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thinemoonshine · 3 months ago

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⋆𐙚₊ 𝓪𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝓰𝐢𝐫𝐥 ˚⊹♡

bestfriend!jay x naive!female reader content(s): jay is horrendously down bad, reader is sheltered, childhood friends, major possessive and obsessive tendencies — he thinks you’re a being too pure for this world, so he’ll keep you safe in a little golden cage, handcrafted by yours truly

jay prides himself at knowing you best. you’ve known each other since you both were only in diapers. so jay knows all your likes and dislikes such as your favorite meal, colour and even sleeping position and he knows how much you hate it when people step on grass when it’s not meant to be stepped on.

he can almost hear your angry huff to “read the sign!” whenever he sees a ‘don’t step on the grass’ label.

jay thinks—no, he knows—he’s the one and only one that truly understands you inside and out. all he does is for you, what’s best for you. and you trust him with your life.

it’s no wonder you told him about your date, unaware of how destructive it is in his mind. his gears froze and thoughts quietened into an irritating, shrieking beeeeeeeep! before chaos ensued—loud, raucous noises near popping his head.

the way you gushed with warm cheeks and pretty, pursed lips as you tried to contain your excitement had jay feeling sick. not towards you, of course. never to you. but the fact that some random, useless waste of a guy was the receiver of your precious, pure sentiments had him absolutely disgusted. that jerk doesn’t deserve you.

if you were to feel just a scintilla of the hellish turmoil in him, you would have lost your mind. but he’s jay, your lovable, sweet and gentle bestfriend. you don’t need to see the horrors that plague his head, you’re much too soft for it.

so he just gritted his teeth and clenched his fists to the point of drawing blood just to muster a smile.

“that’s great,” he expressed.

no, it isn’t. it’s torment. a misfortune. a calamity in his dictionary.

and he’s going to fix it.

a week later, you’re crying in his arms about your date who ‘stood you up’ while he comforts you with sweet little nothings—completely unaware of the grin spread on his face as he rocks you gently in his hold.

“he isn’t worth your tears,” he says as his hands cup your face like you’re as fragile as a dandelion, and his thumbs stroke your wet cheeks. “he doesn’t deserve you. no one does.”

except me.

you melt into his touch as eyes well with tears thicker than before. you’re ever so grateful for jay. he’s always there for you.

you know you’d be lost. so utterly lost without him and you can’t help but feel pathetic at the thought. if only you knew it was mutual—though, his was exceptionally more dire.

he’d perish without you.

he brushes his knuckles against your now drying cheek when your sobs cease before pressing a warm kiss onto your forehead. when he pulls away, he has that same lovesick look on his face—an expression of love so clear to others yet, so desensitized to you from having seeing it since childhood. “you don’t need those other people, do you? not when you already have me.”

a pregnant pause follows before your lips pull to form the first smile of the hour, a silent agreement. his heart practically leaps as pupils dilate—near swallowing the brown of his eyes.

deep, low groans sound from the back of his throat as he resists the urge to just crush you within his embrace. his breaths are shaky as his hands around your face tremble with restraint.

gosh, you’re too…too sweet. intoxicatingly so that he finds himself adopting a sweet tooth just to calm his crave.

from then on, he doesn’t leave your side. he found that the more space he put, the more pests will come squeezing through to try and steal you away. he can’t have that. he’s sworn to keep you out of harm’s way and the world’s filled with the most vile things.

in your head, he’s a knight in shining armour, to others, he’s a doberman on a leash that you so unknowingly hold and to him, he’s making a clear statement. with his constant glares to others, arm around your shoulders and unnecessary touches here and there, everybody’s assumed he’s your boyfriend.

as they should, according to jay.

he grins to himself after hearing more and more hushed rumours about you and him being a campus couple and it only fuels his wheels to make it come true.

but him hearing about them only means you do too and it has you worried.

wouldn’t jay be bothered with the rumours? not at all.

what if this gets in the way of him finding someone for himself? like he even sees anyone else.

but you don’t know this. how can you? so when you brought them up, he has to shut you down—gently, of course.

“people don’t know us. they’re too quick to judge.”

“we’ve always been this way. nothing’s wrong, is there?”

“they don’t know you like i do, nor me like you do. they don’t understand us.”

jay cups your jaw with one hand, lifting your face slightly while the other draws shapes on your collarbone as it rests on your shoulder. he smiles warmly as his eyes flicker across your features, taking in every detail for the millionth time and wishing he can just burn your face into his corneas.

“unless…it bothers you. if it does then, i’ll do what you want. are you uncomfortable with it?”

you relax under his tender touch and you instinctually lean into his hold. despite his offer, you can’t ignore the way his brows point upwards or the way his hopeful gaze searches yours in a silent plea or how his small lips purse with breaths held in anxiousness.

he doesn’t want this. you can see it. and he’s done so much for you. how can you ever deny him?

that’s the thing, you can’t. and jay knows it.

so when you shake your head and say you’re fine with the rumours, he practically combusts with glee inside, overjoyed. you don’t care being called his girlfriend? you don’t mind spending everyday with him?

that practically means you like him too, right? maybe not in the way he likes you (yet), but it’s something.

“that’s settled, then,” he says—planting a lingering kiss at the corner of your mouth and inhaling sharply through his nose as he wills himself to pull away. gosh, he can never get enough of you.

and when he stands back up straight to see you smiling sweetly with eyes pouring with pure endearment and relief at his happiness, he has to bite his tongue from losing his mind right then and there.

the metallic taste of blood pulls him back to reality and his trembling fingers rake through your locks. if only you knew how feral he’d absolutely be if anyone else dared to touch a single strand of your hair.

if only you knew how much restraint he has to practice every single day just for you. if only you knew your very existence has him falling onto his knees with hands clasped together in reverence every single day—

…you’d still accept him with arms wide open and a genuine smile plastered on your pretty face. because that’s just how you are: an angel.

and no one is worthy enough to receive your grace so he has to be the one to protect you from this cruel world.

you yelp when he abruptly cages you in his arms, tight against his chest and he buries his face into your hair with a deep sigh.

“so good for me…” he mumbles as his coiling grip grows taut around you, biceps flexing and lifting you off your feet. you dangle with a giggle and his knees nearly buckle at the melody that rings in his ears like a siren’s song. a soft purr vibrates through his chest and up his throat as he revels in your warmth. “my angel.”

oh, what would he do without you?

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

#𖥔ཐི⋆𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝖘𝖎𝖈𝓴𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺#༘˚⋆☁️‘en’reverie｡⋆𖦹 #jay x reader #jay oneshot #jay imagines #possessive jay #enhypen x reader #enhypen fantiction #jay drabbles #park jongseong x reader #jay fanfiction #jongseong oneshot #enha x reader #jongseong x reader #jay enhypen x reader #jay enhypen fanfiction

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syllikins · 10 months ago

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"𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐑?"

❀ genre: fluff

❀ pairing: sylus x reader

❀ contains: mutual pining, sylus down bad, yucky vulnerable feelings (jk i love him so much for this reason), reader in denial (sorry guys), poorly proofread

❀ word count: 1.03k

❀ authors note: i'm taking a crack at this. but omg that scene where he tells mc there is no love purer than his after he asks if she finally realizes how he feels about her? COME ON. HOW CAN I NOT LOVE HIM?? had to write something inspired by that dialogue because it was so????? i'm definitely going to reference to some other stuff he has said in the game that made my heart flutter because?????

"there is no love purer than mine."

is a statement that has been replaying in your mind over and over again since that day.

you couldn't help but wonder if sylus lacks self awareness because how can you actually pinpoint his feelings when every conversation the two of you engage in seems like a ploy for his own entertainment.

every pointless banter. every teasing remark. every sickeningly corny nickname that unfortunately sounds like honey whenever it left his lips. maybe you ignored his childish attempts at flirting because you were too busy ignoring the ticklish feeling it gave you in your heart down to your toes.

sylus may make your eye twitch or send a small twinge in your brain with every smartass comment he feels he has to belch out: but maybe that's part of his charm. he mainly gets away with it with a face like that.

but your developing feelings for sylus was far more emotional than it was physical.

maybe it was the way he was always ready to lock in when it really came down to it.

the two of you being around each other always ended up with you or him being hurt. sometimes both. and if not either of you, chaos ensued. maybe a building was blown up instead. it was fun but it was times like those when you learned about sylus in a slightly more intimate way. it took a few deep gashes and heavy panting, near death experiences and stitches. but he needed your help. you liked that he could at least admit that. he saw you reliable enough to call on you when he was most vulnerable. and he helped you in the same way, despite protest.

he likes to hold hands. but it's not just his fingers intertwined but more like your hearts tangle more than your fingers. it was nice...he may mean it to be authoritative but there is always an underlying sense of comfort in his fingertips.

maybe he was a vampire. as you had previously joked. silver hair. red eyes. that inexplicably gorgeous face. pale skin that would automatically show any trace of lip gloss or lipstick that he would have obtained by getting a bit too close while attempting to tease you. that allure that often times makes your head go numb before you're brought back to reality by another witty comment.

you were more than enthralled by him; you realised as you laid in bed a few nights ago.

now he just makes you nervous. why would he say that?

there is no love purer than his?

and it's all for you?

it all feels like too much.

he calls and you stare at the caller ID before choosing to nervously accept the call. not before you start a petty argument.

but even among his arrogance, and the chirp in his voice when he engages with you, he's still sickening sweet. slipping in how strongly he feels about you in between every other colourful retort of yours or so. gosh. could he not?

after you pathetically stutter through a smartass comment of yours, his amused chuckle has you fighting the urge to chuck your phone. so you just hang up instead. maybe you just need to go outside. that should calm you down.

the warm yet slightly humid summer night air hugs itself against your slightly trembling form, a small fire lit in your heart as you walk down the empty sidewalk in pyjamas.

no one is around. all the stores are closed. it's just you and the street lights as you murmur about all the things you don't like about him in an attempt to kill the light in your heart, this light giving you an odd sense of pleasure. to no avail, your rambling on seems to make the light grow. and a small buzz on your leg.

in your pocket.

he's calling again.

you stare at it this time. its like you think the loving feelings pouring from your pores will tap the accept button for you. this doesn't last long before you shake your head and put the phone back in your pocket. you continue walking, eyes kept on the sidewalk as you weigh the pro's and con's of accepting such feelings.

