#blue skies : confession

[introjected-confession]

> look up source fanart

> “he would NOT wear that”

> closes tumblr

> rinse and repeat whenever I miss my family /lh

HONESTLY!! Real.

[effelier]

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. pretty brown eyes.

about. gojo might be the one with the six eyes, but there’s nothing special about those. your brown eyes are real weapon, here.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! sfw, fluff, hurt comfort. slight hints to insomnia, idk how infinity works sorry, reader has brown eyes, afab!reader.

“you could kill me if you wanted to.”

it’s the dead of night when he whispers your name. though low in volume, his tongue curls around each syllable loud enough for you to hear him. “

“‘toru, what are you on about—” digging the heal of your palm into your eyes, you dislodge the crust from your lash line and groan. the red lines on your digital clock read sometime between three and four am— but the digits blur as your mind swims with sleep.

“your eyes. they’re so perfect.” a loving grin etches itself onto his face when you crack one open to look at him, masking over the exhaustion seeping from his pores and the anxiety that spikes in the sapphire pools of his own eyes. “you should be able to get away with anything because of them.”

“baby,” you reiterate and roll over to face him fully. gojo gets like this when he’s overworked and worried, when there’s something big on his mind you’re not quite sure you’d understand. you move to jab a thumb into his forehead, right between his brows to alleviate the ache in his skull but you don’t let your disappointment show when rough skin meets the dull buzz of his infinity.

you forget that his six eyes flow in the dark — that his blue eyes are not as blue as they seem. “you’re talking nonsense, it’s late. get some sleep.”

“my eyes. they could kill me if i worked too hard.”

satoru’s eyes are a lot stormier than most would expect, they can be dark and cold. like an angry ocean tired of tournament. they can be bright, full of hope and loving — you notice that change whenever he’s with your students. they hide behind the frame of his ability, the one that hardly ever turns off despite how it really could kill him.

his mind is always running, his body almost always on empty.

in the moonlight, you see a faint sliver of silver between the flecks of diamond and stormy skies.

he swipes a gentle thumb just over cheek yours to catch a fallen lash. “but yours,” gojo continues, voice thoughtful and low. tired above all else. “those pretty brown eyes…baby, they’re dangerous in a different way. beautiful in another that makes me feel safe. puts my mind at ease or somethin’. one look ‘nd I’d be doing anything for you,”

there the two of you are, face to face in the dark — cheeks pressed to pillows and heads under the covers as if you’re children shielding yourself from the world. creating the safe space to let satoru confess.

“if those pretty brown eyes were the last thing i got to see before i died. then i think i’d be okay.”

“don’t say that.” your face crumples and his infinity falls away as if gojo had been anticipating your touch, the buzz just shocking through your skin as you wrap your arms around his larger frame, pull his head down to your heart beating in your chest. “you’re not allowed to die, satoru. not yet.”

“i know.” for once he’s grateful he can’t see your eyes — he hates the way they shine when you cry.

“i need you.”

“i know.” he’s quiet. “i need you too.”

“then rest, you don’t have to keep watch.” gojo feels the shake in your lungs as you speak. you worry too much about him. but with your hand cascading through his soft locks, and the other squeezing him close he’s finding it hard to resist.

usually when he lays next to you, he’s stiff as a board, always anticipating whatever danger might come next. but the biggest threat to him of all is you, and those big brown bambi eyes of yours — the way they’re wet with love, shiny with tears because you adore satoru gojo. you care about him way too much for your own good.

those eyes of yours are convincingly treacherous , he can’t help but let his body sag and let go of his cursed technique while you rub his back and soothe him.

“you’re dangerous, yanno,” satoru grunts, lips dragging along your skin with every word. “especially when you look at me like that, with those puppy dog eyes…can’t say no to you.”

but you smile as he drifts off, his tall frame heavy against you — your lashes blinking soft against his forehead as you curl around him protectively. “i’d rather use them to get you to rest, rather than kill you. ‘toru.”

your words are wasted on deaf ears — his deep snore indicating that gojo is finally asleep, doing himself a favour and locking his pretty blue eyes away.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[silverbladexyz]

*Part 2 is here. Third and final part is here*

Imagine unrequited love with Chuuya.

You didn't mean for it to happen, really. The feelings had just suddenly seized you one day, filling you with a rush of warmth so overpowering that it was certain you could never look at him in the same way again. Whenever he looked at you, with those blue eyes of his that reflected the beauty of the skies and the seas- or whenever he offered his hand to help you with whatever you were stuck on, the very same warmth would erupt in your chest, spreading all throughout your body and ensnaring you in such heat that you would certainly have been crowned the title of Cupid's most lovestruck victim.

And who wouldn't fall in love with Chuuya Nakahara? He was strong, handsome, and rich- three qualities that would've already caught the attention of many people the moment they laid their eyes on him. Despite being somewhat violent and brash towards enemies, he was normally calm and thoughtful, alongside being respectful to anyone he deemed as harmless. Nobody could resist his unspoken charm- with you being proof of that.

But beneath that tough guy mask he showed to everyone was a soul so kind and loyal that anyone would weep at his tragic predicament. A soul that clearly didn't deserve to be trapped in the hellish depths of the Port Mafia, where his hands were stained innumerable times with blood; blood that had no right to belong on the palms of an angel. The very same palms that had held yours as you grew up alongside him all throughout the years, offering a strong and stable sense of support in the abyssal underworld of Yokohama.

You were the only person whom he was softer to. He was still rougher around the edges in the friendship, but you didn't miss the way that he would step in front of you protectively when you met a formidable enemy. Or when he would buy you something you'd only eyed for a second longer, not taking no for an answer as he placed the gift in your hands without expecting anything in return.

Those were only the tip of the iceberg. Chuuya had risked his very own life for you multiple times, even if he had tried to deny it with the statement that he had it all under control. He would also bandage your wounds for you, while scolding you about being too reckless on the mission. You knew that he secretly didn't mind treating your injuries, though. It was what best friends were for, afterall.

It was obvious that you had a special place in his heart.

And he had stolen yours.

You would've confessed to him first, if only he hadn't confessed about something else that made the words die on your lips as soon as it left his.

"Hey, Y/N, can I tell you something? You must promise to keep it a secret though."

You looked up at Chuuya, who was standing with his hands in his pockets. The two of you were currently standing on the balcony of the apartment that the Port Mafia provided for it's subordinates, with the city of Yokohama serving as a witness to the moment between the two of you. A pair of best friends whom shared a bond so deep and precious that it couldn't have been replaced by anything else in the world.

"Of course. You can tell me anything, Chuuya. I promise that I'll take it to my grave." You straightened up from your slouched position on the railing, facing him. Underneath the moonlight, he looked as gorgeous as ever- the epitome of beauty for all mortals to admire. As if in response to the thought, your heart beat sped up, preparing you for the confession you'd tell him after he finished speaking.

Chuuya inhaled a short breath, before releasing it in a quick sigh. You tilted your head, staring at him with curious eyes, despite just wanting to grab him by the shoulders and profess how much you loved him. Surely he must have felt the same way you felt towards him, right? Even Mori had noticed how the executive acted different around you compared to everyone else.

Just say the three words already, you silently begged.

"I like Yasuko."

You blinked.

Time seemed to come to a stop as you wondered if you had heard him wrong. But you knew that you didn't.

"T-The civilian girl that you managed to save from an enemy organisation a few months ago?" You cursed at the stutter, but Chuuya didn't seem to notice. Instead, he seemed to be... shy, almost. The look in his eyes had noticeably softened at the mention of her name- a look that he never gave you in all the years of your friendship with him.

"Yes. She wanted to repay me for my help, and I somehow couldn't say no to her. Then after getting to know her for a few months... I realised that what I felt for her was stronger than what I felt for anyone else. She makes me feel... safe. Warm. Like she was a haven I could always return to." Each word felt like an iron-hot knife being stabbed into your heart, with the blade twisting deeper and deeper into your flesh as you slowly comprehended what Chuuya was telling you.

"... That's great," You forced yourself to say, smiling at him through your pain.

"She deserves someone as gentlemanly and loyal as you. Someone who would never hesitate to put her needs before his. Who would treat her right and make all the other ladies jealous of the pure love you have for her."

Your heart was shrieking at you, pleading for you to stop before all chances you had with him were gone. But you pushed your feelings behind the best-friend mask that you always wore around him. Chuuya's happiness was what mattered to you, even if it meant that you had to suffer for eternity to let that happen.

"You should tell her how you feel. Because I guarantee you that she definitely does reciprocate those feelings." You patted him on the shoulder, before heading back into the room so that he could make his decision.

He didn't know that you had collapsed onto the floor as soon as you shut the door behind him, clutching your chest as it threatened to tear you to pieces because of the pain. He didn't know that you had cried yourself to sleep that night, the hot tears staining your pillow that muffled the sounds of your heartbreak so that you wouldn't alert any of the other residents. And he didn't even need to know, because his eyes were focused only on Yasuko.

He took your advice, confessing to the girl a few weeks later with a bouquet of roses and the finest chocolate that you could find in Yokohama; and just as you predicted, she harboured the same feelings towards him. They were the sweetest couple ever, and your best friend genuinely appeared the happiest that you had seen him. His new girlfriend was nice, polite, and slightly shy- an angel truly fitting for the kind sinner that Chuuya Nakahara was. Hell, you even met her a few times, and any sort of dislike you harboured towards her seemed to disappear whenever she smiled that innocent smile at you. How could you hate her when she never did anything bad to you or your friend?

The butterflies in your stomach now turned to shards that pierced your chest whenever you saw him with Yasuko. Those loving eyes that you had stared at him with were now full of pain and longing, housing a heart of glass that already shattered long ago. Yet you covered it all up with a smile and your usual expression, even when it hurt so damn much.

It was you who stayed by his side when the Sheep betrayed him. It was you who comforted him and assured him that he was human even as he doubted it. It was you who held him close that night when he lost his friends after the Dragon's Head incident. And it was you who never left him ever since he joined the Port Mafia.

But why was it her that he fell for? Someone that he only knew for a couple of months, whilst you had known him for seven years. Seven long years of special camaraderie; of hurt, of loss, and of growth. Things that he could never hope to achieve again with Yasuko.

Was it because you were a killer? A monster that had taken away countless lives, and would continue to do so with no restraint for many years to come? Did Chuuya only decide to stay best friends with you because he pitied you? Or did he laugh about your foolish, helpless self with his girlfriend- his sweet sweet girlfriend that giggled and kissed him happily whenever he pulled her closer in private?

