dressed, he returns in the clothes he had worn last night, a simple pair of black pants and gray sweatshirt, his two-toned hair is once again put into two braids — you assume it is his go-to hairstyle. He looks comfortable and pretty and you try not to stare. You take him through the small city, through the gray streets and passing dull houses, leading him to one of your favourite ramen restaurants.
“So…” you trail off, gazing around the restaurant in hopes that Ran (you learned his surname today on the walk here — Haitani. Ran Haitani. Orchid. Ash valley. You think he suits his name very much) would say something to start a conversation. However, he doesn’t, his eyes lift to meet yours across the wooden table and he sends you a small smirk.
“So?” he questions, not starting a conversation, which you believe to be on purpose from the way his eyes don’t leave your form and how the edges of his mouth are curved into a seemingly polite smile. He is studying you.
You wished he would’ve asked you a question, or said anything first, however you are curious about him, you have a few questions, ones seemingly more important than the other the more you think. You decide on a simple one. “Where are you from?”
“I am from Roppongi.”
“Oh… yes, that makes sense.”
He chuckles at your response. “Indeed, I’m sure it does.”
“Mhm, you have that air to you,” you agree. Your food arrives, you thank the waiter as he places a bowl of miso ramen in front of you, tonkotsu for Ran, and a plate of gyoza in the middle to share. “Why did you decide to come to Nikkō? Is it your first time?”
“I heard it’s beautiful here, it definitely is…” his lavender eyes slowly consume you, and you nervously gulp. “I am just sightseeing.”
You nod at his words, taking a bite from your ramen before the noodles get too soggy, moaning in delight at the rich taste. Nothing beats the ramen here, you think, the chef is one of the best. Ever.
Ran asks you if you would like to show him around Nikkō, you look up at him surprised, ultimately finding yourself agreeing, to which he calls you his little tour guide.
He directs the conversation to you: asking about your interests, how long you’ve been working at the inn, and simple little questions about your life. You do your best to answer them without oversharing.
He jokes saying he hopes he isn’t taking up your free time with having you as his tour guide.
You say you don’t mind and he flashes you a pretty smile that causes unfamiliar blue butterflies to invade your stomach.
You ask how long he will be staying for, he says only for a few days.
—
On his second day here, Ran wakes from his deep slumber to the sound of his phone ringing. Squinting as his eyes adjust to the bright lighting and the small font on the screen. Rindō.
Ran audibly sighs while bringing his phone to his ear. He was enjoying his sleep, he thinks he had a sweet dream, one he hasn’t had in a long time. “What is it, Rindō? It’s too early for this.”
“It’s far past noon and you weren’t home yesterday either. Where are you? You passed out at a hotel? Kakuchō’s or some woman’s place?”
Ran grunts, sitting up as he stretches his body, his brother’s endless questions slowly processing through his brain. “Uh… Nikkō? Yeah, ‘m in Nikkō right now.”
“Nikkō…” Rindō slowly repeats. “You’re in Nikkō right now?”
“Mhm.”
His brother’s heavy sigh is clearly mixed in with the static – poor connection in this area, he assumes – and it’s silent for a few more moments. “So you ran away because we fought. What the hell is wrong with you?” His words aren’t harsh, he says them in disbelief at his actions and Ran shrugs his shoulders as if Rindō is able to see him.
“I’m just taking a breather. Did you not tell me to?”
“I didn’t mean that you should run to the other side of Japan,” Ran scoffs at Rindō’s exaggeration. Nikkō is only two hours away from Roppongi. Little crybaby, he thinks, some things don’t change. “You are so—” Rindō takes another deep breath, “when are you coming back?”
“Why are you asking? Do you miss me or are you ready to apologise to me?”
It goes silent. Ran can hear the sound of the summer birds chirping away.
“No. I don’t care so do whatever you want, Ran. I’m hanging up now.”
“No need to be so mad, chill, I was just asking.” No response. So typical. “Whatever. Bye then,” his voice laced with annoyance, his little brother is too stubborn – a trait Ran assumes he got from him – Rindō doesn’t reply, instantly hanging up. And Ran knows everything is alright again. In a few days, or even hours, everything will go back to how it always is.
Little things like this aren’t enough to even dent their unwavering bond.
(Rindō sends him a picture of him and Shion later that day, in a dim karaoke room full of people he doesn’t recognise in the background — he thinks that may be Kakuchō’s hand in the picture. He’s not even sure how they managed to get that kid to tag along.
Ran replies with a picture of his bare foot, Rindō sends him a series of disgusted emoticons and a middle finger up, to which Ran smiles at the reaction.)
—
“Wow. I feel like I was transported back into the Edo period.”
You smile at his words as he looks around seemingly awestruck — you assume that they don’t have something like this in Roppongi. Nikkō is quite well known for its Edo village, after all. “That’s a good thing to hear, it’s supposed to feel like that.”
“It’s like another world here…” he says.
You softly giggle to yourself, but he catches you hiding your laugh behind your hand and rolls his eyes. “So I can’t be excited and think something is cool without you laughing about it?”
“I just think it’s kinda cute of you…”
“I think you’re pretty cute,” your face flushes at his directness and how casually those words slip from his lips and he smirks at your reaction. “Now you aren’t laughing, hm?”
You huff, rolling your eyes. “Gosh, you are so childish, Ran. I wasn’t saying it to make fun of you, it was a compliment.”
“My words were a compliment too. I mean it, you know.”
You simply hum in response, you don’t take his words to heart. (They have already invaded your beating heart, setting themselves into the little place.)
Ran is dressed up as a samurai, adorn in a deep purple silk hakama, plain sandals, and a katana adorned on his hip (Ran constantly runs his fingers over the halt, unfortunately it is only a prop because he and Rindō are really into this kind of thing), and you, just a regular town girl.
You lead him around to sightsee the village — all of the old little shops, mini games, and food, and everyone greets the two of you in character. He seems to be enjoying himself — especially when his eyes lit up like a child during the ninja show and boat ride which makes you smile happily.
“I see you are quite popular here,” he points out after an old man had greeted you and said your name.
“Well, I do work here part-time.”
“Oh? You work here too? What do you do?”
You nod, saying, “mhm, only during the summertime. I act as a courtesan.”
“To think I have such a beautiful courtesan all to myself today,” he says whimsically, swiftly taking your hand in his, bringing it up to place a kiss on the back of your hand. “I am quite blessed, aren’t I?”
You giggle at the charming gesture. “All for you, Mr. Haitani,” you reply, playing along with him. He plants a gentle kiss, those pretty lavender eyes never leaving yours, you almost forget to breathe. His lips linger on the delicate skin of your hand for a second too long, you softly bite your bottom lip feeling shy, before he lets go. You ignore the disappointment you feel when his hand lets go of yours. “But I am a zashikimochi for the play. It's a comedy.”
“I would love to see the play sometime. I love comedy,” he says as the two of you continue to aimlessly walk around side by side.
“Thank you, I don’t speak much in it, but maybe you would enjoy it. A lot of tourists come to see it,” you explain to him. “It’s pretty fun to perform, but it does get hot and tiring.”
You don’t think Ran is the type to go and watch a play during his free time, he does not seem like the type to enjoy theatre despite how he presents himself — all charismatic and flashy, surrounded by vibrant purple and gold, he is eye-catching and everyone notices him everywhere he goes. Though, you think Ran is quite different around you; he is sweet and sleepy and likes to playfully annoy you. He is really cute and charming and the more you are around him, the more you want to see Ran, not Ran Haitani, just Ran. You want to know who he is beneath everything, who he is with his precious little brother and his heart that is carefully caged.
“Line or no line, I would still pay to see you.”
“You would?” you ask, curiously looking up at him, heart fluttering and light.
“Mhm. I believe the zashikimochi was pretty expensive back then, but for you, I definitely would. I’d be your highest paying customer.”
Ran is no longer talking about seeing the play, insinuating that if you two were in the Edo period, he would pay for your company if you were a courtesan. You think he would be the eldest son of a high ranking officer, son of a lord, or maybe a rich travelling merchant. All of them suit him. He has that luxurious air to him, a man shrouded in mystery, money, and a hint of danger that lingers behind his sweet smile and gleams in his enchanting eyes.
“Oh, wow, just to spend some time with me? I’m quite flattered.”