*thud* you've hit your head on something.

the familiar scent in your nostril already tells you what- more like who it is.

it's obvious he used his evol to just appear in front of you. or else you would have seen his shadow underneath the streetlight you're under before your forehead met his chest.

the mere thought of it being him before even seeing his face is enough to get your stomach to flip, so you flip yourself in the other direction. then he wraps his hand around your wrist but he never seems to forget to add the electrifying part.

your free hand twitches as he intertwined his beautiful fingers with yours, the linking of both your pointer fingers keeping you together.

the silence among the song of cicadas makes you bite your tongue, anticipating a smart, playful retort. and yet amidst your baited breath nothing.

your heart beats in your ears as his warmth lingers on your fingertips. the two linked fingers generating the most heat.

"gosh, would you stop tormenting me already?" you whisper.

"is that what you think this is?" his voice echoing in the street.

you're both silent for a moment. yet neither of you make a motion to separate the linked fingers.

"your love...in it's purest form..."

another silence.

"it belongs to you." he finishes

you turn to him, still staring at the pavement.

"my love....." you began.

he seems to be holding his breath as you fidget in front of him. you attempt to make your slippers overlap or something to that effect as your palms get sweaty.

"is just as pure as yours." you breathe out in something like a scoff.

even now you're trying to challenge him

"and i want you to have it."

when you utter that last bit, you look him straight in the eyes.

he exhales and accepts it with no hesitation.

in his arms, where both your hearts tangle.

#love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #sylus #sylus x reader #fanfiction #syllikins #down bad

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tiredandsapphic · 2 months ago

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SOFT HANDS

pairing ꩜ adult!lottie matthews x fem!reader summary ꩜ carpenter lottie... builder lottie... handy lottie, yes please an ꩜ just a blurb cuz im facing the lethal writers block

thinking about lottie who builds things around the commune… some small jobs to keep her distracted, or big ones to keep her busy. honestly so talented too, she knows what she’s doing. yeah she's a cult leader, but she's also handy.

and for you? lottie will build anything your heart desires. you don’t even ask her directly, you’ll just utter the words “oh another garden would be nice…” or “a little path there will add to the place…”

"it would be like super romantic to have a little greenhouse by the lake." you mentioned once. "yeah?" "It's a dumb idea though, probably not enough room." and then you forgot about it after that.

two weeks later? its there. full of all your favourite plants, perfectly stained wood, and painted in an accent colour of your favourite, "because it reminded me of you," she'll say.

imagining lottie have notebooks full of ideas and plans. you find her half the time scribbling in them. she'll be writing in it with you nearby, probably while you're sleeping or reading. you peak inside them sometimes, a lot of sketches full of notes like,

'soft cushions for her knees while she gardens' 'sunrise hits at 6:17am—good spot for window for her favourite lighting' 'ask someone to teach me how to build a tub outside??' with frantic underlines.

when you ask her about it someone she gets all bashful and admits "I just... like to see you happy."

imagine just seeing her building something new for the commune, wearing her tank tops and linen loose pants. oh gosh, she's perfectly fit from all the work she does, absolutely obsessed. seeing the way her muscles work when she moves, and how she glistens in the sun, all you can do is stare. her hair all tied back, pencil behind her ear, still looking so ethereal.

being lottie's girlfriend whose kinda bad at all that stuff and still wanna help? yes. you help in your own way. bringing her snacks, drinks and of course kisses for motivation. those are her favourite. sometimes it escalates though...

"okay, so i just hold it here right?" you ask, hands attempting to grip a piece of lumber as she measures. "mmm, not quite baby, let me help," she's so patient, shifting behind you. she wraps her arms around your waist, murmuring how to steady the wood. guiding your hands with her larger ones, "good girl, just like that"

yeah... you're not much help after that, everything just got 10x more hot. you'll just stick to moral support.

she's only human and not totally healed, so she gets frustrated sometimes. the mix of the hot sun and a nail not laying correctly? yeah that ticks her off. imagining her breathing a little harder, jaw clenched, brow furrowed. the little murderous sighs she lets out, hehe. you always know how to calm her down though, soft praises and assurance. sometimes through more physical activities...

giving her massages too when she pulls something or is just so sore from all the hard work she does. you live of it, she loves it too much, its a win win. feeling her muscles under the pads of your fingers, working in her commune made remedies. ugh its so intimate. she makes a ritual out of it, having candles and soft scents some nights. your hands are so soft and work in all the right places. maybe getting injured is not as bad as it seems.

and the real reason she does all this? the praise. the recognition she receives, mostly from you. she lives for it, she needs it. when you tell her 'good job' or how much of a 'hard working girl' she is? she's gone. she'll do anything for you and wants you to feel that, because she loves her girl so so much.

#wlw #yellowjackets #lottie mathews x reader #lesbian #lottie yellowjackets #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews x you #lottie matthews #yellowjackets x female reader #yj #lottie matthews x fem!reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 days ago

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Down Home 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The world’s most famous heroes walk into a small town diner and change your life.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Because of this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all to Jupiter and back. Take care. 💖

Bucky yawns as you take his plate. He rubs his eyes as Steve blinks long and hard. You look out at the dusty old road. Tumble Down’s a long way out from anywhere.

“Y’all gonna drive all night?” You wonder aloud.

Steve sniffs and Bucky grumbles. “Gonna have to,” the latter says.

“There’s a motel ‘bout two hours down. Truckers stop that way to rest but the last one came through, he was scratching from the bed bugs.” You cluck. “Those men work hard, ya know, but they just don’t make nothing easy."

“Two hours?” Steve echoes with a nod. You put his plate on the other as you pull your focus back.

“Won’t be far,” Bucky sounds unconvinced. “I’ll just close my eyes a little. Tell me if I swerve--”

“Buck.”

The man chortles. “You know I’m kidding.”

You look at the plates and then them. You don’t know if your ma and pa will believe you when you tell them. Wouldn’t it be better to show them?

“Well, ya know, there’s spare rooms at my place. If it’s not forward of me,” you smile. “Oh, gosh, it must be, huh?” You cradle the plates against your stomach. “But it’s a lot closer. Twenty minutes or so.”

Steve scratches his jaw and Bucky combs his metal fingers through his hair. They share a look you can’t decipher. The Captain looks at you.

“That wouldn’t be too much?” He asks.

“I don’t think so. I can call ma and pa, let them know. They love company.”

“Hm,” Steve tilts his head. “Don’t feel like you have to be so nice.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Y’all are so nice and you’re heroes. Least I can do is put the bill on the house and get you a good night’s rest,” you beam.

“Now that you won’t do,” Bucky takes out his wallet. “Girl like you’s earned a big tip.” He slaps bills down on the table. “Buy yourself something pretty.”

“Maybe just a bag of feed for Cindy Lou,” you chuckle, “thank you, sir.”

“Bucky,” he looks at your full hands. He scoops up the bills and reaches to tuck them in your apron instead. “We’ll take the rooms. I need to lay down.” He leans back and rolls his shoulders. “Someone has to work on their aim.”

“Or you need to work on your reflexes,” Steve scoffs.

You chuckle and leave them to bicker. It’s cute. Like Mrs. and Mr. Owens. You swear they could argue about the colour of the sky.

You put the dishes in the window and stand on your toes to see Darnell. He’s got a paper back bent as he reads the curling pages. He glances over.

“I’ll get ‘em in a sec,” he assures. “Wanna finish this part.”

“Sure thing,” you chirp.

You turn and stop short. You spin again and head down to the tiered shelf. You slide the pie from the middle and put it to the side. You turn and take two of the scalloped plates from the stack. You cut two slices and carry them to the only occupied table.

“The apple pie’s going to go stale if it doesn’t get ate,” you put the plates down. “Can ya help me out?”

Steve’s check ticks as his lips curve. “Apple pie? Well, don’t get much more American than that.”

“But nothing’s cheesier than the Cap,” Bucky snorts. He gets a sharp look from his lifelong friend.

“Enjoy,” you chime and retreat.

You rock on your soles patiently. You don’t have much left on your shift. Amy will be here soon for the night shift; the truckers tend to come by after midnight.

“Mm, the cook make this?” Bucky asks.

You drag yourself from your thoughts and pop your head up. “Um, no. I did. I bake ‘em at home. Owner lets me sell them here.”

“As he should. It’s very good,” Steve praises.

“Gee, really? It’s my granny’s recipe.”

Steve hums in pleasure. “You know, think we’ll finish this and wait for you outside before anyone else shows up.”

“Good idea,” Bucky gulps. “I don’t got that energy right now.”