La Douleur Exquise, the French called it. The exquisite pain of pining after someone, knowing that it would never be returned even if you gave up your life for them. How fitting that the language of love would describe your situation perfectly.

Oh, how cruel it was, that fate decided to trap you in it's web of misfortune and laughed at your face as you tried so hard to move on from him.

You loved him dearly, but he would never come to reciprocate that love. How could he, when it was Yasuko that was the one he clearly needed and adored? Just like how a flower in the dark yearns for the light, you yearned for Chuuya to look at you like how he looked at her, even if it was for one second.

But you knew that it was impossible.

Because no matter how deeply you felt about him, his heart would forever belong to someone else.

Someone who wasn't you.

@circinuus @riiwrites @ruanais @sariel626 @chocsra @oldworldpoolhall @yuugen-benni @yasu-masashige @justcallmesakira @heartsfourdazai @i-just-like-goats

[08luvmailz]

𓇼 I'VE REMEMBERED . . ਏਓ !

𖥔 ݁ 𓈒 summary 𓍯 he remembered your favorite color — 🎙 contents : angst

The air bore the fragrance of scented candles, dry flowers and melancholy, a symphony of quiet sorrow woven into the tapestry of twilight, where memories slumbered beneath the dew-kissed grass of lost souls. The man's quiet footsteps, hesitant steps with the echoes of eternity echoing at the hushed place, reverberated through the sacred stillness of the sepulchered landscape. His eyes wandered across the cold tiles as his gaze, heavy with the weight of unspoken solace.

He is only here for one person, one destination. 

His youthful eyes clouded with grief and sadness but also a relief. Amidst the silence, a transient of his past, reading your name that fluttered between the dusty tombstone like delicate moths drawn to the flame of remembrance. He sat on the chilly grass as his eyes darkened while reading the transcript of the tombstone.

" It's been a while, my dear. " it burned, His throat tightened with hushed words or how the man's lungs crushed with every breath he'd taken. " I can feel you roll your eyes at me. It's been years since I've visited you. You must have been waiting for a long time. " He closed his eyes as he needed to capture the translucent tears threatening to fall from his eyes. 

" Do you perhaps hear me? " his words are as gentle as the breeze on a cold Saturday night. It was all too ironic, too painfully evident for his aching heart. " You may not forgive me as I never visited you since the day... you've left me, your family," he confessed to the quietness. Acceptance was never easy in his forte, the cruel duty of how much he cared and loved. It was never enough to let you stay or bask in your radiance that once and finally left. 

The wind carried his burden but never left his body like the air he needed constantly breathe to live as years later, he never changed in the slightest bit. " I wish I could know more about you, so I can show myself, can please you. " In the vulnerability of his words, he sighed. The man found solace in the communion of utterances spoken to the wind. " The regret in my stomach filled me like butterflies, as I only wished that I could touch your delicate face as I confess my undying feeling for you. " His fingers brushed gently and tentatively against the engraved letters that etched the name of his one and only.

His hands gripped tightly to the flowers he brought for you. The smell of it wafted in the air as it reminded him what you smell like. It was different you, had a husky-like smell than these floral flowers but it was only a replica of what you smelled like as it was a mere comfort for him. " I've brought you flowers, it may not be your favorite. But it is your favorite color," he confessed, his voice a soft echo in the stillness.

" You may not see the full-bloomed colors of these flowers nor the color itself, I will be your eyes and nose to tell you that they are beautiful and smelled like you, a bit. " He quietly chuckled as his delicate-ragged fingers plucked one petal. The man's touch became an ode as he caressed the plucked petal, A caress to remember that transcended the veil between them.

My memory with you has faded completely, but I will always remember how you, loved these colors.

The rays of sunlight painted the blue sky as the scent of flowers flowed through his brain, the shadow of a lone willow tree twisted and shaped themselves as his figure standing like a lone wolf. His eyes formed from darkness and a hollow void of coloration turned into light like a burning flame like one that flowed crimson red to the skies. " This would be the first and last time that I would visit you; I would continue living my life… without you. " His lips quirked upwards, a smile that could clash with the sunflowers bathing in sunlight.

He moved on, from you. He finally did the next step on his journey

" You showed me things that I wished to see and this time I'm the only one who will see those things. You have my gratitude and that will always be impeccable and irreplaceable. " He laughed as he spoke those words, words of joy tickled by the melody of his laughter, swayed with a rhythm known as his greatest love for you.

He did it, you must have been so proud.

" Goodbye… my dear, I'll see you soon enough. Wait for me a little longer. " As he walked into the embrace of the sunlight caressing his face, with each step, the memories of you two faded from his view, his eyes wandered one last time at your tombstone as the sunlight beamed on the pavement. It was like an unfinished painting awaiting the strokes of a new beginning.

A beginning without you.

— GOJO . GETO . shoto . obanai . TOJI . NANAMI . choso . LEVI . eren . BAKUGO . HAWKS . dabi . KURAPIKA . killua AGED UP! . CHROLLO . choso . zhongli . XIAO . DAINSLEIF . neuvillette . diluc . wriothesley . KAEYA . tartaglia . kaveh . alhaitham ... your faves

[buckysegan]

With all my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration - Part three.

Summary: The letters back and forth between our loves through the rest of the war. Word Count: 2.1K A/N: we are def rolling with some historical inaccuracies in regards to letters here but sue me, do i know how long the letters took? not a clue. but google gave us a good guess. john egan how i miss you, i need your love so here i give you mine. Part two link.

Dear Major Egan,

I'm delighted to hear I'm with you. I hope you know, that you've been with me too. It's rather insane to me if I think about it too much, just how much I've thought about you in the time that I've waited for your letters. Part of me was worried that you would think I was a little crazy righting to a man I didn't know and an even bigger part of me was worried my letters would reach you too late, but I'm glad you were happy to hear from me.

I don't mind that you're a simple guy, in fact I think I like that, then I won't have to worry about impressing you whilst we write back and forth I can just say what comes to mind. I like to think that I laugh quite easily myself, laughter is free right? And right now I think we could all use a little laughter in the world. I'll tell you my favorite song next and then you can tell me yours, I love you are my sunshine, it warms something in my chest whenever it comes on, I just can't help but smile you know? Your turn John!

I wish I could know exactly where you are, then I could know if you were some place safe but I'll settle for knowing you're still out there. As for me, I'm in Washington, Redmond to be more precise, is that anywhere near where you're from? I'd like to meet you very much Major.

With all my anticipation, excitement and continued adoration,

A friend from home x

Dear Darling,

That's what the boys have been calling you ever since your second letter arrived and given I don't know your name, that's what I decided to roll with. I hope that's alright.

I have no idea how your letters keep finding me at the exact right time, it's like fate keeps leaving it till it knows I need to hear from you. You should also know, it wouldn't matter to me if you were a little crazy, I know I'm crazy so you'd just fit right in. I don't think anyone that thinks laughter is free could be considered crazy though. You seem to good for such a thing.

I've had you are my sunshine stuck in my head for the past few days whilst I tried to find paper to write you. I think the boys were grateful at first because I wasn't sinking Blue Skies my old favorite, now I think they're ready to kill us both darling. Next question, do you like cats or dogs more? I'm not telling you my answer till I know you can be trusted.

I am with you. Know that much, and I guess Washington will be my first stop when I'm back home.

Please never stop writing.

With all my wondering, respect and ever growing adoration

John Egan

Dear John,

I could have given you my name. But I've decided that darling will do quite nicely for now. If you want to know my name you're going to have to make it home and come and get it yourself.

Is it sad of me to confess that every day I don't get your letter I get a little bit sadder until one comes through? I just hate the wait each time even though I know that these things take time. Writing you might just be the most stressful thing I decided to be. How does anyone's heart survive doing this?

You'll be pleased to know, I've been annoying the girls plenty in return with Blue Skies since learning that it's your favourite. I feel like it tells me a lot about you Major. Sing it for me sometime? I also feel like your question is a trick, a cat and a dog have very different purposes in life so I'll just chose both if that's ok?

I wanted to tell you I joined the war efforts myself since I last wrote. I'm in the factories now and I have to admit, I've never enjoyed having dirty hands so much. I'm helping to build the planes. The wings specifically, I think they put me here because I wouldn't stop talking about my pilot John.

I wonder if anything I ever build will make it across to you? My letters won't stop as long as yours don't John.

With all my curiosity, joy and bursting adoration.

Your darling from home x

Dear Darling,

I'm in a terrible mood. Buck said I can't start my letter like that but I told him you'd be alright. You don't mind do you? I have to tell someone or I think I might actually start going a little crazy. I might already be crazy if I didn't get just as excited as you do when the mail call comes through.

I wish I knew you before the war. I wish you knew me before the war, I fear I might not be the John that came to England. I don't even know if I'm the John that start writing you all those months ago. I'm just sort of hoping you won't give up on me anyway even if my letters ain't always sunshine.

And I'm glad darling, I'm so god damn glad that waiting on my letters is the most stressful part of your day. Reminds me why we're doing this, what we're over here for. To keep you all safe at that side.

I suppose I can give you cats and dogs though. I wouldn't want to pick either if we really had to come down to it. My girls smart though huh? Making those planes for us to fly? I gotta say the idea of that does something to me and my bad mood in a good way.

What I wouldn't give to be home with you right now and I never even met you.

My longing, wishing and steady adoration

John Egan

Dear John

You can write to me, come rain or shine, bad moods or good. I don't want to just be here for the fun parts Major. I may not have known you before the war, and I may only just be learning who you are now but I don't doubt for a second, every part of you is worth knowing so tell Buck that I'll take it all and he can keep his opinions to himself.

I'm sorry, it was thoughtless of me to say writing letters were stressful when you're over there doing what needs to be done. More news keeps reaching us and each day I am terrified that your name is going to appear on a list somewhere.

I know that you can't be here, and I can't be there, but I wanted you to have some small piece of me with you so I sent you something with this letter. Keep smiling with me John, through the good and the bad, just keep smiling if you can.

I hope to see you so soon.

All my determination, strength and adoration

Darling x

Dear Darling,

Buck said he's sorry. He won't ever doubt you again. I think you two would really like each other you know.

He's my voice of reason these days, or rather he always has been. One of my two favorite people, him here, and you all the way over there. How is home? Does it still smell as sweet as I remember it?

I'm a little convinced that you're too good to be true darling. Your picture caused more whistles and taunts that I've seen from the boys in forever and I would have knocked them all on their ass if Buck didn't strike and tell me to sit down again. How do you not have a solider of your own to be writing too?