“That’s right. And I’d make sure that I am your only customer. We would spend all day together and the long nights too.” The moment those words leave his mouth, you roll your eyes, playfully pushing him away from you.
“Oh, you. Don’t push it now.”
He laughs, gently nudging you with his arm. “No? Are you saying you wouldn’t enjoy it?”
“There is no way I would.”
—
During the days you aren’t working, you spend all of them with Ran, you spend almost every moment of the day with him. Even while you are working at the inn, sometimes he’ll stop you in the hallway to say hi, which leads him to distract you and this gets you scolded by Ms. Sasaki when you aren’t careful. Sometimes, he will usher you into his private room once you hear light footsteps coming down the hall. Quiet and mischievous giggles you both try to suppress. A little secret. Ran’s presence is welcoming, so familiar, the little changes he brings into your life are visible, it’s colourful and warm like the summertime, just like this summer with him.
—
Ran is not one for the outdoors, he believes in admiring nature from inside his comfy home, however you dragged him out of the inn this morning to go on a hike. He laughed it off at first, saying you’re so strange, until it dawned on him a moment later that you’re serious about it. And before he can refuse by saying he has no clothes for that, you toss him a pair of men’s clothing saying you thrifted them last night. And to make matters worse, the outfit is a fashion abomination.
He would rather be dead than being caught in this outfit. If he were back in Roppongi wearing this, he thinks it would be the end of his reputation. However he isn’t in Roppongi, he is in Nikkō and nobody knows him except you. Only you. With your pleading face, your eyes staring up at him so hopefully, begging him to join you so you won’t be alone, Ran can’t help but cave into your desires.
Walking for so long was not made for Ran — however the view is beautiful, Nikko is well-known for this, which is what makes it a popular tourist place. Crossing the bright red bridge and walking uphill for what he swears was hours, doesn’t seem so bad now.
He thinks about Rindō. He’s worried about him, he misses his brother a lot and wants to go back home to see him — it’s been two weeks since he’s been here and Rindō keeps calling him every night. Ran wants to go home, he wants to eat his favourite Mont Blanc at the café he likes, and he needs to go to his regular hair salon to retouch his hair – the one here won’t do – there is nothing better than Roppongi to him, his home, half of his soul, but a part of him (his heart) doesn’t want to leave this place. He doesn’t want to leave you.
Ran believes there is probably something wrong with him. You are just a random girl he met, he barely knows you, yet as cliché as it sounds, he feels as if he’s known you his whole life. There are probably hotter girls down in Shinjuku or Shibuya, but for some reason, Ran knows they won’t do — they aren’t you. Something about you is so captivating and he can’t look away. His heart longs for you and every one of your smiles. Maybe he is a fool, but the feelings you bring him are divine and he’s willing to burn in the fire.
“I want to get out of here one day,” you say as the two of you sit on a wooden bench dated back to 1987 with a clear view of the nature around. The sun is shining down, the heat is too much for Ran, however the shade underneath the large tree helps block out the sun rays.
He leans forward, tilting his head to get a view of your expression. “You don’t like it here?”
Your head is slightly tilted up, gazing longingly at the clouds, eyes shimmering against the summer sun. The cicadas drone louder and louder, you are looking off in the distance, somewhere far from here. Far away. To neon blinding lights. Seagulls and the never ending ocean. A bustling city that never sleeps. To the shining stars above. “I do, but I want to become someone. I want to go to Tokyo and become an actress,” you reply, finally turning to him as you lean a little closer, “what do you think?”
He smiles the moment your eyes meet him, his reply comes instantly, “I think you should come to Roppongi with me.”
Your hands are close to his, close enough that if one of you moved another inch, you would be holding each other. However, you don’t move, neither does he; your hands remain untouched. A sense of distance he doesn’t like, a distance he wishes to close.
“I’m saving up money to buy a decent apartment and I also want to repay Ms. Sasaki—”
“Sasaki?” he asks, the name sounds familiar, but he can’t put it to a face.
“Yes. She’s the okami of the ryokan you’ve been staying at… you haven’t met her? I am positive that you have.”
“Um, probably, but I only remember you when you are working so…” he replies, smiling sheepishly at you, and you roll your eyes, turning your head away from him.
“She is a really kind lady. She helped me out when I had nobody and I don’t think I would be here without her… I owe her a lot, you know?” you carefully speak these words, pausing before continuing, “I am really thankful to have met her.”
Ran doesn’t comment on whatever hidden meanings your words have, he only hums in acknowledgment, never forgetting them. He didn’t expect you to know the owner or the owner’s wife – whichever one Ms. Sasaki may be – and maybe that’s why he has been allowed to stay for weeks, the amount he has paid wasn’t too expensive either, surprisingly.
Ran tells you he wishes to see you on the big screen one day, he knows if anyone would make it, it would be you, and you only laugh while trying to hide your bashful smile.
Ran tells you he has to go back home soon, you quietly say you know.
He takes your hand in his, and you don’t let go.
—
Ran walks you back to your one room apartment and you hesitantly invite him inside, slightly embarrassed to be having him see your living conditions – especially a man like Ran – but he never comments on it.
You make dinner with the leftover ingredients you have in your fridge. It’s nothing too fancy, only a simple bowl of gyūdon with poached egg on top. Ran tells you his brother really likes this, it’s one of his favourites (Ran doesn’t mention he prefers it with raw egg over poached, he still eats it). Ran flatters you the entire meal, saying he has never had such a delicious meal before, you know it’s not true, because he’s eaten from the local restaurants here and nothing could ever beat them. You tell him flattery gets him nowhere.
You show him a tape Ms. Sasaki had given you — a video she took of you performing as a courtesan for the first time last summer. It’s embarrassing to watch so you don’t keep your eyes on the screen, constantly glancing over to Ran to catch sight of his reaction, however, much to your surprise he doesn’t react in any way. You would’ve assumed he was zoning out if he hadn’t looked over at you and ruffled your hair before turning back to the screen.
You never took Ran as the silent watcher type. When the tape is over, you ask him what he thinks, and he looks at you smiling so tenderly, a noticeable shift in the air, and you don’t know who leans in first. At first it only lasts a split second, only a chaste kiss, but Ran kisses you again. This time more intensely. Your heart pounding beneath the thin fabric of your top, you are sure Ran can feel your heart in his hand. His slender fingers running over the cup of your bra, he squeezes once, then pauses to ask if this is okay with you.
You nervously tell Ran you’ve never done this with someone before, he doesn’t react when you say it, he only asks for you to trust him. He’s as sweet and gentle as he is teasing — he touches you so carefully as if he’s afraid to hurt you with his touch, yet his lust-fogged purple eyes are gleaming with mischief. He doesn’t continue unless you talk to him, you have to tell him what you want. You like Ran, you really do. You want him so much.
You grow self-conscious under his intense stare, your attempt to hide yourself is futile, Ran pins your arms above your head and frowns. He tells you he has never seen someone as beautiful as you, that nothing could ever compare to your beauty. It’s almost scary how honest his words sound, how gentle he is with you, and how easily you believe him, your worries vanishing.
The pale moonlight is seeping through the old curtains in your room, Ran’s features are glistening against it. He looks ethereal under the moon. He kisses you so frighteningly tender, the thought of him leaving makes you tear up, you hold onto him tighter, wanting to be impossibly closer as he pushes himself deep into you, moaning in sync as you become one.
Ran holds you close to him all night, he plants kisses and blooming deep purple marks all over your body; a valley of pretty little orchids just for the two of you to ever see. When the sun peeks through the horizon, Ran kisses you one last time before you two drift off to sleep.
—
By afternoon, you watch Ran board the train back to Roppongi. You watch in a trance until the train is no longer in your sight of vision, misty-eyed and blue. Very blue.
—
It’s New Year’s Eve when you see Ran again. Tears springing in your eyes the moment you see him, you immediately run into his arms and he holds you tightly. “Hi. I got these for you,” he says into your ear.
He hands you a bouquet filled with pretty purple orchids and white lilies. You've never mentioned your favourite flowers to Ran before, so you assume these ones are his favourites (or perhaps ones that remind him of you) and it all makes your heart flutter.
You don’t have a vase to place them in, you settle on putting them into a glass pitcher.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t be able to make it…” you say to him, only to be met with a light chuckle. You fill the pitcher with water, placing it near the window for sunlight.