“Fair enough. I’ll let y’all be in peace,” you say.

You go into the kitchen and swipe up the plates. Darnell looks over as the door swings shut. “Said I’d get to ‘em.”

“It’s no worries. I don’t mind. Nothing else to do around here.” You bring them to the sink and place them inside. You crank on the faucet and scour the porcelain.

All in all, it’s not been a bad day. But now that you think about the night, you’re nervous. Ma and Pa sure will be surprised, but what about after? They might not be so impressed that you offered them to stay.

🥧

“Y’all just gotta follow me,” you stand by the open door of your pa’s truck. “I’ll drive slow.”

“Think we can keep up,” Bucky says.

You smile and turn back. You grab the door and the seat. “You need help?” Steve offers.

“Nuh uh,” you lift your foot onto the metal step, “got it.”

You haul yourself up and pull shut the door. You give a thumbs up through the window. The men watch you as the stand by their motorcycles. You must look a little silly to them. The few city folk you’ve met, seem to think the people around her are simple. Maybe you are.

You back out and spin the wheel. You head down the gravel road, two hands on the large ridged wheel as you steer into the rising night The closer you get to home, the more restless you are.

As you pull in, you see your pa on the front porch where he always in. In his rocking chair. You shift into park and kill the engine. You get out as the bikes rumble up behind you. You hope down, the keys jingle, purse bouncing on your hip.

“Hey, pa, is ma inside?”

“What’s that racket?” He growls, squinting past you as he leans to one side. A headlight gleams back at him.

“It’s uh... company?” You stop at the bottom of the steps, just within the yellow sheen of the porch light. The mosquitoes buzz past your ears and your swat them away. A moth’s shadow circles over you. “Some diners...”

“We ain’t running no hotel,” he harrumphs as the roar behind you quiets.

“I know, pa. It’ll be my responsibility. Just wanted to talk to ma--” Footsteps crunch closer behind you.

“Sir. I wanted to thank you myself for your hospitality. Your daughter’s been very kind to me and my friend.”

Steve steps up beside you. You glance over at him nervously then back to your father. He stops his chair from rocking and leans forward. He blinks.

“Heavens, your ma’s right about my glasses. Best start wearin’ them,” your pa shakes his head. “I can’t be seein’ straight.”

“Pa,” you breathe, “It’s him.”

“Steve Rogers, sir,” the blonde climbs the stairs and offers his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Captain,” your father stands and shakes his hand emphatically. “An honour, if I ever known one. My wife’s grandfather, he was a service man. My own granddaddy too. Over on the islands.”

“It was a big effort, for everyone,” Steve says.

“Sergeant,” your pa slips his hand free. Bucky steps up, much less bold than the other man.

“Sir,” Bucky responds quietly. “Hope it’s not too much. Just for the night.”

“Make yourselves at home,” your pa insists. “I’ll go get Yvette. She’ll be over the moon. She ain’t gonna believe me.”

“I’ll get her,” you offer.

“Okay, okay,” your pa stands marveling at the Cap. “That shield is shiny as it looks on the TV.”

Steve reaches back to unstrap the shield and presents it. You flit inside just as your eye meets Bucky’s. He nods before he turns to the other men.

The floorboards creak as you go inside. You put your purse on the narrow table against the wall. You can hear the TV in the kitchen scratching through the old speakers.

Your ma’s in there, at the table with the small box TV and it’s crooked antenna. You recognise the voices of the old soap characters she adores. She likes the ones from the nineties, only complains about the new ones.

“Hey, ma,” you greet her.

“Where’s your pa? Still outside?” She doesn’t look away from the small screen.

“Uh huh. He’s uh... chatting with our guests.”

“Guests?” She sits up tall and peels her eyes away from the TV. “Who’s that then?”

“Ah, er, it’s uh--”

“Yvette, you best not have nothing on your dress. We got some fine gentleman here,” your pa stomps down the hallway. “Some heroes.”

“Heroes?” Your ma stands and rubs her hips. “What’re you on about, Ger—Oh, my lord! Is it—It’s-- he’s so blond!”

She fans herself and bounds toward Steve as he stops behind your father. “And he brought that other one, didn’t he?” She peeks behind him. “And you look mighty beat. You need some food and some showerin’ and some beds.”

“Maybe the last two,” Steve says. “Your daughter fed us down at the diner.”

“Good girl,” your ma praises. “Well, then, we’ll go get them beds made up and Ger can show you where to wash up. Ah gee, henny,” she calls you by her little nickname. “You didn’t say, did ya?”

“I was trying,” you murmur.

“Come on, I gotta air out the rooms.” She grabs you and takes you past the super soldiers. They seem bigger as you pass.

Your ma drags you upstairs. She stops you at the linen closet and takes out a stack of bedding. She dumps it in your arms and snaps the door shut. You follow her to the guest room at the end of the hall.

She opens it up and flicks on the light. It’s been a while since you used the space. Not since Great Aunt Dorothea came and got in that spat with your ma.

“You’ll have to get the old ones of,” she dabs her forehead with the back of her hand. “I’ve been sweatin’ my wig off all day.”

You chuckle and go to work. You unhook the corners and gather the old bed in a ball. You pull on the fresh sheets and a quilt. You fluff the pillows too. You open the windows, shaking out the curtains.

“Have to do the other too,” she girds.

“Yes, ma.”

You go into the next room. She lingers at the doorway. You watch her trying to listen to what’s going on below.

“They came down to the diner?” She wonders as she leans on the frame.

“Yep. I was just as surprised. They just rode right up lookin’ for a side of bacon,” you cheep. “They’re very polite, ya know?”

“Well, they’re the old-fashioned type, ain’t they? Respectable too. Handsome,” she feels along the collar of her old farm dress.

“Ma,” you chide as you heave the old bedding toward her.

“You can’t deny it, can ya, sweet girl? Two of ‘em, too. What’re they doin’ in Tumble Down?”

“Doin’ what every else does. Pass through,” you shrug.

She nods and her face falls. “Yeah, it’s always the same old ‘around here, isn’t it?”

“Same old,” you agree as you gesture past her. She lets you into the hallway and you grab the other disposed bedding.

“Doesn’t have to be, ya know? Them boys are single.”

“Ma,” you guffaw. “Don’t be silly.”

“Well, I think I’m a bit past all that. But you--”

“Ma,” you repeat.

“Oh, you’re always so picky. First, you won’t go out to the fair with Jacob, then you won’t let Leslie take you on a picnic--”

“Jacob spat on me in grade school and Leslie only wanted to make Corrine jealous,” you huff as you carry the sheets down the hall. “I’m happy as I am, ma. It’s nice to get a bit of excitement, but I’m not dreamy-eyed. I know where I belong.”

She tuts. “You’re a good girl, henny. Too good for yourself.”

You go downstairs and turn down the hall. The pipes thrum as the shower runs. As you enter the kitchen, you see Bucky at the table by the small television. Your dad’s hovering by him, yapping about what he saw on the documentary channel.

“And they went to Belgium. You could see the broken trees, some of em...”

Bucky glances over as you near the laundry room door. He brightens up as he watches you. You dip your chin down. You want to apologise to him. Your dad’s not much of a talker most of the time but when he latches onto something, he sure can get carried away.

Oh well, it’s one night. One night and they can go back to being heroes. And you can gossip to Corrine about how you met most famous men in the world.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #dark steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #down home #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #marvel #mcu #captain america #avengers #winter soldier

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bad268 · 3 days ago

Note

Hiiiiii

Could you maybe do smth with kimi antonelli. I had this idea where reader and him are playing mario kart and maybe she finally beats him and teases him about it. And to shut her up he just starts kissing her (if you’re comfortable writing that)

Ps: i looooove your stuff

Shut Up & Drive (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 1

Requested: Clearly (You have reawoken my Mario Kart side-)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1171

Summary: The Reader challenges Kimi to Mario Kart and wont shut up.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

“I am aware that you race cars for a living, but I could totally kick your ass in Mario Kart.”

Those were fighting words you said while flying home one night after a long weekend, where Kimi actually scored well given the circumstances. Many of the drivers were affected by the heat, and there were a few bad accidents that took out a bunch of drivers.

In the end, only 12 drivers saw the checkered flag. Kimi still brought home points, but you could tell he was feeling the effects of driving in the hot, dirty air for so long.

That’s why, instead of letting him sleep on the long flight home, you forced him to play Mario Kart with you. You had chugged an energy drink too late in the day. You were wired and ready to make it everyone’s problem.

“Who are you picking?” You asked as you loaded up the screen, slightly bouncing in your seat. “It says a lot about who you are.”

“I don’t know. Is Mario good?” Kimi muttered sleepily as he gave you the side eye.

“Yeah,” You shrugged, “If you like being boring.”

“Well, who do you play then?” Kimi chuckled lightly before leaning his head back against the seat and dropping the controller in his lap.

“Shy guy, always have been, always will be,” You replied immediately as you selected your favorite colour Shy Guy, and watched him stay on the character screen without picking one. “Do you want opinions or are you just trying to waste time?”

“Sure, give me your analysis,” Kimi sighed as he rolled his head onto his shoulder to look at you.

“Well, I don’t really care about character specs, but my friends really like Link, Princess Peach and Dry Bones,” You answered, showing him the characters on the screen.

“What is this one?” Kimi questioned as he landed on your sworn enemy.

“Baby Bowser,” You replied with a grimace, “Well, technically it’s Bowser Jr., but still. Nothing against the character in this game, but I hate him in Super Smash.”