Sometimes when I get down time. I like to day dream about what you're up to over there. How many planes you fixed up for us, imagine taking you dancing on a Friday night, do you have siblings? Your folks still around? I've been trying to picture it all.

I dream of that soon more than I care to admit.

With all my promises, thoughts and adoration

John Egan

Dear John,

I'm glad you have a voice of reason. We wouldn't want you getting up to any trouble now would we? Are you the sort to be in trouble a lot? I get the impression you could be Major Egan.

How are your moods holding up these days? I can't help but worry about you over here even when I'm meant to be busy.

If you could see the blush that you have all caused you would all be ashamed of yourself. I promise I'm real. I tried to get my friend Meg to let me send a picture of her but she claimed you were really going to show up here one day and then you'd be looking for the wrong girl.

I like the idea of you imagining things. It means I'm not the only one. I do have siblings, an older sister who works in the factories with me, and a little brother who is out fighting with you somewhere but his own girl writes him. My folks are both still here with me too. What's your family like?

I do have a solider of my own to be writing John, I have you.

Tell me a secret if you can?

Your darling x

Dear Darling,

Forgive me because this letter will be short, but I needed to send it out before we move. If you don't hear from me in a while, don't worry, I'll write back as soon as I'm able. I want that name, I want the dancing, I want you to meet my mom when I'm back.

You want to know a secret darling? I think it's taken me ten letters to fall in love with you after all you've given me.

With my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration

John Egan

Dear John,

I'm writing even if you might not get this because I refuse to believe anything else other than you're busy for a while. I'll be over here waiting for you remember. I'm with you even when I'm not.

I have so much more to tell you and things I want to learn before I am satisfied.

In fact, no I may never be satisfied and then I never have to let you go.

You'll be in each of my thoughts till I hear from you again John, I think loving you took me one letter.

With all my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration

Your darling x

Dear John

I don't think I've taken a real breath in weeks. I figured I would write you again, just in case the first one didn't reach you and you thought I hadn't wrote back.

Your name hasn't appeared on any lists so I refuse to believe that you're not still out there waiting to come home to me.

In case you missed it in the first letter, I love you too.

I am still expecting you home John Egan, I'd be with you till you were. That was the deal right?

With all my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration

Your darling x

Dear John

If my letters and love don't reach you where do they go?

Tell me more secrets please? Tell me anything? Tell me you'll sing for me like I asked? What do I do if I never get to meet you?

I've checked each list I've found twice every day for months now. Meg said I'm a mess but I don't really care, I just want to know that you're alright. Even if you're not coming here. Please just tell me you're safe John.

With all my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration

Your darling x

Dear Darling,

Sorry, I didn't think a little while would be that long but I've thought of you every damn day I couldn't write to you. I got your letters, all three of them made it to my base some how.

I'm hoping I beat this letter home so that I can tell you in person that I love you.

I hope you like what arrives in Washington darling, but please bare with me if it takes me a second to adjust. I'll tell you everything, all of it, anything you want to know about me. I feel like I have very little to offer you but it's all for you now. I'll be home so soon.

With all my heart, my love and my unfiltered adoration

Yours,

John Egan

[luvtak]

seasons of love, hhj

✦ pairing hyunjin x reader

✦ genre/tw FLUFF! FLUFF! ONE MORE TIME SAY IT WITH ME! FLUFF!!! hyunjin and mc are very much in love! hyunjin is said to be taller than mc and have bigger hands. lots of kisses and i love yous. suggestive in a couple places. in and out of present and past tense lol. overall very sweet and lovely--hyunjin and mc falling in love through the seasons

✦ w/c 2412

✦ a/n okay so! this is a rewrite of something i posted springtime last year and i hated it lol. this time around i am very proud of hyune and mc and they’re love story and i hope you all love it too!! I've spent months adding scenes and taking them away until I got here <3 please like and reblog, and please please reach out if you have any ideas or questions or just wanna talk!! love you guys forever, mwah!!

He came to you in the Summer, bringing with him music and dancing, and so much laughter you forget how serious falling in love can be.

There is just something about warm weather. It could be the sun shining over your beloved, lighting them up like a god or a king, maybe it’s just that the temperature resembles the touch of your lover’s caress, or that the awakened world is made for romance. It was early July, and everything was blue and sunny; days were filled with jokes and getting to know each other over hot days and cold drinks. Confessions given on front porches and whispered under blue skies—a million firsts bundled up as the heat went away.

He tells you he likes you so quietly, whispering in his sweet little voice, “would you like to go out sometime?” 

The way his tall frame looked against the paint palette sunset would live in your head forever; pretty hair and long legs, the sweetest smile curving up to his crescent moon eyes. Looking back, you wished you had a camera or shared his talent with a paintbrush–just to have that moment set in stone. The smile that made you say yes. 

In the beginning, he was too shy to hold your hand or stand too close. Inching closer and closer until he stood against you–brushing his fingers against yours until his big hands were enveloping your smaller ones. 

 The first time he kissed you, his hands were shaking.

 He was so nervous you could feel the goosebumps rising on his arms, but he asked so sweetly,

“Can I kiss you.” And there was no way you’d ever say no. Not when he stood there in his summer clothes and pink cheeks, not when it was Hyunjin asking. 

He held you straight against him, both hands on your face—the first press of his lips like drinking water, so slow as not to choke then gulping it down. His skin was soft everywhere you touched, and his kiss was happy: full of teeth and giggles and coming up for air.

Getting to know him was like walking into your childhood home, everything about him as familiar as the lines on your palm. Some parts of you are certain you’ve known him before—maybe you were lovers then too, or maybe two trees whose roots were intertwined. In any reality, you can’t see how Hyunjin is supposed to be with you. There is just no other reason why he could know you so well already, no other explanation as to why his body fits around you like it was made to.

Late one night you tell him your theories, and the smile he gave you was so bright and shiny you thought the sun came up. You tell him calmly and earnestly,

 “Hyun, I’m almost certain we’ve already met thousands of times before.” 

August is hot and covered in orange sunsets and long kisses; pink skies the same color as his cheeks when he asks you out again and again. He tells you about his life while you flip through his journals, page after page dedicated to moments he loved and dreams he’s had, and moments yet to come.

The days are long and it’s so easy to care for him, 15 hours of sunlight allowing you to learn all of him and still need more. Sharing secrets under leaves and laughs under covers–it’s too quick to fall in love, too fast for this insatiable longing to rise up in you. But you think you are, you must be, what else could that aching pull in your tummy be? 

The first I love you falls from your lips like the leaves around you. A day spent shopping in the Halloween aisles and holding hands to keep warm. He looks so pretty, dark hair standing out against the grays and oranges of the season, and you love him so much you can’t help but tell him. The words float easy, accompanied by wind bitten skin and a warm gaze.

At first, he hesitates, making sure he’s heard you right, until finally the sun breaks on his face and he speaks.

“I love you too, silly.” He says it like it’s obvious, and it is. He’s been telling you with his eyes and his hands for months, it’s the truest he’s ever felt.

Autumn is spent studying each other, learning how and when to touch—how to make him gasp and sigh. His eyes flutter when you kiss his hip and roll when you bite down; He scratches and pulls, he makes your teeth rattle with his skin. Late nights and early mornings mapping each other, he tells you he loves you and swallows the response, touches the words away.

“I love you; I love you; I love you.” You say over and over again, hoping it sinks into his soul like a second skin.

In mere months, he knows your heart like it’s his own, slotting himself into your life like he’s always been a part of it. Your body has become his home; he’s tied his heart to yours in a double knot. You’re made for him, he’s sure of it—molded from the same clay, split-a parts who’ve found each other.

He tells you things he’s never told anyone before, pressing the secrets against your lips and pulling all of your secrets out of you at the same time. 

He adores you, cherishes you as a person, a friend, a lover. He feels happier than he ever has, and he wants to show you to everyone he knows. When he introduces you to his friends, the smile never leaves his face and his hand stays wound with yours. They welcome you like an old friend, and he feels like both pieces of his heart are melting together. He watches you joke with Felix and be teased by Minho, and he thinks you’re the piece that’s been missing this whole time.

Months have been spent just the two of you, and it’s been perfect–intimate and so warm, but seeing you among his friends changes things. Almost like it wasn’t yet real, and now it is. 

When you go to bed that night, he tells you,

“They love you and I love you.”  and the look you give him is so beautiful, he thinks he should bottle it and save it for later.  

Winter brings an unwelcome guest, a yearning for him that won’t go away—it’s harder to love him when he’s busy, and you wish you could be stronger and less jealous, but you’re only one person. It gets considerably difficult to wash the harsh feelings away when he isn’t there to help you, too many nights spent feeling too far away from him induce an anger you can’t get rid of.

When he arrives late and smelling of alcohol, you can’t seem to swallow the bitterness—why would he be drinking when he could be here with you? 

Hyunjin, never a novice in reading you, picks it up right away. 

One quick comment and then yelling. 

“Are you just tired of me?” It escapes from your tongue like a lash, pricking invisible scars onto every vein. He wishes you would know he misses you too, but how could you when he’s never around, not physically nor emotionally, so you keep screaming. Yelling so loud about things that don’t matter. You hope he knows you’re fighting to stay, not to leave, but the words leaving your mouths are so harsh, you can’t be certain if he remembers he loves you.

If you were in your right mind, you’d know he doesn’t want it this way. Everyday he longs for the heat of summer and the comfort of autumn. If he wasn’t drunk, he could tell you, but instead he says, “I just can’t do this anymore.” Maybe it’s better to let go and find each other next time, next life.

 Recently it’s been too hard, and maybe he’s not strong enough to learn about this part of you, but you are.

You’ve never been afraid to learn his bad parts, sure he’s a dream shaped like a boy, but he’s also whiny and clingy, and sometimes he gives up too fast. Even though it’s hard, and the tears are streaming into the seam of your lips—you gulp down the acidity and tell him you love him.

“It’s never going to get easier, Hyun, you’ll always be busy, and I’ll probably always miss you, but I love you and you said we’re meant to be, and you’re not a liar.” You tell him you’re sorry for yelling, and he says he’s sorry too, and in the morning, he’ll use his hands to apologize and then his mouth and he’ll promise to keep you warm when he can.

Winter is spent learning to love the pieces of each other that are unlikable, to see the invisible boundaries of before and honor them. You remember your theory about the trees with woven roots, and you remind yourself sometimes you’ll have to sacrifice your share of the water to survive, and you hope it’ll be easier when the world reawakens.