You know Ran is behind you, you can smell the floral scent mixed with bergamot and faint tobacco lingering in the air. Both of his arms wrap around your shoulders as he pulls you in, resting his head on top of your head. “I was only joking. I wanted to surprise you. Were you upset because of that?” he teasingly asks. “Don’t pout about it. You know I wanted to see you. Missed my pretty baby so badly.”
“Is that so? Is it not because your brother made plans without you?”
“Promise it’s true. Nothing is better than spending the new year with you… Did you not miss having me here?”
You place a hand over his as his hold on you doesn’t loosen. “Maybe I missed you a little bit,” you quietly admit.
“Maybe? That’s so harsh… There hasn’t been a moment that has passed by when I haven’t thought of you.”
You giggle at his lovely words, calling him a liar which he immediately denies. You know you and Ran are not actually together. He is not your boyfriend, he never asked you to be his girlfriend, and you think there may be other girls in Roppongi who want him – there definitely are – and maybe Ran is with them too. But whenever Ran sends you an email or leaves you a voicemail when you are busy, you feel special. He calls you a lot during late nights when he is free and you stay up together talking about sweet nothings. And when he is here with you, he kisses you every moment he possibly can, his soft lips never leave you and your body. And you let him touch you in ways nobody else has, letting him lay you down on the futon as he whispers gentle praises and sweet confessions into your ear. You feel loved by Ran Haitani, and it terrifies you knowing this feeling may never last.
—
This night is a cold and silent one; only the quiet music echoing in your room from an old stereo, the laughter and sweet words of you and Ran can be heard tonight.
“Drops of Jupiter,” Ran abruptly says.
You tilt your head in confusion, “hm?”
“I really like this song.”
“Oh, this is my first time listening to it…” You admit, you don’t know too much about foreign music, but you like the sound of this song, and you attempt to hum along despite not knowing the lyrics.
“Yeah? Well, come here,” he tells you, grabbing both your hands to pull you from the couch and you stumble straight into his arms. “Dance with me, my darling.”
Slow dancing in your room, the only light coming from the pale moon and a small lamp that flickers from time to time. Ran twirls you around and around until you begin to feel too sick, everything is dizzy, and the whole room is spinning. He pulls you close to his chest, securing you there, swaying side to side slowly, you can feel his beating heart and the quiet breathing of his breath. A sense of solace with Ran, your eyes slowly flutter shut.
“Should I just whisk you away from here and take you to Roppongi? I hate being apart from you, baby, it’s driving me insane.”
You pause at his confession. You look up at him, your heart races against the ticking of the old clock, your gaze drops from him to your feet, a single loose thread on your sock and you take in a short breath. You look back up at him, giving him a thin smile in which he returns.
“Once I come back, I will take you with me. We will go Romeo and Juliet style,” his voice is firm and soft. Ran is too perceptive, he notices your worries and doubts, he notices all of it, and he lowers his voice into a whisper: “Believe in me.”
You can’t make out his eyes, the moon barely providing enough light. The music echoing in your little room, a symphony of your aching hearts, you stop swaying as your hands lower to his forearms, and he asks you what’s wrong.
“You know, Romeo and Juliet didn’t get to…” your own words die on your tongue as you stare at Ran who is staring at you with such a serious expression. You’ve never seen him look like that before, and you freeze. You think it might be desperation (for you, you hope, you aren’t too sure) swirling in those soft lavender eyes of his. Believe in me. His words echo in your mind once. Twice. Three times.
Ran probably has never read or watched Romeo and Juliet, or Ran being Ran, sees them as the epitome of romance. Profound and intense passion and the tragic beauty of star-crossed lovers. In a way, you can understand Ran – understand them – who sees it as true romance, you partially see it that way too. (You think maybe Ran sees you and him the same way.)
“Take me far away from here, Ran.”
He leans down to peck your lips at those words, smiling into the kiss as he promises he will be back here soon. “I’ll come back for you,” he whispers as he places a much more tender kiss on your forehead.
It was inevitable: the way the beautiful flowers Ran had given you began to wilt despite your best efforts to care for them. You look for a way to preserve them.
—
And like always, you and Ran email and call each other a lot. He prefers to call, always saying he misses you and your pretty voice. How he wishes you were with him, and how badly he needs you. Every word he says leaves you feeling shy and giggly. Sometimes you fall asleep to the sound of his breathing on the other end, knowing all too well that the phone bill cost will be higher than usual. But during those little moments you find it hard to care.
Until one night, when the snow begins to slowly fall down in late February, it all stops. None of your messages are returned, and your calls remain unanswered. Ran doesn’t talk to you again, and you’re left without knowing why.
You pick up an old pack of cigarettes Ran had accidentally left at your place when he visited for the new year. You open the white box, take out the last remaining cigarette, placing it between your lips and light it. The moment you inhale, you immediately cough and choke on the bitter smoke, it tastes worse than you expected, however you bring the cigarette up to your lips again and after a few more tries, it becomes easier, you feel a light buzz and your heart aches so so badly. It tastes like Ran and you start to cry.
—
Once Ran is released from juvenile detention, when things begin to settle down in Kantō Manji Gang, and when things are relatively safer (—their crimes are piling up, their influence is growing, and now their stressful activities are beginning to slow), Ran attempts to call you. Again.
His calls still don’t go through. Again and again. He has sent you dozens of emails and a handwritten letter to no avail.
He boards the midnight train to Nikkō. He makes a beeline to your shabby, rundown apartment, it’s vacant, mail piled up and his handwritten letter that sits on top of the pile stares back at him. Mockingly. His heart beats erratically, he pulls in a deep breath to calm himself.
Ms. Sasaki finds him on her way to your apartment to collect your mail. Ran is frantic when asking about you; nothing resembles the pride of Roppongi in front of her, only the broken heart of a young and desperate man. She says he is too late, you got up and left two months ago, and she doesn’t know where you went.
You are no longer here.
—
This week has been slower than ever, Rindō’s been slumped over his desk all day, and he’s growing more irritated whenever he sees the stack of unread papers beside him. Rindō much prefers dangerous, adrenaline filled missions and pretentious parties over long boring meetings and paperwork, and all week has been these boring meetings and paperwork. What a shitty week.
The door to his office suddenly slams open, Rindō jolts in the leather seat, glaring at whoever it was that rudely barged in, but it’s just Ran, so he deeply sighs, not exploding on him. It's Ran so he internally groans because he knows something is up with his brother, he’s got an annoying look on his face today (much like he always does), mentally rubbing his temples.
“Rindō, we are going to go see a movie tonight.”
“I have paperwork to do.”
Ran tilts his head with visible confusion, “and? Do it later, leave it to your assistants. We have them for a reason, you know. C’mon, man.”
Rindō lets out an inaudible sigh. This is nothing new, Ran always does what he wants without asking. However, Rindō doesn’t have time to spare today. “Call up a woman and take her with you,” Rindō casually replies, dismissing him.
“Oh, so my dear baby brother doesn’t want to spend time with his eldest brother anymore? What happened to the Haitani brothers of Roppongi? Is it just Ran and—”
“God, please shut the fuck up, Ran.”
Ran immediately straightens up, asking if Rindō will join him. He asks like Rindō would say no to him. It’s not like he had much of a choice in the first place because Ran would keep annoying him into agreeing (an annoyingly cheap trick that works every single time).
Rindō nods, saying, “yeah, but Koko is pissed off ‘cause these papers haven’t been finished yet. It’s only been a couple of days, so I don’t get why he’s so mad.”
“Who cares about him? He is always annoyed these days because the last deal didn’t go so well,” Ran replies as he takes a seat on one of the spare chairs.
“That wasn’t our fault.”
“Exactly, it never is.”
A few hours later, they rent out the entire theatre, perhaps an overkill, but it’s safer for them (and everyone else) that way. The only people remaining in the building are the workers and the ones who recognise the tattoo on their necks are visibly shaken up by their sudden appearance, and a few of their men on standby — just in case.
“You added extra butter to this right?” Rindō asks the employee who nods her head frantically, visibly terrified as she had caught sight of the tattoo adorning his neck. Despite this being an expected reaction, it still annoys him, and he visibly rolls his eyes, his annoyance clear to everyone.
“Y-yes! To both of them…”
“Okay, thanks, I’m just making sure.”