“Did he personally wrong you?” Kimi chuckled lightly at your reaction.

“Yes,” You replied seriously.

“I highly doubt that.”

“Just don’t question me,” You waved him off by bumping your shoulder against his. “Worst case, you can always choose your Mii character.”

“I’ll just go with…” He paused, using his controller to go around the characters before landing on one, “Luigi.”

“Hot, okay,” You joked as you confirmed your own character and moved to select your karts. “I like motorcycles, but that’s just me. Pick whatever you want.”

“Hey, this one looks like my car!” Kimi chuckled, selecting it immediately as you moved into the course selections. “What is the easiest one?”

“Baby Park,” You answered, going through the courses to find the specific one. You found it easily after playing it so many times and clicked to load it up.

“So, is there a reason you selected Big Blue?”

“Because I never lose Big Blue.”

“I see how it is,” Kimi said under his breath as your two characters lined up for the race. “Are you scared I’ll win?” “Nope,” You said, popping the ‘p’. “I’ve never lost Big Blue.”

“Well, get ready to.”

“Yeah, right,” You scoffed as you got a boost off the line. Before you even reached the first row of boxes, you went from 12th place to the top five while Kimi was still down in 9th. “Are you even trying? Oh my gosh, you suck.”

“It’s the first corner,” Kimi defended with a smile, “We have-how many laps is this? Three or five?”

“Why would it be five laps?” You scoffed as you threw a couple of red shells at the characters ahead of you and got up to second place. “It’s always three laps. And you better start getting better because there is not a lot of race left.”

“We’re not even done with the first lap,” Kimi said under his breath as he got into the top five.

“You’re not,” You cheered mockingly as you crossed the line for the first lap. “Y’know, this type of dominance could really bore fans.”

“We’re not even doing this with an audience,” Kimi muttered, stealing a glance at you as you focused on the game. “Should I be concerned?”

“You’re just jealous of my skills,” You teased, “You can admit it.”

“That’s not it,” Kimi trailed off as you moved into the third and final lap. Kimi had moved up to second at this point and was harbouring a red shell, but he didn’t have the heart to throw it at you when he saw that all you got were coins.

“What did I say?” You exclaimed accidentally, slapping a hand over your mouth when you remembered you were on a commercial flight. You cleared your throat before apologizing and dropping to a whisper as you shook Kimi’s shoulder, “What did I say? I told you! I don’t lose Big Blue! Never have, never will!”

“Yeah, I saw that,” Kimi chuckled as his character crossed the line in second.

“I don’t care if you are a professional driver or not! I am just too good on this track!” You continued boasting as the leaderboard appeared on the screen. “You should really take a few pointers from me. Like, don’t get rid of all of your items as soon as you get them, or maybe don’t fall off the side sometimes.”

“Okay, I get it,” Kimi sighed, but still looked at you with a soft smile on his face as he listened to you rant.

“Or maybe hit the gas and use the exit boosts! I can show you how to drive a manual!” You continued enthusiastically. “It’s crazy how you never used a speed boost once. I am like a master at it, so I can give you a few pointers.”

“Oh, can you?” Kimi teased lightly, but you missed it completely.

“Or maybe you just need more practice!” You gasped a little louder than you had previously. “We have a super long flight back home, I know you don’t have anything to look over or do work or school-wise, and we can just play the whole time! I can show you shortcuts and teach you the ins and outs of all of the circuits, and -”

The next thing you knew, you couldn’t talk. Your eyes widened as your breath had been taken away by Kimi’s lips on yours. It took you by surprise, but it was never an unwelcome surprise to be kissing your boyfriend. It only took you a second to react, closing your eyes and melting against him.

You dropped your controller on the tray table with your switch, opting to reach for Kimi’s hand instead when he pulled back with a cheeky smile.

“Are you going to shit up and drive now or do we need to do that again?” He asked lowly as he leaned to whisper in your ear.