Night comes so fast, and it's so cold, but he loves you. It’s been half a year now, and you almost can’t remember where you were this time last year. Were you freezing without him? Or did you only feel the cold now that he’s here? 

All you know is his warmth–pressing into you wherever he can. 

A silent promise for the spring yet to come. 

His birthday arrives with the first of the blooms, the world not yet alive. You wish him happy birthday under warm sheets, whimpering the words in place of presents. He spends the day with the people he loves most and the happiness he feels eases into spring. He tells you it used to be his favorite; and you promise for his day you will bring some of the magic back.

 You help him pick flowers to paint, and read him your favorite stories, you kiss him under cherry blossoms and show him your favorite sunsets. It helps some, but not all—even so, spring with you is prettier than without. He’s sure his skin is brighter because you kiss it, and his paintings are better because they’re of you. He doesn’t know if you believe him, but he means it. His world has become technicolor since you walked into it.

He says it’s just better with you, “I mean it, honey, life is unbelievable when you’re around.”

It’s almost been a year, months spent learning and growing just like the flowers scattered around you. He loves you, so it takes no hesitation when you ask him to move in. He feels like it was already in the midst of happening anyway—his one drawer became a dresser, and his favorite snacks found their way to your cabinets.

Months ago, your heart became his home, and now he gets to live in it every day. Sure, you bicker some: many sighs of “That’s not where that goes, Hyun.” Combined with sweet mutters of “Well, it should go there, sweetheart.” But it’s exhilarating to open his boxes and link his life with yours—mitch-matched mugs in the sink and dirty clothes mixed together.

Your home is filled with dancing and music, laughter and love. His paintings cover the walls, pictures of your days held with magnets on the fridge. His life is now yours and your days belong to each other, and every night he reminds you it’s almost been a year, but how could you forget.

Sometimes, when he puts a dish away wrong, or leaves his clothes on the floor, you question why you invited him in. Even so, you wouldn’t take it back. He’s added so much color into your life, spring personified. A lovely romantic boy who sets your soul on fire. 

The flowers that line the street remind you of him, and the bees who accompany you on your walk sing a quiet song that resembles his sweet nothings.

 Your sweet spring boy, Hyunjin.

 Radiant in every season. 

Somehow, he looks the prettiest in the July heat. Of course, every season you’ve spent with him he’s been beautiful, but there is something about his smile surrounded by clear skies. His cheeks are the same color as the flowers and his kisses as warm as the sun. Something about the season where you first met, encasing him in a beauty befit of a prince. You can’t believe it’s been a year with him, a year getting to know how to love him and feeling his love back.

Looking at him now, he could probably make you do anything which is why when he woke you up at the crack of dawn dragging you out to see the sunrise you couldn’t say no. It was frustrating at first, when all you wanted was a few more hours in bed next to him, but Hyunjin could make you do anything if he smiled down at you.

He’s doing it now, looking so darling in his light sweater and clips in his bed-messed hair, looking past you at the sunrise. You love him like this, and it takes all of you not to tell him, to keep the peace of dawn. 

You’ve loved things before—people, places, things, but never a boy like this.

Hwang Hyunjin is so precious, so dear to you that it hurts sometimes. No one has ever loved you the way he does, his love surrounds you—covers you under a warm blanket of his affection until it radiates into you.

He’s telling you how pretty you are, how you look like the fresh blooms and you’re laughing—which is all he wanted. He only ever wants to make you happy, even if that means being a cheeseball sometimes. Especially if that means waking you up early enough to see the sun come up, and he wants to see that smile again, so he asks,

 “Honey, do you wanna know a secret?”

“Oooo, yes tell me.”

“I love you.” It comes so easy, flows so quickly past his lips like a nightly prayer, like it’s something so objectively true he can’t lie about it, which it is. And your smiles is so wide, laughing at how sweet your boy is, and you say,

“Oh, I already Knew that. I love you too.” And he smiles, grinning at the summer sky.

© LUVTAK

[chocsra]

yknow tht chuuyas friend got killed during the dragon head conflicts, right?(source dead apple) yea, wht if reader was one of them. letter fics reader confessing her love to chuuya and him finding it after she died.

"Tainted With Sin, Weakness Comes From Love."

16! Chuuya x implied fem! reader

summary: chuuya finds your letters to him after your death in the dragon head conflict

content: angst, heavy mentions of death, swearing

There, the boy remained victorious.

Others would furrow their brows, feel their heart clench into an impending drop. The utter and impeccable fear of such a small body, a young boy who yearned for nothing but a reason - a purpose, holding such power. He was as if he was sculpted by a passionate artist, a woman who presented herself as a 'mother' - soft orange locks, the ever glow of his skin that never left his face, and a harmonic assortment of features, those features that made him special. A child who was stringed together like a melodic harp by a mother is every child, and that was Nakahara Chuuya. He too, was a child.

At least, he felt like one.

"Chuuya," A tall, ginger woman speaks solemnly, clasping her hands together elegantly, as always. "here - [Y/N]'s stuff." Kouyou passes a large cardboard box to the boy; items like notebooks, pens, photos, and sticky notes. It had only been 14 days after the Dragon Head Conflict, and yet, the world's lost all sense of art: skies have been less blue, birds more or so melodically sing mantras of sorrow, rather than blissful chirps. Maybe it was because of his comrades who died, maybe it's because you were one of them, or maybe, it's his brain using his frustration with the world against him. In this box, consider it pandora's box of humanity - perhaps the sight alone brightened the sky, awakened the birds. You existed, and so, he longs to feel your existence once more. Be it through letters.

Chuuya runs his fingers along a folder of letters you've written. He'll close his eyes and pretend it's your skin - he'll close his eyes and make out each indent of each thought, each question you held for the universe on that paper.

Dear Chuuya,

Happy Birthday! You finally turned 16, loser. You're all over the Port Mafia, you know? Double Black is so goddamn popular I've been approached by people I don't know asking if we're friends. So ahem, here are my birthday wishes for my boy best friend - the only one I share my gossip to that isn't a girl.

You get taller.

You find out what the hell happened before you were 8.

A girl would finally like you or something - rare, I know.

You finally get a dog. PLEASE shut up about it :)

Thank you for being my friend, even though you lose your shit when we play UNO with Albatross. Get good, kid.

Sincerely,

- [Y/N].

The redhead can practically feel himself scoffing, even though it was more like a chuckle, before sealing the letter once again; a small smile tugging on his lips even though he finds himself wiping a bit of tears from his cheeks.

"Why did it have to be you?.." Chuuya chuckles, swallowing thickly to cover the strain of tears spilling out. Crystal tears were never a threat to the boy - once again, such things like a heart doesn't suit him - yet, he finds it ironic. Maybe you had it all along.

The boy, molded by the hands of divinity, stringed together by an otherworldly being, was nothing divine. Nakahara Chuuya reigned from torture, yearned for retribution, and became an artist - one acquired dazzlingly with revenge. He took the vessel of himself he loathed and despised it with his entire being. Arahabaki was no divine being, nor a mother who lovingly caressed and loved with dainty hands. He was a monster, Chuuya was too. But from the rippling shackles he's restrained himself to, there was an angel, sacred and divine, who chided him for his hatred, his sorrows, his regrets. You too, knew how it was like to lose, to betray and be betrayed, and yet, you would never bring those to him again, but it seems once again, you've failed.

You were an angel, his angel, a light in the sky that he never failed to follow. And yet, you too fell from heaven's gate. Chuuya, who has been by your side for years, never dare touch you - Nakahara Chuuya may taint you with his sin, ruin the wings that guide him through the light. But shit, as an artist of revenge - he'll repaint it with regret.

To grow from a child, child of hatred to man of soul, touch will remold him to his feet. Rebuke his despondency. Chuuya regrets, for his only reminder of your skin was your life slipping through his fingers like ash.

To be Chuuya's angel was to lace his hair in between your words.

To be Chuuya's angel meant you were going to be immortalized.

To be Chuuya's angel meant that was only going to happen once he's lost you.

Yet he still flips the page.

Dear Chuuya,

I like you.

I thought love was foolish. A four letter word, and one syllable of absolute bullshit. Love is only a fixation in TV shows and movies. Love is a weakness, and contrary to popular belief - love cannot save you.

But you saved me. Countless of times.

The first being when I botched an assignment miserably. I was about to sacrifice myself before you kicked all the enemies' asses! You even took the blame for me.

The second was when I ate too much during a celebration and you had to bring me home safely.

The third was when you didn't say anything after I farted in a closed elevator.

Maybe you're stronger than love, then. You're Chuuya Nakahara, the strongest ability user in the world. But, even if I fell for you - it's not because of your strength, or protection. I genuinely like you, Nakahara Chuuya, not the strongest ability user, but the boy who sought a past, the boy who longs for a wine collection, the boy who cries watching dog movies, the boy who thinks chokers are a fashion statement.

Don't think because you define yourself as Arahabaki I will too. You're so much more than that.

But eh, who cares anyway, its not like you know how to read or write.

Love,

- [Y/N].

The boy who sought a past, felt himself shatter, because now he actually he had one. A best friend of his memories. An angel only in his dreams. A desire he could only do so much but reminisce. But contradictory to your previous statement, Nakahara Chuuya could read, even write now.

All because you taught him.

[introjected-confession]

i'm a fictive who's VERY disconnected from my source due to personal issues regarding it, and my favorite part of that is fucking with people who push me to tell them my source. i've convinced people i'm a fictive of the tetris line block, a blank minesweeper tile, the COVER of war and peace, and so many other things. it's genuinely hilarious would recommend 100%

[effelier]

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆 ✩࿐

pairings: kazuha, wanderer, and xiao x gn!reader (separate)

content: fluff, mutual pining, cuddling in kazu and scara's, a bit of a confession in kazuha’s, tranquil beach scenery with kazu, scara is in his wanderer era, you travel with the wanderer, watching fireworks with xiao

summary: under the cover of an enchanting night, romance blossoms.

a/n: i love mutual pining. also, the idea of xiao and scara being soft towards only the reader makes me melt. anyway, i hope you enjoy reading!

Tonight, waves lap at the shore, ebbing and flowing in a steady rhythm, creating a repetitive beat — a baseline for nature’s songs. The sea reflects the darkening skies above, displays of vivid blue and violet lined with subtle shades of rose gold. Sand shifts as you walk barefoot along the shoreline with your closest friend, each grain absorbing the remnants of daytime warmth.