The film is a romantic comedy – Ran’s favourite genre – he’s uncharacteristically silent the entire time. Ran loves nothing more than to talk about anything and everything, but he hasn’t said a word since the opening scene. Rindō stays silent too, eyes flickering from his brother back to the screen. He doesn’t enjoy romance as much as Ran does, nothing about the film is particularly entertaining, but some moments are stupidly funny. And he does find the female lead to be very pretty – the type of beauty his brother is more often than not attracted to – there is something so captivating about you and Rindō can’t take his eyes off of you. He assumes your beauty is the reason why Ran is so silent tonight.
By the end of the film, he glances over to Ran to find him watching the ending credits roll with glossy eyes, and Rindō doesn’t say anything, he turns his focus back onto the credit screen, the silent understanding of it all slowly hitting him.
(And even now, years down the road, Ran still finds himself enchanted by you and everything you are. He always knew you belonged on the big screen, shining brighter than every star in this vast universe.)
—
When you enter your dressing room, your manager tells you there is a present for you set on the table, and when you ask who it’s from, she only shakes her head saying she isn’t sure. The director of today’s shoot handed it to her without a word.
You never get sent mail here, especially fan mail – those get sent to your agency – you wonder if it’s secretly from your manager (she is too shy when it comes to giving compliments most of the time — you think she may be what people call a tsundere), or maybe a co-worker of yours, or that sleazy, old director.
A handwritten note on top of a box, simply reading, ‘Congratulations, I never once stopped believing in you.’ Your heart trembles, a feeling you’ve never once forgotten comes knocking, tumbling inside once again, making its way home. Your throat suddenly feels dry and your hands begin to shake a little as you pull on the silk ribbon, opening the box. A bouquet. Purple orchids and pure white lilies.
Tears immediately well up in your eyes as you hold the flowers close to your heart, careful not to crush the fragile petals.
#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers x reader#ran haitani x reader#ran haitani#haitani ran#rindou haitani#haitani brothers
128 notes
·
View notes
Note
Wine and feathers reverse AU. Y/N is an EXTREMELY rare Gold rose peafowl. They are the pride and joy of the Casino and are treated better than royalty. However, that means they're spoiled rotten and kick out any handler at the slightest displeasure. Sun, Moon and Eclipse were brothers who all applied for the position of Y/N's handler and passed with flying colours. When Y/N was asked to choose they said
"All three or no one ever again"
Thus proceeds shenanigans and Y/N trying to woo all three of them to be their mates.
(Note: this y/n is masculine and uses he/him pronouns)
You strutted into the bar, looking around. You smirked as everyone turned their heads to you. You couldn't blame them, though. How could anyone not want to see your beautiful rose gold feathers? Especially when they glistened oh so perfectly in the sunlight that beamed through the windows. You did love the attention, but you were aiming to trap the attention of someone else. Well, three people, actually.
You had just been given three new handlers, Sam, Maxwell, and Eric. You liked to just call them Sun, Moon, and Eclipse. Though the three were brothers, and all really muscular and hot, they all looked really different from each other. Sam had blue eyes and fluffy gold-blonde hair. Maxwell's eyes were a deep ember, almost red, and he sported long silver gray hair, normally tied back in a ponytail or braid. Eric had eyes so light brown they appeared yellow. His bronze brown hair wasn't as long as Maxwrll's. But it wasn't as short as Sam's either. Eric was also the tallest of the brothers.
You weren't sure about the three of them when they first came. Soon you were head over-heels. They were nice to you, sure, but more importantly, they were feisty. They flirted and teased you back. You loved the challenge of "out flirting" them. How you enjoyed to see them blush. It's the perfect reward.
Just as you were thinking of their rosy faces, you noticed Sam sitting alone at the bar ordering a drink. His back was facing you, so he hadn't noticed you. Perfect. You snuck up behind him like a shadow. Be it a super shiny rose shadow, but whatever. Sam had just received his drink. He said thanks to bartender. Before he could even take a sip you had gently cupped his face from behind. He was started at first, but then noticed your metallic purple gloves.
"Hello there, darling."
He put a hand on one of yours and glanced back at you. He had to look up to meet your eyes, given you were 8.7 feet tall. He was only 6.5. Such a short thing. Well, at least in your standards. You rested your head on his broad shoulder, whispering in his ear. "Hello, my sweet Sun."Sam raised a brow and giggled.
"Is that the name you've given me? First you name Eric Eclipse, and then Maxwell Moon. What is with this celestial theme, my love?"
"Because you guys aren't only the lights of my life, but the center of my world."
Bingo, you thought to yourself. Sam had started blushing a brilliant pink, like the setting sun. He needed to think of something, fast. Then he smiled. He regained his competence and caught your face in his hands. Without wasting any time, he brought you nose to nose with him. He whispered back.
"Come on, darling, you know we revolve around you."
He pushed his face closer, like he was gonna kiss you. At the last second he pulled back, grabbed his drink, and swerved past you.
"See ya, my love."
He calmly walked out of the bar, humming, leaving a very flustered peacock harpy shocked. Your cheek feathers were all bristled. He almost kissed you. He almost... You touched you lips quietly, wishing he had gone through with his silly little plan. You longed for his lips on yours. Sam was going to pay for teasing you like that. You are going to steal a kiss from him... eventually. He may have won the battle, but this was a war. And you intended to win.
Here's a picture of what I imagine peacock y/n to look like!
Tehe. 8.7 ft bastard y/n. As a baby you were called amethyst eyes. Your favorite color is purple.
(Also, Eric is 7.1 ft. Maxwell is 6.5 ft, just like Sam)
#dca au#wine and feathers au#answered#missterious drabble#handler sun#handler moon#handler eclipse#digital art#peacock y/n
79 notes
·
View notes
Text
♯ 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ◞ 𝑮𝑩³⁴
✰ pairing ⤫ fem!bsf!reader x gabe perreault
✰ synopsis ⤫ in which gabe and his best friend finally get together after pining for each other for a long time and now they have to make up for lost time
✰ content ⤫ just some sweet fluff. obliviousness. me writing friends to lovers AGAIN. abrupt ending? suggestiveness at the end maybe…
✰ 💭 ⤫ gabe and friends to lovers? I simply had to! as always I hope you enjoy and please do tell me what you think <3
You were sitting in the dining hall next to Gabe, pressed into his side, his hand on your thigh drawing patterns absentmindedly. The guys were bickering back and forth but he wasn’t really paying attention, he was too focused on you. He fights a smile when you steal another grape off his tray, trying to be sneaky.
"Oh before I have to leave…" you say turning your body even more in Gabe's direction and putting your hand on his thigh and scrolling through your phone.
He bites his lip and takes a deep breath, trying to stop the fluttering feeling in his stomach as you show him two pictures of different colours.
“Okay, this one or this one?” you ask, swapping between the two photos.
“I like that one more, it’s the school’s colours.” Gabe says referring to the picture of the maroon nail polish.
“I like that one too. I gotta go or I’m gonna be late, but I’ll see you tonight?” you ask, dropping a kiss to Gabe’s cheek as you leave, bidding goodbye to the rest of the guys at the table.
“Dude, when are you gonna ask her out?” Ryan asks
“Never, we’re not like that.” Gabe answers
“Really? Cause I’m pretty sure everyone thinks you guys are dating.” Will says and Gabe shoots him a look that says traitor.
“No they don’t” Gabe argues
“Uh yes they do. I thought you guys were a couple for the first few months after we met. And why do you think no one makes a move on her?…because they think she’s taken.” Cutter says
Gabe hadn’t really thought about the fact that guys hadn’t really approached you. He can’t deny that he felt a sense of satisfaction that people thought you were his. But there was also a sense of disappointment and longing, because it wasn’t true no matter what other people wanted to believe.
“I don’t care what other people think, we’re not together.” Gabe replies
“But you wanna be, right?” Ryan asks and Gabe sighs. He really didn’t want to talk about this.
“It doesn’t matter, she doesn’t feel the same way.” Gabe says, a tone of finality in his voice.
“You’re kidding right? When I assumed you guys were together, most of the time it was because of things that she did. I mean, just five minutes ago she was practically sitting in your lap, looking at you with heart eyes and kissing you goodbye…If those aren’t signs that she feels the same way, I don’t know what is.” Cutter says and when Gabe doesn’t respond the guys thankfully move on to another topic of conversation.