“I wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

~~~~~

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delirious-donna · 1 year ago

Text

Bath Time Gone Wrong [Part One]

an: a huge thanks to @satorini for the prompt that produced this. Let's see if this goes anywhere... it sure has potential.

prompt: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: none, SFW

Series Masterlist | Part Two

You couldn’t believe your luck. Not only was your friend clearly loaded, they had immaculate taste as well. All of this you might never have discovered if it hadn’t been for a miscommunication that left you with no place to stay over spring break.

It would be wrong to blame your parents for forgetting that you would be coming home for the two week break, instead arranging for the family home to be renovated whilst they cruised to goodness knows where, but you still felt that stab of disappointment and hurt in your gut. One phone call to confirm dates would have fixed that, but no, what was done was done.

Instead, you found yourself in a penthouse apartment that your friend from college said you could use as it was currently sitting empty. Those were Karin’s exact words, “Don’t worry about it, the place is empty anyways. May as well make the most of it!”

Whistling through your teeth, you did a slow 360 spin of the entranceway.

The moment your Uber had pulled up outside the building you had an inkling that the inside was going to be luxurious, and you were dead right. The penthouse apartment on the very top floor needed a code and a swipe of a keycard to access by elevator. Your fingers fumbled on the keypad in your nervous excitement, only blowing out a breath of relief when you began to move smoothly upward.

As the doors opened, you found that the apartment was almost entirely open plan with panoramic windows of the cityscape lining the length of the wall in front of you. “Well, fuck…”

The decor wasn’t quite minimalist, there were too many home comforts to allow for that, but everything was clean lines and muted colour palettes. The sprawling couch scattered with one too many throw pillows, a basket of neatly folded blankets of every type of thickness tucked into the corner and a lush potted plant with long spiky green leaves all added that homely touch that true minimalist apartments lacked.

It was spacious but oddly welcoming with a rich scent that permeated the air, French coffee and freshly baked bread. You wondered if there was perhaps a housekeeper or someone that stopped by every few days to keep the place ticking over.

That thought was how you found yourself exploring deeper into the apartment, searching for an occupied room or some sign of life. There were no noises to be heard, no telltale signs that a terrified housekeeper might pop out any moment and scare the bejeezus out of you. What you did find was several seemingly unused bedrooms in different colour schemes and what you assumed was the master bedroom.

What a sight.

The bed dominated the majority of the room, a thick grey duvet adorned with pillows and a turned down fleece lined blanket on top. What kind of luxury lifestyle did Karin live that she had this kind of place stashed away, unused?

Perhaps you should have peeked inside the closets or the walk-in wardrobe at the very least, but you were drawn like the proverbial moth to a flame by the enticing peek of an en-suite bathroom.

Dumping your small wheelie suitcase and hold-all by the bed, you scurried towards the pristine black and white marble decorated room. It was safe to say you were giggling like an idiot, hands clapping together at the generously sized tub and did it have jets too? Oh my gosh, it did!

In your pure unfiltered joy, you found some jasmine scented bubble bath tucked away behind the bathroom mirror, completely overlooking the men’s razor and bottle of expensive cologne that sat beside it.

A bath would be exactly the thing to begin your new adventure. You could soak, shave your legs, listen to some music and contemplate what you could get up to with your two weeks here. Oh, takeout! You could order something super decadent and pretend that this was actually your place for a little while.

The possibilities were endless.

You set your phone up in the bathroom, finding a favourite playlist and blasting the music louder than you would have done back home. No one would mind, you were alone and the noise surely wouldn’t filter to any of the apartments below.

This was going to be an amazing spring break, you could feel it.

Kento was tired. What was new?

A weary hand passed over his face as he examined his reflection in the elevator mirror. Has he always looked this tired? Maybe.

He exhaled as the doors opened into his apartment, but only two steps forward told him that something was not right. Nothing had been touched or moved in the living area or kitchen, yet an unfamiliar scent mingled with the one he was used to.

Slowly, he deposited his briefcase and shrugged out of his jacket to hang it in the closet by the front door. He kicked out of his too-tight shoes and two fingers loosened the knot of his tie whilst his frown deepened.

His home office was exactly as it should be. The same with his little gym studio. None of the unoccupied guest bedrooms were disturbed, including the one that Karin had long claimed as her own for when she visited once in a blue moon.

Had Karin decided to visit thinking that he’d be away on the business trip that was cancelled last minute? It would be just like her to do something like that, but he was certain she would have stayed away from his room—the master suite.

Now certain to find his baby sister, who was as far from being a baby than ever, somewhere within the walls of his home, he felt his temper bubble. He didn’t need to be disturbed during what was pitched to him as mandated paid time off.

Kento was already annoyed by the idea that was forced upon him earlier this afternoon, and it wasn’t until he reached his building did he begin to think perhaps it was a blessing. Honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time he had taken any vacation time. A week or so to unwind, maybe read for the first time in months, sample a new whisky imported from Scotland…

The possibilities were endless.

He spied a small suitcase open on his bed, the contents a riotous jumble that made his head pound just to look at. A trail of clothing led from the bed to the bathroom door which stood slightly ajar. Perfumed steam escaped and his teeth grit together in irritation. Music played rather loudly in his opinion, a bright bubbly song with lyrics in a different language he couldn’t understand.

Did he dare to burst into the bathroom and scare the living daylights out of his darling little sister? The idea was tempting. The only downside being that he had no interest in mistakenly seeing her in some state of undress if she hadn’t yet made it into the bath. He would listen a little longer, wait until he was sure he wasn’t going to irreparably damage both his eyesight and his psyche before acting.

Kento padded around the bed, pulling his tie off and throwing it on the pillow to deal with later. The top three buttons on his shirt unbuttoned easily and breathing became a little easier again. Not for the first time, his mood shifted again. It would be nice to see Karin, catch up and find out how school was going. There was never enough time during the holidays to really enjoy her company so maybe this was all working out for the best.

He was still going to give her the fright of her life though.

The sound of splashing reached his ears and he smiled. Memories of tormenting his little sister rose to the surface whilst he tiptoed silently towards the bathroom door. He could hear the sound of humming along to the music and he had to stifle a snort of laughter, singing was not her forte.

A strong hand gripped the edge of the door. Kento held his breath, preparing to yell. Silently, he counted to three and leapt inside.

“Boooo!”

You had never screamed so loud in your entire life. A man was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, his features twisted in amusement but quickly shifting into sheer mortification.

Water sloshed over the side of the bath, bubbles going up your nose as you pushed your body low into the fragrant water. An intruder!

“Who the fuck are you?” You yelled indignantly, anger finally overcoming the terror ripping through your heart. Whoever he was, he was tall and incredibly pissed off.

His blond hair fell into his eyes, a hand the size of a dustbin lid swiping it back only to highlight the furious scrunch of his eyebrows. Sharp hazel eyes swung between you and the wall, clearly unsure where to look. In other circumstances, you would have called him good-looking, handsome even but not when you were so very vulnerable.

He spoke, almost to himself. “You’re not Karin…”

You knew that name, it was your friend’s name. This was her pl—Shit, this wasn’t her place. You could scream.

“I’m Nanami Kento, and you’re in my bath. Who are you?”

#delirious writes #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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wordsofelie · 16 days ago

Text

🍧just like that

bokuto koutarou x f!reader

words count: 1.2k

When you first met Bokuto, he was a teenager. Loud, awkward around girls, convinced he could win a fight against a bear if it came down to it. The kind that devoured bowls of rice bigger than his stomach and laughed like he was the only one in the room.

Still, you fell in love with him. It was in the way he was too honest with his emotions. In the way he treated strangers like friends and teammates like family. In the way he saw the world—great, kind, infinite.

You started dating in the final semester of your last year of high school. He asked you out on the festival day.

“I like your hair like that.” He declared out of the blue even though you were carrying heavy boxes. Your hair was up in a ponytail, and there was sweat dripping from your forehead. Your heart skipped a beat, and at this moment, you knew that if you turned him down, you would regret it for the rest of your life.

He left for Osaka a few months after, while you stayed in Tokyo. Long distance was never a problem, not when the person on the other end always made sure to finish his calls with sweet words and loud ‘I love yous’. Despite starting his professional career and becoming a promising player, Bokuto was the best boyfriend you could ask for.

Ten years have passed since then.

There have been highs and lows for sure, but nothing dramatic. You remember a few mismatched expectations, a handful of miscommunications, but that’s all. You moved in together two years ago and, for the most part, it had been easy. Soft. Full of delicious meals, long mornings in bed, shared clothes, and the certainty that this is what you want forever.

Simply perfect. Well—except for the past month.

You can’t say when or even how it started. Maybe it was your new job that drained you more than you expected. Or maybe it was Bokuto’s frustration after losing the world championship. Or maybe it was both.

Usually, you’d say you were each other’s anchors. Steady and always together. But lately, you’ve felt like you were tugging away, and at times you even wondered if you weren’t going in complete different directions.

You never imagined you'd really fight with Bokuto one day. Yes, he could be clumsy—mixing whites and colours in the laundry, deleting tax emails by mistake, showing up an hour late to medical appointments (even though you wrote it down on the fridge in bright letters!). But those things meant nothing compared to all the joy he gave you; those could even be endearing.

But what happened today wasn’t endearing.

You snapped for something you can’t even pinpoint now. He yelled back. You called him an asshole, and he slammed the front door on his way out.

You waited for him to come back only to find yourself alone for the last four or five hours. Tonight’s meal has turned cold, and you miss him now.

You’ve never gone this long without fixing things. The only times you didn’t hear from him for more than an hour were when he was having a game, or when he was on the plane. Never because you were mad at each other.

You don’t realise you’ve bitten your lips so much, your mouth tastes like metal. You’re slumped on the couch in his hoodie with a melting tub of ice cream on the coffee table. A thought goes through your mind, telling you how cliché and desperate you must look. It’s almost laughable. You’re even watching some k-drama about a girl chasing her childhood friend who doesn’t know she loves him.

“She should have told him,” you groan at the TV like an old lady getting angry at the news. “Before he left.”

You think you might cry at some point, for the fight or the silence or the fatigue that you have both been enduring. And you regret every word you said to him. Gosh, if only you could rewind the last hours. You never used to be so vulnerable, so raw with your feelings. You were the kind to keep everything locked tight, but Bokuto cracked you open over the years—gently, patiently. How are you supposed to feel better without him?

The door opens and it startles you.

You fumble for the remote to turn off the TV, but in the rush, you knock over your tub of ice cream. It drips down your jumper.