“KAZUHA, hurry up!” you yell, rushing ahead despite the resistance of the miniature dunes beneath you. Playful giggles fill the air as you run and Kazuha chases after you, trying his best to ensure that you remain within his sight.

“Ah, wait!” he calls back, following after you.

Although your legs carry you far, you eventually begin to pant, and your body feels far too heavy to continue on. In a single motion, you dramatically fall to the ground, thankful for the sand below acting as padding. You crash, but fortunately, you’re not injured.

Seconds later, Kazuha catches up. He stands above you, gazing down at your breathless face and smiling softly. Embers of adoration ignite in crimson eyes reminiscent of autumn leaves, burning brightly as he offers a hand to you.

“Are you alright?” he asks, grabbing one of your hands firmly. In one swift motion, he pulls you to your feet, and you nod.

“I’m fine,” you manage to say between gasps for air. You’re still tired, and you suppose you should have conserved some energy instead of attempting to run at the speed of light. However, you know you’ll recover eventually.

Kazuha stares at you for a second, irises mirroring shades of sunset flickering over your each and every feature before he shakes his head.

“You look like you need a rest,” he tells you.

He sits down on the sand and pats the spot next to him, gesturing for you to take a seat next to him. You do as he instructs, and soon enough, you find yourself on the ground beside Kazuha, your shoulders nearly touching.

You glance over at him, admiring the way his snow white hair, highlighted by the dying crepuscule, billows in the sea breeze. Autumnal pools of molten rubies fill with small flecks of gold as he keeps his gaze fixated upon the tranquil sea before you. But nothing rivals the smile that comes to adorn his features — full of wonder, an encapsulation of the sun’s brilliance and the moon’s serenity.

Ethereal. That’s the word that comes to mind while you stare at the beautiful boy next to you, and yet, you fear it’s still not enough to describe him.

He’s perfect. His allure rivals that of the panoramic scenery before you.

You wish you could stay in the moment forever — or at the very least, permanently etch every last detail of today into your memory.

Soon enough, the last threads of warmth are pulled from the earth with the disappearance of the sun, and a chill begins to radiate as the cold light of the moon overtakes the sky. Every hint of marigold, coral, and canary completely vanishes. In their place, a deeper midnight blue ebbs into the heavens. As the wind passes by, you feel a slight shiver run down your spine.

And your discomfort doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you cold, my dearest?” Kazuha asks you.

The term of endearment causes a warmth to rise to your cheeks. Although affectionate words aren’t rare with Kazuha, your friend is making it sound as though the two of you are a couple.

However, your embarrassment fades as another gust of glacial fervor drifts by to steal the heat from your face, you force yourself to nod. You know that even if you lie, Kazuha will be able to see right through you. You’ve been friends for a while now, and given Kazuha’s attunement to nature, it’s nearly impossible to deceive him.

The wandering samurai wraps an arm around you, igniting a warmth akin to the caress of golden sunrays. His embrace is so warm… so comforting…

You feel your eyelids becoming heavy, and your head involuntarily falls to Kazuha’s shoulder. Slumber begins to overtake you. Tendrils of tantalization pull you deeper into a realm of oneiric euphoria, blurring out the waking world in the process.

But through it all, thoughts of the boy beside you, the one who embodies transient autumns in both looks in personality, never leave your mind.

Just as you feel yourself falling into a plane of enchanting fantasies, you hear six soft words spoken in tandem, whispered by a voice more delicate than the marine zephyrs surrounding you.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Wow, you’re really bad at this,” the WANDERER huffs. “At this rate, we’ll freeze to death.”

You can feel the Wanderer’s indigo gaze, a flawless mimic of the night sky, piercing into the depths of your soul, scrutinizing your every move. At the moment, the only illumination is provided by phantasmagoric stars dotting a canvas of murky navy and violet, but it seems to be enough for him to make out your silhouette against the surrounding shadows.

You sigh, tangible frustration permeating the otherwise serene evening air as you exhale.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I guess I’m just tired or something.”

For a few seconds, a defeaning silence fills the atmosphere, transforming the ambience into one of awkwardness.

And then you feel the Wanderer sit down beside you.

“Whatever,” he mutters. “You’re clearly exhausted and in no state to be starting a fire.” For some reason, his tone of voice is far less pointed than usual, changing from an embodiment of everwinter storms to something more akin to a honeyed warmth — a tranquil portrait of summer’s joys.

You open your mouth to apologize again, but before you can speak, you hear grass rustling as the Wanderer stands up. Your gaze follows his barely-visible figure as he walks a short distance from where you’re sitting back to the small tent you set up earlier. He rummages around for a second before returning and draping a blanket around your shoulders.

“Don’t bother thanking me,” he says, sitting back down next to you.

Your traveling companion looks up at the star-speckled sky, and you swear you can see galaxies full of vibrant magenta and ocean blue reflected in his irises.

“Aren’t you cold too?” you ask, breaking the fragile, short-lived silence into fragments with words that echo in the midnight air, seemingly amplified in the midst of a peaceful moment.

The Wanderer simply shakes his head in response.

“There’s no need to worry about me,” he says.

And yet you still can’t help but feel guilty. You’re nice and cozy underneath the protection of a velvety blanket, safe from the frigid fingers of encroaching night. Meanwhile, the Wanderer is left to fend for himself.

What if you just share the blanket?

The idea is certainly tempting, but you’re a little too scared to follow through with it. Throughout your time with the Wanderer, you’ve gotten the feeling that he’s rather unfond of touch. After all, with his snarky attitude and unfriendly demeanor, he’s the antithesis of a cuddly person.

However, as you shift to sit in a more comfortable position, your fingers accidentally brush against his, causing you to flinch.

He’s cold. Incredibly cold.

And yet not a shiver runs down his spine.

Is he pretending to be alright for your sake?

The mere thought is enough to send another wave of warmth through your body, and suddenly, you feel less alone in the midst of enigmatic darkness. You realize that although he doesn’t outright show it, the Wanderer cares about you. Your heart flutters with the delicacy of a butterfly’s iridescent wings.

“You’re looking out for me,” you whisper under your breath. A small smile dances across your lips, and you decide to take a risk, jumping off a ledge of certainty and into an abyss filled with unknown feelings and fragile bonds.

With one swift movement, you take the end of the blanket closer to the Wanderer and wrap it around his shoulders. Now you’re sharing, and you can feel him pressing up against you. You swear you can feel the tempo of your heartbeat intensifying, each thump resounding in rapid succession.

To your surprise, the Wanderer doesn’t try to push you away. Instead, he scoots towards you.

“You don’t mind this?” you ask him, anticipating his response with bated breath.

For a second, silence fills the night, sending your mind into a polarizing frenzy and your heart into a panic. However, when the Wanderer speaks, you feel the tension leave your body.

“I don’t…” he starts, pausing briefly to consider his next words. Perhaps the surrounding darkness gives him courage, or perhaps he simply can’t suppress his feelings anymore because his next words are entirely unexpected, “but only because it’s you.”

Petals of red and gold bloom into voids of darkness, illuminating endless night in a display of phosphorescent flowers. But the sky isn’t the only thing that undergoes a stunning metamorphosis due to the luminous grace of the fireworks painting the shadows. In the edges of your vision, borders frayed from staring at the breathtaking sight before you for far too long, you catch an spark blaze alight within the honeyed amber of XIAO’s eyes. A subtle smile graces his features.

It’s barely noticeable, but it’s there.

You turn your attention to the beautiful boy beside you, absolutely captivated by the grin adorning his face. Displays of happiness from Xiao are rare, occurrences rivaling the convergence of sun and moon — a total eclipse. Your heart beats erratically, creating an exhilarating backing for a nocturne composed of the crackling of fireworks.

“You’re smiling,” you whisper.

Xiao grunts dismissively.

“Nonsense,” he says, wiping all traces of childish wonder and carefree bliss from his face. “The foolish antics of humans mean nothing to the Adepti.”

You feel the corners of your lips turn down. It’s almost like Xiao’s mood is infectious at the moment. When he’s smiling, you’re smiling, and when the euphoria fades from his expression, a certain lightness seems to vanish from the atmosphere.

“Oh, I see.” Your voice comes out meek, dulled by the immense disappointment filling your heart.

You want nothing more than to see Xiao happy. Throughout your time together, you’ve grown to care about him — admittedly a little bit more than platonically — and yet despite your concerns, you feel like Xiao doesn’t share the same sentiments. Xiao doesn’t quite care about his joy as much as you do. He’s far more content with protecting you, and although his actions never fail to cause giddiness to overwhelm you, you can’t help but want to see him smile for once.

Perhaps he’s scared of shattering the cold and distant image he’s crafted, despite the fact that you already know it’s all a fragile illusion formed from jagged shards of the most delicate crystal. Deep down, you know Xiao is caring and warm, akin to a flawless summer day, complete with golden rays of sunlight beaming down at you and a honeyed caress.

It seems that Xiao has noticed the negativity radiating off of you because as you avert your gaze, staring at the wooden floor of Wangshu Inn’s balcony, you hear Xiao’s voice once again.

“Wait,” he interjects, cutting through the thick silence with a singular pointed word, sharper than a dagger constructed from the toughest of diamonds. “I… should explain myself,” he mumbles.

Although you look up once more to make eye contact with Xiao, you’re unsuccessful. Now he’s the one avoiding your stare, and he looks nothing short of endearingly shy. Gilded lamplight illuminates his features, making the sunset blush dawning on his cheeks all the more apparent to you.

“I wasn’t…” Xiao manages before pausing once more. “I wasn’t only smiling because of the fireworks,” he forces himself to say.

His words pique your interest. Although the rest of the night is exceptionally beautiful, the various acrylic hues burgeoning across a canvas painted a dark obsidian shade are the most noteworthy sights of the evening. When you try to think of anything that even closely parallels their beauty, nothing comes to mind.

“I felt at peace,” he says, his voice softening, “because you were beside me.”

You inhale sharply. The air feels far too electrifying at the moment, shocking you with an unexpected elation. You didn’t expect Xiao to be so forward, and yet, here he is, more or less telling you how much you mean to him. Many words remain unspoken, but you already know Xiao well enough to understand the weight of that one sentence.

As you glance over to the adeptus once more, a grin dances across your face. Aureate galaxies meet your gaze, sparkling with the subtlest hints of adoration.

The blush across Xiao’s cheeks only intensifies as the corners of his lips turn up once again in a shy smile.