-
When Gabe goes over to your place that night, he’s still thinking about the conversation he had earlier that day. Were you giving him signals? Maybe he should just ask you? But what if you weren’t sending him signals and you didn’t feel the same. Gabe doesn’t want to risk losing you if you don’t.
When he enters your apartment, he’s immediately met with the smell of popcorn and the sight of you cuddled up on the couch, wearing his hoodie, popcorn sitting on the little table at your side. He chuckles a little at the sight. The popcorn bowl was bigger than your head. You always make too much, so Gabe had taken over popcorn duties for the last few movie nights but he was running a bit late tonight and you were impatient so you went ahead and did it.
When Gabe takes a seat next to you on the couch, you immediately cuddle into his side, where you stay for the rest of the movie. Gabe didn’t really pay attention to the movie at all, his mind still thinking about whether or not he should ask you how you felt. He was pulled out of his thoughts when you turned to him abruptly while the credits rolled on the screen.
“I forgot to show you my nails! Do you wanna see them?” you ask and Gabe smiles while nodding, finding your excitement adorable.
You hold out your hands and he takes them both, holding them gently and inspecting your nails. He was expecting the slightly longer than normal maroon covered nails, what he wasn’t expecting were the little golden 34’s on each ring finger.
“Do you like them?” you ask a little hesitant.
“I love them,” he says, kissing both hands and you smile.
Signals. Surely these were signs that you had feelings for him…right? Gabe couldn’t go on any longer not knowing. He was going to drive himself insane. He just needed to ask you and accept whatever the fallout was of doing so.
He takes a deep breath and holds on tighter to both your hands, for support. “I need to ask you something.”
“Anything,” you answer
“I like you, as more than a friend. And I’m sorry if this is gonna mess things up between us but I can’t go on any longer wondering if you feel the same. I just need to know so that I can either try to move on or…” Gabe says, unable to even speak the words into existence if there were no chance of them being true.
“Gabe of course I like you…I’ve been doing everything I possibly could to make it clear that I like you…short of kissing you or just telling you,” you say
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Gabe asks
“Because I was scared. Terrified really. That you wouldn’t reciprocate my feelings and our friendship wouldn’t be the same afterwards. I thought you knew. I was actually starting to think that maybe you just didn’t have feelings for me.” you say a little sadly.
“No, not at all! I do have feelings for you. A lot of feelings. I can’t believe we could’ve been together all this time…” Gabe says, a little frustrated with himself that if he had taken this risk sooner, you could’ve gotten together months ago.
“Don’t think like that. I love that we both cherish our relationship so much that we didn’t wanna do anything to risk it. We’re just gonna have to make up for lost time.” you say and Gabe smiles a little, loving that you always seem to see the good in every situation.
You shriek when he stands up and throws you over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” you ask laughter bubbling out of you.
“I’m making up for lost time,” Gabe says walking towards your bedroom.
If things were gonna go like he hopes, you’ll have the rest of your lives to make up for lost time.
#── ❛ 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐢’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 ✗ GP34#gabe perreault x reader#gabe perreault x yn#gabe perreault fic#gabe perreault fluff#gabe perreault blurb
60 notes
·
View notes
Text
i miss you. (LS2 x OP81)
logan reflects.
w/c: 622
day 42 of loscar posts until we get a loscar podium…! (series masterlist) masterlist
a/n: im sorry for lack of posts lol, im pretty unmotivated and tired. happy monaco gp!
Hey! It’s Oscar. I’m probably really busy or something, drop me a message, I’ll get back to you.
The monotonous voice of Oscar rings through the phone and into Logan’s ears.
Voicemail. Again.
Oscar hadn’t changed his voicemail in many years, the voice in the recording was him a few years back.
Back when Oscar was still like a child.
Back when things were easier, and definitely more fun.
Back when Oscar still bothered texting full sentences.
Back when Logan was actually praised.
Logan sighs, shuts off his phone and places the phone back into his pocket. He leans back on the bench, fiddling with the bottom of his shirt. The exact shirt Oscar had gotten Logan for his birthday, it was just a basic graphic tee of a koala but it was to never forget Oscar.
Especially in times like these.
But did Oscar remember Logan?
He should’ve gotten him a damn shirt, one with an eagle on it or something.
Logan keeps his head down, staring at the koala on his shirt.
Why did things have to change?
Why did everything have to get so complicated?
Logan stares out into the beach, the orange sunset paralleling the papaya colours of McLaren. It’s almost ironic, how Logan would wait until the sky turned dark for Oscar to show up.
—
“You are absolutely insufferable!” Oscar says, throwing a pillow into Logan’s chest.
“Hey! Rude.” Logan scoffs, catching the pillow.
Oscar lies down on the cushioned bench of the drivers’ room, “I hate you so much.”
“No you don’t!” Logan feigns offence.
“Asshole.”
Logan chuckles, sitting down on the floor.
“I hate it when you’re such a nice person.”
Oscar flashes that polite cat smile.
Logan hates it so much, he’s weak for it.
“That doesn’t make sense!” Logan chuckles.
“Because it makes me feel like I don’t deserve you.” Oscar explains.
“Right… but you do.” Logan affirms.
“Thanks.”
“Always.”
—
Logan kicks his feet onto the bench, just staring into the ocean as the tides ebb and flow.
Funny how things changed so much, Logan used to think him and Oscar were inseparable.
Guess some things have to move on, guess time took its toll on them.
Everything had changed.
But he’ll wait. Logan will wait for Oscar to show up.
Nothing hurts more than losing someone you thought would be forever. There isn’t despair without hope.
Logan hoped that Oscar would stay, keep his word.
Oscar didn’t.
Then came the despair.
But Logan will wait, as long as it takes.
Logan continues fiddling with the shirt and tracing over the outline of the koala, wiping away his tears.
It shouldn’t be this complicated.
It shouldn’t have to be this complicated.
Logan waits a few minutes before taking his phone out and opening Oscar’s chat.
What does he even text now?
His fingers hover over the message buttons, growing numb from just floating slightly above the keyboard.
It’s absolutely infuriating, Logan doesn’t even know what to say anymore.
They used to be able to share anything and everything, like their little safe bubble. Logan could drop his facade in front of Oscar, he could tell him anything.
Yet here he was, thinking too hard about what to say so Oscar would at least open the chats, putting up the happy facade he used to be able to drop in front of Oscar.
He lets his tears flow down his cheeks, blurring his vision.
Logan should’ve done better.
Logan should’ve been better.
Logan should’ve succeeded.
Maybe then Oscar would bother looking in his direction.
Logan swings his legs back onto the floor as he wipes his tears off with the sleeve of the shirt.
It all comes back to Oscar.
Logan: i miss you.
#f1#formula one#formula 1#f1 fandom#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#not beta read#loscar post#loscar#op81#ls2#williams racing#logan sargeant#oscar piastri#williams f1#loscar angst#angst#f1 angst#loscar fics#ls2 x op81#mclaren#mclaren f1#mclaren racing#op81 angst#ls2 angst#ls2 x op81 angst
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
I've been heavy into honkai star rail for a while now. There's really just something about handsome/pretty individuals with matching high intellect of their status. So you guys get a random Veritas Ratio drabble.
x gn! reader, fluff, slightly experimental, established relationship, ratio is referred to as veritas, and of course *english is not my first language
Is it an unpleasant fact to be aware of? No, not exactly, not when you're the recipient of affections that's undoubtedly foreign coming from Veritas, but it's the kind of affection that's also undeniably, him.
What changed in Veritas Ratio? None of his colleagues in the Intelligenstia Guild could tell if asked, but in your eyes, he changed.
For starters, his alabaster head. In the earlier parts of your relationship, he had already made it known to you that he greatly trusts you. Though not directly, the fact that he still made sure to remove his alabaster head whenever it's just the two of you, no matter the location, letting you witness the subtle shifts of his brows, the softness in his gaze, and the slight smile on his lips, stated enough of how his affections runs deep. Still, that doesn't really save you from the scalding hot commentaries he makes on your outputs.
Secondly, Veritas Ratio always made sure to always listen, only to you. No matter how mundane your stories are, no matter how busy he always is, he made sure to take note of every word you say. You and your stories aren't simply like the countless academic papers he read on a daily basis. He didn't need to study them and critically analyze each meaning, but he always made sure to know it. He'd have you sit next to him as he graded the mediocre outputs of his students, letting you spill the latest gossip you managed to gather after a long day at work.