“Shit,” you whisper, pressing a hand to the stain.

“Oh—wait, I’ll…find something.” Bokuto’s voice sounds like he has been crying.

He kicks off his shoes and disappears into the kitchen. You hear the clatter of a drawer, the rush of the tap, then his hurried footsteps as he returns with a sponge.

He drops to his knees beside you. You catch a trail of waterdrops behind him, following the path he took. The sponge is the wrong one—this one is meant for scrubbing dishes, not cotton—but you don’t correct him. You just watch the way his hands tremble slightly, how his brows pull together in worry.

“It’s fine now Kou,” you tell him.

You pull the jumper over your head and toss it aside. He tries not to look at you, but fails. His cheeks turn red at your almost bare chest. You find it cute, the fact that, after nearly a decade, he still gets flustered like it’s your first summer together.

You’re not sure if you want to laugh or cry again.

So instead, you clear your throat, and he finally lifts his head to meet your eyes.

One of you has to talk first, yet you can’t seem to collect your thoughts to form a sentence, an apology. You feel stupid, so immature. How do people usually make up with each other? How do they regain one’s trust? And how are you supposed to show him how much he matters to you when you’ve let him down. All of a sudden, everything seems incredibly complex, too complicated—

“I like your hair like that,” he admits.

Your brain stops. The sentence is all it takes for your muscles to release. You move an inch towards him and fall into his arms; he steadies himself, and hugs you back—tight and warmly. His hand finds the back of your head, burying into your hair (messy, up in a quickly made ponytail).

“I’m sorry for calling you an asshole,” you whisper.

“And I’m sorry for leaving,” he says as he presses his lips to your temple. “I don’t ever want to leave like that again.”

“You better not,” you murmur with a pout.

Of course, making up with him is that simple. That evident. Like it’s always with him. How could you forget?

“What were you watching?” He asks after a few minutes.

You try to act as if you weren’t hooked on the series, as if you hadn’t been binge-watching the entire season. “Ahh… just some stupid k-drama.”

He reaches for the remote to turn it on again, “I’ll watch with you.”

“Wait, I’ll go warm up the food first.”

He smiles, and you kiss the corner of his lips. Just like that.

a/n: i went to ed sheeran concert and the song tenerife sea inspired me haha

#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #bokuto fanfic #bokuto kotaro #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto x you #bokuto x reader #bokuto x y/n #bokuto koutarou x you #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto kotaro x reader #bokuto koutarou x y/n #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu fluff #bokuto fluff

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always-just-red · 5 months ago

Note

Hello! Y'know that one line of Sylus talking about his muscles saying "They're not real. But they move." The way he casually admits to not being entirely human

Could I request something angsty where Sylus has an uncanny valley aura about him where you just FELL something's not right and Sylus is all :( cause he can't make the MC feel comfortable around him but it's not like he can fix it either

Just a quick little fic for this whilst I work on a longer fic! Realised like two paragraphs in that I had the opportunity to do the most evil thing ever, so I did!! 😇 I'm really proud of this one guys pls show it some love! And thanks for the prompt, anon! You are my co-conspirator in all this evilness, mwa ha ha DISCLAIMER: This work does not reflect the feelings of the author, who would die for Sylus! Wants to hold Sylus's face in her hands and tell him he is everything good and pure in this dark, cynical chess game we call life! 😎✨

Monster

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: A Deepspace Hunter's instincts never lie...

Genre: angst oh my GOSH so much angst

Warnings/Additional tags: f!reader, AU I guess as this is a different spin on an existing scene, *passes you some tissues* here you might need these! 🥰

| Word count: 800 | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

You know monsters.

Earth-shattering. Sky-shearing. Teeth, reckless: always striving for something soft to sink into. To make a home in and to eviscerate. You’ve been grazed by it— kissed by that violence more times than you can count— and you are not soft anymore; there isn’t space for it. There are scars and then there’s armour, the kind you carry with you, the kind you couldn’t shed if you tried, and you haven’t tried, because why would you?

Horror isn’t loud and cataclysmic, it’s quiet. It’s those few seconds before your Hunter’s watch signals a fluctuation of Metaflux. A premonition, trained, or maybe just human instinct, raw and vulnerable: something is wrong, here. That prickle on your skin— the tip of that claw, raked, snaked down your spine. You feel it whenever a Wanderer lurks in the shadows, or beneath a stretch of water that’s unfathomably deep and far, far too still.

Sometimes, you feel it when you look at Sylus.

I know monsters.

Before you, a fragment of a mural tells a very old story, and beside you, a red-eyed man is thinking of flowers. It’s late, and the museum is quiet. You look at the fragment’s centre, where a female warrior is plunging a blade through a dragon’s heart. “Look,” you say, nodding at the figure with a half-smile. “My predecessor.”

Sylus hums thoughtfully. “What makes you say that?”

“Because that looks like a standard Tuesday to me. Some things never change, huh?”

But other things do. With a chuckle, Sylus draws closer to you. The rumble of his laughter is warm and familiar, and his hand is near yours as he bends to examine the mural. He wants you to take it, to thread your fingers through his like you do when you resonate, when you need his power and he needs yours, except neither of you need it now. Why, then?

You know. Of course you know.

The man is all softness, voice and gaze like an afternoon sun in late summer that lulls you to sleep with thick, golden light. Always trying to evoke a dream. It’s weakness, it’s the dragon on the mural with a split heart, bleeding, and you’ll never understand why Sylus wears his on his sleeve.

It’ll be the death of him, one day. It’s set in stone. Right here.

When Sylus touches you— when the tip of his finger catches yours and makes an honest, desperate request— you don’t pull away. Something inside tugs at you, warns you, tells you a monster without a sword in its chest is one that can bite. What colour of blood would your hands prefer? His? Your own?

Your veins are cold and something is wrong, but no, you don’t pull away, because Sylus knows monsters too. Some declare themselves with twisted horns, razorlike wings and a long, barbed tail. Others declare themselves with something as subtle as a touch, withdrawn.

When Sylus steps away from you, that gash of dread closes up inside you. Heals like his wounds: no mess, no scar, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

He’s had a long time to look at the mural, and he smiles wistfully at the woman at its centre. “Some things never change,” he echoes, and it sounds as though there’s blood in his lungs, his throat, and that he has to swallow it down to say anything at all. It must sting.

“All in a day’s work for a Deepspace Hunter,” you joke flatly. You’re not even sure Sylus hears it.

Both of you stare at your fragment of history: an execution, a liberation. A matter of perspective. “Maybe…” Sylus begins, but then thinks better of it.

“Maybe what?”

He’s seeing something you don’t.

“Maybe what, Sylus?”

He spares you a glance. “The pose,” he says, indicating the warrior. “It’s ambiguous. Perhaps she isn’t slaying the beast, she could be—”

“Saving it?”

You’re considering a new perspective. Tapping a finger against your cheek as you lock eyes with your history— that elusive dream— ever oblivious to what’s behind you:

There’s a look of sheer, infinite longing— a gaze that’s been empty of you for too long, so sick of starvation, and determined to have its fill in the few, fleeting moments it can. It’s ravenous: dangerous, sharp, and irrevocably yours, if you would only turn around.

There are teeth and claws, but they’re all of them tame, and that makes them soft, doesn’t it? You could trust them on your skin. Turn around.

You do, and you are not the girl from the mural who tucked wildflowers into his hair and who sung him a song he still hears in his sleep. Sylus’s heart aches.

You are the girl from the mural who’s slaying a dragon, because it’s the oldest story, the only story.

Your eyes harden.

“Who would pull out a sword to save a monster?”

#🖋rach is actually writing #sylus x reader #sylus #love and deepspace #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #qin che #sylus x mc #sylus x you #lads x reader #lads #lnds #l&ds

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enwoso · 11 months ago

Text

changed | arsenal wfc x lionesses!reader

now i swear someone requested this but i literally can’t find the request in my inbox at all and i’m actually starting to think ive gone crazy and that i dreamt this request but anyways part two for hyper cause if i dreamt the request or not i loved it for what i can remember of it🙃

read hyper here

masterlist

it had been a few weeks since your chat with leah, and slowly your behaviour had started to change and not for the worse. but for the better!

it took a few more scoldings from leah and kim for doing silly things like, putting food colouring in pelovas shampoo or folding over all the pages in emily's book she was reading or when kept interrupting steph when she was filming a thirty second clip for the media team it ending up taking the australian thirty minutes to film the video instead of a minute.

but after one to many sit downs with leah and kim something clicked in your head and your mischievous acts slowly stopped.

so much so that in the first few days when you hadn't pulled a joke on anyone, the arsenal girls were wondering if you were sick or if something drastic had happened.

the girls feeling on edge about not having to check over their stuff or checking over door handles incase you had gotten to them before they had.

“y/n are you sure your not sick, there’s no way you’ve just turned down kyra’s attempt to cause havoc again!”

“i’m a changed women stephy! that’s the old me!”

and while you were technically a changed women it was all because of that big goal you had looming over your head. that you wanted to reach.

getting to the euro 2025.

yeah you still pulled a small harmless joke like scaring alessia whenever she came around a corner but that was just banter plus her face every time you did it was priceless.

plus leah said you were allowed to have some fun!

"you've had a good session today y/n" kim complimented you as she sat down next to you in the changing room you busy taking off your boots, kim felt a lot more relaxed the past few weeks not having to look over her shoulder every time she took a step in the training ground.

"thanks kim" you smiled at the captain, "let's hope you have another masterclass this weekend ey?" she nudged you as a small laugh came from you as kim was bringing up your two goals you got last weekend in the league.

"i hope so" you shrugged, your mind wasn't really on the weekend as much as it should you were more concerned about if you were going to get the phone call tomorrow or not, which would determine where your family were having their summer holiday.

"you thinking about the getting the call up?" kim asked quietly knowing your head was clearly somewhere else due to your lack of chattiness, normally your teammates would have a hard time getting you to stop talking.

you hummed as you nodded, kim bumping her shoulder into yours. "you'll get the call up, there's been a massive improvement in you over the last few weeks y/n"

you looked up to kim, seeing a genuine look on her face, "i mean it, and not only on the pitch but off the pitch too!"

"gosh your full of compliments today kimmy! did you finally wake up on the right side of the bed" you joked as you watched kim roll her eyes a small scoff coming from her.

"anddd she back! there's the y/n i know!"

it was the next day and it was safe to say you hardly slept spending too long up thinking about what you would do if you didn't get the call up, all those extra sessions, all those days spent trying to change your behaviour would have been for nothing.

but also thinking about what you would do if you did get the call up, how happy you would be and how proud your family would be of you.

walking into the colony you were tired, you were dragging your feet as your walked. your body feeling tired and you hadn't even done anything today yet.

grabbing your usual breakfast and slouching down on a chair on the closest table. "heard anything yet?" you looked up to see leah raising her eyebrows at you. shaking your head you began to eat praying it would wake you up a little.

"the list doesn't get posted until 12 so—" you hummed along with whatever leah was saying before you along with the other who were sat on your table fell into your usual small talk.