It’s luminous. His expression, a true embodiment of equanimity and contentment, turns even the most breathtaking of fireworks more vibrant and the brightest of stars more radiant.

It’s at that moment that an epiphany strikes.

Contrary to what you had believed just moments prior, there’s one thing that rivals the stunning nature of the rainbow-infused pyrotechnics before you: the soft grin adorning Xiao’s features, accentuating each part of his face with a light brighter than that of an imploding supernova.

thank you for reading! i have a few more drafts that are close to finished, so i might post again soon (no promises though because i tend to procrastinate on my writing).

[epiphany-of-a-madwoman]

To Dream of Home | D. Targaryen

▹ Pairing: Daenerys Targaryen x Stark!Reader

▹ Genre: Fluff with mentioned Angst

▹ Words: ~2.5k

▹ Summary: A storm at Dragonstone brings you and Daenerys together and allows for confessions of love to slip.

▹ Note: I am very gay, that is all. My love for the Targaryen's has returned and y'all are gonna be sick of me.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

A storm raged on the island of Dragonstone. 

Charcoal skies were dappled with thick silver-black clouds that brought the heavy rains that shook the keep. Roaring thunder and electric blue lightning. Treacherous seas and a storm that could rival the vengeance of a god. The inhabitants of Dragonstone seemed acclimated to the severe weather.

You, however, were used to winter winds and thick snowfall. Not devastating rain and earth rattling thunder. Sleep eluded you which led you to where you were now. Locked away in a small room near your chambers, you made a makeshift altar upon your arrival to Dragonstone with your half-brother Jon.

“You spend an awful amount of time here.” 

The voice cut through the silence, an intrusion of your time of peace. Kneeled before the makeshift altar you’d created, a half dozen flickering candles illuminated the center of your face and carved shadows on the contours of it. Wordlessly, you finished the final verses of your prayer before lifting your lowered head and turning to face the intruder. 

At the doorway, not daring to cross into the room without permission, was Daenerys. Her hesitance to intrude was strange, seeing as Dragonstone was her keep you were a guest in.

Her hair was loose, waves cascading over her shoulder and down her back. The curls and creases left by her braids were the only reminders they’d been there. She wore dressing robes in hues of blue, embroidered flowers and designs following the curve of her body. She was beautiful in an ethereal kind of way. It was the type of beauty you half expected to be a facade, that one day you would wake to find Daenerys had only ever existed in your mind. 

“I find the prayer soothing,” you responded, slowly standing. Your legs were sore from kneeling on the hard stone too long. There was a crick in your neck that tinged painfully if you turned your head too far left or too far right. Yet you did your best to keep a grimace from your expression. The last thing you needed was Daenerys thinking it was her presence you found unpleasant and not the needling pain in your body. 

“Do you pray often?” She shifted her head, causing tendrils of silvery hair to move from over her shoulder to rest along her back. Violet eyes stared at you curiously, lips pursed in an almost grin. She hardly seemed to smile, the oppressive halls of Dragonstone mimicking the impending war for the Iron Throne. 

“I do, yet I do not believe the gods are listening,” you muttered the last part quietly, followed by a deep breath. 

You glanced towards the candles and the altar, recounting every moment you’d spent kneeling before ones just like it. The years had been unkind, the horrors only growing worse as the years passed. It had shaped you into the woman you were today, hardened by deaths you never should’ve witnessed. Yet there was a part of the ten-year-old girl that still lived within you, that believed the gods were listening and that if you prayed hard enough, they would grant your wishes. 

“I never did much praying as a child, my brother didn’t see the point.” Her eyes moved past you, staring at the makeshift altar. Lit by the dim light of the room, you could see a hint of melancholy that tinged her violet eyes blue. Your gaze lowered to the ground at the mention of her brother, her upbringing so different than yours had been.

Northerners were as harsh and cold as the winter winds they grew up in, but beneath all the cold, austere facades your family was as warm as the hearth in the great hall. You’d grown up with a family who loved and cared for you. Whispers of Viserys’ anger reached even the North, his grief twisted into madness. 

Both parties may have passed, but at least you had your family's love to hold onto during the darkest nights. Daenerys had no such thing. Nothing but the hope of reclaiming her family’s stolen valor as a light in the night. 

“If you want, we could pray together.” Her attention returned to you. “It may help you sleep through the storm.”

Daenerys pondered your offer for a moment before accepting with a single nod. She crossed the threshold into the room, her gown following her like a cloak. You returned to the kneeling position you were in before, Daenerys taking her place beside you. 

“Some people believe there are specific words you have to use, that then have to be said in a specific order or the gods won’t care. But I don’t believe that, I allow my feelings to guide my prayers. Perhaps that’s why the gods aren’t answering me, but I feel better that way.” 

Daenerys nodded, watching you with such attentive eyes you had to look away in fear of the flush that would appear on your face. “Do you say them out loud?”

“Sometimes, but mostly I just mentally recite them. It feels like it's my own secret that way.” There was a hint of coyness in your voice that made a smile appear on the corners of Daenerys’ lips. 

Silence fell over the room, only the roar of thunder and the patter of rain to be heard. The candles continued to burn, the wax melting and staining the stone flooring. There was a single window in the room, a flash of lightning filling it with pale blue light. Subconsciously, your eyes moved to Daenerys’ side profile. 

Her eyes were shut and her lips slightly parted. She looked so soft and innocent, and you wondered if this was who she could’ve stayed if not for the rebellion that harshened her worldview. What would she have become if she didn’t have to fight tooth and nail every moment of her life just to survive? The quiet of the room and the soft curves of her face allowed you to imagine just how different she may be in a different lifetime. 

Your eyes had lingered on her too long, you knew, but you couldn’t look away. Your heartbeat had sped up, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. She’d always made you feel giddy like a child, but now that there was no chaos to distract you. It was easier to hone in on the feelings she elicited from you. And perhaps you shouldn’t entertain them, but a small sliver of hope kept you holding on. 

The weight of your gaze must’ve been heavy because Daenerys lifted her closed eyes from the floor and met your gaze. Her expression was unreadable, but you could’ve sworn her eyes flickered to your lips before meeting your eyes. 

“What did you pray for?” The words fell from your tongue before you could consider how invasive they could be. But she didn’t seem offended, a small blossoming on her face as another streak of lightning filled the room. It made her skin glow, making her look even more otherworldly. 

“I prayed for home.”

Her answer sent a pang of sadness that was surely reflected in your eyes. She brought dragons back to the world and freed the slaves of Slaver’s Bay while uniting the Dothraki under one banner and making them cross the sea for the first time ever. So many fantastical acts were done because of her, it was easy to forget behind it all was just a scared girl. She could make herself of steel and ice, but underneath it all would always be flesh. 

“I pray for home as well,” you uttered. 

She raised a brow, non-verbally asking you to elaborate. Her expression was so attentive, like a sponge ready to soak up whatever information you may present to her.

How could you possibly ever deny her?

“I very much wish to return to the North. The short days and long nights, the air that was sharp with a bitter chill. Grey skies and white grounds. Snowflakes that fell into my mouth as Theon and Robb chased me to the edge of the woods. The sky was bleak and void of color, but the hearths in the Great Hall made light dance in the keep, mead keeping everyone warm and merry.”

The smile on your face was tinged with melancholia, the grief making your body lock up and freeze. Those days were long gone, and you could never return to them. That didn’t stop you from wishing for it, however.

To hope that one day you might wake up and find this had all been a terrible dream. Your mother and father were still alive, Robb was preparing to become Lord of Winterfell; Arya and Sansa would continue to bicker and Jon would join the Night’s Watch to make something of himself. Everything would be right and war wouldn’t cast a shadow far darker than that of the worst winter storms. 

But those were the wishes of a naive child, the life you were in is the life you’re stuck with. But perhaps in another lifetime, you got to live out every fantasy and forgotten dream.

“That sounds beautiful.”

Daenerys’ voice pulled you from your reminiscing, your eyes wandering back to hers.

“It was.” 

“And yet you left Winterfell to come here with your brother?” 

You swallowed thickly. Winterfell had become a bittersweet place. Walking the Great Hall felt as if you were in a haunted house. The ghosts of past memories lingered in every corner, the echoes of laughter you’d never hear again filling your head. The relief being home had brought you had been short-lived, the weight of the betrayal of Theon and the Bolton’s tainting it. 

Winterfell wasn’t home anymore. 

“I--” you stuttered, unsure of just how to put your feelings into words. How do you tell someone that your home doesn’t feel like home anymore? How do you explain everything you had fought for felt empty in the end? It didn’t lift your pain or mend the scars of the past years. Instead, it ripped over the scabs and left you bleeding in the snow. 

“I don’t know if Winterfell is my home anymore.”

Daenerys hummed, nodding her head. Her expression was solemn and in her eyes, you saw understanding. She knew all too well the conflicting sentiment of fighting for something you may not want in the end. 

“When I was a girl, Viserys and I lived in a house in Braavos with a red door and lemon tree outside my window. It was the closest thing to home I’d had.” 

Subtly, you scooted closer to Daenerys, eager to unravel more of her elusive past. She hardly spoke of her life with Viserys, most of the memories too painful to reminisce on. And maybe, just maybe, her vulnerability was a sign that your feelings weren’t so unrequited. 

“What was it like?” You prod for her to speak more on her time in Braavos, enraptured by the glimmer in her eyes. 

“It was a beautiful house and so large, at least it seemed large at the time. There was even a room with a wooden beam with animal faces carved in it. I had my own room and a window to peer outside. I’d sit there for hours, watching the sunrise and the sunset.”

Her hand rested on the floor, and tentatively, you reached over and placed your hand over hers. You half expected her to brush you off, but instead, she leaned closer to you. Shoulder to shoulder, you could smell the floral oils her hair had been washed with. 

“What happened to it?” 

She sighed, eyes wandering back to the altar. “Our patron passed and the servants sent us away. But even after all these years, I still long to return. To escape to the innocence of my youth.”

A beat of silence passed, Daenerys longing words hanging in the air. 

“We could always return.”

Daenerys turned, meeting your gaze. Inches separated your face from hers, and this close up, you could see the faint freckles that created constellations on her skin. 

“And if it’s no longer standing?” 

Your heart stuttered as you hesitated on your next words. It was now or never, the time to lay your cards on the table and learn if your hope was delusional. 

“We could build a new one with a lemon tree just outside the bedroom. I’m not much of a widdler, but I could try to carve new animal faces in the wooden beams in all the rooms.”