"What happened to the sandwich stealer you speak of? Have they been caught?" Veritas suddenly asked, sunset gaze focused on the test papers in his hands, fingers precisely scoring the work a zero in wet green ink.
You look at him with a hand on your cheek, legs outstretched and on top of his thighs as your back rests on the pillows of the couch. "Turns out it was Ashford from the HR. He hated her guts. That's why he kept stealing her sandwiches for a week straight."
"How petty," He comments, which makes you smile. "I brought up the sandwich issue last last week in a passing, I didn't know you were listening."
"I always listen."
Lastly, Veritas Ratio, who changes the ink of his pens due to your suggestions. It was somewhere in the middle of finals season for students, papers in Veritas' office, and in your shared home reaching up to your elbows, a mess but one you both are all too familiar with.
Veritas had his alabaster head on seldomly when at home, but he needed to focus when grading outputs at such peak of academic stress. Far too deep into his thoughts to notice your presence, only when you knocked and reminded him of dinner was he finally out of his home office.
Dinner was short, with Veritas mumbling about needing to buy ink tomorrow morning to continue working. You mentioned that he should simply change ink colours when checking, opting for green rather than the imposing red, so that his students are more encouraged to improve. You weren't a dedicated researcher, but with experiences in dealing with people, you knew a few things that you'd share with him that reminded him of how well you truly complement one another.
That night, as you quietly read a book on his side, your gaze doesn’t miss the green pen held between his fingers, a small smile gracing on your lips at the sight.
He changed, but only for your eyes to witness.
#dr ratio#honkai star rail#hsr ratio#hsr veritas#veritas ratio#veritas ratio x reader#ratio x reader#ratio x you#drabble#chlowrites#hsr fanfic
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
Giorno Giovanna with Sibling!Reader hcs
Attention: you may see some spoilers to Golden Wind, so if you're still in process of watching anime/reading manga I advice you to return here after you're finished
A/N: starting to take requests again, so if you have any other ideas don't be shy and hit that ask button!
Let me say it, you and Giorno are inseparable since childhood
I mean, with how abusive your childhood was, you alway tried to look out for each other
At least you had each other in all this mess
But of course, everything changed after you've encountered that strange man
Giorno and you didn't even understand what happened before you were under protection of the mafia
The kids that were bullying you suddenly became nice
Your stepfather stopped hitting you
And life suddenly was.. not that bad
That's when you two realised who you helped that day
And since then Giorno knew who he wanted to be
And you happily followed him
But it more looked liked:
"let's join the mafia"
" ..yeah sure why not"
And then both of your hair colours suddenly changed
That was the moment when you discovered your abilities as a hairdresser
Because what can be better than sibling bonding through braiding your brother's hair?
You looked through a lot, and I mean A LOT tutorials to make Giorno's hair presentable
And he's really grateful for that
"Are you done?"
"Stop moving your head or I'll take those scissors and chop your hair off"
Then you started to scam tourists at the airport
It's such a funny concept actually, two 15 year olds scamming people as a taxi drivers
Well, Giorno is the one who drives
"Are you sure that's a good idea?"
*Giorno, having his Formula 1 moment* "Absolutely"
And well, you trust your brother with your life
But still, you hold onto that seatbelt for your dear life
"I lived a pretty good life"
"Shut it"
And then there was Bruno
Not gonna lie, this guy kind of scared you
But hey, after a fight and some torn off limbs, everything turned out just fine
And then Polpo..
Remember the lighter?
The fire in it died down.. like the first hour
And it was kind of your fault
"Hold the lighter for a bit, I.. WAIT DON'T SNEEZE"
And again, everything worked out in the end
(You still got scolded by Giorno)
(And he forgave you almost instantly)
So yeah, that's how you got in the mafia at the ripe age of 15😀👍
And it turns out, Leone treats you slightly better than Giorno
Overall, the whole gang treats you well
And you even became good friends with Narancia
But the most important thing is, you're just glad to be there for your brother
Hashtag supportive sibling
#jjba x reader#jojo no kimyou na bouken#jojo bizarre adventure#jjba 5#jjba platonic#jojos bizarre adventure#platonic#sibling reader#giorno x reader#gn reader#jjba x y/n#jjba x you#la squadra x reader#jojo#jjba golden wind#bucci gang#bucci gang x reader
27 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi, I know you’re a four focused blog but I was wondering if you have anything you’d be willing to share about your whump legend fic “if you don’t have anything nice to say” 👉👈 I love this kind of take on legend, it’s so good!!! Love your four and colours writing, too. The way you characterize everyone is really consistent I love it!!!!
Aww, that's so nice! Thank you, anon!
It might please you to know there's a second part of that coming out soon! I've got one fill left to finish that might hold things up, so just for you, here's some of the unspoken backstory of 'If You Can't Say Anything Nice':
Legend's always struggled with communication. People never seem to understand what he means, and it feels like they don't listen. He got in trouble a lot for yelling when he was little, or for being mean when he wasn't trying to be. And if he was gonna get yelled at for it anyway, he figured, he might as well deserve it. In his early teens he had a period where he was deliberately rude and mean to people - but he decided he didn't like how it made him feel, so he stopped. (This may or may not have happened around Koholint, when he realised he still wanted certain people to like him.)
People still never really got him, though, which was frustrating - so he stopped caring so much what other people thought. Stopped reaching out. He would always help, of course - but it was impersonal. 'Kill these monsters', 'find this stolen item', 'turn the princess back from being a painting', that kinda thing. Until he met the Chain, and they mostly got along, and they even seemed to halfway understand him -
Before he knows it his guard is down, and he loves them, and he wants to help, and he starts tentatively reaching out again.
#hi anon!!!#skies writes#theoretically#linked universe#lu legend#legend is indisputably autistic-coded in this fic#even if it's never mentioned by name#also i am DELIGHTED to know that my obsession with four comes across so clearly :D
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Daughter of Day (1)
My third and final active fanfiction is here! This is The Daughter of Day, a series exploring a new Court and a triad, because why not!
I hope you enjoy this introductory chapter - and keep your eyes peeled for the next instalment 🌟
This story is set after A Court of Silver Flames.
My inbox remains open for oneshot/imagine requests.
A Reader x Feysand Fanfiction
🎶 "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine - you make me happy, when skies are grey - you'll never know, dear, how much I love you - please don't take, my sunshine, away" 🎶
Helion held his newborn daughter, bundled in his arms in a yellow blanket, as he swayed gently around the nursery. He had had no intentions of becoming a father anytime soon, but when the baby's mother arrived at his doorsteps, he had fallen in love on the spot - those chubby cheeks and shining round eyes that peered out at him had captured his heart and soul.
Now, he couldn't imagine life without her.
Placing his daughter into her bassinet, watching her sweet eyes grow heavy and blinking, he set her floating celestial mobile to turn and tucked her in. Stroking her cheek as he watched her slowly fall asleep, he vowed to love and protect her for always. She would want for nothing in this life, he would make sure of that.
25 years later - Reader POV
"Y/n, are you ready?"
You can hear your father calling out to you, interrupting your reading. Grumbling, you grab your bookmark and note the page, before setting it down on the coffee table. The middle of a chapter. The worst place to stop reading.
"Yes, yes, I'm coming".
As you exit the sitting room and join your father's side, you see the look he gives you in response to your attitude. His eyebrow still raised, he stays silent as he opens the front door and gestures for you to leave the palace. You walk ahead of him and towards Xalan, your pegasus. Your father had gifted you Xalan on your 10th birthday and the pair of you were thick as thieves; much to his horror. You had Xalan wrapped around your little finger and often got yourselves into all sorts of trouble that Helion would have to rescue you both from. One time, you'd ended up in Thesan's bedroom in the middle of the night - and nearly gave the High Lord a heart attack before Helion was able to arrive and scoop you away, profusely apologising. He still apologises every time he sees Thesan for the embarrassment.
You mount Xalan and wait for your father to join with Meallan. Once you are both comfortable, he gestures for you both to take flight.
"This is a diplomatic meeting, y/n, so you have to be on your best behaviour. You are the heir to the Day Court, which means you represent the Court and me".