"y/n! your phones ringing!" alessia tapped you on the shoulder, your eyes snapping to the phone screen an unknown number on the screen.

"well answer it then!" leah said quickly as you scrambled to answer. standing up and walking over to the stand in the hallway where you'd be able to hear whoever was calling better.

leah, along with beth, kim, lia and alessia were all looking trying to decipher what you were saying and what the scenario was.

"do you think she's got the call up?" beth whispered as leah was trying so hard to lip read what you were saying but was really having no luck as she hadn't a clue what you were saying.

"surely, she'd be a great addition to the squad for the euros" alessia pointed out as beth hummed, along with lia and kim nodding along.

"oh she'll be gutted if she doesn't get it" lia sighed as kim give a knowing look. while she was silently praying for you hoping that you would as she dread to think about your reaction if you didn't get it.

"will you shut up i'm trying to listen!" leah huffed as she scowl at the group before going back to try her lip reading again it feeling as though you'd been standing in that hallway on the phone for the last hour when in reality it had been probably less than ten minutes.

"how is she able to hear when there's a wall there-" alessia whispered in beth's direction as beth shrugged waving off what leah had just said.

"right act normal she coming back-" leah spoke fast turning her body back around to the position she was sat in when you left trying to make out that she hadn't just been intensely staring at the conversation you were having on the phone.

"oh no she doesn't look very happy-" lia whispered, you walking in a small frown on your face. as your shoulders were hanging low as you sighed sitting down in your original seat.

"oh- y/n i'm so sor—"

"I'M GOING TO THE EUROS BABY!" you cheered, your face changing in a split second from a frown to a big cheesy grin as the canteen when quiet for a minute as they all processed what you'd said.

the girls all jumped up hugging you and congratulating you as they told you how proud they were of you.

“what did sarina say?” beth asked as the celebrations calmed down and everyone had sat back down.

“she just said she’d seen how well i’ve been playing and she thinks i could be good option for a game changer at the euros” you said with the same smile, it not leaving your face and probably wouldn’t be for a long time.

leah sat listening to you as you recalled the phone call over to them, as she sat like a proud mother. "yes kiddo! switzerland won't know what has hit them!"

#woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso blurbs #awfc #arsenal women #alessia russo #leah williamson #lia walti x reader #kim little #alessia russo x reader #leah williamson x reader #beth mead #steph catley #enwoso #england wnt #england women #england

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seneon · 5 months ago

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OF ART & SWORD ──── samurai¡ touya × geisha¡ reader.

about. oh but to love a woman who is already married to art. set in edo period, rural japan! au. romance. mentions of alcohol and suggestive content ( very short & uncompleted sex scene, it's intimately beautiful ) wc of 4300+

notes. the long awaited fic that's been sitting in here for months LOL. these rural jp themes & titles are based on research. anyways, no grunge dabi content this week.

SUNDAY NIGHTS were the only night that all the well respected samurai of the shogun had all for themselves. the gruesome days of protecting, engaging in battle, and training during the day were seemingly like a preview of what hell is like.

during this one night where they are granted freedom to sprawl all around the kingdom, many of the samurai's loyal warriors are seen in brothels. they engage in nothing but sugar-coated conversations with the women there and the next thing their bodies entwine.

tonight, the elite men all decided to spend their nights watching performances led by the women from the best okiya in the entire city. tonight is the night of artistry.

it is hard to tell if the samurai were here for art or not, since they all knew that a specific tayū of eternal beauty resides in this okiya. a woman who married the concept of art and ingrained it all throughout her soul.

the highest ranking of geisha which stands on par with those beautiful oiran of pleasure, you, a tayū. a woman of art and a woman who never fails to shine a sort of hopeful light around her customers.

the calmest of turquoise eyes watched as the said tayū danced above the little stage.

your arm ever so elegantly tracing the strings in the air as your fingers dipped in the invisible waters. occasionally, you would turn around, your feet carrying you so lightly it looked as if you were dancing in heaven's clouds.

it sucked the samurai’s soul in a captivating trance as you danced to the shamisen’s tunes that your maiko played. your movements were so fluid that it reminded the samurai with pure snowy hair of the calmest waters of a lake.

he couldn't take his eyes off you, even when the performances were finished and all the geisha in the okiya surrounded themselves among the samurai men, mingling around for a little fellowship.

he swore he was the chosen one the moment you choose to offer him your attention, sitting at the empty spot beside him.

“good evening, sir. is it alright if i serve you tea?”

hell. your voice sounded like those heavenly angels who sang melodic songs. your words so smooth it simply rolled off your tongue. it is enough to make the samurai's heart race with your voice.

and gosh. has he ever seen such beautiful eyes before? those eyes that draw him close so that he can drown in an unending pool of your gaze. they were so kind that it taints his heart with the purest of colours.

he simply nods, never a verbal man. either way, he couldn't force a single word out of his throat with the way that his insides are all over the place.

you simply smiled and poured him tea, as you said you would. you only poured tea for him, never one for yourself. that made him want to push a few words out, a little distracted from his feelings.

“pour for yourself,” the samurai murmured, avoiding your gaze as you said a simple all right before pouring an empty little cup of tea for yourself.

“i’ve never seen you here before.”

“that's because i never came here before,” he replied almost immediately to your words as he took a sip of his tea. “those men have been here several times though.”

you glanced over him before focusing your gaze back on him. “yes, i know them. but i don't know you. what is your name?”

his turquoise eyes flickered to your face as you asked him for his name. it seems like common courtesy for a pretty geisha to ask for her customer's name so that she will appreciate and remember the faces of those who pay attention to the artistry of the geisha.

“it's todoroki tōya.”

tōya's name rolls down your tongue like a prayer.

ONE MONTH of knowing you and that is all it took for the elite samurai todoroki tōya to start sponsoring you. he is the only man capable of such riches and wealth and the only one whose patronage was accepted by you.

tōya's comrades were surprised. they did not see it coming— how he is such an aloof soldier yet was noticed by the most beautiful woman of the geisha world.

now, the samurai with hair as white as the winter snow sat on the tatami mat, watching as you executed solo performances for him and him alone, a way to show gratitude to your danna.

he watched as the fan in your hand flew in the air, your fingers skillfully performing tricks with such a nimble little thing. even with a tool used in your dancing, he was impressed by your skills.

“how'd you do that? the fan thing,” tōya asks as you continue to swing your arm elegantly in the air, following the nonexistent music which only plays in your ear and yours alone.

“i simply throw it in the air and hope to catch it the right way,” you replied, giving him a slower demonstration of the skill as you saw tōya tilted his head in confusion. you chuckled before your movements came to halt.

“there is no way you just hope to catch it the right way. there has to be a skill. just like samurai with their blades and kenjutsu.”

you sauntered over to the man before setting your fan aside and taking a seat opposite of him.

“but there is. when you have a skill, you hope to make the best out of it. you believe in the skill which you've perfected. that is hope. when i perform, i hope for the best. when i hope and believe in that light, then i can perform perfectly while holding onto that simple little light that lives within me.”

gosh, even your words sound like sweet honey that drowns itself into the back of his mind. the way you perceive a word as simple as hope has him listening intently, even if he isn't really into that kind of overwhelming genre.

by now, you already know he isn't a man of many words but just a few. you do almost all the talking, filling the air with your heavenly voice that tōya loves to listen to every time he murders his free time basking in your calming presence.

being with you simply makes him forget about all the samurai work that he has. in your presence, he forgets how to wield a blade, how to lead an army, how to fight for this country because all he could think of was how to hold your hands, how to lead you into his embrace, and how to fight for you.

it's pathetic to him how he forgets that he is a samurai, yet an elite one, whenever he's with you. and sometimes, he forgets what he wants to say and ends up uttering the utmost outrageous thoughts of his.

“you are my hope, y/n.”

THE MOON GLEAMED, like a massive white bone china plate, hanging high up on night heavens. its silver glows illuminated on the skin of a figure slowly and elegantly moving her arms in the air, forming a magical aura all around her. your hair danced along the cold winds accompanied by the soft waves of the lake.

you slowly moved, following the tunes that the earthly nature offered up to you as a gift for entertaining them with your dancing. to dance freely and to have no other soul tear your confidence away is such longing peace that you have been looking for this whole time.

when have you ever danced like this all alone without having to worry about anything at all? without the eyes of men burning their gazes into your soul.

you felt so free, telling your okasan that you wanted to take a nightly walk through town but here you are, all alone by a lake where the moon favours your absolute beauty.

there were extremely faint sways of the roots that danced in joy at the performance you are giving them, serving mother nature with your grace.

now it is tōya's turn to lay his eyes on your dancing figure. you slowly spun around, arms moving in the most graceful and beautiful manner he has ever seen. he doesn't know what to think or feel at that moment where he hides behind a tree to watch you twirl like a soft and light leaf which is being carried by the wind.

the samurai watched in absolute awe, unknowingly admiring such beauty that unfolds right before him from a distance.

turquoise eyes usually resting and pupils never forming into a lovely circle of whatsoever, they widened just a little bit, giving the samurai some emotions that perfectly portrayed his features. his lips parted a little, letting the cold mountain air kiss his lips dry.

if there was a way to keep his lips moist, it would be to have his lips on yours.

wait—

what was the samurai's most elite samurai, todoroki tōya, thinking..? to have his lips on yours? to keep his lips moist? to kiss you...?

tōya blushed. his cheeks grew a field of red roses, freshly bloomed and ready to decorate the rest of his face deep red. he covered his cheeks so quickly that the sound of a slap echoed through the night.

shit.

the sound has caught your attention. you have ceased dancing, now looking at the direction the odd sound came from. tōya completely hid himself behind the tree, hands still covering his mouth. a smile crept up your cheeks when you saw the beautiful white hair that immediately strikes out from the greeneries.

there was an incredible silence for a long moment, before a shuffle was heard.

"let's dance," you whispered into his ears, fingers gently wrapping themselves onto the hands of the flustered samurai as you pulled him along with you to lead him around the lake where you danced for nature.

tōya simply let you do as you wished, not uttering a word of disagreement to your offer or even shaking his hands free from your grasp. you have him cornered and wrapped under your pretty fingers. you made todoroki tōya all flustered and shy.

what could be a greater achievement than that?

when you took tōya's calloused hands and went for a run under the moonlight, he couldn't help but feel secure with a strong sense of comfort. love and affection began to brew inside of him from the moment your smile influenced him to curve the corners of his lips upwards too.

EIGHT DAYS AND STILL COUNTING, yet you've never felt much more empty and lonely with the lack of tōya's presence.

he has gone away to fight with the rest of the king's army of samurai, soldiers, and warriors. all courageous men who have pledged their utmost loyalty to the king and the kingdom.