For a moment Daenerys doesn’t speak, doesn’t even seem to breathe. Her eyes are locked with yours, wide and unblinking. Nerves begin to create a thousand cuts in your mind, perhaps you’d been too forward in your confession. 

“And you would stay with me?”

She wanted to hear you say it, to verbalize you’d never leave her side, not willingly. 

“I’m not much for the heat, but I could learn to love it to never leave your side.”

She exhaled a small puff of air, a smile lighting up her face. The apples of her cheeks were rounded and rosy, violet eyes twinkling like the stars in the sky. The sudden impulse to run your fingers through her hair came over you. And you acted on it, gently carding your fingers through the silver-gold strands of hair. 

“Then perhaps we meet in the middle and build our house with the red door in a more temperate climate.” 

She leaned closer, the tips of your noses brushing. 

“We could make our home on the mountainside? It would leave plenty of room for the dragons,” you suggested. Daenerys smiled, the whisper of a laugh leaving her mouth. The sound was the sweetest melody you’d ever heard. You’d never wanted to stop hearing it. 

“And direwolves?” 

“Maybe one or two.” 

You cut off whatever Daenerys may have replied with, placing your lips against hers. The kiss was gentle as if to seal the promise you’d made. She smiled into it, her hands weaving themselves around your neck. You pulled her closer, practically pulling her into your lap; you’d wanted her as close as possible. To bask in the warmth radiating from her body and the softness of her skin under your fingertips. 

Perhaps things would’ve been different in another lifetime, where Daenerys got to be the princess she should’ve been and you the daughter of a very much alive Ned Stark. But perhaps in those lifetimes you and Daenerys would never be more than passing acquaintances. She'd be the princess of the kingdom and you the lady-daughter of the Warden of the North. 

This lifetime felt like trying to sail through a storm and Daenerys was the lighthouse guiding you to the shore. The death and loss had been painful, but it all led you to this moment with Daenerys. It nearly made the events of the past years worth it.

"Let's win this war so we can build our silly little house," you muttered against her lips, eliciting another laugh from Daenerys before she placed her lips on yours again.

You would give Daenerys her house with the red door and the lemon tree outside, no matter the cost.   

[shanieveh]

back to december 🌙 !

scaramouche x gn!reader | genshin smau

SUMMARY: you were childhood bestfriends with scaramouche, and with many unanswered confessions and one sided goodbyes, you both meet again, but now he wears a cold glance even turning agressive when his eyes wander yours, and it all came down the day he became the top of your class, beating you and rejoicing in success. his smile was because of your pain. maybe you could turn back time where promises actually never broke, and love was a beautiful thing.

GENRE: enemies to lovers, academic rivals, mutual pining, angst, crack, childhood bestfriends, profanity, suggestive

STATUS: [05. 29. 23] on-going

TAGLIST: open

PROFILES— reading club | late night drinking buddies

FLASHBACKS — flashback 1 | flashback 2 | flashback 3

01: how dare him?

02: ocean blue eyes

03: jealousy, jealousy

04: drunken words, sober thoughts

05: selling nfts to billionaires (not a scam)

06: terms of services

07: online therapist

08: stan photomath

09: slaying in the pain

10. the truth is hard, thats what she said

11: x and y aren't the same

12: before you go (emotional)

13: gacha club for intellectuals

14: if bad, why hot?

15: bermuda triangle

16: call it what you want

17: i can never give you peace

18: unsaid actions

19: i feel you forget me

20: i think i've seen this film before

21: how long can we be a sad song?

22: you're losing me

23: whispers of the wind

24: paint me a blue sky

25: letters to my beloved

26: maybe this time

27: long story short

28: memories bring back you

29: september night

30: you held your head like a hero

"dark clouds and stary skies, it was and have always been you... please don't leave us like this."

[unique-high]

clingy drunk Bada

You're not in love, You're just drunk.

a/n: hope you like it. I tried my best with it 🥺 sorry for any mistakes.

bada doesn't want you to leave her when you two get to her apartment. she likes it better when you're keeping the other side of her bed warm.

you and bada had bar hop earlier that night, but bada still wanted to drink some more. she tells you to make yourself at home like she usually does. Two glasses in her hand and a bottle of jack daniels whiskey in the other. you were sitting on the floor leaning against the front of the sofa. bada settled down beside you, shoulders brushing against each other. she pours you a little while. She gave herself half a glass.

she was feeling a buzz, and you were looking pretty under the cool glow of the living room lights. bada moves closer to you, she hangs her head down, staring at you.

“w-what?” you asked, your lips on the brim of your glass.

she smiled a little saying, “just looking at the most beautiful girl in the world.”

you laughed sitting your glass down beside your leg. “don't even start, bada.”

“start what?”

“the thing you do when you've drunk too much.”

“i do a thing?”

“yes.”

“what's the thing I do?” bada plays with a strand of your hair.

“you know.”

“no i don't. tell me y/n~”

“the thing you do where you say weird stuff...”

“i say weird stuff?” she asked. “like what?”

you flick bada's forehead and she whines.

“just drink your whiskey and leave me alone.”

after two glasses of jack daniels, bada wanted to feel closer to you. she plays with your fingers, wanting them running through her hair, and ghosting her hot flushed skin. she climbs on you, straddling your lap. her eyes are hooded. you liked the version of bada. you smile at her, and your arms go around her waist. bada is seeing hearts all around you. she thinks you got more beautiful within the last couple of minutes.

bada when she's drunk, she can be really clingy with you. from hugging you to wanting to crawl into you. She needed to touch you. bada is so cute when she's drunk, with a red flush face, to pouty lips that you want to kiss.

“i like your face.” she said quietly. her hands caress your cheeks, the palms of her hands were a little cold, her fingers softly press into your skin. “i could stare at you all day and never ever get bored.”

“there you go saying weird stuff.” you smiled at her.

bada leans into you, wrapped arms around your neck as she pressed her face into the crook of your neck. her nose rubbing against your neck. she always adored your smell. It reminds of her summer, being on a beach playing in the cool salt water.

“i...i...love you, y/n.”

you laughed at what bada said. your body lightly vibrated against hers as your arms wrap tighter around her waist.

“that's the jack daniels talking, honey.”

the fleeting of your heart and the steady hum of hers was like a silent confession.

"you remind me of cloudless blue skies in spring." bada murmurs.

It doesn't make sense to you, but it makes you happy.

You gently rock her. "you're talking nonsense now."

she pressed her lips to your neck, trailing soft, slow kisses up to your ear. she thought about wanting to kiss every inch of your skin.

heat runs up to your face feeling in your cheeks. "bada this isn't funny." you whined.

she pulls away from you. her brown eyes searching yours looking for the permissions she needed. when she finds it, she leans into you her lips lightly ghosting over yours, and the faint scent of jack daniels tickles your nose.

"but you liked it, didn't you?" she teased.

you chewed on your bottom lip before answering. "It felt nice."

"it'll feel even nicer when we kiss."

You didn't wait for bada to kiss. you. you're a little greedy smashing your lips into hers. It's sloppy, and a little clumsy. Teeth hitting teeth and biting of lips.

"fuck." you moaned into the kiss.

[aernx]

꒰ 💭 ꒱ OH, NIKI YOU’RE SO FINE! ˖ ⌨︎ ⁩◞❪니키❫

— 27 ! not now, not ever 💬

aerin’s extra : brace urself this is a long chp

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The date in the amusement park with Riki was full of glee and laughters. Before you even notice, the skies turned into hues of orange, the sun that once took place in the midst of the blue, is now sinking deeper into the west, as the moon slowly took its place.

The both of you sat on the benches near the water fountain. With the sunset in your line of sight and your head perched on Niki’s shoulder, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief and outmost joy.

You two watch the sunset in peace. Silently basking each other’s presence after a long day full of screaming and adrenaline rushing from the amount of rides you enjoyed.

You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling up ur lids grew heavier each second before you hear Riki hummed out your name.

“Yn?”

“Hm?”

“Pretty girl, are you sleeping?” He teasingly chuckled. Head slightly turning to his left shoulder—where your head was currently placed.

“ ‘m no I’m not.” You snuggled your head on his shoulder and the basketball player only fondly laughed in response as he leaned his head above yours.

The two of you stayed in place for a moment or two before you remove yourself from him. Sitting up straight with your back against the bench, you stretched your sore muscles.

“Ynnie? Can I tell you something.” You can hear the nervousness from Riki’s tone. You turn your head to face him face to face. Humming in response as you wondered about what was he going to say.

“Of course. Anything, Ki.” You nodded your head encouraging him to continue. Riki sat up straight, positioning his body to align with yours as you both sat up face to face.

“Yn I…” His brown hues melt into yours. In sense, you can view various kinds of emotions held in those eyes of his, all full on display.

He opened and closed his mouth yet no words slip out from his tongue as nervousness takes over him. Riki felt his mind racing in fear of your response. What if you reject him? Will he loose this so-called friendship he cherished? Will he loose you?

“Ki? Are you okay? You seem nervous.” You look at him with such concern. You gently put your hand on his shoulder, touching him like he was a fragile vase that was prone to break.

His eyes melt with yours once more. “It’s okay take your time.”

Again, Niki took his breath. Filling himself with courage as he held your gaze. “I-I like you, Yn.”

You took a sharp breath at his confession. Eyes widening as it took you by surprise. Sure you’ve heard that from your friends due to their constant teasing. But it’s different now that you hear it from him.

“Riki I-”

“No! You don’t have to answer now. I just need to get this out of my chest. Is that okay with you?” He tilted his head and you nodded your head in response.

“I like you, Yn. I’ve been liking you for awhile now. Freshman orientation, in 10th grade. Where I saw you for the first time. You might not remember but you sat right beside me. I forgot to bring a pencil with me and you noticed. So you lend my yours, saying that you had an extra for yourself. I was too shy to ask for your name—let alone introduce myself.” You scrunched your eyebrows, trying hard to grasp that memory. Your silence only indicated him to continue.

He took in a long breath before continuing. “I didn’t immediately started liking you after freshman orientation. At 10th grade, second semester. I remember you were Jake’s lab partner. I saw two of you talked in front of his locker when I wanted to approach him. I stood frozen on my tracks when I noticed that it was you. The pretty girl that sat beside me in freshman orientation, the one kind enough to lend me a pencil even without knowing who I was.”

“Anyone would’ve done the same in my position, Ki.” A small smile grasped your lips.

“I know, but out of all people, it had been you.”

You opened your mouth but he wasn’t done. “Wait! Let me finish this first. Is that okay?”