You don't reply. There's no need to, really. You will sit demurely and smile, speak when spoken to, and daydream otherwise of what life could offer you if you could just break free.
You had everything you could possibly want at the Day Court, your father made sure of that. But it didn't quench the desire in you to explore and see new horizons. 25 years in the confines of Day, only being able to satisfy your curiosity of Prythian by reading historical literature, was really taking its toll. You didn't mean to start acting out, but the boredom was driving you insane.
As you begin your descent into Velaris, the Night Court's City of Starlight, you can't help but notice the colours. The Sidra, the river running through the city, looked like it contained iridescent starlight. Flowers bloomed in deep blues and purples in people's front gardens. The mountain ranges in the distance seem to sparkle even in the daytime. You can hear people bustling about the streets, happy chatting and laughter fill the air.
Landing with a gentle thud before a riverfront house, you carefully guide Xalan to a stop and follow your father to a grassy sideline where the pair can graze happily. Once both pegasus' are settled, you watch your father round to the door and knock heavily.
"Helion, welcome!" comes a booming voice as the door swings wide open.
"A pleasure as always, Rhysand".
You see your father embrace the High Lord of Night as you stand behind, awkwardly. As Rhysand pulls away, he looks behind Helion to see you standing there. Helion notices Rhysand's wide eyes and turns to introduce you.
"Rhysand, this is my daughter, y/n. I thought it was time she learn the ways of the business, since she will one day take over from me after all", he laughs, guiding me to stand in front of him. Rhysand kindly takes my hand in his, shaking it gently.
"Welcome to Velaris, y/n". He smiles at you with kind eyes, which you return, before shyly pulling your hand away and tucking it behind your back.
"Helion, I had no idea you had a daughter?"
"Yes, well, I tried to keep her out of the spotlight to let her have a normal childhood; but she was getting restless in Day".
So he had noticed.
"Do come in, both of you".
Rhysand opened the door wider and moved, allowing you both passage into his home. You noticed the paintings that adorned the hallway, stopping at one in particular. It was one of your father, in the midst of the war 45 years ago, wielding his Spell-Cleaving powers with Hybern's army visibly falling in the distance. You had read about your father's role in the war, but only through reading the history books in his library. He never spoke of it, no matter how often you asked.
"Remarkable, isn't it? Feyre, my mate, painted this from a memory of your father during the war. He was a force to be reckoned with, took down nearly half the army on his own".
You turned to Rhysand with a gasp.
"Really?"
He looked at you, his face shrouded with confusion.
"He was formidable, y/n. Really, Prythian wouldn't be standing if it wasn't for him".
You turn back to gaze at the portrait, lost in thought. If your father had powers strong enough to single-handedly take down half an army, what could yours do with the right training? Helion was reluctant to let you do more than basic healing spells, worried that you would accidentally hurt yourself with your powers if left to your own devices. You could feel the power in you, strumming through your fingertips, begging to be wielded.
"Y/n?".
You turn and see your father standing in the doorway, silently beckoning for you to join him in the office. You sigh, thoughts of powers ebbing away, as you join him to discuss peace-making treaties with the mortal lands.
After you had been introduced to the rest of the Night Court, and they had gotten over the shock of Helion's 25-year-old daughter making a sudden appearance, the meeting carried on as normal. You mind wandered often, to the streets outside of the house, to the painting of your father and the power you could feel exuding from it, and you could feel yourself getting restless.
When the meeting was finally finished and you and your father had began the flight home, you couldn't help but wonder what your life would be like if you left the nest of the Day Court. And, as you watched Xalan in flight, his wings outspread through the sky - you realised it was time to spread your own.
"Father".
"Yes, sunshine?"
"I'd like to take a trip".
"Where would you like to go, my love? We could visit the continent, if you'd like?".
"A trip on my own, dad".
You can feel your father's gaze piercing you, but you refused to look up and meet his eyes.
"On your own?"
"I'm suffocating, dad. I need to live a little. Please. Just for a few weeks, just some distance from Day, so I can learn and explore and have fun like any other 25-year-old".
"But you're not any other 25-year-old, you're heir to the Day Court. You are a target".
"Then let me go somewhere where I'm not a target, where I can be protected. Please, dad".
You can feel your eyes pricking with tears, and not from the blowing wind. Your head is still bowed, but you know your father can sense them, can sense your heartache. He remains silent for a few minutes.
"I can, perhaps, ask Rhysand if he would grant you permission to stay in Velaris for a short while".
"Please, dad. Anything".
You meet his gaze and can see the pain in his face. His heart torn between keep you safe, but keeping his promise to you to want for nothing. And, it was becoming more obvious to him now, that what you wanted was to leave.
"Ok. I hear you. I will send a request to Rhysand when we are home".
#a court of silver flames#a court of wings and ruin#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#acotar x reader#acotar fanfiction#acotar x y/n#a court of mist and fury#a court of frost and starlight#feysand#feysand x reader#rhysand x reader#feyre x rhysand#feyre x reader#helion acotar#helion spell cleaver#high lord helion
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
Painting
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC!Theo
Summary: Bucky has to marry a woman who surprises him more and more as their story goes along.
Word count: 1,514
Warnings: buckys a dickhead in this. Wanda and Theo's friendship starts to blossom, swearing, mentions of being made to have sex with someone.
Translations: дорогой - sweetheart
Masterlist Series Masterlist
The next day Wanda strolls into the kitchen where Bucky was sitting at the kitchen counter, she smiles softy at him.
"Morning Buck"
"Morning. Hey how was yesterday with Theo?"
"Jumping straight into it?" She chuckles whilst shaking the strawberry milkshake "I'm going to go to the craft store today to get some paints and things so me and Theo can learn how to paint"
"Paint?"
"Yeah it's going to be fun! Also Buck, um I'm going to be teaching her how to read"
"She doesn't know how to?"
"No, but like I said I'm going to teach her" she smiles.
"Did you find anything else out?"
"She's really good with numbers, she likes the colour yellow, the only film she's ever seen was The Great Escape, nothing much else and oh her laugh is so cute".
Bucky's heart sank.
"Yo-she laughed?"
"Yeah, but she looked terrified after though"
"I-oh. I'm going to take the day off tomorrow to spend the day with her"
"That would be great Buck, hey listen just remember to go slow with her".
"I know, I know. Will you be taking Theo with you to the store?"
"I wasn't planning on doing that but if you want me too I can”
Bucky thought about it and decided that it might be good for Theo to get some fresh air "yeah take her with you but Wanda I want you to double up security alright"
"Yes boss"
Telling Theo that she was allowed to go to the store with Wanda made the redhead smile at how excited Theo's eyes were.
At the store Wanda let Theo push the cart, said cart was getting fuller and fuller as the pair made their way down the aisles; a rainbow of paints, brushes in all sizes, paper, canvases big and small, everything really that Wanda could get her hands on went inside the cart.
"I think that's everything don't you?" She says watching as Theo nods.
After paying they work as a team loading everything into the boot of the car and Wanda drove them back home.
Not even an hour later they were covered in paint.
Wanda loved the look of pure happiness on Theo's face, the look of freedom as she painted.
"I-I don't think I'm very good at it"
"Neither am I but it's okay we're just having fun it doesn't matter if it's good or not" Wanda smiles to her.
"I really like yours"
"I really like yours too, the colours-" Wanda's interrupted by a knock on the door. "Come in"
The door opens revealing Bucky, he smiles at both of the women. "Hey, you two look like you're having fun"
"We are look at all of our masterpieces we've done so far" Wanda beams up at him. He moves over to where they've placed their artwork "the ones on the left are Theo's and the ones on the right are mine" he hears from behind him, his eyes more focused on the left side now.
"These are wonderful"
"Why thank you"
Bucky turns to face them again catching a quick glimpse of Theo's smile before it faded but not before he noticed the dimple on her right cheek, he smiles softly at the sight.
"Um Theo did Wanda tell you that I'm taking the day off tomorrow so I can spent the day with you?"
Instantly regretting the words ever coming out of his mouth as he sees her shoulders tensing and how her head drops lower.
"No I didn't, I forgot all about it I was to focused on shopping you know me Buck my mind goes blank when I'm shopping" Wanda laughs as to ease the conversation.
"That's fine, is that okay with you Theo?" His heart sinking once again when he receives a short nod.