eight days is excruciating for you, even if you tell yourself otherwise. tōya has been visiting you a lot more often than ever, and suddenly he gets drafted to lead an army after his long hiatus.

and pray tell, there was never a night where you wouldn't gaze out at the moon from your room just to wonder if he's also gazing at the same moon you set your sights upon.

you wish that the moon would convey a message to him through your eyes and thoughts that the moon hears. anything would be fine. would be better if you received some sort of message through the stars about the young samurai.

another eight lonely days and nights of engaging and socialising with the townspeople passed in long dreadful hours. in total, it has been sixteen days. mere two weeks and two days where you last heard the voice of the well respected samurai and ever since you saw his ocean eyes.

and here you were, eyes slightly widened at the sight of the said samurai you missed so much. tōya's eyes gazed into yours as you felt your breath being brought to an end at that moment.

like a sculpture, a smile slowly carved upwards of his cheeks, your own heart fluttering at the sight of your beloved danna. your widened eyes melted like ice-cream, softening at his little smile before you walked to him at the entrance of your okiya.

“welcome back, tōya-san.”

“hello to my favourite lady, y/n-san,” tōya did a little bow before chuckling to himself. he then handed out a small bouquet of peonies that was hiding behind him, awaiting to be presented to a lady.

“i never forgot about you,” said the samurai as he looked at the pretty pink peonies that made him smile. “in fact, i’ve always been thinking about you. on the battlefield, when i rested, even the moments where i cleaned my blade free from the stains of the dead.”

tōya's description has your face twisting into an indescribable facial expression, the silence you emit so deafening it makes his lips pursed in awkwardness at your odd reaction.

“sorry, i didn't mean to uh, say the last part.”

“no no, it's fine. surely you don't think of me when you see blood, do you?” you raised a brow.

his fingers moved up to scratch his cheeks. “of course not. what i meant to say is, i can't keep you out of my mind.”

and it makes you chuckle before you take the bouquet into your hands to sniff the peonies because you couldn't get him out of your mind too.

“i’m glad you're safe and sound. unharmed and untouched, tōya-san.”

you really thought he wasn't coming back.

THE CONSUMPTION OF ALCOHOL makes every other night spent differently with tōya. the finest sake ran down your throat like how it was when tōya poured you a small cup. the flavour of alcohol is so fruity and floral it messes with your mind almost immediately after consuming a few cups.

as tayū, your alcohol tolerance is so high that you could drink as many jugs as you wish. it definitely surpasses the level that your patron has.

for some odd reason, tonight the universe declares your alcohol tolerance to sink into merely nothing more than a low, innocent, maiko who awaits her turn for alcohol consumption.

neither of you knew what time it is. it's somewhere around 21:38. you think. the candles looked way too funny to read. by the time the candle runs out, your time with your danna should be over. but it seems that your candle still has a long way to go.

your mind wandered off somewhere to the dreamland where only the best possible outcomes happen in there and never in reality. all while tōya takes unending sips of the liquid that has already drugged his mind with ecstasy.

he fixed his vision onto you where you sat so elegantly and so poised, the cup in your hand as your hands rested on your lap. your eyes are half-lidded and lazy.

noticing your flushed cheeks— your pretty lips that were covered in a light layer of squeezed rose petals from the west. the sake left a trail of dripped liquid at the corner of your mouth and he so itches to clean it up for you.

so when his proximity with yours closes and he nears you, his nose so close to your face when he exhales you could feel it fanning your cheeks.

you glanced at him just a little bit, eyes locking onto his own and seeking for anything in them just to be pulled into an ocean that you start to drown in.

the tension is thick— one could probably cut it with a katana and it will not break. perhaps a lance could pierce through the broadness of the air. either way, the tension between you and the samurai is so heavy that it makes you forget how to think for a moment when tōya's lips gently touch your own.

he does it so slowly and carefully, pulling away to look at your pretty features, as if he's drinking every one of them sip by sip. then his fingers moved to graze your cheeks. slowly and carefully, he holds your face and cups it, not wanting to break you as if you are just like a fragile porcelain doll.

“you're so beautiful...” tōya whispers and your heart flutters. each day you hear the same thing over and over again by every soul you set your sights on. but when tōya says it, it becomes new and unspoken words to you.

truly, it makes your stomach flutter with how many butterflies that trashed around at his praise.

“c-can i kiss you again..?” asked the samurai and you nodded like a fool, pressing your lips onto his before he could.

you shouldn't be kissing your patron, your danna. hell, you shouldn't be kissing any customers at all. but you're here, drowning in the ecstasy of his lips and the way his hands feel on you.

the taste of alcohol on tōya's lips is so divine that it heats you up along with the kiss that grew more intense as the candlelight softly burned in the far background.

committing a crime against the rules and laws of the artistic world, you paid no mind to it. no rules or regulations exist to you in this moment where you back softly hits the wooden ground and tōya crawls above you to trail his lips down down your jawline and to your neck.

alcohol is forgotten, rules ceased to exist, and kisses marked your neck where kimono collars could cover them the next day.

tōya pays his mind in remembrance that you are still a geisha, still the daughter of art and servant of beauty. that much he wants to keep, although he isn't sure how much longer he could keep himself off you.

while he kisses your neck and marks them with bites that reeks of pure love, his fingers move to loosen the obi that holds your kimono in place.

once they've come undone, you could feel his hands peeled your garment off your shoulders as his kisses on your neck came to a halt.

your breathing is all hitched and messed up, letting the samurai undress you bare underneath him while his drunken turquoise eyes gazed at your body.

no words were uttered, just his lips that tells you how much he appreciates you whole. they drive down to your neck and shoulder, before going lower to your chest, stomach, and he pulls up to look at you before it could go any lower.

“why'd you stop…?” you whispered, your eyes looked up at him and your lips slightly curled in a pout, never wanting his sweet kisses to stop any sooner.

“as much as i want to do this, you could lose your career,” he answers and rests his hands on your cheek. “i don't want that to happen.”

“but tōya-san, i want you. i don't care about being a geisha if it means i could be with you. besides, you could just buy me.”

his cheeks grew a field of roses at your words as he remained silent for a moment. “then i’ll proceed with the transaction later. you're all right with that?”

you nodded. “more than all right,” your affirmative whisper has tōya pressing his lips against the corner of your mouth, giving it a few chaste kisses while his fingers hooked at the band of your undergarment before slowly pulling it down, his own breath growing shaky.

just a few more moments later and his tongue is buried deep inside you after the work of his coated fingers of your slick. his hands kept your thighs opened while you gripped on his precious white hair as he pleasures you with his tongue.

the candle still looks like it has hours to go, which is perfect and foreseen of this moment where you revel in ecstasy.

and when he pushes in and out of you while letting out praises and affirmations through his lips, you feel nothing but the deepening love for elite samurai tōya todoroki.

you don't want to continue being a geisha tayū anymore.

OKASAN SITS YOU DOWN. she's brushing your hair like any mother would. so sweetly and filled with so much affection in the brushing, her hands felt like mother's love to you.

she starts off the conversation with a simple update on the okiya and how business is going. it's progressing well, she tells you, and thanks you because of the successful business. then she mentions about your maiko and her coming of age.

your precious maiko which you've seen grown up into a beautiful young woman. she's now read to take the next step from apprenticeship to the real thing, to be formed into a geisha. and if heaven allows, your maiko would take your place as tayū. hereditary, it seems.

“you’ve given your innocence to the samurai?” okasan asked softly as you visibly tensed, causing the older woman to rest her hand on your shoulder. “do not fear, i am not angry.”

you nodded in response as you could hear the woman practically smiling through her gentle voice, hands lifting your shoulders to resume the brushing of hair.

“was he any good? i don't want my girls to give their purity to men who isn't of art.”

a firm blush painted your cheeks a bloody hue before you fidgeted with the hem of your kimono sleeves.

“he's… tōya-san’s really gentle. considerate too. he kept asking permission and fearing my career more than i did.”

the woman hummed in response. “that's really great. and what do you feel about it?”

“what do i feel about it ..? like, him being gentle and considerate?”

“yes. had he made it an honourable and unforgettable experience for you? did his kindness touched your heart?”

you thought for a moment. “to answer all your questions at once, yes. to be honest… i don't want to entertain anyone else other than him.”

“negative, y/n, negative. you do not just entertain people, especially the samurai. you share and show people your art. and you are art.”

okasan takes a ribbon to tie a low ponytail to your hair after brushing. once she tightens the knot, she takes a seat opposite of you and looks into your eyes.

“you mean a lot to the samurai. there's a look of love in his eyes whenever you are around. the same goes the other way with you. but remember, y/n. you are a tayū, highest of the geishas. you are tied to art, not to a man. and to be tied to a man, you must cut ties with art.”

so the next time tōya came to visit the okiya, you have already cut the ribbon that ties you and art together. however, when the samurai came, he's brought many things to the okiya with him. all gifts, for the women of the okiya, your okasan, your maiko. and of course, to you, the woman he kneeled on one knee to propose to.

THREE YEARS LATER and the geishas of the okiya where you once worked at are all gathered in the living room of the todoroki mansion.

your maiko— now a beautiful young tayū, carried your two-year old child around, swaying back and forth while singing the tunes she'd used to play on her shamisen for your performances.

okasan and the other geisha speaks to rei and fuyumi, the mother and elder sister of your beloved samurai, as you're in the kitchen with tōya, preparing food for the big company.

“tōya, no, put the onions in! not shallots!” your mouth filled with the unagi you just made, tasting it before your exclaims reaches your husbands ears.

“sorry! i can't tell the difference,” your husband grumbled in annoyance and held up an onion and shallot for you. “which is which, love?”

“onion’s that, shallot’s the other one,” you pointed as you told him, swallowing the unagi before beaming in satisfaction. “perfection.”

the samurai lets out a little scoff at you before turning back to the cutting board and knife, beginning the slicing of onion. “how can you tell the difference anyways?”

“my dear, i've been cooking all my life. it's easy once you get used to it,” you went to him and peeked over his shoulders, smiling at how skillfully he cuts the onions.

“is this you when you went to war three years ago and thought about me in the middle of the battlefield?”

tōya flushes red at that memory and cut the onions even faster, earning a “ah— slow down!” from you, before a chuckle emitted.

“not like i didn't think of you all the time back then,” he murmurs and slides all the onions into a bowl, handing them to you once he's done. “y/n, you've always plagued my mind like an artwork i could never forget.”

“i’m just very artistic, aren't i?” you pressed a soft and chaste kiss on his cheeks, a few cuts visible from his recent mission with the shogun.

“yeah yeah, so very artistic until i fell in love with a merely unforgettable art,” he leans down to kiss your lips instead.

“eww! get a room, nee-san!” your apprentice calls out before your child attempts to follow her in her coos.

“just showing love to my favourite lady,” tōya pulls away and pecks a kiss onto your forehead. “let’s continue cooking, yeah? i love you, my favourite lady of art.”

TAGGING ★ @seumyo @solvisun @syverse @lezviie @sanariafr @bbluefllame @onlyyemanii

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