“Okay.”

“After that, I asked Jake who you were and he told me.”

“Who’s that you were talking with?” Riki approached his dear friend as he closed his locker doors.

“The one just now? That’s Yn, my lab partner. Why?” Jake squinted his eyes, feeling a bit suspicious.

“Nothing.” Jake noticed his friend’s gaze that seem to linger on your back as you slowly disappeared amidst the crowd.

“She’s pretty isn’t she?” He teasingly smirked. Riki’s cheeks turned into hues of red as a blush took over his features.

“Oh shut up.” Jake laughed at his friends flustered state and Riki smacked his friend playfully in response.

“After that I started to look for you in the midst of the crowd. In auditorium halls, I secretly wished you would be seated beside me or at least was in my line of sight.” He chuckled at his younger self’s silly behavior and amused, you chuckled with him.

“My friends started to notice and kept on teasing me after they found out. I still denied them back then. Saying that thinking that you were pretty doesn’t mean I like you. You know that whatnot.”

“Then, at 11th grade, I went to Sunoo’s archery tournament for the first time. That was when I saw you again. This time, I saw you in your true element. Your eyes were so focused and you had this look on your face, but that was when I realized that I liked you.”

“Later, I found out that you were good friends with our basketball captain, Heeseung and I started to look for you on the bleachers in every match. Knowing that you would be there to support your friend. But I secretly wished that you would notice me.”

You didn’t know he liked you for this long. “Oh Riki, but I did notice you. I remember always rooting for number 10, not knowing it was you.”

“Really?” You nodded your head.

You took his hand, intwining them together. “You know I’m grateful I did that typo on twitter that day.”

Ah that iconic typo. How could he forget?

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. If not then we wouldn’t have been this close.” You stopped before continuing. “I need time to process all this information that you just gave me but I’m not rejecting you, Ki.” You heard him sigh in relief.

“You might or might not know that this year, before we became close, I really tried to distance myself from boys.” He nodded.

“My friends also seemed to have been more protective of me, especially Hee. I love them all and I know they mean well. Now, I think I want to tell you what’s the reason behind all that.”

“As much as I am curious to know, I won’t push you into saying things you don’t want to, my lady.” Riki looked at you with such sincerity in his eyes that you felt like you might cry.

“Thank you, Ki. But I really want to tell you.” You took a deep breath before continuing. “At 11th grade, I had a boyfriend. Well I don’t know if he was really my boyfriend or whatever but our relationship was…not the best.”

“Our relationship was toxic and it took a lot of toll to my mental health. He would make me feel self conscious and made me think that I needed him.” You felt your eyes slowly brimmed with tears and Niki tighten the hold of your intwined fingers.

“I-I really believed that he loved me and wanted the beat for me but I was wrong, Ki.” He pulled you into his arms as you feel your tears started to fall more freely. “Shh it’s okay, love. He’s not here anymore.” He gently rubbed your back as you sobbed underneath his arms.

You untangle yourself from his hold after a short while. Calming yourself down before continuing your story. “You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to, my pretty.” Riki wiped away the tears from your cheeks, shushing you lightly.

“No, I want to continue.” He nodded, his hand still firmly holding yours—not showing signs of letting go.

“Our relationship only lasted for 6 months until he told me that he never did love me. He left just like that after I gave myself to him, he was just using me for my body. He said that I was just a pretty face and nothing more. I hate him so much, Ki.”

“Fuck him, Yn. He didn’t deserve you. He never will. You’re perfect inside and out. Your appearance might be enticing but you as a person Yn, as the most beautiful heart. I may call you pretty girl, but that visage of yours is only a glimpse of how truly pretty you are from within. You are so much more than just a pretty face, my darling.” Once more, you let yourself melt into his embrace. You were grateful for Riki’s presence more than ever.

“He pretty much blew all my self worth I had for myself and I isolated myself from my friends for awhile. But thanks them, I’m now okay.” You were beyond grateful for your friends, especially for a certain gamer boy who was persistent on making you feel better that time.

“That’s why I rejected everyone after that incident. After him, I couldn’t bring myself to trust boys the same. That was until I did the typo accident and we got to know each other—properly this time.”

“This is also why I can’t give you a proper answer, Ki. I myself is not even certain of my feelings. I hope you are willing to wait for me.” Your gaze averted to your laced fingers.

“Please, Yn, take all the time you need. I’ll be here waiting for you, whenever you’re ready. I’m not leaving you, Yn. Not now, not ever.” He tightened the hold he had on your hand. Looking at you with an unwavering gaze that made you feel in ease.

“Promise me, pretty boy?”

“I promise, pretty girl.”

OH, NIKI YOU’RE SO FINE! — CHP TWENTY-SEVEN

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aerin’s notes ☆

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TAGLIST. closed

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© aernx 2023 / do not steal, copy, translate — hope you enjoy my works! let me know if you have any suggestions ! comment ur thoughts n reblogs n likes wld be appreciated <3

[blingblong55]

Sweetness- Simon "Ghost" Riley

Picture credits: @ave661

Based on a request: Hii, I hope this request finds you in good health :)) Could you do a simon riley x reader where the reader is a super soldier who can fly and shoot lasers out of her eyes. They're the new recruit of the team and simon is intrigued by them. They work together and the reader effortlessly destroys the enemies. Then he starts to develop feelings and they end up together :)) Thankss!! Take care <3 ---- F!Reader, superhuman!reader, superhuman!au, friends to lovers?, confessions, fluff?, super soldier!reader ----

In the heart of the bustling city, amidst the chaos and the constant threat of danger, a recruit was about to make her mark on the battlefield. She was no ordinary soldier; she was a super soldier, gifted with extraordinary abilities that set her apart from the rest. With the power to fly and shoot lasers from her eyes, she was a force to be reckoned with.

After working with Laswell in some undercover mission, she finally decides to put you in the military. This was after an attack that led to some dead soldiers, something you could have prevented, had you been there. 

Being the so-called rookie of the team was not fun, every wrong move anyone made was somehow your fault and after three long months of proving yourself to be worthy of respect, Price paired you with the infamous Lieutenant. His usual partner, Soap, was out of the field sometime after a mission flawed. Ghost was more than curious to work alongside you for some time and when the opportunity arose, he was glad he would be able to see your powers on the field.

Simon, being the soldier he is, had seen many skilled soldiers come and go, but there was something different about you. There was a gracefulness to your movements, a confidence that spoke volumes of your capabilities. As you effortlessly took down targets during training exercises, Simon couldn't help but feel intrigued by you.

He approached you after a training session, his footsteps silent as he moved closer. "Impressive work out there," he said, his voice low and steady. You turned to face him, your gaze meeting his with unwavering confidence. "Thank you," you replied, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "I'm still getting used to all of this." Simon nodded, studying you closely. "You seem to have a natural talent for it," he remarked, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. A blush crept onto your cheeks, and you looked away, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze. "I've had some practice," you admitted, your voice soft.

By the time you two had reached the small and torn-down town your mission would take place in, he finally decided to ask a good question. "So, your powers, are they as good as everyone says they are, or are you bullshitting us?" He looks your way, his mask only giving away that cold stare of his. "They are as accurate as can be, Lt-"

"Ghost, call me Ghost," he cuts you off. You nod and try to understand that maybe he didn't like the rank title as much as others would. 

As you two prepare for the long night ahead, he sits down and thinks the plan over and over. Without trying, his gaze falls on you. he observes you with interest. Simon, being the soldier he is, had seen many skilled soldiers come and go, but there was something different about you. There was a gracefulness to your movements, a confidence that spoke volumes of your capabilities. As you effortlessly took down targets during training exercises, Simon couldn't help but feel intrigued by her.

By the time the sun had left the blue skies, Ghost and you prepared to attack the small base. It was a coordinated attack, one he and you had studied and planned for weeks before tonight. He wanted to test your abilities, but he also had to ensure your safety. "Got your six," he mutters before nodding at you as you kick through the door. 

The enemy soldiers shooting at you both, your eyes shooting lasers at them. Most of them lost an arm, leg or both, some got cut in half. Ghost tried to shoot at any moving enemy but shortly, the fire ceased as he stood in shock, watching the so-called piece of art you had made with their bodies. He chuckles, fuck, now he owes Gaz money. 

"how the fuck- how did you even react that fast?" he says, still in shock. You smile, "practice makes perfect, sir," you respond gently, trying not to sound threatening or say something wrong that could freak him out, something you have learned from past encounters. An amused nod and a chuckle later, he extends his hand and shakes yours. "Glad to have you on our side, Y/N," his deep voice no changed for a much softer one. "Glad to be a part of it, Ghost," you smile. 

It had been hours since the mission, and the ride back home was strange, he looked at your eyes, not wanting to read you but to study how from them those lasers just magically appeared and disappeared. How the fuck can they cut a human's arm off? You seem so sweet and gentle but holy fuck you are something mythical he only read about in comics. 

What became such a funny thing to him was who you had become to him. The girl would reach for the high-shelf items but just simply float off the ground like it was nothing and hand them back to him. He would often joke around and purposefully place items on the highest shelf in his office just to see you float off the ground and grab them for him. 

It was like having his very own pretty angel when you'd do this. 

 You were never supposed to be someone to him, not romantically at least. 

Training sessions became stolen glances in hallways, inside jokes, late-night smokes, lingering glances, shared meals in his office, smiles and laughs on lonely nights, phone calls when either of you were away, subtle touches when passing by each other, heart-melting comments and forehead kisses before a mission. 

"Simon?"

"Yes, darling?"

"What's on your mind?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"No."

"It's you, darling," he says as his arms hold you to him. His heartbeat is faster as he kisses your forehead. "I don't want to just be the guy you talk to, I want to be the guy who gives you more than forehead kisses or lets you use his jumpers," he confesses and it makes your breath hitch. Say the right words, he thinks. 

"Simon–"

"You should stay with me. Let me care for you," he says, his hand travelling to your back. "Let me spoil you the way you deserve. Let me protect you, move in with me so I don't have to spend more nights feeling like I need those sweet eyes looking into mine before sleeping."

"Do you want that?" you trace his tattoos and he nods. "I want to have you in my life," his hand travels to the back of your neck, making sure you see the seriousness in his eyes. "I want all my clothes covered in your scent. I want to find your hair in my bed or your makeup on my neck." he leans forward, his eyes pleading for a response. 

Your lips so hesitantly touch his but once you kiss him, he pulls you in, needing those lips of yours glued to his as he finds any cure in them. 

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