"Okay well I'll let you ladies carry on, I'll see you later for dinner". Leaving quickly as he could.
Wanda hated that Theo had gone rigid. "Theo? Are you okay?" Getting a nod from her, she shut her eyes and breathed deeply. "You can talk, you don't have to keep nodding or shaking your head Theo. You're free to talk whenever you want"
"I'm okay Wanda"
"Bucky's not that scary you know?"
"I-it's not that."
"What is it then?" Wanda leans over to take Theo's hands in hers, squeezing slightly.
"I have to perform my wifely duties tomorrow"
"What do you mean?"
"Have sex with him"
Taken back by this "you don't have to if you don't want to Theo"
"I have to it's my job as his wife"
"Who told you that?"
"My mother"
"What did she say to exactly? It's okay Theo you can tell me"
"That my job was to have sex with James and that it was one of my sisters that would birth him an heir"
“Listen to me, if you don't want to have sex with Bucky you don't have to. You say no. Bucky would never pressure you into doing anything you didn't want to do, I promise. Buck would never cheat on you I promise you that too"
"Bu-but I hav-"
"No. No Theo you don't." Wanda struggles to keep her anger at bay. Hating that the woman who she deems as her friend thinks that she has to do things that she clearly doesn't want to do in order to "perform her wifely duties". Hating Theo's mum for making her think that this is what a marriage should be like.
Unbeknownst to the pair, Bucky was standing outside of the doors both fists balled tightly, the anger coming off him in waves.
Later on in the day Sam knocks on the doors to tell them that dinner was ready as they made their way into the dining room everyone smiles at state they arrived in - paint covering most of their hands, paint on their eyebrows and cheeks.
"Did you two have fun?" Nat asks.
"Yeah, we kind of got carried away" Wanda laughs before sitting down next to the other redhead, conversation picking up between the pair.
Theo moves quickly and quietly to the corner of the room where she sits facing the wall.
As dinner is brought out Bucky walks in, and goes straight to his seat, digging in to his food as soon as it's placed in front of him. Stopping when he feels eyes on him.
"What?" He asks with annoyance lacing his words. Steve's eyes flick over to where Theo was sat before going back to Bucky. "Leave her and eat" receiving questionable looks, he sighs "or don't I don't care" then he carries on eating.
Ignoring the guilt burning their insides, they all follow suit.
After he was done Bucky stands, watching how Theo's body flinched from the loud scraping of his chair.
"Where you going Buck?" Steve asks.
"I'm going to Dots"
"Why?"
"To fuck her. Not like I'll be getting any sex in my marriage" Then he strolls out.
Wanda jumps up and storms out after him reaching just in time. "What the fuck was that all about?" She seethes.
"Which part?"
"The whole dinner James"
"Wanda I don't have ti-"
"What was that all about" she now demands.
"Fine. My so called wife doesn't even look at me, let alone fucking talk to me"
"Right so that makes you think it's acceptable to say that you're going to Dots for a fuck?"
"Yeah like I said I'm not going to be getting any from the frigid bitch-"
Wanda does the one thing that she has never done or thought about doing. She smacks him. "Don't you ever call her that! You want to go and fuck a whore instead of getting to know your wife then so be it. You James make me feel physically sick."
She turns on her heels stopping when she sees everyone standing there, barging past them she goes back into the dining room where Theo was still sat.
"Oh дорогой" She says at the sight of tears wetting her friends cheeks. "Come on, you can come and sleep in my bed with me tonight"
Hand in hand they both stand and head up the stairs, ignoring the words coming from the friend group standing there.
Neither of them realise that Bucky was no longer standing there.
Bucky stumbled back into the house in the early hours of the morning going straight into Wanda's library he walks over to Theo's paintings and picked the one that caught his eye from hours ago.
He takes it gently into his hands, leaving the room he climbs the stairs. Once he was in his bedroom he places the canvas on the bed before taking his shoes off and climbing on the bed, he removes the very expensive painting he had hung up on the wall. Slowly picking up Theo's he places it on the hook.
Jumping off the bed with a slight tumble due the alcohol swirling around in his veins, he moves to the bottom of his bed and smiles. Climbing back into bed he passes out.
<Previous Next>
Tags: @sapphirebarnes @bellabarnes1378 @unaxv @skulliecadaver-blog @mrsnikstan
#marvel#Bucky Barnes#Bucky x OC female#Bucky x oc#Bucky Barnes fluff#Bucky x ofc#Bucky Barnes angst#Bucky fluff#Till Death Do Us Part#Bucky ofc series#Bucky Barnes mafia au#Bucky series#Bucky Barnes x angst#Bucky angst#Bucky Barnes x fluff#Bucky Barnes ofc#Bucky Barnes series#tw rape#tw child abuse#Bucky female original character
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bonus 7: Time moves sideways
[First] Prev <–-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#better drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#Despite a whole ass inspiration board for reference - it turns out drawing and colouring half submerged people is a CHALLENGE.#I am channeling the zoobie bunny and internally screaming “WHY DID YOU THINK THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA”.#What I wanted was a cool transition between present and past! What I got was a very full mouth of my own foot!#That said: there are aspects I really like about this one and I feel like I got most of the way to where I wanted it to be.#Water is hard to draw and I am saying that even after dedicating a full 4 page comic with people in the water.#Forget hands. Water is my new nemesis.#I love how floaty this flashback transition was. The hazy mind wandering as LWJ carries him as a set up to recollection!#Aren't memories an incredible thing? To relive a moment in your mind? To have time repeat again and again?#And yet it is always a little different when we go to recall it once again. We are different people than the person we once were.
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
IN DEFENSE OF JOANNA LANNISTER
The Woman Dies, Aoko Matsuda, Translated by Polly Barton // Beatrix, Elizabeth Sonrel // A Storm of Swords, Chapter 38, Tyrion V
lyanna stark || elia martell || sansa stark || arya stark || alicent hightower || jaehaera targaryen || cersei lannister || myrcella baratheon || joanna lannister || aemma arryn || catelyn stark || sansa stark (2) || margaery tyrell || rhaena targaryen, daughter of aenys i || arianne martell || aerea targaryen || obara sand
for @joanna-lannister, on whose blog i've been a lurker for an embarrassing amount of time, sorry, ma'am.
#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#web weave#webweaving#webweave#game of thrones#webweaves: asoiaf#joanna lannister#she's fascinating#edit:#i tried to find one with lighter hair but nay nothing goes my way#there was this one with rapunzel that had the colours and all but the vibe really didnt fit#someone please also find me a painting for rhaenyra#like#c'mon i thought how hard it could be. turns out very hard. i found one for aemma before i found one for rhaenyra#i can do the young rhaeyrna realms delight on now tho#hahah this series is me taking myself too seriously
272 notes
·
View notes
Text
Happy two weeks and a day late Easter. Here have some cute bunny boys. :3c
#one piece#vinsmoke ichiji#vinsmoke niji#one piece sanji#vinsmoke yonji#my art#digtal art#vinsmoke brothers#vinsmoke family#black leg sanji#Gosh I spent way too much time on this piece but I really how it turned out so worth it#What’s funny is I started this piece on Easter Day and thought I would get it done in a like a few days but I thought wrong all well#Overall I’m happy with the results with Niji and Sanji being my favourite out of the four in terms of design and colour :3c#vinsmoke sanji#germa 66
69 notes
·
View notes
Text
guys i love them
@oobilygoobilyweezerbeezers tissues is in there
#my art#ms paint#inanimate insanity#ii trophy#ii cheesy#ii tissues#ii limegold jokes#i really like how the colours turned out on this one (doesn't see colours)
64 notes
·
View notes
Photo
HARRY STYLES
✮Grammys 2023 outfit appreciation✮
#harry styles#stylesedits#stylesnews#hlcreators#hljournal#hlupdate#hledit#trackinghome#1dsource#tracksintheam#stylesarchive#grammys23#the performance one is hell to colour#also it was really difficult to find shots without those who shall not be named#so this turned out not exactly how i expected#but i still like it#tho my eyes hurt :(#my stuff
328 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
eshipperuae
eshipperUAE
xxgoblinxxqueenxx
☾Winter✧Song☽
todoelmundolosabetodo
UNTITLED
aaronbyron
Aaron Byron
wisarud-blog
WISARUD TECHA